₦airaland Forum

11 Nov 2010 - Latest news in The Star Online
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2010/11/11/nation/20101111141334&sec=nation

Two Nigerians escaped, Immigration officers suspended

PUTRAJAYA: Two Nigerian nationals who are being deported for misusing their student visas escaped early Thursday morning.

One of two Immigration officers who were escorting the Nigerians for deportation claimed seven unknown men had used forced to free the two when he had stopped the van carrying the men at a petrol station near the airport.

The two Immigration officers had been placed under immediate suspension pending investigations.

KLIA Immigration Depot director Datuk Mohmed Asri Yusof said the two Immigration officers had taken the Nigerians to the airport together with a Palestinian, who was also to be deported.

He said one of the officers then escorted the Palestinian into the airport at 12.15am to check his flight home while the Nigerians remained in the van with the other officer as their flights was only scheduled for 2.55am.

However when the first officer returned after seeing off the Palestinian he found that his colleague had driven the van, with the Nigerians still inside, to a Petronas station nearby, supposedly to purchase some drinks.

"Fifteen minutes later the second officer contacted his colleague, who was still at the airport, to say he had been stopped by seven African men who had used force to free the two Nigerians before handcuffing him to the steering wheel," he told a press conference after attending the National Registration Department Innovation Day launch Thursday.

The second officer lodged a police report on the incident at 1.30am while the first officer lodged his report at about 3.30am.

The two Nigerians, Solomon Udo Eneh and Osuji Chinedu, were being deported after they were found to have abused their student visas.

Yusof appealed to the public to report anyone suspected of being an illegal immigrant to the police.

Home Ministry secretary-general Datuk Seri Mahmood Adam told the same press conference that the ministry was keen to know how the two Nigerians, who were handcuffed, managed to escape.

The ministry, he said, also wanted to identify any weaknesses in the escorting procedures that might have led to the incident.

He said the ministry was currently also working on tightening the standard operating procedure in escorting, transporting and deporting foreigners.

"The Immigration Department's Flying Squad has launched a manhunt together with the police and I believe we will be able to find them," he said.

Anyone at the scene who managed to obtain any photograph or video recording of the alleged incident can email it to newsdesk@thestar.com.my

^^^ Are you talking cheap?
You already said there's NO JOB in Malaysia and yet you are encouraging him to come over as a visitor and "make it" (silly remark from you) by trying his luck job hunting here.

@ Fkenny
Please be warned that Malaysians don't hire Africans; with few exceptions for professionals in limited specialised fields. Don't try your luck and waste your hard earned money looking for job here, you won't get any. Moreover, being a foreign visitor, you are not allowed to work. You don't want to end up in the detention centre if caught after the two weeks fun-filled time on your social visit visa expires. I'm tryna be honest here, you are African and you are black, you stand out among us so no Malaysian would risk employing you unless you have employment visa which could only be procured through the Malaysian Immigration Dept via your employer. The hassle is too much and approval is hard to get.

Some people might tell you money can solve the problem, I've no comment on that cos I adhore corruption. Anyway, it's your choice if you still wanna play the hard game.

@ tosag
Full of envy! Too bad mumu like you don't even have a chance to step foot in Malaysia.

Ask any travellers and they will tell you it's costly to use the hotel phone. The hotel will charge you at least three times the normal rate. A short call is fine but not when you yarn your way for hours at a time, bearing in mind the international call rate from Malaysia to Nigeria. Try calling from Nigeria to Malaysia and see how much it'll cost you next time. Well, there's always a lesson to learn from each journey we make in life but to pay RM1K for phone calls, now you've stretched to the limit.

A phone SIM card in Malaysia costs RM10 or less. You can then top up $30, $50, $100 or more (a minimum of $10 must be left on credit balance for international calls) and talk and talk your way to Nigeria. E.g. mobile rate for DIGI from Malaysia to Nigeria: RM1.28 per minute.

