₦airaland Forum

MY TAKE
GSS KURU AT 80(MY FIRST DAY IN KURU).

After writing the common entrance in 1996, I was optimistic that my name would come out for the interview of Airforce boy’s college, but to my dismay the person who went to check the list came back and informed us that my name was not on the board. It was later on in life that I found out that he checked the list for Air force girls and not boys. That’s why I don’t understand the concept of destiny and chance. Was it my destiny not to go to Air force boys college? or it happened by mere coincidence that the man checked a different list. When I ponder on the ideology of destiny and chance, I easily lean towards the submission that there is no such thing as destiny. I prefer the ideology that, we are the Captains of our ships and the masters of our souls, for example, if I didn't choose to write this piece on kuru at 80yrs,I just wouldn't.

To cut the long story short, my uncle, Chief Elisha(Chago) Dachor brought an admission letter for G.S.S. Kuru. He got a lot of us enrolled into Kuru. Guys like Enoch G Luka, Nelson Dada, Bwaje Iyakwari . Though, they all ran away before we graduated because of serious beating.

On the fateful day I was supposed to resume school, I went to buy an iron bucket and upon my arrival I learned that Douglas Dada and Nelson Dada had already left because I was supposed to hitch a free ride. So my dad had to get a car from their office to take me.I was so excited about the fact that this would be the first time I would be leaving home to go and stay at a place unsupervised by my parents.

It was a smooth ride to Kuru as I enjoyed the scenery from Dadin Kowa to Kuru. Upon reaching the gate of the school, I saw an inscription on the gate that made my heart to sink and skip a bit. That inscription was “Discipline and Hardwork”; I brushed the thoughts that were forming in my head aside, that may be, they were just mere words. Later on, those words would come into life to always send a chill up my spine anytime I see words like discipline and hard work joined together in a sentence. As we drove into the school, I felt a special kind of chill entering my bones, I was to later find out that it was because Kuru was closer to the highest mountain in Nigeria. Geographers can agree with me that the higher you climb, the cooler it becomes.

As we drove past the hostels which were 6 in number, the first three hostels comprised of 20 rooms each while the last three were upstairs partitioned into cabins. All the hostels were named after the famous first class chiefs in the then Plateau state before Nasarawa state was carved out. EK was Emir of Keffi house(Pink house) , L.G was Long Goemai house(Red house), OR was Orie Rindre house(blue house), was Gbong Gwom house(Green house), GN was Ngolon Ngas (Yellow house), AD was Andoma of Doma house(white house).

We drove towards the principal’s office and to be honest the architecture of those offices were simply superb, the first time I would see buildings made of stones and not blocks. The flowers are the only kind that grow in Jos, a well pedicured lawn and very beautiful landscape.
When we entered the principal’s office, there he was sitted behind his desk. A little well-built bulky man with an expressionless face. His face looked like it was carved from a stone with a full moustache on it. There was something in his eyes that reminded me of the inscription I saw on the gate of the school, ” DISCIPLINE AND HARDWORK”. On his desk was a name tag with the names Solomon D. Danfa, I was to later find out that his nick name was “Koda Baban ka wai ne.” He was named that because he didn’t give a hoots ass who your father was, even though the children of the high and mighty were there, Sons of Generals, Politicians and most of the big names, but his beating was equal and directly proportional to your buttocks,ko da baban ka wai ne. Seated close to him was a frailly looking old white man wearing transparent glasses with a flute hanging around his neck. His name was Papa Lewis, the composer of the famous Kuru anthem “we are the boys of Kuru”.

