Theorbiters's Posts
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So, APC can open that their trashy mouth to say they wud form a parallel govt if they lose but this guy can't open his mouth to say SS youth wud shut down the economy. I see. APC=thugs |
Juliaann:Aunty, scream it out loud, let all those that don't like it G n D |
Well, this could be fun |
SaiBuharii:Sorry ooo, I mean no disrespect, but concerning that ur no. 5, I think u should get ur facts right. In the year 2003, 2007, and 2011, there was no where in the constitution where it required any aspirant to submit any result. After the elections in 2011, the constitution was reviewed and amended, so now it is stated clearly that every aspirant is required to submit their certificate, that was why sambo had to request for his. APC cannot argue this fact, but its supporters are .....well I don't knw. And for ur no. 6, I don't knw if u were alive wen he was in power then, we all knw he took the initial steps before his broda IBB completed the deal. So plsss, get ur facts right before you start saying stuffs u don't knw. Once again, no disrespect meant |
Juliaann:E be like say the way u take hate this guy pass my own shaaa ![]() |
hinohsend:Now I am glad barca lost. Shey now u knw how painful it is ![]() |
Barca fans, una sorry ooo, Real Madrid is still topping league |
For once, somebody spoke my mind |
Waiting For The Morning The sounds of laughter from children and women, the pleasantries among the young men and the hushed tones of the elderly, all alike, found a place in the atmosphere. The whole town was bustling with life and the once quiet village square had became a hub of activities. It is the last day of the year, and it was only necessary for all to converge at the square. One corner, the children played, running and screaming with abandon. To another corner, the youth gathered, like colonies, some talked while some just looked. To another corner, the women gathered, cooking and at the same time talking, and to another corner, the old men sat and drank. Looking around, oh, how this view could last for an eternity. But why were we here, I can not say, and why we were gathered, I must find. As I cut through the crowd, encountering the greetings of friends and family alike, my heart saw its desire. He sat alone on his bamboo chair, gently sipping his palm wine as he rocked his hips in a rhythmic manner to an unheard tone. His hairs were fully white and his face was like a squeezed cloth. I sat beside him and searched his face for attention. Finally, he looked at me. So I started. "Sir, to what reason do we owe this gathering?" Nodding, he said, "It is long believed that our ancestors discovered the secret of prosperity and peace. This secret helped them live peacefully, had good crops produce and live longer. This secret has been passed down from generations to generations and has now form a pillar on which this village is built on". "But sir, what is this secret?" "Unity my child, unity. It is believed, those who eat from the same pot are bounded by a bond that can not be broken. This is what makes you and I live freely. Now I understand clearly, the women cooking and the men drinking and no matter what the new year bring, our bond, would overcome all. The drums rolled and the young women rose to dance. The children jumped for joy, the youth moved while the elderly clapped. This night, we reaffirm our beliefs as we await the morning of the new year, but for now, I must join the dance too. |
whitemosquito:Ma'am, I have sent mine oooo, plss, let me knw if u have received it |
MhizVee:Lol, shey I no try now? At least I am trying now. Lolssss |
**still thinking**** |
Lol, I was among the "Fine Boiz" crew. We just dey form for ladies back then. |
Let's hope it's gonna be a different year, tho' we can't stop death from happening |
Sir and ma, when will this game end |
whitemosquito:Choi, this is what I call 'gobe'. Chai. It was my fault anyway, I did not add the new year and it excitement part. Oh well, if you say it is not possible, then I guess that is it. Thanks for your leniency. You are the boss. |
Two more people in Britain are being tested for Ebola today as the authorities hunt for hundreds of air passengers who may have had contact with a nurse who brought the disease to the UK. The woman, who had been treating patients stricken by the deadly disease in Sierra Leone, has been moved from Glasgow to London this morning for specialist treatment. Dressed in jogging bottoms, a tracksuit top and with her face covered, she was pictured for the first time walking unaided from an ambulance to her bed. Today questions are being asked about the Government's Ebola screening programme because the woman was vetted twice – in Sierra Leone and at Heathrow – without any symptoms being detected. She fell ill only hours after returning home from Africa having flown back to Scotland from Africa via Heathrow. Officials are particularly keen to trace 71 passengers who were also