Between Wednesday and Friday, I confirmed through reports, the death of some NYSC corp members. All had perished on the road. One Okon who had graduated from Federal Polytechnic Oko, had been on his way back from his place of primary assignment.

Most deaths are painful…some, even though they might not be directly related to you, are even more painful than the deaths of those you might have known. The deaths of corp members all over the country is one of such. I used to think of serving Nigerian in distant lands was a thing of great pride until all these deaths became something our country is steadily growing immune to.

Over the past months, many corp members perished at the hands of the boko haram terrorists. That was when it made the news. If reports of other corp members should be believed (which should), many are still dying and their deaths are for the most parts very terrible deaths. Accidents claim some, their place of primary assignments claim others. The most current online article I could even find on the deaths of corp members was in April.

My disillusion at formal education doesn’t end at the fact that it doesn’t prepare students for the real world and then, in Nigeria, you still put in a year…where death is very possible. There’s no dignity for martyrs in our country, how much less “ordinary corp members?”

I believe that, given the state of our country and its economy, for every registered student, the federal government should begin to set aside the total of every money that corp members would receive throughout the service year and after graduation, the student should be “sent forth” with it. How is this not better when many corp members can’t even afford their feeding, transportation, accommodation and general welfare bills in their places of primary assignments? I know that some people in “high places” might kick against this but one thing is clear, their kids aren’t the ones dying and to be honest, the money they loot from this nation can easily do this.  Many argue that nothing works in this country. I don’t agree. If Nigerians could put aside ethnic, societal and religious differences to protest the fuel hike earlier this year then, it is possible with enough push.

Please, remember our corp members. Let us continue to pray for them while we await liberty from this shackle of a service year which seems to have clearly lost its purpose.

U.S., Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approved Truvada on July 16, 2012. The drug has proved to have reduced the risk of catching new HIV infection.

The trademark pill, Truvada, is a fixed dose combination of two antiretroviral drugs namely Tenofovir/emtricitabine by Gilead Sciences Inc, United States. The FDA approved the drug in 2004 for the treatment of HIV patients. However; recently the clinical trials confirmed that the drug protects the healthy people from acquiring new infection, if taken prior and after the exposure.

In 2010, a study on homosexuals, men who have sex with men, showed that infection risk dropped to 42 percent with the use of Truvada. Another study in 2011, confirmed that the drug reduced the incidence of the infection by 75 percent in heterosexual couples having one partner positive for HIV. However the participants of the study used regular condoms in addition to the drug.

Till today, more than 30 million people across the globe have died of AIDS and its related diseases. In 2010, 2.7 million new cases of the HIV were reported. Another 1.8 million people died of AIDS and its complications. Approximately, 34 million people still live with HIV positive status around the world. The incidence is rising steadily across the world. The approval of Truvada creates new hopes in the reduction of HIV incidence.

Truvada has been recommended for uninfected, healthy people who are at risk of acquiring HIV.  The drug benefits those who practice IV drug use or un-safe sexual practices e.g., sex workers or those with HIV positive partners.

Truvada can cost up to $14000 a year in the United States. It is still not sure if all the insurance companies will cover up the cost. Moreover, the drug is not available all over the world. The drug usage also includes a regular three month testing and education on when and how to use it.

Truvada is the approved wonder drug but hear this, it condom use alongside its use, cannot be compromised! Safe sexual practice-with condom, is still the safest bet…plus Truvada. Sorry, Nigeria and Africa, it is not yet an over the counter drug. It might take years even but, it is good to know that, the war against HIV would be won in the near future.

Source: The News Tribe.

I was still in the university in 2007 when I watched with the rest of the world, the Virgina tech massacre…at least, the griefs and confusions all around. I think, that experience alone remains for me, the most agonizing thing I ever saw…until, James Holmes decided I needed a refresh. 32 lives were lost at Virginia tech, at Colorado 12 but, I am not among those who think of human lives in terms of “statistics”.

I remember talking about this on the 3rd of June, 2012 when the Nigerian Dana aeroplane crashed and it was all the rage, very nearly obliterating the tragedy of the many lives lost on that same day to the senseless spates of bombings across Nigeria. Now, back to James Holmes and what makes his case, not so curious.

