₦airaland Forum

DM me if you see this.

Watch this space!

You can work in a TV production house e.g audio visual first, you can work with an animation studio, film makers, advertising firms, music video producers, Africa marine, all TV stations etc.

You skill is in very high demand but how much you can command depends on your level of expertise.
Cheers

Earlier this week Development Dairies unveiled the Social Media Awards Africa (SMAA), a first of its kind continental initiative to recognize and celebrate excellence, creativity and impact of social media on human socio-economic development – through its tools and platforms, by individuals and organizations across the continent. The SMAA features 4 categories and 15 awards targeted at personalities, platforms, institutions and indigenous initiatives that have demonstrated the aforementioned criteria in digital and social media practice within Africa.

For those that couldn't attend, find pictures on Naomi Lucas's blog.

P.s - Nominations are now open, please feel free to nominate (Till October 27 2014) yourself, your brand or those you feel are deserving of the award categories. To find out more about the project, visit www.smaaafrica.com


- See more pictures at: http://naomilucas..com/2014/10/social-media-awards-africa-in-pictures.html

I met a friend at an event I attended recently. We sat together and chatted while we waited for the event to start. And then she asked me, suddenly, "Do you think the girls are coming back?" She asked in relation to the girls recently kidnapped by Boko Haram in Nigeria. It was a simple question but it dampened my mood that evening. All I could mutter was "I don't know men, I don't know."

Until she asked I had tried not to consciously think of the girls; that was my own way of dealing with the horror. But as the week wore on I found the question flittering in and out of my thoughts. The media has done its bit in creating the buzz needed to get the government to do something. It seemed to be working at the time but as with most social media driven campaigns (Remember #Childnotbride?) the hashtag grew tired and even more sad, most people moved on.

During a conversation with another friend who happens to be from Maiduguri and still has family there, I asked the same question, "Do you think the girls are coming back?" Let me paraphrase what he said to me:

The girls have been coming back Naomi. They have. In the last couple of weeks, quite a number of them have been found, in twos, threes, in the bush at different times by farmers, people looking for firewood and so on. But because everyone is afraid, no one wants to be the one to say, "look, I found a Chibok girl" they get the girls to places where they can hitch a ride or find their way home, give them some money and leave them to their fate. But in recent weeks the numbers have reduced drastically. Sadly, some of the girls have gotten pregnant. So as a collective, they are not coming back but as individuals, most likely, maybe.

Bittersweet right? Grateful but still anxious, that's how I feel. But hey, while we hope for better days ahead and some more good news, I thought this might brighten someone's day, to know that some of the girls have and still are finding their way home.

©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2014/09/bringbackourgirls-some-good-news-maybe.html

A few weeks ago, I overheard a weird conversation. I'm still not sure what it all means. This guy (Let's call him Godwin) received a phone call not too far from where I was at the time. He happened to be one of those people who cannot talk quietly on the phone. He spoke English and Igbo, mixing both languages fluently as he talked. I understand both languages so it was easy to follow.

The call he got was from a middle eastern, oil producing country. The caller (Let's call him Iyke), was serious about a move by some easterners to break out from/of Nigeria and form a new nation like was attempted in the late sixties. He wanted Godwin to help with strategy and work with some people within the country who were already 'putting things in place.' His offer? eight million dollars. I kid you not.

Iyke meant business. He spent the next couple of minutes explaining how much work had been done, how badly they needed Godwin on board and why it was important for Godwin to identify with their cause. I froze where I was, wondering how Godwin was going to refuse the offer. Godwin's response was the real shocker.

The offer upset him and he minced no words in letting Iyke know. He told Iyke about their parents and the horror they went through during the civil war; horrors they were yet to recover from. In his opinion, a secession will not work because the problems of the Igbos were internal and the wranglings within their ranks will be their downfall. He chided Iyke for living in a white man's country, devoid of the issues an average Nigerian grapples with and daring to dictate solutions to Nigeria's problems. He asked Iyke if he knew about the unemployment situation in the country, if he knew how hard it was to survive and asked how he intended to convince people who couldn't find food to eat, to go to war. He asked Iyke if he, surrounded by all the luxury his paycheck provided him, could stand a few days of constant gunfire.

