₦airaland Forum

tommyex:
This our thread na very nice thread with some Abami eda posts,
Pak,nice defination,i feel that even defines SUCCESS more.

I was here!_{reminds me of secondary school,for those that attended boarding houses}
I wuz ere

@kenosky
[size=18pt]_{the gentility of a lion does not mean that its teeth cannot bite again, it is only lookin for a better meal,} [/size]

AlfaPrime:
@tommyex

Funny enough, this intellectual contest, as you call it, can only do us a world of good.

u really believe that?

You see, radical revolutionaries always started as idealists who began by envisioning a better world around them. They then took up the gauntlet and stepped out for a change.

and where r they now?

@Opokonwa

I say touche to your post. The change in Nigeria starts with us. In fact, with me. Let me recall an experience we had while in school. A lecturer shared with us in class, how a student of his in a senior level to ours once approached him after an exam result was released, complaining that his result was missing. The lecturer was surprised and asked the student how this could have possibly happend, and if he was sure he actually sat for the exam in question. Eventually, under intense interrogation, the boy confessed that he didn't actually write the exam, but had hoped he could con the university don into awarding him a grade. The lecturer then paused and made a profound statement to us in the class: He said something like this: " If as a student, you ask for grades for exam u never wrote, then as a local govt chairman, you will commision roads that you did not build!" The class roared with laughter, while some one impishly chipped in: ", and build bridges where actually, no river exists!

there are pedestrian bridges u know and wat makes u think ur lecturer ddnt do same in his days, abi u dey there?

I don't mean to sound despondent or preachy of course, because there's actually a lot of hope for us. We may not realise it now, but the truth is that things may never have been this hopeful for us in our history as a nation, NOT because things are good right now (in fact, they're actually in their worst state) but because we NOW KNOW OUR TRUE SORRY STATE AS A NATION, and are desirous of change. Ignorance is the worst killer.

oops ! we just got to know abt the sorry state of our nation ? spare mi, peeps av known this since independence!

@Kuwena

Please don't think that because of my juicy job, I don't know suffering. Yes, things are reasonably easier for me now, but I have had my fair share of suffering in life, which I'm not in a hurry to forget. From having to trek miles to primary school on an empty stomach, to surviving for days in University on just garri and water, to being abandoned when it mattered most, by trusted and well-to-do relatives who my father had done much for,, name it. And today, when I sit in an airconditioned vehicle going to and from the office, I look out at the sweating, trudging masses struggling for their daily bread, and tell myself silently
"From poverty in Nigeria, none is free,
Until all is free"

Doubt me? Ask an armed robbery or fraud victim.

Many of us on Nairaland have seen the worst side of life in Nigeria, but have not allowed it to turn us against the country. Because the country is simply You and I.

But You know the key to forging ahead? Kuwena, I'll share this key with You in my next post, for our collective benefit. it will help You as You progress to your next level in life. You've got all the trappings of a successful high-flier, but this key is so vital, You need to have it as you progress.

Cheerio!Happy weekend.

the man with the master KEY! i bet u its an allen key- cos d problems get nuts and bolts too o!

tommyex:

Ehen i like this una intellectual contest,nice 2 read

i sabi say u dey like fight na! u no c ur head!!

Ken
e be like say u don dey shark ogogoro 4 that your end,na d cold?Cos this censor wey u do dey dey move me

our own no go b intellectual brouhaha , na solid mortal combat u wan start so (lol)

Ken
notin do TRINI mail oo,infact i gained frm it,

im for send am to ur mail na!

Trini
welldone bro.

AlfaPrime:
I thank you all. When I was a Christian, one of the psalms I loved was Psalm 131. In the first part of that psalm, the songist said: 'Yahweh, I am not proud!' I second him. Indeed, I am not proud.

I have got admission to do a master's in the course I love best, in a standard American school (name of school deliberately withheld), and am being offered a GTA; but what if I package the admission letter, and the I-20, and my transcript, and all what not, and go to the Embassy and they see all these documents, and still deny me a visa? What then? I would still be back to square one. So I know it is not yet uhuru. NLNG has taught me certain things: Do not count your chicks before they are hatched. And I will not do so. I will patiently begin to plan my embassy interview, with my fingers crossed.

