₦airaland Forum

I saw this story while surfing the internet last night. I couldn't help but imagine what we go through just to get the attention of pretty ladies. While the beautiful ones (beauty is in the eye of d beholder though) go dey form, the ugly ones go just they flock around us like vulture wey see dead body. Well, I don't know if this story is real or not, my joy is that it has not ended and I'm prepared to follow it as it unfolds.


[color=#990000][/color]The Diary Of Nobody

I was minding my business eating a plate of Santa and Oha soup that I had to queue up for minutes to buy. The main reason why I hardly eat out at Frenzy is because of long queues especially at rush hour and, of course, the lackadaisical attitude of the attendants.

However, on this Friday evening I defiled all odds and when I had settled down to eat, I’ve only swallowed a handful of morsel when I was distracted. Guess what happened? A smashingly beautiful girl made a regal entrance into the eatery. She caught my attention so badly that I forgot the taste of the food in my mouth. I gazed at her admiringly as she took her place on the queue. As Cupid would have it, this damsel walked in alone. So, I said a silent prayer in my mind. You know what my prayer was about? I prayed that she would take the sit next to mine when she’s served. This girl is so beautiful that I noticed some guys staring at her as she stood waiting for her turn. I became uneasy and scared that if I don’t act fast someone else would cease my opportunity. Of course I know how fast most guys can be in making acquaintance with pretty ladies. At this point, I stopped eating and what was going on in my mind was to join her in the queue.

Before you misunderstand me, I’m not a Casanova or a womanizer like you’re thinking right now. In fact, maybe I should tell you a little about myself.

I got admission to study Economics at the University of Nigeria (the only University in Nigeria, others are Secondary School) after trying unsuccessfully to get Law for two years. I am in my two 200level and my GPA after two semesters is 4.8. I am in my twenties and I’ve never had a girl friend. Well, let me put it this way, I have female friends but I’ve NEVER had intimate relationship with any girl. The little I know about relationship is from the stories told by my male friends. I should also mention that they make fun of me about being too scared to approach girls. In my opinion, I don’t consider myself shy but in the presence of girls especially the ones I have crush on, I just can’t help but lose my wit. I think the problem is from my village. LOL.

Although I read a lot but I just can’t remember the Philosopher that said that the death of fear lies in doing the things that scare us. Some of the male friends I have in my class, in their bid to help me, keep pointing out the girls that they think have a crush on me. They said that going for a girl that has a soft spot for me will make my work easier; you won’t have to spend all your energy and resources trying to woo her. That’s their opinion but, as for me, each time we’re in the class or maybe walking home after lectures and they tell me to approach girl A or B I simply tell them that I don’t have time for girls now until I at least get to my third year. This is not because I can’t handle both academic and relationship stress, I simply don’t have time for shenanigans. Truth be told, for the little time that I’ve spent in this glorified den of lions and lionesses, I’ve come to find out that what most girls are looking for are ATM machines and not relationship. As for the guys, even the blind knows that what most of them are looking for in a girl is her ‘Bermuda Triangle’. No wonder, the moment a guy meets a girl today before one finishes saying Jack Robinson, they’re already living together. Tufiakwa this generation! Well, this will be a story for another day.

When I failed to secure admission to study Law in UNN, I vowed that I’ll make a first class in Economics; God helping me. To say that I’m scared that going into a relationship especially at this stage would make me not achieve this dream of mine is somewhat correct. However, the moment she walked into Frenzy and my eyes caught up with hers this evening, everything changed. I forgot that I was even a student.

I was still thinking of whether to join her on the queue when it got to her turn. She bought what she wanted and turned to leave. I was disappointed when I discovered that her food was packaged in a takeaway bag. As I sat staring at her like someone who have seen a strange creature, she walked passed me and headed to the exit. On the spur of the moment, I hastily washed my hands, took my bag and dashed out of Frenzy forgetting to collect my change. Honestly, I didn’t just know what came over me. Who would believe that I, the Economist (and at that moment hungry) would leave my food to go after a girl who I don’t even know her name?

As I hurried after her, I kept thinking of how to spark up a conversation. “Hello, my name is Nobody and I think I like you. Hello, do you mind if I walk you? Hello, are you a student of this school…” Honestly, I know I’m smart and I have a lot going on so well for me, but when it comes to spinning a girl, my heart beats so fast that I forget what to say sometimes.

