Hidentity's Posts
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The turbulence seemed to be in conformity with the playful nature of the sinuously moving sea, as the whole environment was bereft of the usual visitors. One could guess the reason why a beach so famous would look deserted on that beautiful morning as the sun streaked across the palm leaves with its panoply of friendly rays to caress Adim's well shaven head- no responsible man would ignore his hustle to savour the beauty of the sea on a Monday morning. On a second thought, the definition of responsibility is subjective, a poet with a pen and a pad at the sea side would probably not be qualified as an irresponsible fellow. His was an exception to the approbation and reprobation- if doing what needed be done at the right time qualified as being responsible, Adim deserved an Oscar for that. Yet, without being a poet, life had offered him a free ticket to stare at the sea like his life depended on it. His usual routine after each knock down by life was to confide in nature, and discuss his mountain of troubles with the uninterested swans, and he had meant to amuse himself by the sea view and the badinage of imaginative blues. Adim was a promising young man from the Eastern part of the country steadily watered by the mighty Atlantic. For Adim, any job would do. Even as a graduate, he had worked as a bus conductor with Musiliu, the no nonsense 'danfo' driver. However, the relationship did not last as Adim was accused of being too civil and gentle with passengers on a daily basis. 'Woo, ma kana, emi o raye oshi o, break him mouth, ko de gba senji mi.' Musiliu had interjected in this manner with his heavy accent one day while Adim was pleading with a stubborn passenger to pay in full. When Musiliu realized that Adim was nothing near an aggressive street pugilist, he opted for a suitable employee to the consternation of Adim as the bus left the park that day with the hyperactive new conductor chanting 'wole pelu senji e ooo, iya mi o le pariwo o' (enter with your change, my mother can't shout). As early as 4:00 am on the second day, Adim left the bakery where he stayed as a tenant at sufferance. After hours of moving from one firm to the other with nothing to show for it, he met himself where he left himself- the state of joblessness. Soon enough, hunger started playing pranks on him, he could feel the sharp touch deep inside him. To beat that, he licked his dry lips and swallowed his saliva with the psychological pretence of drinking a cup of water. That should do, he thought to himself. After all, he ate two nights back and he expected that his tommy should flow in tune with the reality of his pocket. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 'Nothing is too small to help me, may God not throw you in eternal darkness.' The pathetic looking old man chanted repeatedly in a Nigerian language as he staggered on the quick sand with his walking stick and a black bag. The scent of his locally made lavender seized Adim's breath as the tender breeze had a break to pave way for the uninvited passerby. Adim looked at the direction the unsolicited prayer was coming from and sharply looked away to avoid the likelihood of giving out the #10 on him. The silent voice from within got louder 'come on, you are here alone with this wretched thing, grab him by the neck and dispossess him.' In reply, Adim licked his lips again, gathered a handful of saliva and sent it down his demanding intestine. But for once, his nature would fail him- the hunger grew stronger and uncontrollable. He stood up from the sand, dusted his old khaki trousers and began to cantillate the phrases of the beggar's mantra silently, as he walked after the beggar who was religiously singing the beggars' argot while struggling to get his steps in the quick sand. 'This is the Lord's doing! What would a beggar be doing at the beach? Why would God leave us all alone if we are not here to help ourselves? People will give him more...' Adim muttered those words silently as he increased his pace. He dug his left hand in his pocket and brought out the faded #10 note. His conscience whispered 'offer him this and God shall repay you.' It was too late to have a rethink, he caught up with the old man and grabbed him from the back. Carefully, he removed the black leather bag and made away with it as the old man struggled to remove the turban covering his face in an effort to put up a fight. It was too late, Adim was beyond gone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 'The position of the law is clear. The offence of arm robbery is one that is grave in law. It gets worse when like in the circumstance of this case, lives were claimed...' These were the words of the learned Judge as Adim stood manacled in the dock. How could he explain that he was not the original robber? Who would believe him if he said he got the black bag from the old beggar? Why can't this just be a dream? Agreed, he should be punished for letting circumstance determine his fate, but not as a robber! Can circumstance just take him back to the point he was dieting on his own saliva? These questions kept emerging in Adim's mind as the emergence of one made the other vanished without an answer. The judge continued 'the evidence against you is overwhelming, you robbed a family, took the lives of three persons and ran with their money. Nemesis is faster and it has caught up with you... The judgement of this Court upon you is that you be hung by the neck until you be dead, may the Lord have mercy on your soul.' Adim was led out into the waiting vehicle. Right at the other side of the road, he saw a crowd of beggars taking positions to seek their daily bread. He begged to satisfy the humble request of his conscience as his hands were freed to allow his last act of kindness. He put his hand in his pocket and brought out the #10 note. He was accosted to the other side of the road as he handed the faded note to one of the old beggars wearing hats. 'Nagode,' the old beggars chorused in appreciation. Adim was made to turn back in continuation of the journey to the end. Right behind him was the gang of robbers that committed the crime he was going to pay for. No one knew that, let alone realizing that the disguised old man Adim met at the beach was the notorious gang leader in whose guilty hand Adim just dropped his last #10 note... 'Author: Hidentity From the Hidden book of Sorry Tales.
