Light Up Nigeria

And darkness covered the whole earth
Or so it seemed to my finite mind
I could see nothing and hear nothing
but the sound of crickets and frogs
What happened? Are the gods angry?
Is battle coming? Are we ready for a fight?

I slowly searched through my diary
Yes, the diary lodged in my mind
We kept the New year festival
and we observed the usual annual fast
What could we have done wrong, I pondered?
Shall I visit the shrine to find out
Or shall I call for a meeting of the elders
I searched the chronicles and recited them
all to my unlistening audience
trying to fathom the infinite darkness
Said my prayers, did they work?
Not soon enough if they did
I started to hear footsteps
but still I had no answers
The morning came slowly or so it seemed
At last I released a statement
"All women and children should be home before nightfall"
At least, I felt in control

Tis wasn't a solar eclipse
was the beginning of a degradation
of an institution and a nation
The lights out became more regular than not
At last we were back to candles and lanterns
Heaven to hell, or so it seemed
Will things get better, I dared to hope
But as I told this story on my dying bed
I gave a charge to those little kids
Change does not come until you dare
to challenge the status quo
At this point , I left a dying wish
#lightupnigeria

Re: A Nation’s Identity Crisis

Identity crisis- a disorientation concerning one's sense of self, values, and role in society, often of acute onset and related to a particular and significant event in one's life.

Stedman’s Medical Dictionary 28th Edition, Copyright© 2006_Lippincott Williams & Wilkins. All rights reserved.

I read Reuben Abati’s article, titled A Nation's Identity Crisis and I tried very hard to get the point. I cannot disrespect Flora Shaw, any less the name ‘Nigeria’ but I find it difficult to diagnose ‘identity crisis’ by the factors mentioned by Reuben. Based on Reuben’s diagnosis, the USSR had an identity crisis in 1991, hence the name Russia. The Ghanaian Cedi had an identity crisis hence its redenomination. So also, Persia, Rhodesia, Abyssia, East Pakistan, Gold Coast and Upper Volta. Now we must be living in a pathetic world, even worse now with the global recession. Probably the United Kingdom might become ‘Greater United Kingdom’ by the time the world economy picks up again. I can almost hear Reuben saying, ‘Identity Crisis’.

The article did make me think. Yes, I wondered if the out-going old generation has the discipline or the patience to write complete sentences or think through a subject to its logical end. And if they do, how much virtue is there in keeping this ‘good’ to themselves and to the grave. Where did the younger ones go wrong? Was it in trying to improve what they met or living the life that they met. Can I blame my five year old neighbor for not knowing what a pedestrian crossing is when there are none on the roads or would I rather blame the town planners for not enforcing some certain road signs? No, I would rather blame the painter for not sparing some excess white paint for the ‘Pedestrian Crossing’ noble cause. Think about it.

The creation, performance, significance, and even the definition of music vary according to culture and social context. Social environment is the culture that he or she was educated and/or lives in, and the people and institutions with whom the person interacts. With the world being a global village, the environment is infinitely extensive. For instance, if you consider the evolution of Mambo, salsa and any of the Cuban dances, you would realize how much external influence defined those dances today. This might be because I’m not the Chief Editor of Guardian newspapers, but I would rather dance away my frustrations than write them.

I can do anything

It's up to me, solely to me

to make sure things are right with me

As a man thinketh, so is he

the things he is are just a sea

Of all his mind has lodged within

It's been so long and if feels like yesterday
I could only be silent until today
Still remember the laughter and joy you spread
Just anytime and to everyone you met
I can't forget the prayers you prayed
On every thing and for everyone even unmet
It's still this hard to let you go
even at four years running I shed more tears
Still wish it didn't happen that way, that time and to you
I wish I had one more chance to tell you how much you blessed my life

From the lecture hall

Why aren't we allowed to make choices
Why can't we make decisions
Why most one be somewhere
not for pleasure or leisure
But to be assumed as present
For a course not well understood
Except that you will be tested
On what you're assumed to have learnt
Even though it might just be a transfer
Of words to brain and brain to paper
and it's called writing a test
It's driving me crazy and it should stop
Lest I begin to bend the rules
Afterall, they are meant to be bent
By not you, not me, but someone
Who doesn't see reason for the obsession
to be in class and sit in front
Pretending to concentrate even while not
He goes on and on and stops
a few minutes after he ought to have gone
He dictates his note
that barely makes sense
Makes waste of paper a norm
every Mon and Tue
Believes he's imparting knowledge
to who I wonder, probably the seats
Has a Master's he can't defend
or probably mine he came to lend
Thity-five minutes gone
Thirty-five more to go
Of more boredom and annoyance
Must be deceived that he has a skill or gift, I'ld say a curse
Of pretending to teach when he's not
Takes a break to explain
Or sorry, to repeat
what made no sense before
like repetition helps to build snese
Even a scrap car is made of scrap
My point, you know is simple
Sense is made of sense
Repeating nonsense gives repeated nonsense
Must feel he works for his pay
Not knowing he's a beneficiary of a charity
Or what would you call pay
for merely showing up in a classroom for the required duration
and holding a marker, writing on the board
Raising his voice so everyone knows he's around
And making it sound like he knows all
It would be too harsh to say he doesn't make sense
Afterall he probably makes sense to his little world
Consisting of his mouth and his ears
A congregation of three - big enough
to give approval to what he says
His personality- oh no
a far cry from what is called normal
Could be a special breed of humans; a mutation of genes maybe
Having resigned to his fate as a teacher
that teaches nothing and learns nothing
gets fascinated by everything strange
to his little world of three inhabitants
would probably still be here in ten years
Teaching a couple of desks and chairs
With a less than fortunate audience
Watching his mouth move and waiting
keenly for the clock hands to move

Thought I'd finished, but I haven't
Event still unfold in Economics class
I have just realised how interesting
it is to have some form of power
He particularly enjoys
displaying the extent of his power
though it's not beyond the walls of a classroom
Such limits, I'ld say are sad
I mean for all the shouting and squealing
the walls are still the limit
for him not me in case you're mistaken
He illustrates by
bolting the door so no one leaves
He has to enjoy these two hours you know
Power for two hours is better than none at all
By the way, he has no manners
Cannot afford a 'sorry' when needed
Thinks he can captivate audience by cajoling and claiming to have prayed 'some prayers' for us
Spends about twenty minutes telling us off
and wishing he were not our lecturer
Preaching, teaching and screaming cooperation
like that means looking straight into his eyes
Pretends not to be complexed
Gets worked up when we ignore him
Feels like both a Christian and moralist
like a principled branch of a tree

Charlie's Angels

The Charlie's Angels are not letting any opportunity slip.

Why on earth did you wake up this morning?

Hi All!!

Hopefully the election fever is over and all the racism talk
I've got lots of disapproval because of my last post
Is it because my racism is toward the wrong sect?
Or because the word in itself brings up lots of memoirs
In any case, I'll let sleeping dogs lie

It's a different subject for this afternoon
No hatred, no hard feelings

In summary, it's just one question?
Why did you get out of bed this morning?
To face the problems or laugh at life?
To moan and cry or to sing for joy?
To plan and pray or regret away?
To work to live or live to work?
Think about this