First, where do I start? The fact that America which I grew up idealizing, has become so “loose” that its a place where anything/everything goes. I wanted to be American as a kid. I cried/fasted and prayed to go to America…I don’t do so no more and my disillusionment did not start in one day (but, I digress). A friend told me that, it is possible that Holmes was just another bored fellow who wanted a lot of attention. It seems to be only in America that a Holmes can-get bored with life, premeditate the murders of so many people, carry it out, the whole people (including the grieving) would spend so much money between paying his lawyers and his trial, watch him yammer stuffs about insanity, degradation in the society (pun intended and achieved, I hope), listen to lawyers and their experts talk about how he is a nutcase, and then, let him go either to jail or confine him to a hospital and then…allow him conjugal visits (ah, if he isn’t gay, he could get married in prison too) through which he could father four children.

You see, the life of the American mass murderer seems that glamourous and maybe…just maybe it really is. I would want women writing me plenty of love notes, authors fighting over exclusive rights to my biography and professors using my case for long and extensive courses and researches. I would love that very much and I just might want to trade my very boring life for all that publicity which would even bring Obama out of white house…if I were a Holmes. 

Second, see guns? I really have nothing against them… I just have a problem with the fact that a single individual could have acquired 6000 ammunitions, bomb making devices, full batman gear, long range missiles and not raise a red flag on any security radar. I hope to learn how to shoot guns and even teach that to my children someday but, I must have first obtained permits, gone through tests akin to a driving school, being certified stable by a psychiatrist and…must be seen to very much believe and to some extent at least, ‘live’ both the National anthem and the pledge. For the sanctity of all human life, I do not see these as any kind of punishment…but then, am not an American.

If anything/everything can go in any society, a free-fall is just around the corner. Yes, I want to live in a free society but, freedom is like the pillars of any home, they must have a foundation…a base. There would always be mass murderers in America. This is a terrible thing for me to say…maybe. But, Holmes has already become a mentor to someone…or some other bored closet psychopaths and before long, they…get a book deal.

The senseless bombings in Nigeria might even end someday but, I see no end to America’s mass murders. Brace up for this America. Africa is my Africa…America is yours but, our pains meet because, this is a terrible tragedy and should never have happened. There is no difference between the work of an assassin and a mass murderer. Both kill people who they do not know. Maybe that’s what make it easier for them.

But,

Are there Holmes’ in Iran? Israel? Turkey? China…even Nigeria? Yes, I believe so. But, would they even have the benefit of a court trial and a celebrity status? A loud no. I believe that, their power very much lies in their publicity. They wanted our attention…we give them a chance to get it…always.

Only death could drown the pain.

Death, the ultimate helper

Matching on to relieve

Matching on to deliver.

No wonder am intrigued by death

No wonder am not afraid.

When you can’t see the road

When you die more than you live

Then be dead all you can

For death is freedom come at last.

“I have a personal stake in the success of my most dedicated…most swaggalicious producer yet!” Quote me on this, whenever! The name is Fuja but, pronounced “Phujja”.

Bomb Shelter is his label and really, I must say that they snagged one of Naija music’s finest underdogs. I invite you today, into the world of “Phujja”. This is not a plea. This is not a test run. This is for you to witness a great hatch.

“Wete Tinz” is the single he would be dropping by the 28th of July. Would keep y’all posted on that.

Welcome…to “Phujja!“.

“Phujja” called Fuja was born in his homeland-Lagos. First of four kids, but, his adventure in the music world did not begin today…and would not end today. Started when he was only 8; with classical music. He used to be a choir boy, playing both the clarinet and the keyboard in the church orchestra.

Professionally, he told me that he started writing music lines in 2002 and started producing music in 2004. Working alongside producers like Dan-jiggy was only the beginning of his dream’s manifestation.

Now, as far as am concerned, the beauty of “Phujja’s” music lies in the fact that, he is first a poet and a philosopher before a musician and yes, this is refreshingly satisfying as, for the most part, we hear a kind of music that transports you back in time and  forward into space. Maybe that happens when, Fela Kuti and Wole Soyinka are your biggest role models, like they are his.  His music and tunes are a combination of pentatonic scales on contemporary beats, heavily influenced by African folk melodies, the rest of the world and of course, techno.

For his time under ID Cabasa and what he thinks of 9ice, let’s get into my interview...

Me: Nice doing this interview with you, Phujja

Phujja: (laughs self consciously) Yeah, nice. Thanks.  

Me: Tell me about your song- “Wete Tinz”. That’s the one I heard very recentlyand which is really mind blowing. It is already all over the place…

Phujja: Yes, It is just a single off my upcoming album. The first time I performed on the stage at Lagos, I was really blown away by the positive reaction of the crowd. It was as though they had known me and the song forever. I was so happy about that. Even my sister and husband were in the crowd and I was very happy about it.