The reason I went all emotional and started saying I would give my life for the USA and all what not is simple. I had just received the letter, and I was ecstatic; but now that I have allowed sufficient time to pass, I can reflect. What touched me about Professor Pat's letter was the language she used. For someone that has just been rejected by NLNG, words like: your credentials are very impressive; you will add greatly to our graduate community here; I look forward to seeing you; you are admitted on full graduate standing; welcome to the Graduate school, and all what not, simply made me feel wanted. I had felt rejected in my own country, and the USA seemed to be welcoming me with open arms; an orphan boy like me. How could I not feel love for them?

Anyway, I know it is not yet Uhuru. I know this too well. Let's see how the big one goes, the embassy battle. That is the big one. The real maccoy!





@Kuwena,

You said, "when You were a Christian", may I ask what You are now?

Am also happy for u that u've calmed down and allowed commonsense to prevail after your initial near-hysteric excitement over the admission. It never ceases to make me wonder silently whenever I see people so excited about leaving our country Nigeria for greener pastures abroad. Guys, my prayer for us all is that we come to the point where travelling to the US or anywhere else will be normal and usual, like a pasttime, not a thing to break our heads over. When I got my letter informing me that I had passed the NLNG test, I injured myself with excitement and nearly lost my life, but it taught me sober lessons. When God in his infinite mercy later blessed me with a much more expensive multi-million naira job, I was much calmer, because I had realised by then that His plans for me are much greater than even my greatest hopes and dreams. He's indeed a loving God and a great Father!

ANother thing I must say here, Kuwena, (and to all landers) is that we must have a positive attitude to Nigeria. mark my words, and go confirm them on the net, there is NO CRIME, MISFORTUNE, CORRUPTION OR DISCOMFORT that You see in this country, that does not much more abound in the USA. from violent robbery/crime, rape, car-snatching, , name it! I have seen riots and mob action happening on the streets on US (in this 21st century!) over a hit and run driver, it's just that, the truth remains, the system there works far better than our system here, because nearly everyone behaves themselves and respects the rule of law. So please, we still have a future and a hope here. I work with Americans in my company, and many of them have a deep respect for this country, despite the fact that it's obvious our leaders have shortchanged us. One of them once told me quite frankly, that he thinks the NYSC scheme is one thing that makes Nigeria so great and unique. Imagine!

Finally, remain blessed all. Prepare very well for your Visa interview, Kuwena. You may wish to visit the USIS at Broad Street, Lagos, to acquaint yourself on what is required for a successful interview. I want to believe that it's a credible school that's offering the admission, because, funny enof, there are some American schools whose admission and even scholarship CANNOT get u a scholarship.

Up Landers!!!

WORD! ALFA PRIME KUDOS

kuwena:
Today is a very emotional day for me. Every 28th of February is. On this very day four years ago, I took the most radical decision of my whole life. How did it begin? And so it happens that since after February 28, 2004 I have had to mark that day as a recurring anniversary. I usually go to a fast food joint, or cook myself a meal to mark it. Today I went with a friend to Mr. Bigg's.

On February 28, 2004 I sat on my mattress on the floor of my room in my uncle's house at Owerri. I relived my past, my present and my future, and all I saw was darkness. So I got up, in the insanity of anger and picked my small travel bag; then I walked up to my so-called uncle in the sitting room. I told him: 'I am leaving; I am leaving your house for good.' He looked at me awhile, and then threw his head back and laughed loud and good. Then he said, 'Your father thought he was a disciplined man, that he was discipline itself. Where is he today? Is he not six feet in the grave? And you are going the same way!' I retorted: 'Back to sender.' And with that, I was on my way, out into the world.

Life seemed to be giving me a choice between two alternatives: have a family and be unsuccessful all through life, or forsake your family and thrive. I chose the latter. That fateful day, when I walked out on family, I chose to be successful, even if it meant sacrificing them. And I have not looked back.

When I left, I had nowhere to go to, but somehow, I had to keep running, and that race has now lasted four years. Still I am not tired. In Igbo culture we say, oso ndu anaghi agwu ike (the race of life is not tiring). And I will continue to run, as far as my legs will take me. Away from mediocrity, away from poverty; away from death.