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I hope Nigerians win too. Each time I see news like this, I do wish that it would translate to Remi Tinubu's victory secures a future for an orphan or that Obanikoro's appointment brings a ripple of hope for a homeless man. The truth is that the whole political drama is recycling in nature. Go read the profile of most people that led and are still leading- either blood relatives, godfathers and godchildren relationship etc. Is it now strange that again, the tenure would change but the live of the common man won't change? Same old brains, same old ways in a new tenure. The Chibok girls will still move deeper into destination unknown tonight, Somewhere, robbers bullet would put an end to the life of a poor man, On the road they refused to fix, an accident would occur again and innocent men would bear the pain But again, we won't wise up, we would still vote for the one who does not care what becomes of us in the next 4 years. |
kayceerilyn:I am humbled by your submission friend. No good drama can exist without people watching it. Thanks a lot, I appreciate you. |
theunusualmoon:At all sir. I am not even interested in their religions. I only observed that their contributions are almost always apt and laudable. After all, the proposed thread is not for the sake of religion. So, whether Christians, Muslims, atheists, pagans, believers in Janism or anything, it does not matter. |
driand:Friend, look out for politically informed and intelligent members on this forum. Get a worthwhile topic for a thread like A thread for Nigerian youths on Nigerian Politics, Nigerian youths thread for leadership confab or any other good topic. Then tag people who are politically informed and sound in their submissions on different topics. I know of Mynd, Barcanista, Seun, urnaijadotcom, and immortal crown. |
Without prejudice to Governor Okorocha, a picture like this reminds me of the difference between what people see you as and what you are deep inside. I wish that Nigerian politicians could actually come to the level of the common men even when these people are not there to speak for their interest. The truth is that the friendship between our leaders and those of us being lead is almost always temporal- election time. Now, the strange thing is that as commoners, we tend to forget so fast how we cannot even slow down in the front of the government house, how the bags of rice they share only come once in 4 years, how they would pose with a petty trader to show their humble disposition only during election period. After that, the hustle, tussle and struggle begin afresh... Many hidden prospects under tattered shirts. It is high time we asked the questions that are of the essence to our lives. When I think about the polity, the first set of people that comes to my mind is those in my constituency- the Nigerian youths. I read about how someone became a Nigerian minister before the age of 25 yesterday. Today, what do we have? A mere lip appraisal of the importance of youths in nation building. Think about this- they would rather approach our old parents in the markets to campaign than approach universities to address us. Yet, the policies would affect us the most. Strange enough, the same youths they ignore would troop out to cast their votes for them, unleash mayhem in their support and attack others for their sake. Truth be told, I have observed that there is a shift in the efficiency and effectiveness of our ideas and intelligence as youths. The polity has altered our reasoning skills that we no longer pay attention to the things that matter. We are busy with more important this like the match between Manchester United and Arsenal, the bet on Lionel Messi and Ronaldo. While following Amber Rose on twitter, we did not know when our welfare was 'unfollowed' by our leaders. We are busy with the latest music videos and the trending nude picture of another person. We are not interested in the matches that affect our lives the most- the match of the polity and how it is managed. From the leaders of tomorrow, we are negligently and dangerously becoming the former leaders of tomorrow. Now I ask, can a bad society birth good individuals? Check online outfits like this, comments and topics that attract people the most are almost always worthless and of no value. Unemployment, poverty, insecurity, illiteracy and other anomalies hit our constituency the most, yet we won't just GROW up. What will be will be, but if that is to be, it is up to YOU. |