I kept trailing behind her but I summoned on courage when it was obvious that she would soon enter her hostel.

“H-e-l-l-o” I-I-I think you look like someone I know,” I struggle to say when I was within a close range.

“Someone you know?” she turned to look at me “Well, I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“But I’ve seen you before,” I interjected.

“Of course you may have seen me before; after we’re in the same school and I walk the length and breadth of this school everyday. Chances are that we’re bumped into each other. But since you’re too eager in letting me know where we met, I’m all ears.”

“You make it sound like you’re Natasha Obama, or should I say, Zarah Buhari,” I made a joke and started smiling. To my surprise, this damsel that I left my food and my change to pursue frowned and turned to leave.

“Come on, I’m sorry; it was only a joke,” I apologized. I think we got off on the wrong foot, Well, my name is Nobody (name not real) and..?”

“Young man, I’m not interested in what your name is; as a matter of fact, I have food in this bag that’s getting cold every minute I stand here trying to figure out who you are and where we’ve met.”

“That’s rude!” I blurted out. “Since its obvious that this would be a waste of both your time and mine, I think I should just turn and leave. Let’s just pretend we never had this conversation,” I turned to leave.

“Wait, wait,” she said. “I think you should finish what you started,” she said with a smile

I was so happy when she urged me to finish what I started. Maybe this is going to work, I thought.

“Should I tell you the truth?” I began, ”We’ve actually not met but I was correct when I said that I’ve seen you before.”

“Ehm,” she said impatiently.

“I saw you for the first time a couple of minutes ago when you walked into Frenzy to buy the food you’re carrying. The moment I saw you, I just knew I won’t forgive myself if I don’t get the chance of speaking with you.”

“what did you say your name is again?”

“Nobody” I replied enthusiastically.

“Well, Nobody, you’ve had that chance. Although I’m not Natasha or Zarah but at least, having spoken to me you can now go home and forgive yourself.” Saying those words, she hastened up and disappeared into Mary Slessor. I suppose that’s her hostel. But before she entered Slessor, I apologized and asked for her name and her number. She said she was in a bad mood but that if I’m lucky, the next time we meet she would tell me her name and maybe give me her number.

Eziokwu Eziokwu, boys don suffer for this world. We’ve been suffering since the time of Adam and Eve. Sometimes I have a problem with the way these girls, especially the pretty ones treats us like shit. That notwithstanding, I’m sure today would not be my last visit to Mary Slessor. In fact, for now I’ll make it my favourite female Hostel. I’ll continue this story next Friday, Feb. 5. Who knows, I may be lucky to make this girl that appeared in Frenzy and disappeared in Slessor my Val come Feb. 14th. Nne, in case you’re reading this story, I’m sorry I had to go this far. But be rest assured that I won’t divulge your name (if I eventually get to find out what name you bear) or any of you personal information. And, I’ll stop this write up on how things turned out between you and I if you ask me to. I don’t know if I should say this here, “Next Friday evening, I’ll be at the Canteen in Slessor hoping to see you again. Do have a wonderful weekend. And please, when next we meet, try and make things a little easier for me.”

QUESTIONS WE WANT YOU TO ANSWER

Do you think Mr. Nobody made a mistake in approaching the girl he saw at Frenzy?
Do you think the girl was rude in anyway?
Should a guy approach a girl he has not met before?
What is the best manner/method of approach?
Should Mr. Nobody go back in search of the girl

Source: http://unn-edu.info/2016/01/friday-night-stories-the-diary-of-nobody.html

There are people who can never be forgotten in a hurry because, what they did for humanity would forever remain audible in our ears. They fought for the peace and the freedom that we are enjoying today.

Nelson Mandela was one of such men. Born Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela on 18th July 1918, he died on 5th December 2013. He was a South African who stood up against apartheid, a politician and a philanthropist who served as President of South Africa from 1994 to 1999. He was the country’s first black chief executive, and the first elected in a fully representative democratic election. Mandela served 27 years in prison, initially on Robben Island and later in Pollsmoor Prison and Victor Verster Prison. He was a leader that was ready to die for what he believed in. According to him, “When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw.”

Nelson Madiba Mandela came, he saw and he conquered. So, as we celebrate 2 years of his departure, let us remind ourselves of his values with this poem titled A MAN LIKE NO OTHER


A MAN LIKE NO OTHER

Madiba, where have you been?
You towering giant of a man
Who stood against oppression
Even in the face of opposition
You showed tenacity in the midst of adversity
Taking upon yourself the suffering of humanity
And at Robbin Island you toiled in humility
Where men are stripped of dignity.