After the necessary registration, I was assigned a hostel house. We drove to the hostel for documentation but before I got assigned to a room, there was a little commotion. I was to later find out that it was caused by one of the most interesting characters in the entire school. Rumour had it that apart from JSS one, he had repeated all the classes from JSS2-SS2. That automatically meant he had spent 10years in Kuru. Make no mistake, what he lacked in intellectual capacity he made up for with his entrepreneurial skills. What he did was, once a big man’s son was sent to house, he had a way of making sure that boy was taken to his room. So I am sure because of the car which my dad collected from his office, which took me to school that fateful day, this senior miscalculated that I was the son of a big man. That was how I ended up in room 13 filled with the children of the high and mighty. In that room were the children of Senator Nasir Ibrahim Mantu, Amb Yahaya Kwande, Major Gambo Yilme, Adagazo, Shuli Kulli, the Kromtits, the Eigege’s, the Kuforoji’s and so on. I happened to be the only one who no one had heard my father’s name ��.I was to see first hand why Nigeria is Nigeria. You have to have a big name, or know someone, that knows someone that knows somebody. Me I didn’t know anyone, I learned the art of survival and politicking, because there was no way you will be in senior Baba J’s room without being any of those. This adaptation will help me later on in the future.

I dragged my iron box and iron bucket into the room. I was asked to open the box for inspection. Just 2 pairs of white shirts over white trousers, 2 pairs of blue shirts over blue trousers, stockings, inner wears, 2 measures of garri, half measure of sugar and N50 as my pocket money. The astonished look on his face made me to laugh, as if to ask, is this it? The other boys used to bring cornflakes, corn beef, sardines, assorted biscuits,Dano milk and all those other things ajebos take and here was I with just 2 measures of garri and sugar. There was no way he could return me to the house master for reallocation, so he was kind of stuck with me.

We went for debriefing in front of the house captain’s room room 8; believe me everything in that school was arranged as if you were in a military environment. The house captain was a soft spoken guy who addressed us like an elder brother; he was an official of the FCS and was a good singer and drama actor too Atomistic Atomen . After his address the tradition began. Some rough looking seniors came out from their rooms with belts and freshly plucked long sticks, for the famous tradition called CUTTING TAIL. The briefly taught us the songs before cutting our tails. The song was:
I am a fresher.
I have a long tail.
I am a working materiaaaal
I must obey the school regulation
Pardon me all senioooorrrrrrrrs.

Men, this was the first time I was to chop the first real beating of my life. We were asked to line up and face the back of the person standing next to you, squat down and hold the waist of the guys next to you. It was called “chain frog jump”, unlike the frog jump we did in the primary school, this frog jump was the real thing,matured frog jump for I couldn’t walk properly for days. Each of us must have received at least a 100 strokes of the cane each, just to welcome us. In my mind I asked, if this was a welcome, I wonder what would happen to you if you committed a crime. I heard all manners of cries that day, some were calling for their mothers, there was not a single mother in sight, just beating. After the cutting tail,I went to the room, I was told the cutting tail we had outside was general cutting tail, I had another cutting tail to welcome me to the room.

I cried so hard that night, that I suspect there was not a single tear left inside of me. I longed for the embrace of my mother, to tell me all will be alright. My mother was many kilometres away from me. It was just me with these strange fellows, who kept yelling at me to stop crying as I was disturbing their sleep.

For the first time I questioned the love of my parents. How would you say I am your son and you send me to this kind of environment? I made a resolve that night, that I had to toughen up, be cunning, be smart, never caught off guard, be unpredictable, be religious because if I had to survive the rest of my stay here I had to be all those things, not knowing this would be the same thing that would mould us and shapen our lives for the future.

The rest is history as they say, not until I had left kuru for many years did i finally grasp what Papa Lewis meant in his last stanza of Kuru's anthem

LAST STANZA
And when we have gone from Kuru
for time will not stay
we are here but a day
Tis then we’ll be glad that Kuru
Has helped us upon our way
For when; in distance places far
Troubles press
Temptations lure
We’ll always have this guiding star
For then we’ll remember Kuru
For we’re the sons of Kuru
We’ll strive and we’ll stay as
Well as we may
Tis then we’ll remember Kuru
Has helped us upon our way.