Governor Fayose is a typical example of a product of a troubled society. One keeps wondering how a person of his kind would be what he is all in the name of being a grassroot politician. As a people, we need be educated on how WHO we are cannot be considered in isolation from WHAT we are or what we want to be. Ironically, in Nigeria we do not assess people on the grounds of decency, credibility, integrity, dignity, decorum and leadership traits. You see people with comments like 'oh, he ate at a local restaurant? he won my heart.' Nigerian politicians make the best of actors in the political stage, give them the role and see how they mess up the polity. This is a man who would rather slander and publish libelous things about another candidate than face his role as the leader of a highly respected state. Yet, you see YOUTHS with fists up celebrating his 'incredibility' on the street. MY FEAR: Why our equals inherit a sound system based on incredible ideologies in other parts of the world, we are left at the mercy of a failing state. The bridge between OPTIMISM and PESSIMISM is REALITY. An optimist believes he would fly one day, a pessimist sees that as practically impossible. A realist strikes the plausible balance- he knows the optimist can fly, but not literarily, it could be by achieving that feat by being an authority in a chosen field. Majority of us queue on the platform of pessimism and optimism- we either 'overdream' or refuse to dream. Seeing things beyond the lenses of Ethic groups, religion, sex, social status and other sentiments would liberate us from the mental slavery and primitive mentality that the man who buys roasted corn by the road side won't forget those he met at the road side. |
Bonethugss:You got it sir. It is only a play on the humane part of you through psychology. You did not believe that such could happen because the humane part of you did not allow you get in term with the ending- it is tragic. He was not granted the financial aid. The little girl saw the letter instead of the money they expected was slipped in. She burst out crying because she knew that at that moment, what they needed was not an ordinary paper but money. You are not alone in that feeling, virtually all readers reacted the same way so far. Thanks for reading. |
"But don't you think you are getting engulfed in this ocean of debt? Your paltry pension with the missionary in 5 years can't even discharge the ones you have pending. Baba, say something." The Clerk asked with his eyes fixated on the letter delivered to him by the frail looking old man before him. The old man kept staring at the floor like the answer to the Clerk's question would erupt. The Clerk continued: "Baba, I mean, how do you intend to pay the debt you owe the missionary?" This time the old man managed to raise his head. Beyond his appearance was a frail man - his yellow eyeballs were revelation of years of awaited comfort that was destined not to come. His shaky hands and legs were evidences of his battle with something beyond the stress of old age. His feeble semi-skeletal structure was concealed in a faded blue garment which years of usage had endorsed with tears and patches. His cheeks twitched momentarily to the unheard beats of disappointment, as he struggled unsuccessfully to hold his tears back. For almost 40 years, Baba, as he was popularly called in the village had been the guard at the only missionary school in the village. He was the father of Ibe, the boy drowned in the only village river by the fury of the village god. After Ibe, Baba's only hope remained Ini. Though she was not his biological daughter, Baba sure deserved all the dividends of parenting Ini. Ini's story was a sad tale in itself, yet it couldn’t rival Baba's yearly ‘waiting on the Lord’ every Sunday at the village church. What did Baba not do? Weeks of fasting induced by lack of resources, and the humiliating dance among agile men with the hope that the Lord of the dance would perform wonders. Baba supported the church with his presence in every programme, but his name never appeared on the donor's register. Moments of fetching fire woods and clearing bushes for money are not left out. He was relieved of his duty as a guard when robbers attacked, tied baba up and bolted with properties. "Baba!", the Clerk shouted. Baba jolted back from his prolonged introspection-one which did not change his sorry tales in 76 years. With a voice, baba replied with the last ripple of hope in his dying voice: "Please, consider my status for the sake of Ini, my little girl. I am ailing and my kidneys are failing. The white man at the Clinic asked me to pay a few pounds, I need your help. I know I am indebted, even Ini would inherit the estate of debt. See that letter in your hand, she wrote, and my neighbour said she is brilliant. Please, let me push her up so that she can clear my debts. If I'm able to support her, she can become a sanitary inspector and wear those uniforms like the white people. Let the disappointment of dying unfulfilled end by my demise. Don't let it roll over to my little girl. With an act of kindness, let me live to break this ancestral curse."Caught again by Baba's helpless narrative, the Clerk responded: "All right, I will look into your matter and check at your place to give you a feedback." After minutes of thanking the Clerk, Baba made to leave, but as he rose from the wooden chair, his gown felt like a fabric of iron, he struggled with a step, but his weak knees betrayed him. It was the sound of him falling that invited the Clerk's attention. Opening his eyes at the village clinic, he saw little Ini looking lost in the world she found herself. She had braved the cold night and the insect bites to watch over Baba on what could be his death bed. A lady entered and faced Ini, "baba is dying, we need move him to the city. Who can help you with some pounds?" The apparently lost Ini could only grab the words but not the message. However, Baba taught her that all solutions lies with God, and that one day, God would pay their heavy debt and