Madiba,
You were not Christ
Yet you acted like the Messiah
Dealing a deadly blow to apartheid
Racism came crashing under your feet
As you stood alone on the part of Justice
Madiba, oh Madiba!
You were sent on an errand of mercy

Who shall we now brag about?
When Mahatma Gandhi has gone
And the Zik of Africa is no more
Even the voice of Martin Luther has gone mute
And injustice stands as strong as the rock of Gibraltar
With no one as strong as Madiba,
To fight the cause of common men.

A strong man in the clan has gone
A man stronger than poverty and oppression
A man who chose peace in the face of war
A man who forgave in the face of wrongs
A man who showed us the way to peace
A pathfinder and a pace setter
You left a shoe bigger than humanity
But your words spread across bridges.

In Rivonia trial you stood tall
Even in Robben Island you endured
Having the prison walls come down
You fought in the battle of gladiators
Apartheid came but you defeated.
Madiba, oh Madiba the mender of wounded souls
Your valour and gallantry we all know
Your life and wisdom we celebrate

Nelson Madiba Mandela,
A man born on the month of Julius Caesar
You lived like Messiah,
Even as Isaiah prophesied
You died on the same month Christ was born
As we remember your departure
I pray that your spirit comes upon our leaders
Farewell, Farewell, the great Madiba______ man of peace.