Gaza Mark Auta( G code)
The rose that grew on concrete
Set 2002

MY TAKE
ST VALENTINE'S DAY MASSACRE

The celebration of valentine is actually not a celebration of love,there are a lot of gory stories associated with this celebration. How it managed to be celebrated as a day of love is a story for another day. The origin of this celebration is definitely shrouded in secrecy in the vault of the Vatican city with other secrets but let me just give two stories on its origination.

1. It was written in 1477
Emperor Claudius II had banned marriage because he thought married men were bad soldiers. Valentine felt this was unfair, so he broke the rules and arranged marriages in secret.

When Claudius found out, Valentine was thrown in jail and sentenced to death.

There, he fell in love with the jailer's daughter and when he was taken to be killed on 14 February he sent her a love letter signed "from your Valentine". He was beheaded,now how a man's beheading is linked to love in the 21st century beats my imagination.

2.The Saint Valentine's Day Massacre was the 1929 murder of seven members and associates of Chicago's North Side Gang that occurred on Saint Valentine's Day. The men were gathered at a Lincoln Park garage on the morning of that feast day, February 14th. They were lined up against a wall and shot by four unknown assailants who were dressed like police officers. The incident resulted from the struggle to control organized crime in the city during Prohibition between the Irish North Siders, headed by George "Bugs" Moran, and their Italian South Side Gang rivals led by Al Capone.[1] The perpetrators have never been conclusively identified, but former members of the Egan's Rats gang working for Capone are suspected of a role, as are members of the Chicago Police Department who allegedly wanted revenge for the killing of a police officer's son. This whole thing was orchestrated by Al Capone,yes the same gang lord Al Capone. So how multiple killings is associated with love beats my imagination.

Love is supposed to be celebrated everyday,you don't need to wear red which is a depiction of the blood that have been sacrificed to prove love.

In other words happy St Valentine's day massacre.

WORDS ON MARBLE
Love is in the air,
wrong, nitrogen, oxygen and carbon dioxide is in the air.

MY TAKE
WHEN THE DEVIL SITS TO TAKE NOTES

Watching an old movie last week about the life and times of Moses the law giver, I picked one important lesson. Moses was the son of a slave who accidentally found himself as an apparent heir to the throne of Egypt. According to the bible,Egypt was the superpower of the world at the time. The king,the father of Ramses was really devastated when he learned of the fact that Moses was a slave and not royalty. It broke him to the point that he died shortly afterwards. However,history doesn't say much about the woman that brought Moses into the Palace,the sister to the king. She lied that Moses was her child.

Someone was asking the other day that between men and women,who cheats the most? Well I have a different analogy, when a man lies(cheats) the world can go to sleep and life moves on the next day but when a woman lies(cheats),it changes the course of history and the world as we know it. Let me give you an example, when a man lies it goes like this.
Wife: your phone has been ringing,why are you not picking?
Husband: Its my colleague from work, if I pick now,they might ask me to come to the office or give me extra work at home.

Or
Wife: why are you coming back this late?
Husband: I ran into some old friends and we had a few drinks.

Or
Wife:Why do you have nudes in your phone?
Husband: I am in a wassap group that one fool mistakenly posted nudes and it automatically stored up in my phone.�

Now you see the nature of lies told by men? The world moves on but when a woman lies or cheats hmmm. A man could have trained and loved his children for 30years and his wife wakes up one morning after a heated argument and tells him,after all those children don't belong to you.

I read about an article which said, 1 in every 25 men are unknowingly raising children that are not biologically related to them. In my opinion, that's the worst and most evil thing that can ever happen to any man. A Nigerian Judge had a press conference last week informing members of the public that 3 out of 4 of his children don't belong to him. What he is going through can only best be imagined.

I have always had the believe that what we do in life doesn't just echo in history but also eternity. There is nothing wrong in knowing the paternity of your children,these are dangerous times. If you can afford a DNA test,do it,for it is wrong for a man to unknowingly raise another man's child because when a woman wants to lie even the devil sits to take notes.

