₦airaland Forum

Well, I'm Not Good At Matters Like This. But I Can Recommend a Decision Support Software Called Expert Choice.

You Really Need Professional Help. Its A Tough Decision. www.expertchoice.com

I Used It In Deciding Who To Date Recently Among "Competing Alternatives"

This Reminds Me Of The Jim Jones Loyalty To Death Saga. ( Guyana Tragedy)

Fan Is A Polite Word For Fanatic.

This is "Man" Worship At Its Best

By The Way What Is Romantic About This?

Wrong Threading Again!!

SeunAdmin Where U DeY?

Mr. "JellyFace" I Hope U Dont End Up With A Pulp Face

Ignoramuses!!

I Hope Its With The Interest.

Swindling Swiss"

Ultimate Scam IV

SUICIDE "BOMBRESS"

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Strapped In Explosives!!

Allah HellPlus++!!


Another Inventory Update To The Stock Of Hells Virgins Modulus 72!!

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Strapped In Explosives.

Allah HellPlus+ !!

S.H.A.R.I.A [b]S[/b]in [b]H[/b]as [b]A[/b]dverse [b]R[/b]epercussions [b]I[/b]n [b]A[/b]rabia.


Lets Get Creative I Need Contributions in Breaking This Cipher Called Sharia.!!

Ask Mohammed. I Think He Had Conversations With One By The Name All*h

Letter #11 from Saudi Arabia
High noon at Chop Chop Square
R.F. Burton
Private Papers


Please After Reading This Visit This Blog & Sign To Save A 17 Year Old Girl From Beheading http://saverizana..com/

[b]Also See The Video Interview of the Proud & Career Fulfilled Saudi Govt Appointed Chief Executioner (CEO) [/b]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqGJcpgKt4Y&NR=1


Last Friday I was invited to a beheading. Fortunately, it wasn't my own.

"They're going to chop one," Muhammad whispered, calling me on his mobile phone from a mosque in Deerah, "after noon prayer."

Renovated and remotely pleasant, Deerah resides deep in the black, clotted heart of old Riyadh. If anything approaches a tourist attraction in the Dead City, it would be Deerah. There you'll find a covered souk as colorful and picturesque as a Hollywood set, replete with cool, labyrinthine walkways redolent of spices, sandalwood, and rosewater. Old Arab men recline on piled Persian carpets, smoking hookahs and drinking tea, soft-selling everything from dusty chunks of frankincense and myrrh to coarse camel-hair saddlebags and scarred brass pots.

Around the corner is the gold market, showcasing enough of the metal to make a modern Midas mad with envy. Shop after shop groans with the weight of 18- and 24-karat gold fashioned into a constellation of sizes and designs. Crowns, tiaras, earrings, nose rings, studs, necklaces, chokers, chains, brooches, pendants, lockets, pins, gold belts, buckles, bracelets, bangles, charms, rings, anklets, toe rings, bars, money clips, coins, and key rings, all glittering like shards of the sun.

A short walk past the European-looking Clock Tower is the fully restored Masmak Fort, seized from the Turks at the turn of the last century. Past the fort and the mosque is a spacious tiled area called as-Sa'ah Square. In the evening locals gather there to talk, drink tea, and unleash their children to run amok in the moonlight. Come Friday morning the square is deserted until just before noon prayer. Then it is transmogrified into the bloodcurdling Chop Chop Square.

"If you leave now," Muhammad said excitedly, "you'll just make it."

"Thanks," I said, "but I think I'll have to pass." What could I say? The desire to see a human head lopped off—no matter how empty, vile, or evil—left me long ago.

When I first arrived in Arabia, a beheading was high on my list of must-sees. Right up there with gazing over Giza from the top of the Great Pyramid, watching funeral pyres on the ghats of the Ganges, and peeping from the perch of an elephant's back at randy rhinos frolicking on the steamy floor of a Nepalese jungle. Something cool to talk about at dinner parties when I returned to the so-called civilized world.