SOURCE: http://ordinaryjustice.com/a-man-like-no-other/
Cc: Lalasticlala

As we celebrate World AIDS Day today, I do hope u'll enjoy this

[center][/center]He Chose Death

It was 3am in the morning and Ikenna was sitting on the edge of his bed sweating profusely. At a time when the whole country was asleep the tears that trickled down his cheeks blurred his vision in the dim-lit room. He blew the content of his nostril into a white handkerchief beside him____ the hanky which was already soaked with tears. He tried to stand up but he could not withstand the stab of hurt which seemed to be tearing his heart out of his chest. “I’m finished!” he mumbled.
Ikenna looked a forlorn figure sitting on the bed. He never believed that anything could make him cry but there he was paralyzed by fear; eyes swollen as a result of having cried for hours. The once ebullient and lively young man who was in his late twenties had gone to bed after drinking heavily. He could not explain how he came home last night and, as for how he ended up on the comfortable bed in his room, he knew his mother was the hand behind it. Ikenna came home the previous night drunk; the stench of alcohol mixed with the smell of cigarette oozed out of the t-shirt he was wearing. His mother found him lying down on the balcony as he kept talking gibberish. She cleaned him up and like the baby he was twenty something years ago, she, with the help of the houseboy carried her son to his room and laid him down on the bed.
One thing about getting drunk is that it has a way of making the drunkard forget his sorrow momentarily.
Reality was staring Ikenna in the face the moment he woke up that morning. His legs were shaking when he stood up and, in a staggering gait he walked to the corner of the room where a bottle of half empted 501 was lying on the floor. He lefted it with shaky hands and began to examine the label. In a moment of rage, he hurled the bottle against the wall. Within a split second, the bottle broke making a loud noise, and the pieces of the glass splintered everywhere. Almost immediately, his mother who was sleeping in the adjoining room ran into his room barefooted. She stepped on a piece of the broken glass and blood started splattering out. She sat on the bed crying ‘Chim egbumuo!’ My God has killed him.
Ikenna rushed with a tissue paper as he struggled to stop the bleeding. “Bia nw’a, kedu ife bu nsogbo gi? What’s your problem?” She asked with a frowned face.
“Mama, please I’m sorry. Biko gbahara m?
“That’s not the issue here. The last time I checked, you came home drunk and smelling cigarette. Ikenna, kedu ubosi nke’hu bidoro?” When did you start drinking and smoking?
“Press this tissue there and hold it on that spot so that the bleeding will stop,” he ignore her question.
“This is the third time you’re coming home drunk. Tell me, what’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem at all. I just hung out with some of my old friends.”
“So hanging out with friends means you should get drunk? Do you want to die before your time?”
“Mama, nobody is dying. Let me get methylated spirit and a cotton wool so that I can dress your wound.”
“It has stopped bleeding,” the woman held her son by the hand and tried to make him sit on the bed beside her. “Sit down, there’s something I want us to talk about”.
“Let me treat your wound first,” he offered.
“It’s just a minor cut,” she examined it closely. “I’m sure I’m ok now.”
Ikenna had barely sat down when his mother said, “My son, you have to tell me what the problem is so that you and I can figure out a way to solve it.”
“Mama, I already told you that everything is fine!” Ikenna blurted out.
The woman allowed some time to pass before she started again, “In case you’ve forgotten, I wasn’t born today, And you should know that I know you so well to know when you’re lying to me. Look at your eyes, they’re swollen”.
“Nne, honestly you should leave me alone,” he looked away.
“Why would I leave you alone when last night was the third consecutive time you’re coming home drunk? Tell me, what is it? Is it Sylvia? Did she make you angry in any way?”
“Leave her out of this; she has nothing to do with my drinking.”
“Well, I think it’s high time I told you this. Sylvia was here this afternoon complaining bitterly. She said you wouldn’t pick her calls for three days now.”
Ikenna’s heart skipped when he heard that his fiancée came by the house. He wanted to hear more. “What did she tell you?” he asked
“She said you started acting strangely after you left the hospital with here three days ago. She said you even sent her a text message saying that you two were not compatible and that she should move on without you.”
“She told you that!” Ikenna sounded surprised.
“Yes she did. Now tell me, why would you do such a thing to that nice girl? Someone that loves you so much as to use the influence of her father to get you a job. Ikenna, that girl is heartbroken and she deserves better than this your stupidity. Come to think of it, you would’ve amounted to nothing without her help.”
“Mama, that’s a lie! Oh, you think it’s easy to come out of the university with a 2:1? I was employed on merit,” he bragged
“You were employed on merit my fort! Where was merit when you roamed the streets without a job for two calendar years? Where was merit when we could not afford a one room self contained apartment? Now we live in a flat and you even have a car of your own. Thanks to the job you secured through the influence of that girl’s father.”
“Point of correction, Mama, Sylvia didn’t get me this job so that I’ll marry her. There are other better, healthier and more promising young men out there. And, for your information, when she introduced me to her father six months ago, before I was given appointment letter, she told him I was just a friend.”
“You’re an idiot!” the woman said angrily. “You think you’re doing Sylvia a favour by being in a relationship with her? On the contrary, she did you a favour by accepting that useless ring you put in her finger a month ago.”
“Mama, that’s enough!” tears impulsively fell from Ikenna’s eyes.
“Ike, my son, even fools do not spit out sugar that is put in their mouth. Apart from being a former governor’s daughter, that girl is pretty and as homely as any man would want his wife to be. Now tell me, if you never liked her why did you engage her?”
“Er…um, hmm“ Ikenna stuttered, “I didn’t say I don’t love her. I do love her but we’re just not compatible, period.”
“Who said you’re not compatible? I’ve watched you two for months now; all I say is a perfect couple.”
A moment of silence passed. In that moment, it was only the tick tick of the clock that was heard.
Ikenna was the first to speak, “Mama, I love Sylvia so much that I would love to make her my wife right now but fate sometimes has a way of opposing the decisions we make or would’ve made in life”.
“What do you mean by that,” the woman asked
“After the test we had at the hospital it turned out that we can’t get married because both of us are of the AS genotype.”
“How’s that possible!” the woman stood up from the bed. She thought for a while before she said, “But, wait o, before you entered the university you did that test and it showed that you’re AA like I had always known since were a child.”
“Mama, I’ve told you, I’m AS and she’s AS; that the reason we can’t get married!” Ikenna blurted.
The woman was about to say something when her son stood from the bed, took a pillow and went to the sitting room to lie down on a couch. She decided to let him be for the moment but she knew within her that that would not be the end of the matter.