Me: I can imagine. The song is really nice

Phujja: I thank God. Really, people have responded really well to it. So many blogs are carrying it now. Many people are spreading it.

Me: That is very good for you and very encouraging

Phujja: Yes, it is.

Me: You talked about sister, how has your family reacted towards your dream as a musician?

Phujja: Honestly, in the beginning, it wasn’t pleasant. My mother and I were estranged for a long time because I chose music. Now though, seeing how far I have come and how far I am willing to go, our relationship has improved. My family respects my dream now.

Me: Good to know. Tell me though, who is the girl…in your life?

Phujja: (Nervous laugh) Next question

Me: What? You don’t want to say?

Phujja: Next question. Next question…

Me: Okay then. One thing nags me about you now, You are still my friend today, what about tomorrow? How much change should “we” be ready for?  

Phujja: Nahhh… I am still going to be me. I will always be myself. Yes, I want to go higher and I want to do more but, I can’t forget where I am coming from. I can’t forget my friends…no, that isn’t me.

Me: I like the sound of that, if it’s possible.

Phujja: Trust me. it is.

Me: You sound a lot like 9ice…

Phujja: (Quickly interrupting)… I don’t sound at all like 9ice. We don’t do the same kind of music. The only relationship I see between my music and that of 9ice is the vehicle we use…the Yoruba language which I sometimes use. I don’t sound anything like 9ice. My music is poetic because, I am first a poet and a philosopher before a musician which is why my music takes anyone back to home…to the roots. There’s a deep wealth of meanings in my music.

Me: That really is true. I have heard some of them and I agree. Tell me this though, you’re a producer…a wonderful one at that, are you the one producing your songs?

Phujja: Ummm….yes and no. I struggle with the fact that someone other producers would help out. No man is an island and so, I cannot do it all alone. I have to trust that when my music would be produced by someone else, he or they would do a great job. Most of my music though, are still produced by me.

Me: Please continue. You make great music.

Phujja: I was once ID Cabasa’s boy. I followed him around and I learnt from him. This helped me.

Me: Wow. You have really being around.

Phujja: Yes, I try.

Me: Okay, where do you see yourself in say, five years from now?

Phujja: That really is a nice one. I see myself bigger than ever. All over Africa and the world, that is where I see myself in five years.

Me: Big dream. I wish you all the very best then

Phujja: Yes, thank you

Me: And thank you too for taking the time to talk to me.

Phujja: Any time. Thank you.

Thank you all for reading. Download “Wete Tinz” here: http://hu.lk/x5tbq5cejg1s

In my SS1, my then English teacher said, “only cowards commit suicide”. I never forgot that statement but, throughout the one year I struggle with depression and attempted to take my own life three times, I sure stretched the meaning of “coward”. Times are difficult, life is time…life can be difficult. But, there’s hope. Hold on and hold out please.

Today, my personal friend and blogger, talks about suicide in this piece.

It is estimated that one person commits suicide every four seconds. In Nigeria, suicide used to be a very rare occurrence. Not any more though. It is becoming as popular as murder. I am not surprised that Hillary talks about this today.

Read and share too. Someone out there needs to know:

The despicable rise in the rate of suicide among youths in Nigeria; a practise alien to us, has become almost fashionable, is alarming. Youths who are filled with life and have many things to look forward to, go ahead and take their own lives! Not only is it a sin, it is also a crime to humanity and it’s a sign of cowardice.

What problem in this world do you think is peculiar to you alone? NONE! No matter how difficult your situation is, I can assure you that there is someone worse off. Suicide is not an option.

Why bring so much pain, anger, shame and burden on the people you leave behind; your parents, siblings, friends and spouses! If you’re in a tight situation and your only thought is suicide, then you’re being a F**KING coward. Many people have gone through that sh*t you’re going through and are still living, maybe not a happy life, but as long as you draw breath and crave happiness, it will come to you,(happiness). What would make you want to take your own life? I pray I never find out or be in a situation where I would want to. We are human and fragile, but we have being known to come out of adversities stronger. Suicide is not an option!

Think of how your mother’s heart will break a million ways, seeing you, a child she nursed and breast fed, hanging from a rope, lying in the pool of your own blood, lying lifeless, your dreams and hers gone with the wind. Think of the tears that will be shed, think of the stigma you leave. Suicide is not an option!