Have a safe journey home!

@ Rockstation
I think you've mistaken Malaysia with Indonesia.  We don't have earthquake in Malaysia, so the poster is quite safe here.

@ Poster, if you are not used to exotic flavours, why on earth you wanna try Indian food (LOL), there are plenty of Chinese and western fast food around.  Also, stay away from the Malay food cos they too like their curry with lots of spices and chillies.  Generally, Malaysians tend to prefer strong flavours and like spicy food because of the influence of various races in our society.

For those of you who do not know, Malaysia is a damn hot country. Day time temperature ranges between 27 to 32 degree Celcius. Humidity is consistently in the region of 70% to 80% throughout the year.

But right now it's rainy season in Kuala Lumpur so umbrella is what you need.

University Malaya (UM) is one of the top universities in Malaysia. Its fees are considered cheap because it's a public (national) university. Conversely, Limkokwing University is a reputable private university which charges exorbitant fees.

@ AK Money
Abeg, how sure are you that your application for enrolment with UM will be accepted since you've not even applied yet? Competition is stiff o!
Listen to what Chinois said below, he knows what he's saying. You won't go wrong with either one of the above U but you'll definitely save a lot with UM.

Quoted by Chinois
@ AK

Please forget that plan of going there and staying there and all that kurukere waka, na wahala you dey find if you take that route. I'd say have some patience, apply for the program at UM, get accepted, get your student visa and leave. When you get there, stick to what you went out there to do and be the very best you that you can be. It is always advisable to do things the legal and acceptable way in these countries, your life would be much more enjoyable and easier for it.

@ Suxes2005
You're most welcome!
About the airfare, check the link below, a round-trip ticket Lagos-KUL-Lagos by EMIRATES AIRLINES amounts to USD1,578.06. Are you sure you want to waste that kind of money for a one week holiday in Malaysia?

http://fly.emirates.com/IBE/ResultByPrice.aspx

Suxes, take my advice, save your money and do something good with it in Naija. Don't despair, you're a young man and there'll be plenty of opportunities for you to travel aboard next time. Work hard and be honest. May the Lord guide your steps and bless you for your faithfulness.

SHALOM

@ Suxes 2005
Even if your friend is given a social visa by the Malaysian Embassy in Nigeria, it's not a guarantee that he'll be allowed to enter Malaysia cos the final draw is with the Immigration Dept. at the KL International Airport (KLIA). He can be denied entry and asked to take the next flight home for rousing suspicion and for insufficient fund.
I'd advise you take heed of what Smile11s said that your friend brings with him no less that USD 2000. You don't want no problem, do you?

@Smile11s
Sorry that they didn't allow you to stay longer in Malaysia. Naija hustlers are doing bad things here. Some locals take to their heels when seeing them. Sad but the reality is, Nigerians give a foul smell for frequent crimes reported in the printed news here.
Yeah, I believe one-way ticket costs at least 75%-85% of a two-way ticket.

@ Tomaagy
I didn't write the piece. I wish I did. See my 1st post, I picked up from the link there. BTW, I thought it was a fiction.

For those of you who are lazy to read, hmmm too bad you've no taste for reading!

@ Pornodude
Bravo, bro! Thank you for appreciating the beauty of words.

@ baby.me
It "grammar" and not "grammer". Mr Cock was trying to correct you but I guess you didn't notice.

@ Omotola
Stop nagging and if you don't want to read, fine.

^^^^^
The summary - "you are either here or there, no in-betweens"

G-reycells said it well, "Many live a lie!"

@ Suxes 2005
$1,200 in US Dollar or Malaysian Ringgit?  It still doesn't sound right for a year of college fees in a proper private educational institution in Kuala Lumpur.  Your figure is too cheap!

Unless he's going through the backdoor with the help of a little known college that wants to make quite money without the need of the foreign student to attend classes, that I suspect might be possible.  In other words, he's buying his yearly stay in Malaysia which will ultimately cost him USD1,200 or more.  Well, there goes the TRICK if he's successful.  Shake head!  