The village of Umuofia was thrown into confusion on an Eke market day. The business of that day was grounded by the tragedy of that morning. At the popular Eke market square, the awful sight which was beheld by many brought tears even to the eyes of men. Leaving their thoughts to wonder, emotions were running high. An onlooker who could not hold his feelings exclaimed within the crowd, “Hey, abomination!”
Cold chill ran down the spin of many as they watched late Mazi Okafor’s son suspended on a tree by a rope. His breath was snuffed out by the well looped noose around his neck. The question on everyone’s mind was, “Why would a promising youth of Umuofia take his life in such a despicable manner?” The answer to that question was hidden in the lifeless heart of Ikenna.
It was a pity that despite Ikenna’s level of education, he stooped too low to the death on a tree. Was he drugged or drunk to have forgotten how people who die that way a regarded?
Since he returned from the hospital a week ago and started acting strangely, his mother tried to no avail to get him to open up. As she hoped he would come around soon, she did not renege in the responsibility of cleaning him up each time he came home drunk. Even his girl friend did not know what exactly was troubling him. All she remembered was that there was something about the test that made him really mad. Yes, he did tell her that genotype would be a barrier to their getting married but what she could not understand was his refusing to see her or pick her calls after they left the hospital.
Prior to their going to the hospital, Ikenna had told Sylvia that he was AA. After the test he started singing a different tune. When he asked him about his HIV status, he simply said that he was OK. The girl tested negative but unbeknown to her, her fiancé was positive. Of course the duo started having sex the day they entered into a relationship but Sylvia often insisted he wears a condom.
The coward, Ikenna, took his life because he tested positive to HIV. He couldn’t contain the thought of the stigma that awaited him in the streets of his country. What would become of my widowed mother if she hears that her only son was going to die? What would Sylvia do if she hears that I have Obilina’gocha? Ikenna belonged to the bandwagon of people that believed that HIV leads to AIDS and AIDS leads to death. He was ignorant of the fact that one can live with HIV for as long as he was meant to live by his creator.
Although he graduated with a good result, he was reckless during his Youth Service year. He stupidly slept with a number of the Secondary school girls he was sent to a remote village to teach during his service year. He was sent to serve his Father land but, like some of his colleagues, he also serviced the girls in his class. However, unlike most of them, he had unprotected sex at some points.
Who would believe that those young girls were carriers of the dreaded virus?
As Ikenna sat in a bar trying to recall how he got infected, what baffled him the most was that Sylvia’s result turned out negative. Although he didn’t exactly disclose his status to her, the thought of suicide had been on the brink of his mind since the day he was counseled and told that he was living with the virus.
Ikenna was mean, cruel and heartless. Who could’ve believed that he went to the market, bought a rope and travelled to the village where he made a noose and hung himself on a tree? He didn’t even leave a suicide note.
His choice of taking his life in his village was to be closer to the grave of his fathers.


Try and read the piece I published a while ago on this forum. It's titled, IT's NOT THE BULLET IN A GUN THAT KILLS
For more of such juicy stories and poems, visit www.ordinaryjustice.com. I'm still working on the blog though
Twitter handle: @ordinaryjustice

I'm a writer but I stopped posting on this forum because my stories which are original (and most times a product of painstaking research) don't get the attention they deserve. I decided to share this piece with fellow Nairalanders because today is World AIDS Day. I hope you enjoy it. As for whether the Mods would move this to Homepage, especially when you consider the kind of topics that make HP these days, I don't really care.



[center][/center]It Is Not The Bullet In A Gun That Kills But The Hand That Pulls The Trigger