bring them loads of comfort. Ini responded: "Baba said God would pay. I still talked to God in Church this morning. He was on the cross, though he said nothing, but he was staring at me. I don't know why he is not here yet." Sensing Ini's seeming lack of appreciation of the issue at hand, the lady dashed out. Then with his hand, Baba beckoned on Ini to move closer to him. He whispered something which obviously only Ini was destined to hear. The little girl ran out of the Clinic, through the bushy path, she made for the missionary school where Baba worked for 40 years. She got there and went straight to the Clerk's office. "Good morning sir, Baba asked me to come back with the little you can help us with." The Clerk peeped through his desk to behold the little girl standing before his desk. The missionary had told him there was no loan option for Baba, and he had acted in consonance. "When baba slumped here, I slipped it into his pocket. Go back and check." The poor girl rushed out of the Clinic. On her way, she stopped at the church to remind the God on the cross of her earlier request, but the entrance door to the church was shut. So, she couldn't get a feedback from God. Ini got back to the clinic and related the outcome to Baba. At that point, he could neither move his hands nor legs, and life was ebbing out of him in instalments. He managed a whisper and Ini picked up his gown from the wooden chair. After some minutes of struggling with it, she finally located the pocket. She stood still staring at its content like the audience at a magic show. "What is that?’ Baba struggled to ask. "The thing in your pocket", said Ini who burst into tears as she ran towards Baba on his death bed. Baba managed to look up. In Ini's little hand was a letter written in the grammar of a 5 year old-it was the letter of assistance baba took to the Clerk yesterday. |
googlepikin:Friend, must you flood every single topic with this post? Agreed, you are working for your daily bread, but be sensitive to the attitude of others towards this unsolicited and unappreciated self-coined opinion. I do not like taking on people for any reason. However, I've seen this on close to 5 topics now. Why? Let us be diplomatic and sensitive as we scramble for a few thousands during this time. |
Marvin67:Nice opinion OP. Well coined but please it is not just okay to call GEJ the father of modern democracy. He is not near it. Just leave it at that. |
Airforce1:How far Airforce1? Our album ![]() |
WARNING: This piece has the tendency of raising the blood pressure of any career Jonathanian- young or old. Doctors of literature advised that such people should stop at this point... I have come to realize that nothing in life is an exception to the law of diminishing return. That law is a stubborn one, and one may not appreciate it if he did not follow how the law of diminishing return will return President Jonathan to Otuoke in a matter of weeks. Not just that, it is unrepentantly determined to bury President Jonathan- from the polity, from the good side of history, from taking another shot, from making the first impression the second time. It will bury him in the glare of the public- the highs and the lows. Even in the faces of those whose many crimes were pardoned to give him a chance to live again. Before the law does that, I have come to bury President Jonathan! President Jonathan is an ingrate and he has reaped the dividend of being one. He bit the fingers that fed him and insulted the same cup that gave him a taste of power. Like most of his predecessors, he dined and wined at the expense of the ordinary people, but unfortunately, unlike his predecessors, he broke his spine. For the purpose of simplifying this argument, let us forget everything that happened when Goodluck Jonathan was Deputy Governor under Governor Diepreiye Alamiesegha or when he was the governor of Bayelsa State following the impeachment of Alamiesegha for corruption - including the arrest of Mrs. Patience Jonathan for money laundering (redacted and deleted from the memory of Nuhu Ribadu and the EFCC). Let us forget all that happened when he was Vice President under President Musa Yar’Adua or Acting President following his death. Let us not even address the several misfortune that envelopes the polity. Let us just identify where and how he started digging his grave for this funeral we have gleefully come to grace. Let me not dignify impunity on the altar of statistics and online surveys. Those who felt the scourge of Jonathan's insensitivity and irresponsible government the most do not even know what survey or statistic means. They know things were harder than it used to be, so I should not rub salt on their injuries by any development index. The day I vowed never to embrace statistics again, at least for the little time left till Jonathan zooms to Otuoke was when a survey revealed Nigeria is the largest economy in Africa and it makes no difference in the lives of the ordinary man. President Jonathan's problem did not start the day he forgot the cries of the common men, it started the day he could not curb the excesses of his Mrs. In an ideal nation, people like Patience Jonathan are enrolled in a private tutorial for a space of two to three years. Yes, it will take that long because she deserves