Suxes, careful o, instead of tricking the Malaysian government you might end up being tricked by your so-called friend there.  Be wise.  

SHALOM

Before your friend even embarks on his journey to Malaysia, the dishonest behaviour is already making entrance for all to see. Asking for the issuing of a round-trip ticket but is only willing to pay for a one-way ticket is sheer nonsense. No international airlines will do that.

I'm sure he already knows that he can't enter Malaysia with a one-way ticket. Only you will believe that your friend is coming to Malaysia to study cos reading through your post, I can safely say that his plan is to come here and hustle. If he wants to save some money on his plane ticket, then he may find it difficult to pay for his college fees + living expenses.

BTW, tell your friend he doesn't need to pay high fees to any agent in Naija to help him secure a Malaysian student visa. The student visa can only be issued by the Dept. of Immigration in Malaysia and in fact he can do all the groundwork himself without the interference of any suspicious agent.

Check the links below for more information:
http://www.study-malaysia.info/malaysia_student_visa.htm
http://www.imi.gov.my/index.php/en/services/visitors/pass/student-pass

There is something deceptive about the born-again phenomenon. I think of this every Sunday when I drive down Church Road to the golf course to honour my weekly challenge with a couple of friends. The buildings -some mere batches- of different designs which line the entire length of that Road with their noisy loudspeakers directed at each other told many tales of what cynicism and hopelessness could do to a people. But perhaps more absorbing are the church goers themselves. Clad in their Sunday bests with Bibles and hymn books in hand, waiting for buses, crossing the roads, emerging from or disappearing into those rat-holes of church buildings, they brought to fore one of Karl Marx’s most popular quotes.

But that wasn’t what the deception was all about. Since I caught or rather chanced on my roommate back in the University, a pastor of one of the hip and happening campus fellowships, necking feverishly with one of the “sisters” who supposedly visited for a special Prayer session, I had ceased to take any one who flaunted a born-again status seriously.

I was then just a freshman and before my second year, I had come to appreciate the easiest tactics for acquiring a new girl friend on campus. All you needed to do was to attend a fellowship session and make sure you walked out to the dais when the call for “those worshiping with us for the first time was made”. Sisters were always assigned to follow up the new male members and for so many, I inclusive, the follow up visits of these sisters ended up turning from spiritual to emotional sessions. I have never ceased to marvel at just how creative these “holy” girls could be behind closed doors.

So when I first sensed the born-again thing in her, I knew I was in for some thrilling experience. Stacy was her name. We met at a poetry reading. I wasn’t a big fan of poetry my appreciation of it not going quite beyond Twinkle Twinkle Little Star but on that day I had gone all the way to Wuse II to listen to the shy Jumoke Verissimo read from her new collection; I am Memory. A review of the collection I had seen in a local daily had one of the most respected names in Nigeria’s literary circle remarking that “Miss Verissimo remakes language beyond lyricism”. I wanted to be a witness.

Just as the usually drab Q&A session began with such banal questions as why do you write, what inspires you, who are your favourite writer’s etcetera beginning to fly around, I felt a soft touch from behind accompanied by a soft voice demanding to have a peep at my copy of the collection. She had just arrived I guessed and still had this look of a pupil arriving late to a mathematics class - cursing herself silently for coming late and wondering just how much she had missed. I felt some pity but I didn’t however fail to notice the radiant beauty, one which had me speechless for a couple of seconds before my hands got to pass the book over to her.

I saw something more to the beauty, brains. Later that evening as we shared a meal at the Wuse II Mr. Biggs outlet and all the way as I drove her to her house in Lugbe. Before that evening was over, I knew we were going to repeat this and indeed we did. We met every day of the coming week talking -arguing really- on a wide range of issues; on why Kongi isn’t the greatest, or why Achebe deserved a Pulitzer, or just what could be done to restore the glory of creative writing in Nigeria. She was passionate and I had often intentionally taken the less popular side in the argument, making very illogical claims just to tease and get her adumbrating to the point of near infuriation.