Follow me on Facebook as G code Mark Auta for very interesting topics.

Ardar
Because the Doctor was the boy's mother. Meaning even women validate the inferiority complex.

Crazy Ben,I guess I have more to learn.

MY TAKE
MY CONVERSATION WITH A FEMINIST

I remember watching a movie called ‘what women want' by Mel Gibson. It was about a man who could listen to the thoughts and subconscious thinking of women. Do I envy that guy, never. I think women are the most complex yet simple of the human species called homo sapiens. I have observed with a lot of concern, how the present generation of women have become so bitter and toxic, all in the name of feminism.

I have a friend who has done well as an entrepreneur, she paints well and just recently released a book. She has a lot going on for her. She's always about feminism this, feminism that. So I decided to engage her in a mindthrubbing discussion, I asked her, what is feminism? She told me a lot of things, that if I choose to write might take a whole book. So I decided to tell her a story ending with a trick question. I told her, a man was travelling with his son and they had an accident. The man died and the son was rushed to the hospital, upon getting to the hospital, as soon as the doctor saw the boy, the doctor shouted this is my son. So I asked Mrs feminism, who this doctor was to the boy. She gave me several answers asking if it was his uncle or stepfather.

I don’t have a problem with feminism, I’m a supporter of feminism 100% but I am not a supporter of toxicity, bitterness and arrogance of ignorance in the name of feminism. I personally believe women have been short-changed not just in our society alone but this phenomenon has cultural and religious undertone too. For example while growing up my dad used to frown when he saw me in the kitchen, he would say the kitchen wasn’t a man’s place, however I’ve always been indifferent. I remember him coming home one day quite hungry,the women were not around, he asked if there was food, which I served him. He said the meal was delicious and in my mind I said to myself, hunger no know whether na man or woman cook food ooo.

We have missed a lot of opportunities towards advancing our world in science, medicine, astronomy, physics, economics and so on, simply for the fact that they were proposed by women. I personally feel women do better than some men in most spheres. Growing up, I’ve always known that a woman is stronger than a man, owing to the fact that their strength lies in their weakness. Have you ever seen a woman who was in love and her heart was broken? She could be the most calculative and peecise being on earth. Chris Rock once said, if women ruled the world, there would be no wars only a bunch of countries not talking to each other. Well which one is better? Going to war or not talking to each other? Haven't the men being emasculated too,a man is only valued(loved), when he is productive,if he is not,society looks down on him.

The widow spider is an interesting specie of spiders, the female spider lures the male for intercourse, after they are done, she kills the male and eats him up. I have never seen the male spider protesting that they will not have sex with the widow spiders again because they feel 'SPIDER-CULATED'.

I will distinguish myself by saying, to understand feminism correctly and not the aberration being projected by members of covens with multi-variate tantrums void of virtue or responsibility. Feminism should speak to equity (fairness) more than equality (ranking). It’s about mutual respect void of prejudices. In a feminist world we live now, I don’t want to believe her money is her money while my money is our money according to Ren0 omokri. We have to put into consideration the benefits the men used to achieve in those times when women were not expected to be the bread maker. I have studied some of these feminists closely such as Beyoncé, Ngozi Nkonjo-Iweala, Chimamanda Adichie etc. They have very lovely families and i am sure they don’t teach these new generation of feminists the indulgence of compromise in a relationship between men and women. There was a judgement in one of the courts that favoured inheritance for women of Igbo origin, though a drop in an ocean but it's a good start.

Once people like my feminist friend whom I told the story to, would without thinking for a second know that the doctor in the story was the mother of the boy, then we would have made headway. Just like a saying I saw in a bathroom at Avis in Jos, ‘the only way out is in'.
By Gaza Mark Auta

Song recommendation
So a child may follow.......by Damian Marley

words on marble
I have never seen a man that walked with God and ever regretted it....... Billy Graham

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