on board her British Airways flight from London to Glasgow on Sunday evening. This morning Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon said a second health worker is being tested for Ebola in Scotland after returning from West Africa, but said there was a 'low probability' they have the disease. Hours later she told doctors she feared she had Ebola and was taken to a Glasgow hospital by special ambulance, immediately isolated and diagnosed with the virus. Experts said early symptoms, including fever, headache, muscle pain and sore throat develop suddenly. A person is only infectious at the point at which they begin to show symptoms. This morning she was moved to the Royal Free Hospital in London after being loaded onto a military aircraft in a cocoon by medical staff in protective suits at Glasgow Airport. It also emerged this morning that another patient is being tested for Ebola after being admitted to the Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro last night and is being kept in isolation for 24 hours while they wait for the results. There are also fears for passengers and staff who had close contact with the nurse, who flew from Freetown to London via Morocco before reaching Scotland late on Sunday night. Officials are urgently trying to trace 71 people on her British Airways BA1478 flight from London to Glasgow. They will also be contacting passengers who were sitting near her on her other flights back to the UK via Casablanca – Royal Air Maroc flights AT596 and AT0800. At the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead, north London, the health worker will be admitted through a specially-assigned hospital entrance, before being taken to the high-level isolation unit – the only ward in the UK equipped to cope with Ebola. It is the same isolation unit that nursed William Pooley back to health after he contracted Ebola in August. Paul Cosford, medical director for Public Health England, told Sky News the woman was 'very brave' Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2890355/Health-worker-treated-Ebola-Glasgow-returning-Sierra-Leone.html |
Apart from hunger and ill health ravaging the camps of displaced Bakassi indigenes, TEMITAYO FAMUTIMI uncovers the story of a 12-year-old girl whose refugee father has pushed into servitude In the dusty village of Akwa Ikot Eyo Edem, Akpabuyo Local Government Area of Cross River State, Edet Okon sat down in front of St. Mark Primary School. Sitting cross-legged on the concrete floor on one of the blocks of classrooms he now calls his home, the 40-year-old father of three leaned forward to exchange pleasantries with this correspondent. Okon’s immediate family members and 963 other households had fled their ancestral homes in Efut Obot Ikot in the ceded Bakassi Peninsula in March 2013. In the beginning They escaped the alleged sacking of their villages and fishing posts by Cameroonian gendermanes in which some Bakassi indigenes reportedly lost their lives, while scores sustained varying degrees of life-threatening injuries. The onslaught followed the Federal Government’s handing over of the ceded Bakassi Peninsular to Cameroon in 2007, in compliance with a 2002 International Court of Justice judgment. After having travelled by boat and foot over several kilometers to safety, they took shelter in two of the three blocks of classrooms at St. Mark Primary School, and another classroom block at Community Secondary School in the same Akwa Ikot Eyo Edem community. Okon, like his fellow displaced Bakassi indigenes, left behind all his property and means of livelihood, majorly fishing nets and boats, as they ran for dear life. The Cross River State Government took responsibility for their feeding since they relocated from Bakassi. But since September 2014, relief materials, including food stuffs, have not been provided for the hundreds of displaced indigenes camped in the two schools. The camps had literally been turned into a melting pot for hungry and largely sick refugees, many of who now live on handouts from churches and local farmers in the community. His daughter now a collateral Okon, who joined Punch on a tour of the overcrowded refugee camps, appeared less bothered about the life of squalor they now lead. The fisherman lost his first daughter, Blessing, to the cold hands of death in September 2013, after battling with blood cancer for five months. But Okon’s agony did not end with Blessing’s death. Indeed, he now lives in the pool of the anguish of a man who has to practically sell his child into slavery. To raise funds for the series of medical tests, drugs, feeding and hospital bills incurred by Blessing, he opted to secure loans from someone to save her dying daughter. With no property to guarantee the loan, Okon gave up his second daughter, Mary, as collateral to secure the sum of N600, 000 given to him in installments. Punch correspondent gathered that the creditor is a civil servant based in Calabar. “I was desperate to save Blessing from dying. Her