He told Iyke to give him the money. That if he didn't know what to do with it, He (Godwin) could put it to good use. He listed all the possible youth empowerment and poverty alleviation projects he will undertake and told Iyke to come back in six months to see just how far eight million dollars could go. While Iyke pleaded on the phone, Godwin warned him to leave Nigeria and its many problems alone if he couldn't think of constructive ways to help.

Then as suddenly as the conversation started, it ended.

Patriotism is a lot of things, but most importantly, it is the unflinching solidarity and acceptance of a country by its citizens, warts and all. Patriots are not ostentatious people, they are not talkers, they do, more often than not, quietly. They are optimistic and see the silver lining where others see the clouds. The way a mother will find it easy to love a deformed child is the same way a patriot loves his country. He will kill for it and be killed for it. A patriot never stops hoping, he never stops believing. Even in a sinking ship, surrounded by water, the patriot looks to the horizon with a firm believe that before it is all over, somehow, help will come.

Godwin is a patriot.

http://naomilucas..com/2014/08/who-is-patriot.html

As reported in the media last week, Pastor Lawrence Okechukwu Amuruche, a 61-year-old father of two, cried out for help after the anointing oil, water and prayer points purportedly given him by the General Overseer of his church, Mountain of Fire and Miracles Ministries (MFM), Dr. Daniel Kolawole Olukoya failed to stop the cataract growing in his eyes.

There have been accusations and counter accusations flying back and forth since the Pastor took his story to the press. That is quite frankly not my business and not the focal point of #SundayTalk today. Let's talk about the anointing oil bit:

What is the origin of the anointing oil?
What is it meant for?
How and for what was it used in the past?
Are there scriptural guidelines to its use and/or application?
Can the anointing oil be a replacement for sound medical care? Why? Why not?
What does the bible say about it?
I look forward to your comments.

©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2014/08/sundaytalk-doctors-vs-anointing-oil-are.html

phatjoe50: Nice post.

Thanks.

blizard44: Thanks op...

I recently tried shaking a colleague and to my dismay he shoved his hands deep into his pockets like we've turned foes.
I asked what's wrong and he cited ebola as the cause on which his action is hinged....I was like, ' you no go die before?'

even those that have nothing to lose except their ten naira cigar are still fearing around...

Lol. Imagine!

smartchoice: Still I won't visit Moronvia

Neither would I at this material point in time

shikshark: thanks o.p........*removes gloves and gas mask*

lol

On a normal day, I worry about how often I wash my hands. I wash them a lot. So imagine my paranoia when I heard about the Ebola virus. It was disturbing enough when people in other West African countries were dealing with the disease. When I heard about the Liberian that died in Lagos, I began to lose sleep. My very active imagination played out all the possible scenarios and ways one could get ebola. It was not pretty.


I attended an event last week where I met an acquaintance I hadn't seen in a while. In my excitement I rushed for a hug and she hesitated, apologetically blaming ebola. I shrugged and jokingly added, that while we are here worrying about death by Ebola, rapture will take place. We both laughed and went our separate ways.

The disease has gotten a lot of attention, rightly so considering the sheer number of people it has killed in its wake, but really should we be that afraid? That paranoid? I wasn't sure so I decided to do some research. You know how it is, the bible says, 'My people perish for lack of knowledge.'

