₦airaland Forum

Good as Ibra is, I would never sign him on as a coach. He just never turns up in big, big games, club or country...shioooo!

Nice one from the 'legislooters'. Who says they are dumb? Save their sorry faces and cow the rearing Otedola and his sponsors. Unless someone more maverick comes up with something to thump this, 'Facrook' will be saved in the end. I know this Nigeria like the back of my palm.

Girl, you and that guy, whoever he is are in for a battle of your lives...Let no man deceive you, you cannot 'just' have your life back and move on like they are telling you...if you ever moved on, it will be unto bigger problems. You better run to Jesus. He is the only one that can save you and guarantee that those blood you two shed stop crying out. He will also nullify the covenants by His Blood. Covenants are no joke. A word is enough for the wise!

My people die for lack of knowledge...this is what our society has turned into...It's such a shame!

My heart goes to Emeka Onwuliri...my course-mate and friend in the UNN. My the Lord grant you and others the fortitude to bear the loss. RIP Prof. Onwuliri.

Well, my uncle is gone...Awalla mourns you, Isiekenesi mourns you, Imo State mourns you...Nigeria mourns you. Oh death, where is your sting? RIP Dr. Levi Ajuonuma.

Oh, my God! this govt is indeed clueless as to what to do...we are talking of infrastructures needing urgent attention and they are so less busy that they thought out a change of name for a university!

A political move no doubt..it's all geared toward the inevitable...GEJ is contesting in 2015!

useless insunuations by poster...and you all are replying him...mstwwwwwwww

@ OP
U are obviously possessed...U beta run to church. Oh, those girls, I pity them

Arsenal will win the Champions League before Chelsea - Arsenal fans

We all know the outcome...

Obviously, Mikel has the heart to play on the big stage...he was really excellent throughout yesterday. 9/10 from me

Hi, folks! By now I believe it's sunk in that indeed Chelsea are European Champions. They deserve this because I believe they have paid their dues in European football. Over the last 9 years, Chelsea have invested heavily and taken drastic measures all directly related at effort to win the biggest prize in club competition - Uefa Champions Leagues Trophy!
However, it is easy to sit back and say it's money at work, luck or even providence. True as these may be to an extent, there are rather a string of character the remain in this Chelsea team and football club as a whole. They never gave up the dream of winning that trophy. Even when people told them they were not good enough, I mean in the even more glorious days, they held on. The team spirit was sustained and often sanctimonious as tampering with it led to crisis and ultimately the sacking of almost all the coaches gone in this period. No matter who was in charge, the aim was the same. This group of players, specially the old guard (they were written off so often) persevered and took responsibilities when it mattered. The young among them are exemplary in that they wait for their chance and time. It's been a long one coming and in the end persistence, courage, vision, focus, hard-work, teamwork, patience and fate all combined to win WIN Chelsea and Roman Abramovicht he most coveted trophy in European football!

Therefore:

Blue is (certainly) the color
Football is the game
We are together
And winning is our aim
So cheer us up
through the sun and rain
Cos' Chelsea, Chelsea is the name!!!

Oh my! CHELSEA are the pride of LONDON!

Did anyone hear me say I'd not trade DD for any other? Isn't he one of a kind? Bring it on, blues!

yemmy_ma: ed!ots,

just make Nigeria a manufacturing hub for these companies for instance to serve the African region. Provide infrastructure and a good investment atmosphere. That way, the technologies will be diffused into Nigerians naturally and they will pick things up from there.

Where does this govt get advise?

From their smoking anuses!!!

PROUD-IGBO:
Don't get me wrong, i'm happy for Anambra peeps. But i can't help feeling a bit underwhelmed with the launching of this brewery plant. I'd rather have preferred a plant/industry that engaged in 'proper' production of goods: like Innossons' car assembly plant, or Juhels' pharmacy coy. Don't we already have enough breweries in Nigeria?

If the business plan is to sell to the rest of Nigeria and export to the whole of West Africa, then that would be better. But then again that would depend on how saturated the market is presently, and also depend on Sabmiller having a product that's in high demand. Does anyone know what brands they'll be producing in the factory, and how popular they are?