If you’re gay, so is Elton John.  If you’re poor, so are majority of Nigerians.  If you flunked an exam, Bill gates was a drop-out.  School isn’t for everyone.  You got AIDS, well there’s medication and someday, a cure would come! You’re a failure, well so am I, but you don’t see me hanging from a tree. All I am saying is suicide is not an option!

If you ever feel like taking your life, talk to someone, call me, call anybody. Suicide ain’t an option. Not only is suicide a tasteless way to go, it’s a lot of punishment to put yourself through! It’s just not pretty, scattered brain matter, tongue out, pee stained trousers, crap in your pant! Suicide isn’t an option.

Really, strong one from my friend. I hope this speaks to someone out there today. Read, comment and share. Hillary blogs at http://aryora.wordpress.com

After my “Illuminati” post yesterday http://wp.me/p1WOI5-iQ , I got quite an earful. A lot of perceptive, criticisms and even jabs.

I was yet to see the one who answered all questions raised. They include:

Can you prove beyond doubt atht all those you call members are members?

Have they ever endangered you or the society in anyway, to the best of your knowledge, say, Bill Gates…with his foundation?

have they ever invited you to join them?

Beyond your paranoia, what do you know/have?

Today though, I come to share something else-The Rapture. I am not here to scare you…

I was fourteen and was on my first holiday outside my family. Was staying with my relatives, a wonderful Christian family. I saw the Rapture…on a warm night, after a very special church night vigil.

The Rapture had already taken place and I was still on earth. All around me were men and women being bound and shackled and forced to bear a mark and serve some god which I couldn’t see. There was cruelty and so much wailing.

As I walked, I saw two men beseeching God: Blood of Jesus cover us and save us! Blood of Jesus! Blood of Jesus cover us and save us!

Immediately, a calabash dropped out of heaven, held by a very long rope. The content(blood)  poured all over the men as a voice thundered: It is now too late to plead the blood.

I walked on but noticed that a man clothed in white was walking beside me (I never saw his face throughout this experience).

He pointed at the other side and asked me to to go with him over there. I looked and saw a man I knew well but he looked…different, odd. He had palm-frond on his mouth (in Igboland, someone carrying the “omu” on his mouth never talks).

The man in white dragged me over there and the man whom I knew came to push us off but, we quickly looked into the well. There was a small carved god, almost at the mouth of the well and also, a bevy of very beautiful women (there colour, I withold so as not to offend). The very baffling thing about the women: they were all naked.

The man told me that soon, these women would be unleashed upon believers all over the world. They were almost out but, behind the carved god.

I now wanted to ditch my companion but, a group of men broke off from the group they were torturing and approached me. They asked me to come with the seeing there was no mark on me. I looked for a way out and ahead of me, was the house I was staying in.

As I looked, I noticed that someone had poured water on the floor. I told them: There’s a child in there and someone has poured water. My aunty has called me to mop it.

They asked if that was true: I said, yes…and ran off.

The man in white caught up with me and told me I had lied: Fight lies. ( He was correct. At this time in my life, I was scared of everything and everyone and lying was my escapist tool).

Instead of walking into the house, we walked into a wrestling ring (I was not yet a wrestling fan). The man said he was going to show me a part of heaven. He Looked up to heaven with his hand stretched out (I felt…never saw his face), after a while he said: It is already dawn and that he couldn’t show me.

I said he must. I remembered the story of Jacob and how he wrestled with God and so, I  fell to my knees and grabbed his leg. He again looked up to heaven and stretched out his hand. Again, he told me, it was already late but promised that he would come again to show me. I would realize my folly too late. Using the leg I wasn’t holding unto, he kicked me off.

As I fell, I opened my eyes and the sharp rays of the moring sun blinded me.

This was my experience which I wrote down and have only told a handful of people since then. Was it just a dream or, did I really see what the world after the rapture would be like…in part?

I do not presume to know it all…or better. I am not perfect. I fall and I rise. God helps me. This I know though, beyond all my liberal views about some aspects of life, my relationship with Christ is the greatest and primary and beyond my desire to be the greatest of all I aspire to, my greatest desire, is the life that is to come with Christ…after the Rapture.

I enjoin you to take a hold of Christ’s outstretched hand even today.

Most of us have heard a lot about the illuminati. Matter of fact, I am aware that, there’s a whole DVD stamped “666″ circulating Nigeria, which tells people how all the famous singers, pastors, presidents and other elite men and women around the world, who are members of this group…illuminati.