situation had become critical at that time. That was the only thing I could do to salvage the situation. I am heartbroken,” Okon said, as his voice faded off, breaking down in tears. As tears rolled down his cheeks, he recalled the day he ‘sold’ her daughter into servitude. “I don’t know what came over me. It was sheer desperation I gave out my daughter so that the man would accept to give us the money,” Okon added, fighting back regrets of what many are likely to regard as condemnable. Our correspondent reached out to the intermediary, Daniel Ufot. He helped Okon to negotiate the N600, 000 loan from the creditor. On getting to the residence of the 59-year-old Ufot, who lives some five kilometres away from the camp, our correspondent found Mary in his residence. Ufot explained that some plain-cloth security operatives keeping watch on the camp had asked him to bring Mary from Calabar to meet with his father who he had not seen in 19 months. “I do not know Okon from Adam. But since I’m an expert in money lending, I offered to help him after having learnt of his predicament on how he had been battling to save the life of his daughter. “But unfortunately, he could not provide any form of collateral to secure the loan. But the creditor, in his magnanimity, agreed to have her daughter as collateral since she was the only valuable ‘thing’ he could offer,” Ufot said. In a chat with this correspondent, Mary, who was a junior secondary school 2 pupil before they left Bakassi in March, 2013, has since dropped out of school following their displacement from the oil rich peninsular. She shared horrible tales of inhuman treatment in the hands of her father’s creditor. Every morning, Mary hawks bottle water on the streets of Calabar, where, incidentally, Mary Slessor stopped the killing of twins. Observers may also spot the irony in the name of the legendary missionary and the enslaved Mary Okon. She added that on any day she failed to exhaust the sales of her wares, her new guardians descended heavily on her, beating her mercilessly in the process. “The man my father is owing has three female children and some other relatives are also putting up with us in the house. They normally give me a revenue target of N1, 000 daily. “And sometimes when the market is bad and I don’t finish selling the water, they beat me up. They treat me very badly. I eat only once in a day and that is in the morning. “I wash all their clothes, including the ladies’ pants, and do other house chores, too. And if I hesitate on washing their pants, they get infuriated and throw objects at me at will. I will not feel happy if I go back there,” she narrated. Yet, Ufot insisted that he only brought Mary to meet with his father as a respite since he had not set his eyes on her for about 19 months. “There are no signs that they would be repaying the loan. I only obeyed the instruction of the security men. She will be on her way back to the creditor’s place in Calabar,” Ufot said. When contacted, the Refugee Camp Leader, Etim Ene, confirmed to our correspondent on the telephone on Monday that Mary has indeed returned to the creditor in Calabar. Ene said, “Mary has been taken to the creditor’s house in Calabar South. He was taken away by the guarantor, on December 2.” Efforts by our correspondent to trace the address of the creditor, whose name is given as Asuquo Etim, said to be residing on Atimbo Road, Calabar South Local Government Area, was abortive. The creditor is said to be an employee of the Cross River State Urban Development Agency. Ufot had earlier refused to allow Mary to travel with our correspondent to her master’s residence for fear of the unknown. Mary’s mother was away in the farm during a visit by The Punch . http://www.celebsnest.com/2014/12/refugee-father-uses-daughter-as.html |
Hmmm, something exciting about the new year and its goodies, african culture and its beliefs, chai. This is taking a different twist and one must do it in 400 words. Daris work ooo. So I must retract my earlier piece and produce another, Chai. |
swifayo: REB3L:Okay, to the best of my knowledge, this is what she is saying; Narrate an event that depicts traditional culture ( in other words, talk about a village culture. Shey you have watched village films before? Ehen, something like that). It could be real or imagined, narrate the superstitious beliefs of ur village. For example, it could be the ceremony that takes place when a male child passes from boyhood to manhood. Talk about the sacrifices done, what it signifies among the elders. Or you could narrate a traditional wedding, giving detailed description of the account. What it means to the man, and lady alike. Or you could narrate what ceremony is done when a male child is born to a family. It must be a village setting and must have a good storyline. Your description must be un-verse and not verse ( what I meant was that ur description must be in a prose and not a peom). First you must knw the difference between the two and once that is done then the work become easier. It's like trying to woo a lady, only that this time your normal poem lines becomes more like a sentence, saying how you feeling and making your readers feel the same way you do. All these you must do in 400 words, yea, 400 words. Remember, it must be a village ish stuff. Whether it is real or crazy, just write. Aunty whitemosquito, I don't knw if I spoke your mind or heart. I stand corrected. At this point, like Larrysun would say, Think, Write, Create. Let your mind create and your pen do the work. Happy Writing. |