You are obviously not a good business person. All the questions you raised are irrelevant because the investor must have already considered them. You don't know the business more than them....nor even the market. So, think of something else. Innoson Motor? Well, let's see how long it survives! Mind you, I can almost certainly tell that your vehicle( car, bus etc) are foreign, right? Is that how Innoson will survive? Abeg!

...and someone will tell me that "Nigeria go beta". We've got to end this scam game!

These men just always want to play on our(some of us anyway) intelligence. What happened to calls and IP tracking? Those guys make calls, issue statements and videos over this same internet....why all these nonsense? Obviously, these men in authority either know what they are up to or they are simply ignorant. Or that one sef wan show say im sabi something? They can tell that crap to the birds...not me.....Satellite my ass!

Blue is certainly the color...and winning is our way....so join us and sing 'Chelsea!!!'

you guys don't know jack about these things. For a particular spec of modem, what you get from it will depend on your network of choice. It's as simple as that!

It's all a show of wealth and arrogance...they should jettison their ill-gotten monies and connections and try to start like the ordinary guy, then they can tell us how. shioooooooooooo

Now we know why NOI is not the right candidate. She wouldn't have done this or at least her 'Nigerianness' wouldn't have let her. Good for us...We need to learnt to make good and judicious use of opportunity.

BFC, the great babylon crumbling? I saw this coming when Xavi was substituted against Chelsea. same happened 2day...e don hard for dem!
But I shall confirm Tuesday night

na wa oooo...dis country! and this is just a tip of the iceberge.

I wonder why Nigerians or even any knowledgeable person expected NOI to win. First, she's coming from a country she has been minister twice with nothing to show (it doesn't matter if it's not her fault). Then, she and her supporters forgot that America plays the pipe and therefore must dictate the tune. America is the biggest financier of the World Bank and has got allies that are also big financiers!

Read this: http://africanspotlight.com/2012/02/you-lazy-intellectual-african-scum-by-field-ruwe/

....and when you are done, you should understand.

They call the Third World the lazy man’s purview; the sluggishly slothful and languorous prefecture. In this realm people are sleepy, dreamy, torpid, lethargic, and therefore indigent—totally penniless, needy, destitute, poverty-stricken, disfavored, and impoverished. In this demesne, as they call it, there are hardly any discoveries, inventions, and innovations. Africa is the trailblazer. Some still call it “the dark continent” for the light that flickers under the tunnel is not that of hope, but an approaching train. And because countless keep waiting in the way of the train, millions die and many more remain decapitated by the day.
“It’s amazing how you all sit there and watch yourselves die,” the man next to me said. “Get up and do something about it.”

Brawny, fully bald-headed, with intense, steely eyes, he was as cold as they come. When I first discovered I was going to spend my New Year’s Eve next to him on a non-stop JetBlue flight from Los Angeles to Boston I was angst-ridden. I associate marble-shaven Caucasians with iconoclastic skin-heads, most of who are racist.

“My name is Walter,” he extended his hand as soon as I settled in my seat.
I told him mine with a precautious smile.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Zambia.”
“Zambia!” he exclaimed, “Kaunda’s country.”
“Yes,” I said, “Now Sata’s.”
“But of course,” he responded. “You just elected King Cobra as your president.”

My face lit up at the mention of Sata’s moniker. Walter smiled, and in those cold eyes I saw an amenable fellow, one of those American highbrows who shuttle between Africa and the U.S.

“I spent three years in Zambia in the 1980s,” he continued. “I wined and dined with Luke Mwananshiku, Willa Mungomba, Dr. Siteke Mwale, and many other highly intelligent Zambians.” He lowered his voice. “I was part of the IMF group that came to rip you guys off.” He smirked. “Your government put me in a million dollar mansion overlooking a shanty called Kalingalinga. From my patio I saw it all—the rich and the poor, the ailing, the dead, and the healthy.”
“Are you still with the IMF?” I asked.
“I have since moved to yet another group with similar intentions. In the next few months my colleagues and I will be in Lusaka to hypnotize the cobra. I work for the broker that has acquired a chunk of your debt. Your government owes not the World Bank, but us millions of dollars. We’ll be in Lusaka to offer your president a couple of millions and fly back with a check twenty times greater.”
“No, you won’t,” I said. “King Cobra is incorruptible. He is …”
He was laughing. “Says who? Give me an African president, just one, who has not fallen for the carrot and stick.”
Quett Masire’s name popped up.
“Oh, him, well, we never got to him because he turned down the IMF and the World Bank. It was perhaps the smartest thing for him to do.”