What I found was reassuring to say the least. While the media has done a great job in keeping everyone abreast of the latest Ebola updates, it has done an unbelievably dismal job of reducing the fear and panic that has gripped the average west african. The following represent the facts about Ebola and its transmission (Beyond what might already be out there):

- The virus is often spread through families and friends because they come in close contact with such secretions when caring for infected persons. - Center For Disease Control And Prevention (CDC)

-Human to human transmission is only achieved by physical contact with the body fluids of a person who is acutely ill or who has died from Ebola. Transmission among humans is mainly among caregiver family members or health care workers tending to the very ill, or in preparation of the body of a deceased case for burial. - US Embassy (Liberia), July 28th, 2014

- A person can have the virus without symptoms for 2-21 days, the average being 5 to 8 days before becoming ill. The person is not contagious until they are acutely ill. (Technically, if the person beside you does not look sick, he/she cannot infect you. Emphasis mine.) US Embassy (Liberia), July 28th, 2014

- While all Ebola virus species have displayed the ability to be spread through airborne particles under research conditions, this type of spread has not been documented among humans in a real-world setting, such as a hospital or household. (In other words, the disease is not airborne. Emphasis mine.) - CDC

Casual contact in public places with people that do not appear to be sick do not transmit Ebola. One cannot contract Ebola virus by handling money, groceries or swimming in a pool. Mosquitoes do not transmit the Ebola virus. - National Center For Disease Control, India

Based on the facts above I'd say breathe easy, sleep better. No need to chew your your nails in anxiety. Ebola is most likely not coming for you except if you deliberately expose yourself to unsafe conditions. Take simple precautions; keep a hand sanitizer in your bag or pocket and use sparingly. Eat like you normally would but be sure to cook animal products properly. While you are at it, spread hope, not fear.

And have yourself a very swell weekend.

©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2014/08/ebola-5-facts-media-forgot-to-tell-you.html

When you get the call you remember your Pastor's prophecy from last week Sunday. The one that said you should expect a call from someone high and mighty. The meeting will either be at Radisson Blu, Moorehouse, Southern Sun, Eko Hotel, Oriental or Four Points. He will come in a Range Rover, Prado, X5 or some other 'Jeep.'

You get there 1 hour early. He joins you and asks if you have placed your order. Effortlessly, like he owns the place. You shake your head. You are completely taken by his appearance. He looks like he walked off an Armani runway, his complexion a fine shade between mulatto and ajebo. You wish you can take his picture and show it to your boyfriend, hustling his life away somewhere on the mainland, decked in those Luise Vitron shirts he swears are the real deal.

The waiter takes your very modest order. Big boy orders for coffee - black, no sugar, no cream even though it is 2pm. Wow.

Breakfast underway, he talks to you about his vision for the project or business and the role he sees you playing. This project is not local. It is either sub-saharan or global in scope. The idea is so revolutionary, he believes it will disrupt existing technologies or change the face of business in Africa if not the world. The budget will range conservatively between 1- 5 million dollars. Your mind wanders as you think of the dress you will wear on that special Sunday when you testify to the goodness of God.

You listen more than you speak because big boy is doing most of the talking. In all his talking, he says nothing about your fees. You do not ask. With the wristwatch on his arm looking like it can fund a gubernatorial campaign, you have no worries about his ability to pay. You send in your proposal like he asks you to and this is where the drama starts. He asks you to update this and that, revise this and that, take that part out or tweak this part. You are hopeful still.

Just so there is no doubt about it, let me say it to you, you have just met a Lagos big boy. He is big, young (and therefore a boy) and lives in Lagos. He is articulate, seems to have a taste for the fine things of life. Sadly, that is where it all stops. Let me tell you why. Lagos big boy is a peddler of perception and all he has goes into servicing that perception. He is groaning under the weight of it but will die trying to prove otherwise. He lives in houses he cannot afford, marries women he can not take care of with children in schools above both their pay grades; drives cars he has not finished paying for and wears clothes he struggles to dry clean.

All he has surrounded himself with covers the deep sense of inadequacy that gnaws at him every now and then. It is the reason why you will find him more often in hotels than you will at home. Home forces him to confront himself and the emptiness that his life is or has become. It reminds him of all the bills and responsibilities that come with the perception he has built. Surrounded by equally ostentatious people living way above their means, he feels intense pressure to live up to perceived expectations.