The village of Umuofia was thrown into confusion on an Eke market day. The business of that day was grounded by the tragedy of that morning. At the popular Eke market square, the awful sight which was beheld by many brought tears even to the eyes of men. Leaving their thoughts to wonder, emotions were running high. An onlooker who could not hold his feelings exclaimed within the crowd, “Hey, abomination! Arukwonwa!
Cold chill ran down the spin of many as they watched Mazi Okafor’s son suspended on a tree by a rope. His breath was snuffed out by the well looped noose around his neck. The question on everyone’s mind was, “Why would a promising youth of Umuofia take his life in such a despicable manner?”
The answer which was far-fetched from the onlookers was hidden in the lifeless heart of Ifemelu who had been a business man at the popular Onitsha main market. The young man who tested positive to HIV could not contain the thought of the stigma that awaits him in the streets of his country. The mere thought of the discrimination that he would face took him to the market where he bought a rope, came down to his village where he made a noose and hung himself on a tree. Ifemelu’s choice of committing suicide in his village was to be closer to the grave of his fathers.
The rising tide of discriminating against people living with HIV is fast turning into a nightmare. We have refused to understand the fact that it is not the virus in HIV that kills but our attitude towards people living with the virus. Yes, our attitude towards people affects their action. The ignorance of men and women in our society kills faster than the virus itself. We often ignore the fact that everyone is at the risk of contracting this virus, whereas those who are living with the virus are erroneously believed to have shaken hands with the devil.
In Nigeria, ministries are scattered to carter for the needs of people living with the virus as regard ARDs and counseling, but it beats my imagination to learn that many who are supposed to take advantage of these offers are nowhere to be found. They are often held bound in their ‘caves’ by the manacles of the fear of stigmatization and discrimination. They wrongly think that coming out to seek for these helps will expose them to the prying eyes of the ‘gossipy’ public. Some, like Ifemelu, go to the point of calling it a quit to this beautiful life by burning themselves at the stake.
According to Wikipedia, Nigeria ranks second in the prevalence of HIV, but if you ask me, I would say that that is not the worst case scenario. Stigma contributes, to a large extent, the sad stories told by many. An employer whose employee is suspected to be living with the virus gets an immediate sack letter. A woman whose husband is rumoured to have died from the virus is treated like a leper. It was quite pathetic hearing the story of an orphan who was driven into the harshness of the street all because stories had it that his parents died of AIDS. My dear, what do you think would become of you or your child when faced with rejection. “God forbid!” you would say. Well, a biblical injunction says it all__ ‘Do to others as you would have them do to you’.
As a result of the way people living with this virus are regarded, especially in this part of the world, a man that test positive to the virus would rather hang himself than wait to be greeted by the unfriendly hands of discrimination. But, do you know what? The man that hangs himself and the one that metes out discrimination to someone living with the virus are guilty. Yes, they are guilty of IGNORANCE! The truth is that people who are living with the virus are not barred from living a long and a healthy life. Ask the doctors.
My dear, it is sad to know that young people, especially on campuses, still indulge in risky behaviours. Many still parade the streets and our campuses without knowing their HIV status. Our stubborn legs have refused to conform to the good habit of going for routine HIV test. Little wonder that most of us get to find out that we are living with the virus when the head is already chopped off.
The cliché is, “If you’re not infected, you’re affected.” So, let’s join hands in making sure that Africa and indeed the world is rid of this nightmare called HIV/AIDS. Remain vigilant for it may be in your neighbourhood, especially a lot of youths are idle. I know you still remember what they say about Idleness. Above all, show love and care to people living with the virus. That’s the only way we can contribute to the international fight against this malady that sneaked into our neighbourhood at night.
Finally, remember that what is good for the goose is also good for the gander. So, show love, not just to loved ones; SHOW LOVE TO PEOPLE LIVING WITH HIV/AIDS.

Say No To HIV in Nigeria!
Say No To AIDS by knowing your HIV status!!
Say No To Risky Behaviours!!!

Let’s Make Nigeria Great!!!!

www.ordinaryjustice.com
Follow me on Twitter @Ordinaryjustice

[color=#990000][/color]Adebola, I for say make u drop ur number but u're just too beautiful for my liking.