At midnight we were airborne. The captain wished us a happy 2012 and urged us to watch the fireworks across Los Angeles.
“Isn’t that beautiful,” Walter said looking down.
From my middle seat, I took a glance and nodded admirably.
“That’s white man’s country,” he said. “We came here on Mayflower and turned Indian land into a paradise and now the most powerful nation on earth. We discovered the bulb, and built this aircraft to fly us to pleasure resorts like Lake Zambia.”
I grinned. “There is no Lake Zambia.”

He curled his lips into a smug smile. “That’s what we call your country. You guys are as stagnant as the water in the lake. We come in with our large boats and fish your minerals and your wildlife and leave morsels—crumbs. That’s your staple food, crumbs. That corn-meal you eat, that’s crumbs, the small Tilapia fish you call Kapenta is crumbs. We the Bwanas (whites) take the cat fish. I am the Bwana and you are the Muntu. I get what I want and you get what you deserve, crumbs. That’s what lazy people get—Zambians, Africans, the entire Third World.”
The smile vanished from my face.
“I see you are getting pissed off,” Walter said and lowered his voice. “You are thinking this Bwana is a racist. That’s how most Zambians respond when I tell them the truth. They go ballistic. Okay. Let’s for a moment put our skin pigmentations, this black and white crap, aside. Tell me, my friend, what is the difference between you and me?”
“There’s no difference.”
“Absolutely none,” he exclaimed. “Scientists in the Human Genome Project have proved that. It took them thirteen years to determine the complete sequence of the three billion DNA subunits. After they were all done it was clear that 99.9% nucleotide bases were exactly the same in you and me. We are the same people. All white, Asian, Latino, and black people on this aircraft are the same.”
I gladly nodded.

“And yet I feel superior,” he smiled fatalistically. “Every white person on this plane feels superior to a black person. The white guy who picks up garbage, the homeless white trash on drugs, feels superior to you no matter his status or education. I can pick up a nincompoop from the New York streets, clean him up, and take him to Lusaka and you all be crowding around him chanting muzungu, muzungu and yet he’s a riffraff. Tell me why my angry friend.”

For a moment I was wordless.
“Please don’t blame it on slavery like the African Americans do, or colonialism, or some psychological impact or some kind of stigmatization. And don’t give me the brainwash poppycock. Give me a better answer.”

I was thinking.
He continued. “Excuse what I am about to say. Please do not take offense.”
I felt a slap of blood rush to my head and prepared for the worst.
“You my friend flying with me and all your kind are lazy,” he said. “When you rest your head on the pillow you don’t dream big. You and other so-called African intellectuals are damn lazy, each one of you. It is you, and not those poor starving people, who is the reason Africa is in such a deplorable state.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say,” I protested.

He was implacable. “Oh yes it is and I will say it again, you are lazy. Poor and uneducated Africans are the most hardworking people on earth. I saw them in the Lusaka markets and on the street selling merchandise. I saw them in villages toiling away. I saw women on Kafue Road crushing stones for sell and I wept. I said to myself where are the Zambian intellectuals? Are the Zambian engineers so imperceptive they cannot invent a simple stone crusher, or a simple water filter to purify well water for those poor villagers? Are you telling me that after thirty-seven years of independence your university school of engineering has not produced a scientist or an engineer who can make simple small machines for mass use? What is the school there for?”

I held my breath.

“Do you know where I found your intellectuals? They were in bars quaffing. They were at the Lusaka Golf Club, Lusaka Central Club, Lusaka Playhouse, and Lusaka Flying Club. I saw with my own eyes a bunch of alcoholic graduates. Zambian intellectuals work from eight to five and spend the evening drinking. We don’t. We reserve the evening for brainstorming.”