Dear one, do not get caught up in the antics of Lagos big boy. Forget the experience you just had and move on. Fast. As painful as it is I must tell you, he is not your testimony.

©Naomi Lucas

http://naomilucas..com/2014/07/how-to-spot-lagos-big-boy.html

There's an even better trailer. It's Kunle Afolayan's next movie called October 1.
Watch here: http://www.october1movie.com/trailer/

lomaxx: What happened to her knowledge of birth control? What was she thinking?

It has happened. If you don't have anything to say leave the poor lady alone.

If you're battling low self-esteem I'm currently treating the issue on my blog. Do yourself a favour and check it out. Here's an anonymous comment I thought to share with you:

I can effortlessly connect with Naomi’s write up. I was a remarkable failure. I wrote JAMB Exams about 8 times between 1993 and 2000 when I finally I got admission into a University. My inability to pass JAMB exams was used to insult me anytime I did anything wrong to my parents (my father, especially) and siblings. I was depressed and really angry; angry with myself, angry with God, angry with my parents, angry with everyone I ever came in contact with; because to a large extent nobody ever gave me a chance. What made it worse for me was that I had a lot on my mind and I didn’t have anyone I could talk to. I was the black sheep of the family, the outcast. So, I never felt welcome anywhere. I look at people with suspicion.

In between writing JAMB Exams and failing I wanted to prove to my parents and everyone around me that I can make something out of my life without their support, so I went out to get a job. I had worked as a Nursery school teacher, I worked in a Pharmacy, and I worked in a Restaurant. Just to make a point. And the whole idea about making a point was borne out of anger and resentment for my parents and siblings. I just wanted to “show them”. So, I’ll buy myself some nice shirts and sneakers and nice cologne. In retrospect, I was also working to hide my failure. Before, you draw any conclusion; I was a maniac when it comes to reading. I always read for my JAMB Exams like mad. But, each time I always fail.

So, I battled with depression and low self-esteem for a very long time. I never felt I was good enough for anything in life. I considered suicide a couple of times. But, when bouts of depression overwhelm me, somewhere on the inside of me, I feel a certain hope that I should try again, that tomorrow will be better, that God has something in stock for me. So, I kept at it.

I got into University when a sizable number of my mates were in Grad school. I was ashamed and angry. I just used to run away from them, I hide when I see them, because I didn’t feel good enough.

Because I love to read, I read the Bible quite a lot, just out curiosity and to engage in silly debates. In the course of my reading I realized I’m created in the image of Christ, so I said to myself that-“if indeed I’m created in the image of God, God wasn’t a failure”. Yes, I failed but, I’m not a failure and I’m not going to attempt to wrap it around some Socratic Philosophy. And I started praying and studying the Bible more diligently, though occasional thoughts of failure would taunt me. Somehow, I kept at it. Each time such thoughts come I’ll pray and use God’s word to console myself, so I found great solace in praying and reading the Bible.

Today, I look back at my life and I’m grateful to God. I’m grateful to my parents and I love them to death- my mum has gone to be with the Lord, my father and I talk a lot now, even though back then, he never gave me a chance. My siblings and I a bit close; I still struggle a bit in accepting them because of the way they made fun of me and ostracized me. In those years of failure, I learnt tenacity, hard work, determination, courage, faith, hope and commitment. Today, my colleagues marvel at my sense of commitment and hard work to job that pays “very little”. I keep at it because I know there’s a tomorrow and it’ll be better. I keep telling myself and my lovely wife-“things will not always be like this for us”.