to be polished in many aspects- public speaking, public carriage, human relations and composure. It could extend to four years or more because a close observation reveals that her type is not teachable. Unfortunately, President Jonathan did not do this and the devil has banked on that to attend his bouffe- he must dance to stupor! Truth be told, in the just concluded election that called for this burial message, both critical and shallow analysts cannot underscore how much damage our comic first lady did to the dream of Mr. President. Is it the insensitive insult on the person of drivers and conductors? Is it the disgrace the elites felt because their contemporaries in other parts of the world mock them because of their eccentric first lady? Is it the unconstitutional and morally reprehensible rancour she ignited with the governor of Rivers state? Is it about how 'loyal' executive governors of states were seen kneeling before her at rallies? Is it about the abusive words on the Northerner which governor Kwankwaso frowned at? Or the desperate plea to the Oyo populace that prison is inevitable if Buhari should emerge victor? Think about it! This is not a criticism of her meddling in the affairs of the government, it is a criticism of her unfit status to do that. As if that was not enough clog on the wheel of Jonathan's second term ambition, an inconsiderate campaign committee of Jonathan pushed a person like Fani, the never repenting undoing of the nation to the campaign's most sensitive part. Since then, he had wrecked more havoc with words than the good he claimed his ancestors did to our nation. Like Fayose, the typical example of a national worry, Fani-Kayode created more enemy for President Jonathan than one can imagine. This is the Fani that insulted a whole integral part of the nation by making an issue out of his affairs with Bianca. He is the proverbial disappointed hunter that settled for lame ducks. He opened his mouth and polluted the polity. Fani-Kayode's decorous moment lies in his awareness of a possibility of an impartial panel, that would reveal to him that the walls of the prisons are not decorated. In conjunction with Fayose who disgracefully sold out the integrity of his state, they donated a giant plank for the construction of Jonathan's political coffin. They earnestly promoted the politics of hatred and ethnicity, it ricochetted like a bullet and hit the principal right in the most delicate part. Easy, they fought the good fight that would reveal where they belong- nowhere. For those who believe that Jonathan's irredeemable knock out was self induced, you have a point. The President himself never acted different from his reward triggered team of followers- he admitted his generation failed the nation right on the podium of his soliciting for another chance. He devoted more time destroying his key opponents than he did in building himself. Publicly, he did admitted that 'throwing every corrupt leaders in prison would leave us with no leader.' President Jonathan, I am here to bury you! President Jonathan flaunted his endurance at the gymnasium, but Nigeria needed that endurance in his fight against corruption. Sadly, Okupe never informed the President that the next election has nothing to do with muscle flexing. President Jonathan budgeted almost a billion annually on feeding, but Abati did not remind him the masses who sleep in hunger will determine how long the meal will last. President Jonathan shielded Alison Madueke from the searchlight of truth, but he could not shield himself from a shameful exit from the Aso compound. President Jonathan did not cease in his campaign against bias on the ground of religion and ethic group, yet the vice president openly charged the North against the opposition based on religion. Before I submit, it is worthy to do a brief review of how Jonathan met the policy less than five years back and how he would leave it. I have my opinion and assessment of this administration- it has been archived to tell a tale of a man who rose from grass to grace and then shamefully to irrelevance. Grab your pen and paper; access him on security, education, employment, poverty alleviation, youth empowerment and other areas that affect our lives. Then you will be proud that you played a role in burying Jonathan. Before now, President Jonathan was lucky that Nigerians were too busy with more important things – fighting over Chelsea and Manchester United fixtures. Placing a bet on Arsenal and the decision the coaches of each team make each Saturday and how the European league referees perform on the pitch. Before now, Nigerians have abandoned their own team, their own coaches, their own referees, their own pitch and the matches that affect their lives the most. Before now, Nigerians are busy following Iyanya and Amber Rose on twitter, they did not follow how their welfare has been unfollowed. Before President Jonathan is made to rest and shut his eyes to the reality of the political life, let all man learn a salient lesson- that there is no limit to where one can reach or what one can be in life. However, importantly, that there is also no limit to how low one can sink if he should turn his ears against the cries of those who pushed him up. Today, Jonathan’s luck ran out because Nigerians just grabbed a calculator and added up these billions, trillions, insults, pains, unkept promises and impunity. Wait! Is that to say Reuben Abati would go back to being an ordinary columnist that he was? Will President Jonathan go to Otuoke with Fani-Kayode and Okupe? Can you now see that the funeral the nation unified to organise is worth it? Then, is it mere exaggeration when I say; I come to bury Jonathan? Author: Hidentity Acknowledgement: Rudolf Ogoo Okonkwo |