We took the same stand on an issue for the first time when we made love on one hot Saturday afternoon at my place two weeks after the poetry reading. In a way, it was essentially also an argument, she on top riding, whining, moaning and digging her finger nails deep into my flesh. Me, beneath bearing over 60kg, galloping in the alternate direction with my waist doing the salsa dance. Her sensual vituperations sounded as though she was speaking in tongues like I had heard her do the other day she invited -virtually dragged me- to the mid week fellowship of her church.

I had entered the place feeling like an alien. I was an orthodox Christian by birth but I had not been to a church in a long while. I had found it almost impossible to justify why I should toil so much only to deposit a share of it weekly for a man who does nothing but tell me about what is already written. One day I decided I had had enough of contributing for the Reverends new car or his wives new Adire business, so I stopped going to church. I knew what it entailed to hurt another person and I avoided such. That to me satisfied the primary requirements for living a good life. It wasn’t long before I started feeling that familiar irritation inside Stacy’s church. Without sounding insolent, the place looked more of a social gathering than a church with girls so lewdly dressed, gyrating excitedly, their firm mounds joining in the rhythm, inviting -tempting- any man who decided to take more than just a careless look.

The pastor, one of those returnee Nigerians dished out his American accent-coated sermon like water from a sprinkler. Better came out as ‘berra.’ His hair was curled and a glistering suit, the type with price tags that ran like telephone numbers clung to his shoulders. He was saying something about Psalm 23, a psalm I had memorized at age six, and for some reason his congregation kept jumping up excitedly at the end of his reading of every sentence like they were hearing it for the first time. The high point of the day was however when the prayer started and I heard and watched Stacy reel out phrases, which became sentences which soon turned into pages and pages of incomprehensible jargon's. When I asked later in the car what it was all about, she had told me she had been overtaken by the spirit.

So as we lay backs to the bed and eyes to the ceiling, exhausted after our feverish bout of desire had expired, I imagined that she must have been overtaken by the spirit a while ago. It had all happened in a flash. She had arrived looking edible in a tight jeans and a sky blue blouse which gave more than a generous view of her twin pointer. I remember swallowing hard when I first caught sight of them while opening the door to let her in. Her demeanour betrayed her desires. I didn’t need to demand, she gave. I was afraid that perhaps the spirit might have now left her and she would soon begin to regret every thing. But not so, it soon became a routine, at her place, in my place and once even in the back seat of my car. The sex was good no doubt, but I couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that seemed to seep out along with the sweat as we lay gazing at the ceiling and the circling fan hanging from it after each bout.

I wasn’t a righteous person, I never laid claim to being one. Issues like fornication mattered very little to me but with Stacy, a supposed born-again it felt so wrong. Unrighteous people appreciated the existence of the righteous and wished they remained so, at least to maintain the balance between good and bad while nursing a silent desire that perhaps one day, they too would become righteous. My born-again girl friend was born-again in every other issue but in my bed. Every speech was laced with lines like “My pastor said”, she paid her tithe as at when due, had every tape of all the Sunday sermons in a rack in her house, spoke in tongues and was a worker in the church. Often she rushed off to one church meeting or the other right from my bed still reeking of the Passion play we just acted. It didn’t feel right. It filled me with a dizzying urge to act out on God’s behalf, like it hurt me so much that He was being cheated.

My discomfort which came in the form of a needle-like pricks beneath my feet had every thing to do with my strongly held principles; you are either here or there, no in-betweens. I felt those pricks each time Stacy’s actions had to conflict with her born-again status, like when we met one of her fellowship sisters in Ceddi plaza and she introduced me blankly as Mr. Bode, like I was some stranger she just met, or when I on her invitation attended a Talk their sisters fellowship organized for singles. Stacy had been one of the speakers and had with a lucid oratory spoken on a wide range of issues among which was a reminder that “our Body was the temple of the holy spirit”.