I’m grateful to Naomi for starting this discourse and I’m hoping that
someone somewhere will look at failure and mistakes of the past and shut the door at it and move on; because tomorrow looks better!
Thank you Naomi and God bless you richly.

http://naomilucas..com/2013/12/series-what-do-you-do-when-you-never.html

In writing this series I have assumed that the topic under scrutiny is new to whoever will read it and based on that assumption, I have chosen to define all key words I deem important to this discussion.
****

Understanding The Concept
Look into a mirror and tell me what you see... Er, don't. Whatever you see staring back at you is what is referred to as 'Self'. Self means YOU as a complete, distinct person from everyone else.

To 'Esteem' means to have respect for, to attach value to something. Together both words form the phrase 'Self-esteem', a term used in psychology to reflect a person’s overall emotional evaluation of his or her own worth.

Though self-esteem and self-respect are used interchangeably, it is a neutral term. It takes on a positive or negative meaning depending on whether your estimation of yourself is high or low. If you take pride in yourself, then you have high self-esteem. If you feel unworthy, incompetent, inadequate, below standard or perceive everyone and everything as better or more deserving than you, then my dear; you have low self-esteem (LSE).

The severity of LSE varies from person to person but generally, it is characterized by a complete lack of confidence in yourself and your abilities and sometimes, a projection of that sense of inadequacy on those around you..

LSE is not a surface problem. Its roots are deep and usually date back to early childhood and adolescent years. As painful as it may be, the solution lies in confronting the underlying and sometimes unresolved issues that have become the soil on which the problem thrives.

Now, I need you to take some time out and study the list below and I need you to be honest with yourself:
Have you lost both parents? (Or living with one biological and one step-parent)
Are you from a broken home? (Did your parents separate or divorce when you were much younger?)
Are you from a polygamous family? (Did your father marry one or more wives? Or had one wife and a string of mistresses?)
Did you grow up in an abusive environment (Your father beats up or talks down at your mum, or the other way round? Did you experience constant shouting or arguments?)
Did your parents favour one or more of your siblings above you or use him/her/them as a standard for good behaviour?
Did you grow up experiencing lack? (Was there less than enough money for food, clothing, shelter, school fees, books etc.?)
Did you suffer some form of abuse (Rape, incest, sodomy, constant beating and or criticism, verbal/psychological abuse etc.)
Are you disabled or do you see yourself as handicapped in some way? (Blind, deaf, dumb, crippled or scarred physically or emotionally)
Are you squatting or living with friends/relatives?
Did you drop out of school (At whatever level, for whatever reason)
Have you tried to do achieve something and failed over and over again (E.g JAMB, business, relationships)
Were you borne out of wedlock? (It's possible you don't even know who your mum or dad is)

The list is not exhaustive, it can't be; but it outlines the likely roots of LSE for those who grapple with it. The environments and scenarios described above by their very makeup are dysfunctional (though there are exceptions) and for impressionable children, adolescents and teenagers, the effects can be life-altering...

To be continued
©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2013/12/series-what-do-you-do-when-you-never_12.html

I just had to post this here, for those who aren't my friends on other social media platforms. Trust me, this is a good way to start your Monday.

Some less than satisfied customers, wrote a review about Veet Hair Removal Gel Cream For Men. See below:



Oh the shame....
By A. Chappell

After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succesful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.

I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn't have long to wait.

At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg. Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned .

Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the drawer for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so.I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.

This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.

Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good ". Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involutary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect...

LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION
By The Cantankerous Tiger

I like the clean shaven look down in my gentleman's log cabin, so for the past few years I've used a shaver. However the hair keeps growing back which means every 6 months I have to spend 20 minutes trimming again. As I'm sure you've realise this is valuable time I cannot waste. So I decided to get to the root of the problem and purchased this product.

Probably the first thing you will notice after using this product is the pain. Although as a man I lack the required experience, I'm going to estimate that using this product is at least eleven times more painful than childbirth.

Imagine sticking a rusty razor blade into your favourite eye, before tying your hands behind your back. Then imagine that you use the entrenched razor blade to slice open a raw onion. All the while being butt naked. This product is slightly more painful than that.