For six months my roommate and I drove from Al-Khobar to Dammam every Friday morning, had an Indian breakfast of masala dosa dipped in coconut chutney with cup after cup of sickeningly sweet, milky tea, and then wandered through the souks, killing time until noon prayer. At high noon we'd head to the old mosque in the center of downtown Dammam, next to Chopping Block Square, and wait around like vultures for a public execution.

One time an ambulance and several police cars parked near the mosque. The crowd became more animated. This is it, we thought. There was weird electricity in the air. Fifteen minutes later the ambulance and police drove off in a cloud of dust. It was another nonevent, another no-show. Human character being what it is, we grew impatient and gave up on seeing a beheading in Dammam.

"You don't want to see one," an older friend of mine named Fred told me a short time later.

"Why not?"

"Believe me, you're going to see enough ugly stuff by the time you're my age without having to carry around the memory of a beheading the rest of your life," Fred said. "You think it won't bother you, but it's a hard thing to see. Harder to forget. Wish I never went."

Then Fred told me about the execution he witnessed in the Dead City back in the 70s. Aside from one small detail, his account was much the same as other accounts I've heard over the years from other expatriates.

After noon prayer a police van holding the prisoner parked in Chop Chop Square next to the mosque. Police cars blocked off the streets and pushed the growing crowd back. The prisoner—drugged, cuffed, barefoot, manacled, and blindfolded—was led from the van by a police officer to the center of the square and made to kneel down, facing the holiest city of Islam: Mecca.



Like all expatriates in the crowd, Fred was escorted to the front by a scrawny muttawwa to ensure he wouldn't miss a thing. A minor official from the Interior Ministry read out the charges against the kneeling prisoner. The executioner—a large black man with a scimitar—approached the kneeling prisoner from behind. After the sentence was read, the executioner jabbed the prisoner in the lower back with the tip of the sword, causing the prisoner to involuntarily jerk up. When he did, the sword flashed down. At that moment the head is sliced off and sent flying across the square. Blood jets from the severed carotid arteries and jugular veins, spraying into the air like a fountain. The frenzied crowd screams in choreographed unison, "Allah Akbar"!


Allah's will is done.

That's how it's supposed to go. The beheading Fred witnessed went off a little differently. The executioner botched the job.

"I don't know if the prisoner had a short neck or he just jerked funny when they jabbed him in the back, but the blade glanced off his shoulder and only cut through half his neck," Fred said.

"He fell over sideways," he said. "I never saw so much blood. It was squirting out all over the place from the gash in his neck. He started moaning. It was awful. Even though he was doped to high heaven, it must have hurt like hell. It took two more swings to hack his head off."

"When it was over, I'll be damned if a doctor didn't walk over to the body and check his pulse," Fred said. "It was weird, seeing him kneel down next to a headless body, holding the wrist to make sure he wasn't going to get up and walk away."

Then the head and body were thrown onto a stretcher and placed in the ambulance and the ambulance driven away to bury the body in an unmarked grave. The excited crowd milled around for a while, cooling down from the excitement, then dispersed.

"I hear they spread plastic on the ground now," Fred said. "Then they just roll the mess up and take it away. That wasn't the case with the one I saw. Some poor half-starved Indian with a mop and a bucket had to clean up the mess. Nice job."

"What was he executed for?" I asked.

"Dope," Fred replied. "Smuggled it in from Pakistan. He was real young too. Bet he never imagined he'd be getting his head cut off one day for a damn fool mistake. Arabs say cutting a head off is more humane than the way we do it. It's supposed to be quicker. Maybe, if it's done right. It'd be a sight quicker than strapping a man in a chair and making him ride the lightning until his organs cook. What I don't like about cutting off a man's head is all that oxygen stored up in the brain. There's supposed to be enough oxygen to keep a man conscious even after his head's been cut off. All I know is it wasn't over fast enough for that boy. God knows what ran through his mind when they finally got his head off. It was awful."

As on other occasions, I took Fred's advice, and scratched beheadings off my list of must-sees.