How did I realize I had to run? From the day I set foot to live in that house in 1996, till the day I ran in 2004, life never seemed to go straight; but from the day I ran until now, life has advanced; in these four years, I have graduated, served and begun working. As if everything is starting afresh again, after all the pervasive darkness, of dropping out of both FUTO and the seminary, and all the other frustrations besides. And life is all an adventure now; an intriguing movie. Exciting, terrifying, almost unreal; yet I go on living.

The climax of the suffering under the oppression of my extended family was an event that took place on 15th November, 2003; the Rat episode; it is written in Ninety Negro Numbers, and an excerpt copied directly from the manuscript is afforded below:



It was ten at night when the fiend came home that day. As usual, I was still studying on the verandah. He called me to lock the gates. We all went to bed. Suddenly, I awoke. There was a rat on my chest! I was horrified. At once, it jumped off and tried to get out through the window; it was locked. Then the mouse tried the side door; it was stuffed underneath with paper. Then it stayed still, unable to escape. I stared at it, and then opened the main door and spoke, ‘Leave.’

As if the rat perfectly understood English, it walked straight out the door, neither swerving left nor right. I felt enough was enough. This juju manipulation had to stop. I began to pray. I prayed long and hard, from twelve midnight to broad daylight morning. At the final amen, I opened the curtains and the sun greeted me. I stepped out of my room and grabbed a bucket to go wash my so-called uncle’s car. Usually, every morning, I would wash his car, sweep the verandah and finally rake the compound. This morning, however, after washing the car, I was going to drop the bucket when the fiend, Ambrose Chukwuma Nze, confronted me. He asked what I had been doing all through the night. I told him about the rat, and that I had been praying, and he at once declared I wanted to kill him! I asked him if he was the rat. He said for me to keep shut, that I was wicked, and that he was going to tell everybody that I wanted to kill him, an ungrateful fellow I was.
‘So you want to kill me,’ he sniffed.
I said nothing.
‘You told me that I would die, my children would cry; you would be laughing and burying me.’
‘Really? When?’
‘Shut up! Ungrateful boy, you also said that the Nze family would fall, and only you would stand.’
‘Me?’
‘Keep quiet, O keep quiet you wicked boy! So you want to kill me, because I killed your father?’ And he turned his face away.

Was this a revelation or something? Had this beast actually killed Patrick Azunna Nze, his immediate elder brother? He continued to mutter, and I to stare at him. Jesus, what was happening?

Reader, pray never to experience what I did after that day. He began carrying his double-barreled gun about whenever I was in the house. He refused me to wash his car, to sweep the verandah or to rake the grounds. Once when I tried to take the rake from him, he shuddered and shifted. ‘Leave me-o! Leave me!’

And the nightmares? The poisonings – O my God! I probably died seven times over, but then a cat has nine lives, and my yahoo avatar is the bespectacled feline. I bear a charmed life. Odieshi! If you buy my soon-to-be-published autobiographical novel, you will get the details. It is a long, long, very long and intriguing story, my whole life.


This, you must know, is my favorite number. I am not a musician myself, but I have long converted it to a song, to be played on the drums, with the samba dance. The rhythm is so obvious that any fool can make a song of the piece, and a lively one at that.

After making the poem a spirited song, the next is to get drummers and shekere players, who should play with gusto. Then, the making of the mimers: Get a middle aged, black man to play Ambrose, and also a set of dancers, maybe twelve or so, all dressed in traditional African dance attire. The drummers and the shekere players (and if you can mange wind instruments too, get flutists) are all positioned at a corner of the stage, playing and producing veritable beat. Then enter the lad who hops onto the stage and begins to dance. O dear, how do I describe the particular dance I have in mind? He pushes out his chest at the words ‘with rat on my chest’ and sucks it in again; then he kicks his feet, and mimes a prayer session in dance (do you get the picture?), and then he moves three or four paces back, grabs a bucket, tosses it up and flings it aside; then his dance steps become more regular, mostly shoulder and hip movements consonating with the music of the instruments. At the point after the first two stanzas, when he begins to question the fiend who, all this while has stood still, head bowed and arms folded across his chest,

Am I to kill you to make meat for soup
Am I to kill you to use as kpomo?

he turns to face the middle aged man, who jerks in turn to face the lad. At once, the other dancers fall in behind the boy, dancing synchronously, hands pushed out at the fiend in accusatory stance, bodies moving expertly to the beat. They advance one or two paces, and the fiend shifts back in fear. After the word, kpomo, the dancers step off the stage expertly and neatly, and the fiend points at the lad who is now facing him still dancing defiantly, even if now alone:

He pointed at me and grit his brown teeth
He began to say all what I had not.