However if we ignore the blinding, crippling and debilitating pain I should point out that this product is remarkably effective. Before, all manner of organisms great and small lived down there, now nothing can grow; not even on a cellular level. Sadly this includes my Instruments; I've spent the last four hours staring fixedly at Carol Vorderman's arse, all to no avail. My tinkywinkleton hasn't even so much as perked up, so if my review seems a bit harsh, it's only because I wanted children.

All in all an effective and reasonably priced product - 3 Stars.

Good results at first interrogation
By Mr. H. A. Outhwaite

Excellent product. Most prisoners confessed within five minutes of the first application. Can recommend.

Yours,
Ali Muhabarakah,
Secret Police, Damascus

http://naomilucas..com/2013/12/must-read-funniest-reviews-ive-ever-read.html

After waiting for so long, he came. Like a knight in shining amour, he came. As sly as all the others, he was. Everyone saw through him except you. You were in love, the fall-wound-mouth type to be exact. Everyone who didn’t like him didn’t wish you well. So little by negligible little, your network withered until it was just you, him and those who didn’t know any better or didn’t care.

You speed-dated like you had some deadline lurking close by. Within a quarter he had proposed. Your wedding shortly after was an intimate, classy, aso-ebi free, strictly by I.V affair. Sadly; the guests were mainly his friends and family and a handful of yours.

Industrious you are and have always been. You travelled all over the country making a living and loving it. It was a trait he found attractive; a strong, ambitious, independent and self-confident woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to try and get it.

The first few months after your wedding were heavenly. Such a shame your friends weren’t there to see. You made him a Director in your company, got him to travel with you, introduced him to your clients, made him a signatory to the company account and taught him the nitty-gritty of doing business in your sector. Despite all these, he didn’t trust you. His ridiculous accusations of infidelity, his unexplainable tantrums and his incessant complaints about your male clients seemed cute at first until you realized he wasn’t joking. He had a pretty clear picture of what a married woman was and wasn’t supposed to be and you realized you didn’t fit that description. Determined to make your marriage work and considering you had gotten pregnant, you slowed down and handed over the reins of your business to him. By the time you put to bed, he was running your company full time and doing quite a brilliant job. Maternity period over, you wanted to get back to work, and that was when shit hit the fan.

He didn’t want a maid. He wanted you to do the cooking and he wanted his meals fresh; no microwaves and no food flasks. He shopped and brought the groceries home instead of giving you the money. He said the company was doing great, you should not worry too much; just take care of the home front. You didn’t find it funny and you told him exactly that. By the next morning you could barely see through your left eye and the rest of your body felt like it belonged to someone else.

You were in trouble and you knew it. Being the fighter that you are, you got a nanny, handed the baby over and showed up at the office; your company. You almost passed out at the sight. Most of your staff had been fired and surprise, surprise, your husband had become sole signatory to the company account. How all that happened right under your nose you can’t explain till this day.

The house became a war zone. You were the greatest casualty. He beat you black, blue and all the colours in between. Ashamed, disappointed, betrayed and hurt, there was no succor anywhere; no friends, no family, per se. He had you where he wanted you and there was no getting out. Or so it seemed…

After two years of perpetual torture and a face that had lost most of its zest, you ran for your dear life with your two children, the youngest still suckling. He had the company and your bank account; you have the children and nowhere to stay. Within months he found love again. Moved on. You are trying to stand but the kids are like shackles around your feet.

No one who means well keeps you away from those who matter to you. No one who means well ever makes you choose between them and your loved ones. No one who means well smothers your light. No one who means you well toys with your self-esteem. I see that some women can’t understand love unless it is painful, devastating or abusing but love isn’t meant to hurt. You have learned that the hardest way possible and all you have learned is at risk of being eroded… by the depth of your bitterness.