whitemosquito:Aunty whitemosquito, I just want to know if u got my work in ur mail. Plssss say yes, I take God beg u. |
The boss himself has done it again. |
Divepen:Boss, I dey follow ur footstep ni o. |
Divepen:Haaa, the boss himself, I remain humble o. |
The hut stood like a castle in the centre of the compound as she laid inside. Her cries rent the air as she prepared to bring forth another life into this world. She was gradually loosing all spring of life and every form of vivacity. His mood was that of despair and confusion as he paced randomly like a broken compass, spinning haphazardly in search of a lost purpose. His face etched with anxiety and fear, anyone looking him would conclude he was hanging on a thin thread of sanity. He waited. He heard footsteps, randomly, feminine and with each seconds they increased. "Ah, finally they have come, they have come", he said as if trying to call his sanity from wherever it wander. There they stood, 'the angels of life' as he would say, with the chief mid-wife flanked with her co-angels on her side "Where is she?" the chief angel asked, "and please make sure everything is in order." "Inside", he almost shouted, making silence run into hiding. As the angels made way into the hut, he caught the chief angel by her wrapper, 'she's my world and she's with my joy. Make sure they are safe'. With grace and tenderness in her speech she spoke, 'You must be a man now. Don't let the gods know you are weak if not they would tamper with your happiness. I will do what I can do, only the gods can give safety, I must go now'. She was gone, just like the wind The sun was sinking slowly like a stone and the wind blew against his bare chest. He paced frantically like an insulted warrior, only now his enemy was the fear. He could hear voices, then a cry, and then the voices again. It was like a rhythmic flow of beat playing in his head, the gods must be playing with his sanity. Finally he heard the cry. The sound of his joy brought into the realms of mortal men, oh finally, the gods must have pitied him. His heart-beats slowed and serenity returned. A smile formed on his face and with vivacity he was about to make way into the castle but was stopped by a bitter reality, 'Quickly, she is dying'. He heard a voice say. Oh, how fast we forget the blow that threatens to cripple us, the gods must be at it again. Once again, fear beckoned on his troubled mind as terror reeled all over his temple. A minute turn to two and three and then, time ceased. The angels came out. The chief angel, holding his joy in her hands walked him to a corner and searched his eyes for his heart. Silence prevailed for a moment and the sound of heart-beats became louder. Finally she spoke, 'he has his mother eyes in him'. He couldn't stand it anymore, 'where is she?" He demanded. 'You must be a man now and prove the gods wrong', she said as she gave him the baby. 'So sorry I could help, but your world is fallen, take care of your joy'. ****************************************************** The wind blew, clearing a path for an invisible visitor. 'But how do you know this woman?" I asked, turning back to search his face for an answer. Sitting on his bamboo chair, he rocked his hips and nodded his head to an unheard music. After a moment, he looked at me, and with every strength he had he said, "You are my Joy but my world is gone". |
whitemosquito:Lolsss. Okay, lemme see wat I can come up with |
Hi, nice concept miss whitemosquito. Kinda new here tho' and I don't write or I am still learning but I wud give this a try, in fact I have written it down already but the ish is the 400 words rule. Is there a way you can extend that rule, not just because of myself but at least to give the writers the freedom to use the most approving word they deem fit to paint that mental image they want to pass across. I also believe it would allow the writers have fun and pass that fun across. I know you wanna curtail the length of what is written but I appeal to your humble sense of logic to please look at my point. I will totally stand by your decision no matter the outcome. My humble self. And plsssss, dnt laff at my story, I haven't done this before shaa |
Yes I can. At least I am in love with Jesus and he is my partner |
VickyyB:VickyyBlazet, because u fine shey Abeg, let them have fun this hot afternoon |
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,if GEJ no win this election make I bend