The man’s mouth does move, but of course it is the lad who is singing. After the next set of lines,

That he would soon die, his children would cry
The Nze’s would fall and I alone stand,

has been mimed and sung, the dancers come again and fall in behind the lad, stretching their hands towards the fiend, singing and dancing to the beat:

Am I a dreamer, saying this and that
Am I a dreamer that you hear me foul?

And after the word, ‘foul,’ they hop off stage again. This becomes the repeated procedure: the lad and the man mime the activity in each set of two stanzas, the lad singing and dancing, the man on the defensive; and at every refrain, the dancing group hops onto the stage to join the lad in challenging his enemy with rhetorical questions. The drums and other musical instruments play on; dancing endures with singing till the end. Curtains.


You Want to Kill Me

With rat on my chest
I had to pray hard
I pleaded with God
From midnight till dawn

I grabbed a bucket
To rub down his car
But this man intoned
You want to kill me

Am I to kill you
To make meat for soup
Am I to kill you
To use as kpomo?

He pointed at me
And grit his brown teeth
He began to say
All what I had not

That he would soon die
His children would cry
The Nzes would fall
And I alone stand

Am I a dreamer
Saying this and that
Am I a dreamer
That you hear me foul?

He said to keep shut
That I was wicked
He'd tell the whole world
I needed him dead

He fetched his dane gun
To keep at his side
That when I was near
He'd ward off the threat

Am I an uze
To keep me a gun
Am I an uze
The type you shoot at?

He quarreled with me
And sent me demons
Concoctions and spells
Witches and devils

He called a dibah
To poison my food
He fashioned a charm
To secure my death

Do you want my corpse
For sniffing the ooze
Do you want my corpse
For drinking the blood?

I had to escape
I couldn't stay on
He was determined
To ensure my doom

I packed up my bag
And made for the road
I would change my name
To Munachukwu

Is kinship by force
When you want me dead
Is kinship by force
With God on my side?

I was a free man
Now so for three years
I left them for good
Never to return

I did suffer much
I wept and I pained
I did everything
To eke out a life

Am I not to live
In my own country
Am I not to live
In my fatherland?

But I didn't lose
See how much I've grown
My chest fends the wind
O stay back, I say!

Assurance increased
I face the wild west
Ready for all things
Because I'm a man

Am I not Negroid
The eye of the sun
Am I not Negroid
The hope of the world?

(Cf Ninety Negro Numbers, pages 67-72)

I wish myself a happy fourth year anniversary of liberation. Amen.

adrianic:
guys,
its been a really long time.congrats on our entry into the centennial page.

d understatement of the century!

kenosky,no vex for your guy.i dey hussle now like mad.time no too dey again.

eh ya, good to know u r doin great sha!

pak:
Kenosky Sorry O!,
e be like say the tremor affected you a wee bit
why are you thanking God for Friday on a Thursday?
Softly O my brother

WORD! u with opoks na guru- i wanted to c how many couldnt wait for saturday! , kai menini, una smart no b small o!

@all
How una dey

opokonwa:
Oga Kenosky, you blame me?
I never experienced any tremor in my life, so I wouldn't know
Thank God you're still alive 'cause no be ghost dey post
But don't turn it into an earthquake yet, the news say na tremor

where u for get ur own gist so opoks baba? 5.3 na tremor? afterall d same news na im report say people die when na only one major injury dem report. Guy, stop reading the Sun newspapers o

No bickerings; just a healthy argument that has a potential of raising some nerves.

kuwena:
Also, I would like you all to rejoice with me.

I got an official message today from the Head of Graduate School, Communciation, formally admitting me to their Graduate program, over there in the USA. They also want to offer me a Graduate Teaching Assistanship, as in the Head's own words, my credentials are 'impressive'. What can I say? Could she be referring to my transcript? Imagine these people actually 'begging' me for a teaching job?

God bless America! America, I love you; I worship you; I adore you! I'd lay down my life for you.