Brymo:Please acknowledge the author of this. It is not okay to just be credited for another person's work. Let me help you, Douglas MacArthur said it. |
buygala:Ordinarily, I see replying a post of this nature as investing in folly. However, a child who grows In the midst of hostile relatives may grow wild, but a neighbourhood that tolerates such is unfair. Thus, the need to call weeds among flowers like you to order. I hate to trade words but then, I am afraid that you are a potential father of crooks because a dirty bottle can't birth a clean wine. So, for the sake of your unborn children, may I address you in a manner slightly crude. Buygala, when does standing for due procedure become a crime? When does calling for transparency call for a reply with bullet? I am thinking you were joking but then, it means you are insensitive. A man who does not use reasoning is a tamed beast, a man who abuses it is a wild one. Read your post again and determine where you belong. Your mentality and orientation is dangerous for an ideal environment. Wanted to suggest that you are put under surveillance but then, it would amount to an exercise in waste. The frustration let into the air by the government of the day has affected you psychologically- you can hardly reason like normal men. On few occasions when you do, it is unfortunate that people don't take you serious. Need I say you are lost in the world of illusion which you reached by walking the bridge of hatred? |
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Taylor184:winks |
After the 2015 General elections, Nigerian youths should have a rethink. Survey reveals that we cover 70% of the population, but in relevance we amount to almost nothing. We feel the consequence of a bad government the most- we lament unemployment, we are the perpetrators and receivers of criminal acts, our population suffers the most due to poor infrastructures, majority of victims of terrorism are either youths or intending youths... Yes, there is power in number, but the power in our number is reflected in political thuggery, illiteracy and crime. From the provision(s) of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria 1999 (as amended in 2011), one can say that the modern oracle, which is the LAW already spoke in our favour. Section 106 (b) stipulates that a person vying as a member of the State House of Assembly must be at least thirty years (30). Section 65 (1a & b) provides the thirty five years (35) minimum age requirement for a member of the National Assembly. Section 177 (b) provides for the minimum age of thirty five years (35) also for the state governor. For the President, Section 131 (b) provides for forty (40) years age requirement. Looking at these provisions, 30, 35 and 40 years are ages that should have afforded serious minded individuals all it takes to make a good leader. However, we settle for the offices of the President, National Association of Nigerian Students at age 40! Secretary National Union of Road Transport Workers at age 40 and other unions that are already politically chained. I am not looking down on these unions, but even most of them do not have what it takes to give us the nation we deserve. Are we intellectually poor or lacking in leadership traits to dare? Way forward? After the 2015 Election, let Nigerian youths come together and look beyond the lenses of ethnic groups, tribes, religion and sex to create a formidable political party. Let us go to the next poll and challenge the overgrown children of political anomalies that we CAN! That alone will show them that we have a strong stake in the running of the 1960-born nation. Let the said party see beyond pushing a candidate forward. Let it be a training ground for younger youths between the ages of 20 to 30. A person trained in leadership in such a setting would most likely not make a 'yeye' leader. Let the party challenge our leaders to debate on public affairs. Whether 54 or 72, they should be relegated to the role of elder statesmen, mentors, confidants and advisors. We have been modified by the advancement and the sophistication in the world, we should apply that to the modern problems. This election is a gamble, the next should not be. The era of intellectual revolution and politics based on issues knocks at the door. Won't you rather answer before the consequences of a failed state give our generation a memory erasing knock on the head? The kind of political party suggested above na him go do o. Na him go pay us so tey CHANGE wey go TRANSFORM us come take broom sweep poverty and carry umbrella cover us from terrorism go come. By the way #vote, not fight! |
Airforce1:Airforce1, how far with your album now? I've promised my friends heaven on earth when it comes out. Please don't fall my hand. Signed: the biggest fan of your yet to be sang song. |