I decided to do a research, not just because am Beyonce’s biggest fan, but because, someone whom I thought should know better, told me that, he was no longer a fan of George Bush…cos, he has heard the man’s a “33…illuminati (whatever that means, right?)” Also, he committed what I would call the biggest offence anyone has yet made to my ears this year, when he mentioned Billy Graham and the illuminati in the same sentence. Billy Graham? That’s just stupid…or was it? It was time to research the illuminati.

Historically the name refers to the Bavarian Illuminati, an enlightment-era secret society founded on May 1, 1776. In more modern contexts the name refers to a purported conspiratorial organization which is alleged to mastermind events and control world affairs through governments and corporations to establish a New world order. In this context the Illuminati are usually represented as a modern version or continuation of the Bavarian Illuminati.

Not much is known about this group to most …it’s a secret order anyway. My people say that what a person doesn’t know is a senior to the person and as far as I can tell, many people just want to know more about a group that otherwise, doesn’t wish to be that known.

But,

The Illuminati was a secret society in Bavaria in the late 18th century. They had a political agenda that included republicanism and abolition of monarchies, which they tried to institute by means of subterfuge, secrecy, and conspiracy, including the infiltration of other organizations. They fancied themselves to be “enlightened” but they had little success and were destroyed within fifteen years of their origin (Pipes 1997).

Actually, according to Illuminati-expert Agethen, the order  used Jesuit methods(The Society of Jesus  is a Christian male religious order that follows the teachings of theRoman Catholic Church. The members are calledJesuits and are also known colloquially as “God’s Marines”and as “The Company” these being references members’ willingness to accept orders anywhere in the world and live in extreme conditions) of investigating the conscience in order to emancipate the individual from the intellectual and spiritual domination of the church; they also used a ranking system and mystical fuss, similar to the enthusiastic irrationality of the Rosicrucians, to further the success of Enlightenment and rationality. They subjected their members to an utterly totalitarian monitoring and psychological techniques in order to ultimately free mankind of the despotism of princes and kings.

Many of theories propose that world events are being controlled and manipulated by a secret society calling itself the Illuminati.

In the paranoid mind (paranoid being the operative word), the Illuminati succeeded in their goals, and have now infiltrated every government and every aspect of society. They are responsible for every evil and every unjust act that ever occurs anywhere; the fact that absolutely no evidence of their existence can be found only serves to make them stronger and more frightening. They are the demon in the closet, and will probably never disappear from the paranoid fantasy world of right-wing conspiracy theorists.
–New England Skeptical Society

My studies about the illuminati is as vast as I could get given the fact that I still know not as much…except to say this: people need not bother with people who have in no way that they can see/feel, negatively affected their lives in anyway. How people are comfortable with “knowing” and then “calling” people names because they belong to this group is beyond me.

Has Beyonce, Bill Gates, Billy Graham, Queen Elizabeth, Jay-Z, Lady Gaga…ever invited you to join them for these meetings? Invited you to join the group? What again is your beef? Not one person I have heard in all these illuminati name callings have even in anyway, endangered the society, to the best of my knowledge.

From time immemorial, people have associated with groups acceptable to them. Why this ruckus then? Even if it were true? What, if I may ask, would such knowledge help you with? Some people frown at your beliefs just as much as you frown at other people’s own?

I am not here to support the illuminati…I am just here to say that, we all should grow above pettiness. You can’t prove a thing…not your 666 members, not the illuminati memberships…before, you jump up to hit the roof…or, can you?

Billy Graham remains one of the most powerful Christian evangelists the world has ever known. Why people feel comfortable running people’s names down, baffles me. The message of that man won over many souls to God, why would even people who call themselves Christians talk so carelessly? Is that the teaching of Christ? Are you not told to encourage anyone who preaches the name of Christ.

Bill Gates, the man whose foundation is saving millions of lives across the world? You gotta be kidding me.

Beyonce, Gaga, Jay-Z, Snopp Dogg….whatever, get a life for crying out loud.

I remain a fan of every great mind out there. I might not agree with them all but, you had better have something beyond the illuminati to even get me to listen to you when talking about them…yes, beyond reasonable doubt.

Welcome to July!

I don’t do prep talks a lot. I love to let people make their own decisions and live by the consequences of the decisions. A little sermonizing though…never killed nobody, at least, not to the best of my knowledge. Today, am going to give you one.

We are now in the second half of the year and am sure that am not the only one who feels incomplete and unaccomplished (by my own yardsticks). Matter of fact, I feel like am living other people’s dreams. I feel like I give my all for others and there isn’t anyone who ever cares to do even his/her bit for me.