A day after Muhammad's invitation to the beheading, on the way to work, I spotted a small news item in the Arab Gazette, no more than an inch of type on page five. One Zayid Bin Ali Bin Saleh Al-Thabitiwas had been beheaded for, among other offenses, practicing sorcery and magic.

I can't speak for the rest of the Dead City's denizens, but I'm not going to sleep any easier knowing there's one less sorcerer wandering the wastelands of Saudi Arabia. The Devil knows what mischievous imps that wizard conjured up those last horrific seconds of consciousness as his head rolled across the sun-scorched square.


Now Do A Good Deed Lets Join the Campaign in Saving Rizana!!!

Yes. If Shes Atrractive

Even Coup Plotters.

Major Saliba Mukoro of the April 22, 1990 coup "Orkar Coup" Had A Masters Degree In Criminology & A PhD. In Criminal Justice!!

HARDWORKING COMBATANT!!!

Your Cooking Salt Was Made Under The Sea. So Spread The "Rumour".

Lets Boycott The Use of Salt. It's "WeeEvil" Sorry Evil.

If You Feel Limited or Boxed In By Lower Grades, The Best Thing To Do Is To Upgrade Yourself. Its Not Too Late.

But If You Go Brooding It Will Be Too Late Soon. You Can Add Value To Yourself By A Postgraduate Degree or Additional Certifications.

The World Has Set A Standard.

If You Cant Conform To It, Then You Have To Set Your Own Standard. The Option Is To End Up As An Entrepreneur.

But The Truth Is This:

There Is No Easy Way Way Out. The Only Gateway Is The Gateway Of HARDWORK.

Even Militants And Kidnappers Have To Work Hard And Take Risks To Be Successful "EvilPreneurs"

GREATEST THREAT OF KIDNAP FOR EXPATRIATE WORKERS
1: Iraq
2: Nigeria
3: Haiti
4: Colombia/Mexico
5: Ecuador
6: Venezuela
7: Philippines

Source: ASI Global

Well, You can visit the websites below. And hey beware of all these agents. Many have been bitten. You have been warned.

May I Add Make Sure You Come Prepared.

There are No Opportunities for Work & Study Combined. Life is cheap but hard without a sponsor in Malaysia.

Don't believe anything short of this.

LINK: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_universities_in_Malaysia.


U can contact the Schools Directly. Beware of these Agents. A word is enough for the wise.


TIA. This Is Asia!

SOURCES:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6262974.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6267238.stm


MARRIAGE
Rasuz left Nigeria for a new life - but is now back

Rasuz's story
Rasuz moved from Nigeria to Holland for love - she married a Dutchman. But she found life difficult there and now they have moved with their children back to her birthplace Nigeria.

The meeting with the man who is now my husband was arranged by a friend who had married a European. I fell in love with him immediately.

We started preparing to go to Europe.

My expectation was to settle down and make a lot of money, and send this money back to my brothers and sisters and my uncles and aunts.

Of course I was in love as well - but as an African, to go to Europe is the best expectation of you.

When I arrived in Holland, my first impression was that it was too clean for me. I did not like the cleanliness. It is not like that in Nigeria.

But then in Europe, I saw that everything is cleaned, even plant pots. It was a shock.

The thing is that when you go there, you have to learn to integrate. You have to study, you have to work, you have to make ends meet - and then you have to remember that it will take time to get where you want to go.

Most Africans want to rush there for money purposes. But in my case, I was in love.

Kindness

I was younger then, and I thought the land flowed with milk and honey. Like most Africans, I thought there was everything there you could get. I did not know it would not be like that.

It was a massive culture shock. There is no noise on the buses. This intimidated me. I wanted to shout to someone to rescue me from the silence in most areas in Europe.


When desperate Nigerians and Senegalese get stopped or die while trying to escape poverty in Africa, they only have themselves to blame
In Nigeria I had a job as a teacher. When I got to Holland I did not try to teach or go on with my profession. When you get there, you have to learn to speak Dutch first, and learn how the Dutch think and about Dutch culture.