My goodness, you are bitter. Even a blind man can tell. You conversations drip with bile. The things you say are either scathing, cynical or sarcastic. You have lost the ability to engage in civil, harmless conversation. You attack in the vilest way, anyone or anything you perceive a threat. You’re in permanent defense mode and gradually; you have become really difficult to be around. For your sake you need to get justice or find peace or both. As difficult as it may sound, you need to let go.

You have shut everyone out – the ones who care and the ones who want to. I can understand how stupid and ashamed you must feel for not listening to sound counsel but sis, this is not a burden you can carry by yourself. Breathe, exhale, and let your hair down just a bit. You have your whole life ahead of you and you, even you with your two children can have a fresh start.

You know this too shall pass? It will… Eventually. You will get justice - karma will ensure it. Eventually, the hurt will heal and the pain you feel now will be but a distant memory. Eventually, you will find your feet and your latter years will be better than the former. Eventually, will find love again. Eventually, you and those beautiful kids of yours will be just fine.

P.s - Based on a true story...

©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2013/11/to-you-single-mother.html

I don't know how often you watch music channels around here but I do, mostly when I'm surfing. The situation has become more desperate than it ever was. Music Directors have become bolder, more brazen; sooner or later, we just might begin to see naked bodies on our screens.

If anyone else is not worried, I am. The thread that holds our moral fabric together is on its last leg. And this is where I think you 'guys' come in. You are a different breed, singing a different tune in a society where we are constantly bombarded with intelligence-erasing music. Frankly, you are swimming against the tide and must do twice the work to steer us back on track; to redefine what is right, popular, normal, acceptable.

So I'm sitting here wondering, what exactly is going through your mind when you sing like that? ...When you shoot those videos that just make me cover my eyes with my entire arm? If you want to position yourself as a worthy alternative to the decay that is currently mainstream music, then you're going to have to do way better. Music is a universal language. Cinematography and good directing are interpreted the same way the world over. Stop churning out all those sub-standard material that only sell within the family, friends and churches. If your music is so poor it can't sit on the same shelf with Lady Gaga's, you're doing God a disservice.

Put your best foot forward. If you voice quakes when you sing don't mistake it for anointing, it simply means you need voice training; get a coach. If you can't write songs don't touch it; find a song writer. Trust me, they exist; I've seen a couple. It's okay if Clarence Peters directs your videos, you don't have to look for a born-again crew to direct your born-again music video to be sold to friends, family and churches. The people who need to hear what you have to say are not necessarily within the confines of an RCCG branch, so they will judge your material with standards they are used to and boy, your CD will grow moulds at the rate you're going.

Excellent and expensive don't always go hand in hand. There are creative ways to work within a budget. Find those who can make it happen. Your genre is not a license to be mediocre. Enough said!

P.s - And to those who have raised the bar, thanks. Keep the flag flying.

#okbye

©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2013/11/dear-inspirationalurbangospel-artiste.html

At a recently organized town-hall meeting for unemployed graduates, young people were asked to air their views about what they think the problem is with unemployment in Nigeria. Watch the videos for their very insightful responses.

https://graduatepro./2013/11/13/graduatepro-town-hall-meeting-videos/

Laugh all you want but this guy has his head screwed on right

http://naomilucas..com/2013/11/please-watch-hausa-man-wants-change.html

Even in chaos there is structure; if you look closely enough you'll find it.
There is some order to disorder.
A method to madness.
A splash of paint is by itself a pattern.
Disorganization is not a virtue; it shouldn't be mistaken for creativity or innovation.
Poorly turned out, cluttered spaces, missed deadlines, broken promises, deliveries never made...
These I find rampant in us, the young ones.
If you are serious about making money from your talent or business, leave your head in the clouds all you want, just make sure your feet are firmly planted on the ground.
And what will keep them there, is structure - a simple, efficient way of getting things done.
Learn it!

©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2013/11/chaos.html

And the story was told recently of a PHCN worker that collected a 6 million naira severance package and bought an SUV worth 5.5 million naira. His appalled colleagues had to cajole him and eventually get his superiors to persuade him to sell the vehicle. Reluctantly, he sold it a couple of hundreds of thousands less than how much he bought it. He had worked with PHCN for 20 years...