I had felt those needle-like pricks, so strong it felt like I was going to die of them on the day we broke up. It was a Sunday afternoon. We had just exhausted with a wave of desire and she was, her hand mirror in hand, making up to meet up with the Evening Service of her Church. She had spent the night at my place and had a ready excuse for any one who asked why she wasn’t at the morning service; “I was on Night shift”, an excuse I had heard her give on the phone to her co-church workers right from under the covers of my bed on countless occasions. The excuse found justification in the fact that she worked at The Sheraton and sometimes, she was genuinely on Night shift. As I watched her artistically line her eyes with a pencil that evening, the pricks of guilt overwhelming me, I decided to tell her I didn’t think it was right for her to still attend Church that evening.

Initially Stacy thought it was a lure for more. “Common baby, can’t you ever get enough of me?. I mean I was here all night.”

“You seem not to get me”

“I understand baby just that I have to attend church. Ok, I will head back here and go to work from here tomorrow. Is that alright?” She spoke with all her attention at the mirror.

Her reply only served to increase the pricks.

“Must you go?”

“Of course you know I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because, why all the questions honey?” she dropped the mirror and turned to face me. Her face had that look she always had when we argued. She thought I was in for an argument. She always won the arguments or rather, I always let her win just so as to make her happy. Like some days ago when while watching television together, an advert on the new Information ministers effort at Image laundering was aired and I had made a derogatory remark about it, describing it as another ill fated effort at deodorizing dog poop. Stacy had taken it personal saying every thing good, or she thought was good about it. Essentially she was celebrating the Minister whose efforts at freeing Nigeria of fake drugs is celebrated, not offering any logical justification for the millions to be spent on trying to ‘pancake” our image as a nation. I knew better, that over a billion was expended by a similar effort in the past that yielded no result and that common sense provided that you don’t succeed in riding a room of the foul smell of a decaying rat by spraying an air freshener. You had to take time to find and remove the offending carcass before your air freshener would be of any worthwhile effect, but I just let her talk and talk, at the end, I planted my lips against hers, conceding defeat.

She wasn’t going to win this particular argument however. It wasn’t really an argument; it was me telling her that she was doing a lot of disservice to herself by living a shameful life of deception. The loud bang of my door as she stormed out summed up how she felt at hearing me say all I said, and those I did not have to say. The pity I felt for her was genuine and I thought I needed to apologize but she wouldn’t pick my call and when I called at her place, she refused to let me in.

I saw her again at the next Reading. She was sitting three rows behind me. The Guest writer this time wrote short stories, and while he was busy explaining the complex use of present and past tense in his stories, I turned my neck in an effort to make eye contact with Stacy. I had done that repeatedly all evening without success, but this time, our eyes met and I could see that beyond the chairs and people that separated us in that little hall was a mutual feeling of regret; gallons full of regret flowing from the knowledge of what was and what could now never be. When I turned my neck again, she was gone.


http://publishyourstory..com/2009/08/my-ex-by-sylva-nze-ifedigbo.html
This is a rib-cracking piece. Love it!

Cheers!
Have a good day, Chika.

"London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, "

^^^ Sorry Chika
Didn't mean to mislead. I remember many years ago when I visited London, I actually paid to enter some of these places. I'm sure of that. But I guess it's free now. Lucky Omega!

Omega

Make sure you change enough British Pound cos the tickets to enter all these tourist spots like museums, National Gallery and Madam Tussaud ain't cheap. Enjoy your holiday!

^^^ Hahaha, It's getting so funny!

Don't be stupid. You wanna do drugs, this is what you get in Malaysia!

http://www.thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2010/7/26/nation/6733733&sec=nation
Monday, July 26, 2010

Customs officers nab Nigerian with syabu in bag

KOTA KINABALU: Eagled-eyed Customs Department officers have arrested a Nigerian man with 2.7kg of syabu in his bag at the international airport here.