I wanted to become Dutch. I also wanted to become white. I found I liked the cleanliness and their honesty and their kindness. There was a lot of kindness shown to me.

People in Africa will not like to hear me say I wanted to become white, but as a black woman I do not think that is wrong, because it would have helped with what I want to achieve from Dutch society.

I returned to Africa because my husband had to go back to a job there as a scientist. And I wanted to go back and integrate again in the society where I was brought up.

When desperate Nigerians and Senegalese get stopped or die while trying to escape poverty in Africa, they only have themselves to blame.

It is not the best in Africa. You have to be prepared. Dying as a peasant is better than being shown on TV halfway between life and death.

There is no shortcut to heaven. If you do not suffer for it, you will never get it.

You have to try to make ends meet first before trying to get to Europe. No-one will have time for you there if you don't have money.

My journey was a cycle. My life today is a happy one.


SENT BY GOD

The Reverend Evans Ifejiaku is from Nigeria, but he lives in Italy, where he believes he was summoned by God.

After his first effort to get into Italy was refused, he trekked through the Balkans to try again. He is now a legal resident with the ministry in Padova.

I was ordained a reverend in 1995 - and all through these years I have been working as a man of God.

Then the Lord spoke to me, and said it was time to leave Nigeria for the white man's land.

I bordered an Alitalia jet from Lagos. On reaching Rome I was refused entry, because I did not have enough money.

My only chance was to go to Yugoslavia and try to get to Italy from there somehow.

Flying boats

When we got to Belgrade, it happened that I was the only person they accepted. Every other Nigerian was turned back.

We walked from Yugoslavia to Macedonia, and from there to Albania. Out of 15 people, only five of us had the vigour and strength to reach their destination.


We had to remove all our clothes - we were only allowed on the boats in our underwear
When we got to Albania, we found ourselves in a hotel. That was where I met my first Waterloo - several armed men broke into the hotel, came in, took our money. They stabbed everyone.

We left Albania at about midnight. We used flying boats. At times, they lifted us almost six feet above the sea.

They landed with a smack into the water.

A polythene bag was given to us. We had to put any important documents in that. We also had to remove all our clothes - we were only allowed on the boats in our underwear.

It took us between four and five hours to get from Albania to Bari. But as God may have it, our journey was successful.

You can see from this that God does not tell lies.

Reverend:
Respectable companies do not advertise for managerial candidates on forums!

Identity theft is on the increase and would advise nobody to send their personal details to unknown entities with Yahoo email accounts!

You have been warned people!

If the Job is real, the original poster in this thread should provide direct contact details for the Company involved!

Oh @Reverend i Thot They Said U ?

Any Openings At The Kinky Ch_rch?

CHECK THIS OUT

Last week, Yar’Adua played the part with ignoble perfection. He let himself be dragged out to a hotel room where Obasanjo hatched and executed an illegal take-over of the ruling party’s Board of Trustees. Yar’Adua’s presence at the "crime" scene lent legitimacy to Obasanjo’s illicit but altogether characteristic manoeuver. It also exposed Yar’Adua as a man with little mind of his own. Nigerians can’t afford to permit such a man to run, and ruin, their lives for four years.



Deaf to the popular sentiment in Nigeria that wants Obasanjo consigned to his farm (or worse), Yar’Adua has stepped out to consort with the nation’s public enemy number one. If there was a public relations disaster for the record books, this was it. Yar’Adua, who already labours under the burden of illegitimacy, exhibited poor political instincts when he chose to advance Obasanjo’s inordinate political ambitions. A friend sent me a doleful e-mail. "Obasanjo’s third term has just begun," he wrote.

In keeping Obasanjo’s perfidious company, Yar’Adua appears curiously intent to authenticate Nigerians’ suspicion that he was smuggled into the Presidency to act as stooge. His "presidency," by the evidence of his own act, seems marked by surrogacy. By helping the former president to hijack the reins of the ruling party, Yar’Adua has accentuated his own political deficits.