He looked me in the eye.
“And you flying to Boston and all of you Zambians in the Diaspora are just as lazy and apathetic to your country. You don’t care about your country and yet your very own parents, brothers and sisters are in Mtendere, Chawama, and in villages, all of them living in squalor. Many have died or are dying of neglect by you. They are dying of AIDS because you cannot come up with your own cure. You are here calling yourselves graduates, researchers and scientists and are fast at articulating your credentials once asked—oh, I have a PhD in this and that—PhD my foot!”
I was deflated.

“Wake up you all!” he exclaimed, attracting the attention of nearby passengers. “You should be busy lifting ideas, formulae, recipes, and diagrams from American manufacturing factories and sending them to your own factories. All those research findings and dissertation papers you compile should be your country’s treasure. Why do you think the Asians are a force to reckon with? They stole our ideas and turned them into their own. Look at Japan, China, India, just look at them.”

He paused. “The Bwana has spoken,” he said and grinned. “As long as you are dependent on my plane, I shall feel superior and you my friend shall remain inferior, how about that? The Chinese, Japanese, Indians, even Latinos are a notch better. You Africans are at the bottom of the totem pole.”

He tempered his voice. “Get over this white skin syndrome and begin to feel confident. Become innovative and make your own stuff for god’s sake.”

At 8 a.m. the plane touched down at Boston’s Logan International Airport. Walter reached for my hand.
“I know I was too strong, but I don’t give it a damn. I have been to Zambia and have seen too much poverty.” He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something. “Here, read this. It was written by a friend.”
He had written only the title: “Lords of Poverty.”

Thunderstruck, I had a sinking feeling. I watched Walter walk through the airport doors to a waiting car. He had left a huge dust devil twirling in my mind, stirring up sad memories of home. I could see Zambia’s literati—the cognoscente, intelligentsia, academics, highbrows, and scholars in the places he had mentioned guzzling and talking irrelevancies. I remembered some who have since passed—how they got the highest grades in mathematics and the sciences and attained the highest education on the planet. They had been to Harvard, Oxford, Yale, Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), only to leave us with not a single invention or discovery. I knew some by name and drunk with them at the Lusaka Playhouse and Central Sports.

Walter is right. It is true that since independence we have failed to nurture creativity and collective orientations. We as a nation lack a workhorse mentality and behave like 13 million civil servants dependent on a government pay cheque. We believe that development is generated 8-to-5 behind a desk wearing a tie with our degrees hanging on the wall. Such a working environment does not offer the opportunity for fellowship, the excitement of competition, and the spectacle of innovative rituals.

But the intelligentsia is not solely, or even mainly, to blame. The larger failure is due to political circumstances over which they have had little control. The past governments failed to create an environment of possibility that fosters camaraderie, rewards innovative ideas and encourages resilience. KK, Chiluba, Mwanawasa, and Banda embraced orthodox ideas and therefore failed to offer many opportunities for drawing outside the line.

I believe King Cobra’s reset has been cast in the same faculties as those of his predecessors. If today I told him that we can build our own car, he would throw me out.

“Naupena? Fuma apa.” (Are you mad? Get out of here)

Knowing well that King Cobra will not embody innovation at Walter’s level let’s begin to look for a technologically active-positive leader who can succeed him after a term or two. That way we can make our own stone crushers, water filters, water pumps, razor blades, and harvesters. Let’s dream big and make tractors, cars, and planes, or, like Walter said, forever remain inferior.

A fundamental transformation of our country from what is essentially non-innovative to a strategic superior African country requires a bold risk-taking educated leader with a triumphalist attitude and we have one in YOU. Don’t be highly strung and feel insulted by Walter. Take a moment and think about our country. Our journey from 1964 has been marked by tears. It has been an emotionally overwhelming experience. Each one of us has lost a loved one to poverty, hunger, and disease. The number of graves is catching up with the population. It’s time to change our political culture. It’s time for Zambian intellectuals to cultivate an active-positive progressive movement that will change our lives forever. Don’t be afraid or dispirited, rise to the challenge and salvage the remaining few of your beloved ones.

Field Ruwe is a US-based Zambian media practitioner and author. He is a PhD candidate with a B.A. in Mass Communication and Journalism, and an M.A. in History.

http://africanspotlight.com/2012/02/you-lazy-intellectual-african-scum-by-field-ruwe/

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