On that Tuesday morning, my heart was beating like that of an athlete that had just finished running a Marathon. I tried to focus but the noise from other students who were standing beside me made it even more difficult. Just then my eyes rested on the face of a girl who was looking more like an angel. Naughty thoughts started flying into my head. I thought of what it would be like to have her as my girl friend. I even imagined what it would look like to plant my lips on hers. The mere thought of kissing her succulent lips which was dabbed in red lipstick filled me with goose pimple. What would those lips taste like? I thought.
I was jerked out of thought by a pudgy–looking man who, standing very close to me, shouted, “Good morning students! You’re all welcome to this centre. As you’ll be going in for your exam very soon, we urge you to play by the rule. Please be informed that you’re not required to go into the hall with anything, even your wristwatch…” The man went on to instruct us on what we should and shouldn’t do. It was then it dawned on me that I was in for a serious business_____ JAMB CBT Examination.
When the man was done, I lifted my eyes but couldn’t see that Seraphic figure I had seen earlier. I made a little effort at searching for her with my eyes but she was nowhere to be found. Then, I decided to channel my thought towards remembering all that I had read in the course of preparation for the Exam.
Standing on a queue as we waited to be searched and ushered into the hall, I started thinking about the character, Jimi, in The Last Days at Forcados High School “Is there anyone who’s really that smart?” Jimi was so much a perfect character that I disliked his person. He is so much unlike me who had had to write JAMB four times. Yes, I’m very good in sports but academically I will like to rate myself as average. I had always wanted to study Law but JAMB and PUTME won’t just let me be. They have been the two enemies that kept conspiring against me since I left Secondary school. Imagine, yours truly had written JAMB three times, and on that fatefully Tuesday morning I was on the queue for the fourth JAMB. To make matters worse, it was going to be CBT. Probably because JAMB had earlier said that starting from 2015 her exams would be computer based for all candidates, I did not joke with my preparing. Also I promised myself that I wasn’t just going to get admission; I would, in the near future be one of the best Lawyers this country would ever see.
I have often heard people say that one becomes a failure when he stops trying. In that vein, I think I’m already a success because I refused to give up all those years. And, I won’t stop trying until a University in this country (preferably the university of Nigeria, Nsukka) gives me admission to study law. Be that as it may, on the eve of the day I wrote JAMB this year, my dad came into my room and told me that this will be the last time he would have to give me money for JAMB exam. This was after mum had come to encourage me and wish me the best. She even said she was impressed with the way I had been preparing and that God’ll see me through this time around. My dad is so much unlike my mum. In fact, in dad’s exact words he said, “if you like go there and mess up again. All I know is that if you don’t get admission this year then get ready because I’ll be sending you to my friend in Onitsha where you’ll learn a trade.”
Having been threatened or should I say cautioned by my father, I went to my centre the next morning feeling very scared. And, in a bid to assuage my fears God sent me a very pretty girl who, unfortunately I never got to know her name even when fate gave her to me on a platter. Providence, they say, sometimes meets people when they least expect it.
The journey to my CBT center, of course did not end on the queue where I was bored listening to a pudgy-looking man. Guess what? When I entered the hall and had seated in front of my computer, the next person that showed up beside me was that petty damsel I had seen outside. A cold chill ran down my spine. My seat number was 76 while hers was 77. The moment she sat down something told me that Cupid had something in stock for me. However, I decided to pretend like I did not notice her until I was through with my exam. The things my dad told me the previous night about this being my last JAMB were echoing in my ears.
Within what seemed like an hour after we had started exam, that pretty girl tapped me on the shoulder and asked, almost in a whisper, if I knew the answers to a question in literature. She said she had not read the novel. I think it was a question from Chimamanda’s Purple Hibiscus. Of course I hastily attended to her and even more or less pleaded with her to call my attention any time she needs me. Tufia! Women have so much influence over us the male counterparts.
To cut long story short, although I’m unlike Jimi, the young man who portrayed as an academic giant in The Last Days At Forcados High School, I helped my pretty neigbour as much as I could. Incidentally, she wrote exactly my subject combination but I discovered that she’s not that good with Christian Religious knowledge. Honestly, I really thank God that I prepared thoroughly for that exam if not I would have embarrassed myself before that angelic figure.
While in the hall, I had already strategized on how to get her phone number the moment we finished. My heart was leaping with Joy as I concluded the exam. Probably because I wasn’t computer literate, that pretty girl who I suppose grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth submitted before me. Out of courtesy, she told me that she was leaving but then that pudgy-looking fellow standing very close to us as he tried to help sort out my computer issues. I smiled and told her I would meet her outside in a jiffy. Guess what happened after then?
Just in a space of a minute or two I rushed outside after submitting only to see that lovely girl entering a Murano Jeep. I beckoned on her, and when I got closer a woman who I suppose was her mum was sitting on the driver’s seat. She had this prying look in her eyes. At that moment I became confused and the next thing was that I heard myself asking the girl if she finished. She smiled radiantly and said yes. I didn’t know how to go about asking her for her number in front of her mother so, I simply wished her the best. I can’t even believe that my voice was quivering while I did that. In fact, it was as if my senses took leave of me when I sighted the mean-looking woman.
The woman behind the wheel did not utter a single word. The look in her eyes was threatening so I tried to avoid eye contact with her. It dawned on me a little late that I had not greeted her, but when I did she did not respond. Instead she drove off with her daughter waving and smiling at me. Honestly, I felt like running after the car.
Well, I have gotten over that incident. At least, if not for anything the JAMB score I received via a text the next morning was rewarding. All I’m asking God now is to give me the same grace he gave me when I was preparing for JAMB. I need the same grace to get myself ready for PUTME. Also, I’m hoping that that pretty damsel who sat beside me during JAMB would show up on my PUTME day. Funny enough I didn’t also get the opportunity of asking her the school she applied.
God Bless 2015 JAMB Candidate!!!