Which brings one to Yar’Adua’s fervent political enterprise: The selling of "unity government" as the fix for the crisis of illegitimacy in which his government is trapped. Let’s be clear: A unity government as conceived by Yar’Adua cannot address the nation’s political malaise. Far from acting as a credible instrument of remediation, Yar’Adua’s usurpation of the Presidency means he is part of the problem. As a usurper, he is encumbered by a lack of legitimacy. In that spirit, he lacks the constitutional wherewithal to initiate a unity government. Such a government is deeply pernicious, for its objective is to consolidate an illegality: The widespread disenfranchisement of Nigerians.

It is hardly surprising that some opposition parties are in thrall to the idea of unity government. They are, after all, factions of the usurping class, a collection of men and women who operate in an ethical vacuum and whose only principle is greed. These men (and a smattering of women) are wedded to the notion that Nigeria is theirs to gorge on. That explains their desperation to grasp some quota of ministerial and other political appointments.

"Unity government" is an invitation to the nation’s rapacious elite to congregate around the idea of collective sharing the spoils. It is a seductive idea for career politicians whose lone means of livelihood is lucre, but it represents a toxic prospect for other Nigerians. Predictably, the sponsors of this facile idea have taken to intoning the mantra of "moving the nation forward." The falsity of this creed is self-evident. Nothing founded on impunity and crime can move forward. And the April election was a carefully conceived, coldly executed crime against the sovereign will of Nigerians.

The right response to that crime—the proper way to move the nation forward—is for all sectors of society to repudiate the electoral heist, to expunge it from the national data.

The courts and tribunals should have the courage to lead in this process. Nigerians should encourage members of the Bench to do the right thing, to uphold the integrity of the Constitution and the sovereignty of the people. The judiciary ought to see to it that the impositions that passed for elections at all levels are squelched.
One has nothing against Yar’Adua. In fact, I suspect that if armed with a legitimate mandate, he may prove an astute President. He may be an angel for all we know. But the forces that imposed him on Nigeria are determined to, and will, stifle his angelic intentions.

Witness the alacrity with which Yar’Adua left off other engagements and hastened to Nicon Hotel at Obasanjo’s bequest to enable the old fox to consummate his seizure of party power. Witness Yar’Adua’s inability to reject Obasanjo’s cruel and senseless imposition of higher fuel prices on the eve of his departure from power.

Witness Yar’Adua’s spinelessness to probe, or cancel, the questionable sale of the nation’s refineries to friends of Obasanjo.
One must hope that Yar’Adua, deep down, is a patriot. If so, he must know that Nigerians deserve a legitimate government, not a confected and bastard mutant called "unity government." If he means well, let him rally the political parties, not to consolidate an illegality in the name of a unity of thieves, but to agree on constituting a high-powered, independent panel to investigate the sham elections.

It would fall to the investigation panel to recommend how to conduct credible elections run by trustworthy umpires, not a shameless academic who defends fraud. This is the road to be taken should Yar’Adua aspire to be a patriot and hero. If he wants to cling on to illegitimate power, then stay the odious course of "unity government."


SOURCE: http://www.sunnewsonline.com/backpage.htm

This Is My List Of Rich Villains

1. OBJ
1. Atiku Abubakar (Notice the Contention For No. 1?)
3. Andy Uba.
4. P. Odili
5. L. Igbinedion
6. B. Tinubu
7. S. Ahmed ( Sharia Funds)
8. C. Uba
9. J. Ibori
10. Alayesem,,,,,,,,,,,,,,Whatever (Heard He Had A Sex Change Op)

I Propose A Similar Ban On Proponents Of False Religion.

By The Way Whats False Religion? What Standards Do We Apply

Trance Cops

More Like Corpse Id Say.

Trans[/b]ition Announcement. Rest In PD[b]Pieces

evergie:
Hello Pain

Do you know of any penny stock one could buy now? I have 300k and im a newbie in stock biz. please if any let me know

Will U Take My Word?