The 37-year-old foreigner had apparently checked in the cargo in Kuala Lumpur earlier.

Customs officers became suspicious during his arrival at Terminal Two of the airport here at about 1pm on Saturday.

Customs deputy director-general Datuk Md Yusop Mansor said the officers raised the alarm after putting the man’s bag through the scanner.

They found a false bottom in the bag where the drugs were hidden, he told reporters here yesterday.

Md Yusop said the drugs had a street value of RM688,000.

However, he declined to say where the drugs were from or how the suspect managed to slip through the airport in Kuala Lumpur.

He said investigations were being carried out under Section 39 (b) of the Dangerous Drugs Act, which provides for the[b] mandatory death sentence upon conviction.[/b]

Md Yusop said it was the fourth time his officers had foiled a bid to smuggle in drugs via the airport over the past few years.

He added that the three previous cases were detected at Terminal One of the airport.

@ Hugooh42
Thanks so much for your reply. If you ever get to meet her online again, please attach this link to her. Tell her she must read this thread.
If she still doesn't want to listen, then let her have her way. You've done your part to warn her. Thanks again. Bless you!

hugooh42:
You know they will make you fall in love and spoil you to the extent you do silly things for them.i recently lost a girl to one of them,a girl from one of these east Asia country.I know she will soon be a victim.Its crazy how those girls fall in love.

Please, can you not warn your friend about the danger she's getting herself into?
I flinch when I think of the consequence of her action. My God, her life is gonna be ruined like Christina. These girls are young, naive and ignorant; possibly 1st time travelling out of the country and worse, blinded by love.
Please, help your friend. You could save her life!

Omo Alata:
A wife and mother of 5 kids I doubt it somehow unless dem use juju for me I won't even carry someone's bag for them at the airport

Good for you. Watch out for your kids. They do silly things!

Omo Alata:
A 22 year old should know better

Don't be so sure. You might be the next bait!!!

MRbrownJAY:
thanks will send the article to a few mates back in China.

You're welcome.
Here's an update in the local newspaper today.

Missing Kuching lass caught as drug mule in China

KUALA LUMPUR: The polytechnic student who went missing with an African man for more than two months has been located – she was caught at the Haikou airport in China as a suspected drug smuggler.

Investigations revealed that Christina Luke Niju, 22, had arrived in Hainan on April 29 and had been issued a visa until July 29.

On Wednesday, her distraught parents had sought help from MCA Public Services and Complaints Department head Datuk Michael Chong to find their daughter after she failed to return home.

Chong said Christina, a Kuching Polytechnic student, was arrested on June 29 and had since been detained at the Hainan detention centre in Guangzhou.

“She is still being investigated. When the process is done, we can arrange for the parents to see her in China,” Chong told a press conference here yesterday.

He said Christina’s was one of the 10 cases over the last year involving Malaysians being used as drug mules to China.

He said seven of them had been sentenced to between 15 years and life imprisonment in various parts of China while the trial of one woman was pending. He added that a Malaysian man had been executed.

He said all these cases involved African men who conned their victims into becoming drug mules.

“I believe this trend is becoming very serious and I will brief MCA leaders about these cases so that this issue can be raised in the Cabinet,” said Chong.

On April 28, Christina had told a roommate that she would be going on a business trip to China with an African man named James.

Her parents lodged a missing person’s report with the police in Sandakan, who then passed the information to the Kuching police.

They sought Chong’s help after all attempts failed.

http://www.thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2010/7/17/nation/6686584&sec=nation

MRbrownJAY:
where is the picture of the gal? where is that info from?!

Check these links:

http://www.nst.com.my/nst/articles/20sic/Article

http://www.nst.com.my/nst/articles/14liza/Article

, to be my awfully wedded (wife/husband) ,