The first thing I thought when I read the story was the level of stupidity that pushed an old man to do such a thing. Faced with an uncertain future he made a decision that left him with 500,000 naira to spend for the rest of his life.

I can't blame him too much. The hyper-consuming, status-conscious, extravagant society we live in is enough to make a monk recant his vows. Ours is a generation that does not understand the meaning of delayed gratification. We eat the seed and pray for a harvest. Funny thing is, our faith in the God of impossibilities remains unshakable.

Its okay to live a decent, comfortable life, but also plan for those years when you are old and grey and too weak to move without wobbling on a walking stick.

"Go to the ant, you sluggard;
consider its ways and be wise!
7 It has no commander,
no overseer or ruler,
8 yet it stores its provisions in summer
and gathers its food at harvest"
- Prov 6 vs 6-8

©Naomi Lucas

http://naomilucas..com/2013/11/wait-for-harvest.html

After 2 years of searching in vain, you will say there are no jobs...

davide470: When I just saw the many, many questionnaire and *essay writing* on the application, I vex close the browser..

Can't they just accept CV and data's? Haba.

Return it. Period!

A Saudi Arabian has become an internet sensation by making a satirical remix of Bob Marley's 'No Woman, No Cry'

Watch here: http://naomilucas..com/2013/11/watch-no-woman-no-drive.html

...And you started your write up with ...The entertainment industry is dulling our inteligence

Indeed!

GRADUATEPRO in Partnership with ImpactHouse International and GOFAMINT, Region One will be holding a town-hall meeting with unemployed fresh graduates.

TARGET AUDIENCE:
Recent graduates of all tertiary institutions (Mono/Polytechnics, Universities, Technical Colleges etc.) that are currently unemployed.

OBJECTIVES:
To get first hand feedback on barriers to gainful employment
To determine participants training needs
To evaluate participants’ technical and soft skills gaps

WHY YOU SHOULD ATTEND:
•Get priority status for upcoming 1 Week Intensive Work Readiness BOOT CAMP
•Discuss your challenges with employability and get instant feedback and support
•Stop Complaining. Do something!

EVENT DETAILS:
Date: Sunday 3rd November 2013
Time: 3pm prompt
Venue: Main Auditorium, Gospel Faith Mission International, Region One Headquarters, 30, Ayantuga Street, Mushin.

To attend, send your name and qualification to: info.graduatepro@gmail.com (E.g. Marilyn Masin, HND)
http://graduatepro./2013/11/01/public-announcement-town-hall-for-unemployed-graduates/

Hilarious video. I don't know how to paste videos here, so you'll have to visit this link:

http://naomilucas..com/2013/11/brilliant-way-to-start-or-end-your-day.html

''I need to make things happen abeg, December is around the corner'' he lamented, as if I didn't already know.

I've heard people talk about December like there's a global performance evaluation that happens during that time. I think its beyond Christmas, there's just a restlessness about the season.

At the beginning of the year we set new year resolutions. Gradually, daily hustle pushes those well intended goals to the back burner. We regain our consciousness when we realize the 'ember' months are fast upon us and like christmas shopping on December 24th, the pressure, tension and excitement leaves us dizzy and irritable.

Its okay if your life is all goals, aims, objectives and KPIs but remember, it is the seconds that make the hours, the days, the weeks, the months and the years. The quality of life we live is a direct reflection of the things we do and the decisions we make per time.

So relax and row your boat will you? Stop looking around. You're the only one on the pitch - linesman, referee, keeper and player. If you score you win, if you don't its still your game.

And after all is said and done, the only one you should be in competition with is yourself. Set your records, break them. In my opinion, that is all that matters.

©Naomi Lucas
http://naomilucas..com/2013/10/december-is-around-corner-so.html