See This Short Term (Sure Banker ):

Ecobank ( Will Double Yo Money In A Year)


These Coys Are Down Now. (Meet Them In Their Low Times. They'd Be In The 100.00s range in 2 years)


Nigerian Breweries Plc
Cadbury Plc


Long Term

BOC Gases
Standard Insurance Plc

IF U Have The Bucks Now

AP Plc.


Odd Eh? But Bet Me On These. Don't Ask Me How I Know. .

U Asked For My Opinion. Its Free of Charge.

The best route to becoming a successful investor is to listen more to your guts and intuition than to "Mordern Day Charlatans Clad in Fancy Suits".

Yes. Thats what I call most Stock "Experts". They just quote figures, percentages etc. Most successful investors use their "Guts" I swear.

I made some dough on Benue Cement more on my Guts than what my stockbroker had to say. Benue cement was 6.00 Naira when I was home last year.

Please check out the price now. Another was WAPCO. Even Okomu Palm Oil was 7 Bucks when I bought!!!!


Please Please, Enough of the "Charlatans" Clad in Suits.!!!!

Boy, I view the stock market like a Gambler in Las Vegas. He doesn't need any Harvard Biz School Training!!

Im a Damn Coder!!

I Know many would differ. But A Fluke is something I pray often to be blessed by/with.

Flukes Pay on The Floor.

the guy tried abeg, if i were in his shoes, i wouldnt do it. The figures i hear now are varying some say 850 , punch even went as high over 900. abi addition don hard.

Don't You Know Share Prices Fluctuate On A Daily Basis?

Programmed Replies

if and only if's---------- {Condition Statements}

Much of university teaching in Nigeria is based on traditional pedagogy and conventional curricula, and does not even meet the government’s own standards in these areas.
In today’s world, the content and method of Nigerian university teaching is often outdated, not responsive to employers’ requirements, and disconnected from the labor market.

Labor market demand for degree-based professional skills centers largely in engineering, business administration, health services, accounting and marketing. However, 49% of the supply of graduates produced by federal universities was concentrated in Arts, Education, Law and Social Sciences.

The mismatch is clear.


Likewise, i[b]ts research output is extremely low and unable to prompt innovation-based productivity gains[/b]. (When How many Papers Do Our So Called Professors Publish in A Year? Do They Feature in Any Popular Academic Journal?)

Check This Out:

On the research side, Nigeria's number of scientific publications for 1995 was 711 – significantly less than its output of 1,062 scientific publications in 1981 by a comparatively much smaller university system (TASK FORCE 2000).

In contrast, scientific publications were 3,413 for South Africa, 14,883 for India, 310 for Indonesia, and 5,440 for Brazil (TASK FORCE 2000). The country’s low research output probably reflects the low priority accorded to research and development by government decision-makers. For example, Nigeria's federal university system spends only 1.3% of its budget on research (HARTNETT 2000).


To increase the relevance and effectiveness of teaching and research, classroom dynamics may need to focus more on student learning performance, academic programs could seek stronger linkages with employers, and universities might pursue knowledge coalitions with other institutions that possess a comparative advantage in aspects of teaching and research.

RichyBlacK:
Implementing the appropriate functions in the widely-available Rich interface, comes close to real life. Look out for functions like:

getEducation()
acquireSkills()
investWisely()
socializeWithRichPeople()
startACompany()
occasionallyPlayTheLottery()

OK . Ok

Pain.investWisely();
Pain.occasionallyPlayThe Lottery();

I Hope It Works

Yeah. Even your Undies. Your Toilet Paper and Even Rice came from under the Sea (Rice Was Bioengineered By Swamp Spirits in Asia).

:Source: "A Paranoid Mind".

Even the English Alphabets. (So Stop Communicating With It). Form Your Own!!

And Lest I Forget to Add. Stop Drinking Water.

Water Spirits/Agents Live In Water.

Wanna Hear More?

(The Pope Was A Lady)