Written By Kaodilichukwu

Source: www.unn-edu.info

Thanks, bro. Write-ups like this should make FP. Sometimes I wonder d rationale Seun and his friends uses in deciding what they bring to FP.

Today's World's Poetry Day. It happen to coincide with the day one of my mentor, Chinua Achebe died. I remember consoling myself with a poem I hastily scripted in his memory when I heard of his death.
Since it's World's Poetry Day, let me just share the poem. Hopefully, it'll cast our mind back to this icon that once trod this earth.

NB: I had to re-touch the work to reflect time and situation.


IFE MELU

Continue resting in peace, Achebe.
You towering man of letters,
A trailblazer and a pathfinder,
An eagle atop an Iroko,
A colossus right from colonial era,
I salute your courage.

You played in the league of generals,
While we grapple with corruption as a nation,
You reminded an incorruptible judge.
Twice they penned you down for an endearing award
But you turned them down;
Saying you would not accept such honour
When the country you call home
Sits on a keg of gun powder.

Ife melu!
Your fall was like that of an Iroko,
Leaving the birds with nowhere to perch,
You, a strong man of the clan,
Left without a word of farewell,
National election is here again
But our incorruptible judge lie 6-feets under
Leaving us indecisive
With our PVCs tucked in our pockets.

Ife melu!
A giant in the midst of men
Took a bow from us two years ago,
A knight errant he was,
A man whose opinion matters even in the congratulation of fools.
Chinualumogu,
Your branches spread across bridges,
You fought in the battle of gladiators,
Where Things Fall Apart.
Ewoo, Ife melu!

Even the arrow of God is no longer at ease,
If not,
Why would a man of the people fall apart from the crowd,
At a time when war song is still raging,
Even Ojukwu, our warlord was taken.
Who shall we now brag about?
Onye nnekwu uche,
Onye edemede di egwu,
Mbaa, ebenebe gbulu!

You arrogant cold hands of death,
Dreaded arrow of departure,
Fear thee not that thou took even the great Achebe?
A rare gem and a colossus?
A man whose voice was heard even by the deaf
And the blind felt his presence afar off.

Though he has gone the way of all mortals
He still lives among us,
His voiceless voice echoes from the pages of Things Fall apart.
Ife melu!

The sky is no longer safe for the kite,
Neither is land safe for the rat,
The fire of death rages every now and then,
With impunity she stole even the great Albert Achebe,
The brave blood of Igbo land,
Onye anyi gi ama'tu.

Ife melu!
Ugo belu na elu orji has flown away,
Go forth go forth;
A giant in the sand,
Naba na ndokwa,
Onye edemede di egwu,
Farewell, farewell Chinualumogu Achebe!!!

Explosion rock the crowd of many,
Anarchy slowly slides through the states,
Do we fold our arms
And watch terror terrorize the poor and the mighty?
Should we bid our daughters goodbyes at dawn?
Only for them not to return at dusk?
Even our children,
Sucklings who know not their right from their left,
Are the targets of their bomb,
They have taken war
To the peaceful assemble of women and children.

I weep for this generation,
Men and women that pride in aiming and maiming.
Though they escape the gun of Justice,
The cry of the innocent shall not cease from their ears;
For their blood shall forever take vengeance.
Throughout their generation that live.
Yes, they succeed in Mubi, Bauchi and Gombe,
Even in Kano, Potiskum and Borno,
They make us cry as a nation,
Because they go after our defenseless brothers.
Know they not that they shall not escape the sword of the Executioner?

Like a noisy gong,
Their conscience (if they have any)
Shall not give the ears of their mind rest,
Though they elude the artillery of the nation,
The machinery of the ALMIGHTY shall strike,
Even in the forest, the dungeons and the creek where they hide,
The shelling that has no shielding will locate even Sambisa,
It shall come like the arrival of a cyclone,
And their cry for help shall not be heard by any,
It shall torture them like a thorn,
Until their cry forever shall not be heard.

The gallantry of the military I salute.
With agility,
They stood up to the cruelty of BH,
In BIU they fought relentlessly.
Until our common enemy is completely destroyed,
And absolute peace returned to the North East,
Then shall we rejoice
And with an outstretched arm
Welcome the Nigeria of our dream
Where Peace and Justice reign.

God Bless Nigeria!!!