Airforce1:Trust me, on any post about celebrities, I always look out for you. In fact, you are popular among my friends who are not on this forum at all. And yes I mean popular- you are known and liked. There is a way you present it that eases tension and create a sophisticated hilarious environment. If you are actually working on an album, you shall get there and please talk on your years of patiently waiting. If you are just making a joke with it, I like it. You are laughing gas personified. ![]() Airforce1:Trust me, on any post about celebrities, I always look out for you. In fact, you are popular among my friends who are not on this forum at all. And yes I mean popular- you are known and liked. There is a way you present it that eases tension and create a sophisticated hilarious environment. If you are actually working on an album, you shall get there and please talk on your years of patiently waiting. If you are just making a joke with it, I like it. You are laughing gas personified. |
Ahmed4002:Thank you sir. God bless you. |
Good evening friends. Please, I just did my online registration this night and I got my call up number immediately. However, there are three (3) fundamental errors of which two (2) were not so while filling my biodata online but reflected in the print out. 1: The title Chief, Miss, Mrs and Dr. are the only ones available online. None suited me because I expected to see something like Mr. I later settled for the safest I.e Dr. 2: My date of birth got modified from October 2 to October 1. 3: My gender got modified from male to female. Is there someone with similar challenges? Is there a way they can be rectified? What is the possible consequence(s) when I get to camp? What could be the cause of the problems? Any suggestion? Thank you. |
JackBaueress:My dear friend, please just ignore the insult on your person and all that. Those who feel that dividing us in the line of shallow propagandas knew it would work and it is working. It is a reflection of why we may not get it again this time. I am neither for Buhari nor Jonathan but I think a good candidate has better things to use in campaigning than things like this. Was it not a key spokesperson of the same PDP that went on insulting the woman folk by talking about his affairs with Bianca? To me, I was born a Nigerian before the categorization of tribe or religion further sets me apart. However, that first stage is what matters to me the most. I am Yoruba but I do not see anyone as Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa; I see all of us as Nigerians. That matters than any other thing. But if we lack the tolerance, foresight and strength of unity to appreciate that, I am afraid for us as a nation. I shudder at what the dungeon of divide we are digging will fetch us all. The loss won't be strict, it will be vicarious. It will outlive us and knock our children hard on the head. I am certain that generations to come won't forgive us for choosing based on this petty propaganda at the expense of our nation. Circumstance has changed people more than sermon has. |
Now, how will the authors know that their works will be used for the said purpose? That they won't be put in the dark on the long run and all those common scams? Several people have approached me here to let them use my work for one reason or the other. After that, they ran away doing things with the works. I laid my hand on another anthology where 4 of my poems were published without acknowledging me. I think a more credible source posted here will do. I mean a source that can lead to someone or an organisation to be sued if anything goes wrong. |
Insightful. I actually hold the view that the low self esteem of the Nigerian Police is responsible for their unprecedented aggressiveness. Come to think of it, they traded their own respect and pride for shares of things that would not last: bribe, bootlicking and all. A body, organisation or unit that knows his salt and onion won't take to violence in any instance. The decorum and deftness at their calling won't allow that. You see most of these policemen in dirty uniforms and 'punished shoes' threatening the common men. The Nigerian Police needs rebranding. Standard educational requirements, examination of past records, proper discipline and training are few of the things suggested to ensure they go back to the policing task and stop this city hunting of men. Policing should not be a profession for people who just need to 'get a job' to make a living. It demands more. |
Intellectually stimulating and worthwhile. |
I doubt it. Read the report carefully, you will observe grammatical errors that are too cheap to come from such respected body in the leading country I.e 'while the insurgents sleeping,' 'that this terrorists has acquired.' My take though. |
iamtheprincipal:Nice one brother. I see a great sense in your well thought-out words. However, baba did not make a third class sir. He had an upper. Just for the sake of information. |
Ogbenijhybo:Thank you sir. God bless you. |
ctman:Abuja |
Hello friends. Hidentity University of Ilorin Law 2013 Lagos Thank you friends. |
With the way things are going, dear Lord, please forbid a day men will have to make do with skirts or wrappers. Amen. |
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