Two weeks ago, I was so negative about all that was happening around me that I felt like I have been an idiot for even having a dream. At a point though, I realized I was being ungrateful. There is a journey that must take “forty years” for us to appreciate how we got there and where we are and on the other hand, there is a journey that could only take “forty days” and we’d have whatever it is we seek. Everything happens for a reason. If our character isn’t being built then, our confidence could be getting a boost. If it isn’t either, then, check the skills in you…you’re picking more life-sustaining skills that would come in handy along a later path.

What do we do when we get to that point where we are stuck between backing down and… giving up? I say, we move forward! Our attitude at this point…is everything. We cannot afford to go with either option. Backing down means, never knowing what our reward would have being and given up means that all our past efforts are in vain. None is a pleasant bargain.

The line between(which I also call the middle ground) is very important for anyone.

I was making a bead necklace yesterday and afterwards, while I was showing it off to my sister, it just cut without warning. I began to laugh and my sister joined me. After a while, she told me that she was surprised I didn’t get angry. I told her that I would have but, in the split second that I had to make a decision, I chose to laugh…to be happy. I believe that should be our quickest reflexive response. Choosing a positive attitude despite all the negativity around us.

I wouldn’t recognise myself if I say that I always get it right immediately or after the first misstep. I take lots of baby steps but once my feet gets strong on the ground, I never back down. I never back out.

This is a new month and we have another opportunity-to be better people, to make better choices, to live better lives, to make more money, to move forward and to be on top. I enjoin us to readily be open to positivity and to remain grateful for every little blessing (the little drops…).

Welcome to my blog!

Welcome to July!!

Welcome to my awesome but imperfect life!!!

(Remembering the one who has hurt me the most…)

I thought you were a god

But then I was toddling

I thought you held the world in your hands

But then I was teething

I thought you were my hero

But then I was an ape

Now I see you for what you are

You don’t impress anyone

But then you don’t care

I think you would die crying

But then I wouldn’t care

Because now I know

I know you are a monster

Because now am sure.

What fun is there for men who board buses at night and then, taking advantage of the darkness, they begin to “stylishly”, “stupidly” begin to fondle a woman? First they “mistakenly” touch her breast, when she starts, they quickly adjust but before long, they begin to “mistakenly” touch thighs and legs. When they’re screamed at, they either look on stupidly or they feign innocence and righteous anger?

I have had that experience and many women have told me similar stories. There’s no excuse to that sickness and any man who even thinks it should seek help. It is not invasive, it is humiliating and cruel. I see no difference between this and rape. No woman boards a bus hoping to be violated for the creepy and sick satisfaction of a dirty stranger. That is rape!

I have talked about this before but, it has become so commonplace that I think shouting it from the rooftops is urgent and necessary. While I would want these people prosecuted and jailed, I am also a strong proponent for capital punishment for all rapists.

This is no good…

Someone recently accused me of having a “male problem” and having a “complex” cos I am a woman. Said, I might turn out to be a lesbian (if am not secretly one)…or have no husband and kids. Was I pissed? Didn’t even bat an eyelid.

Let me take it from the middle…do I have a “complex” against some men? Most definitely yes. Hold on… the guy who made those said that to me, had the impetus to tell me that God created women to be “Helpers”-servants and slaves. Yes, I have a “Complex” against certain men (like my accuser) and yes, the complex makes me want to murder them. The most astonishing thing’s the fact that the man is a teacher. I mean, what must he be teaching students when his reasoning is still “dark”.

I have said it time and time again, I am no Feminist/womanist. I am a woman passionate about equal rights of all both sexes. I do not care for labels and all these “ists” can get on my nerves some days but if I must be described with an “ist”, I would rather, humanist. This is my stand. No gender is superior. I am working with the love of humanity for the equal progress of all.

I was at an organisation and I overheard the director of the place, insisting that women should be paid less than men after all, women did not need money as all they ever spend money on are: lipsticks, shoes, handbags…you see where am going with this…. Furthermore, he argued that men needed more money to take care of their women so other men don’t snatch them and the men also need it for Ipads cos they are “generally, more creative than women”. I tell ya, smartphones; stupid people.

When I ask these men if they see their mothers or sisters as lazy, servants and slaves, they usually go on the defensive. When it is general, everyone has an opinion no matter how stupid but once it is personal, it is a different ballgame. I like to keep it personal cos…it is personal!

Some men claim that their wives biggest achievement is they…their husbands. I wonder, can they have it any other way? Why do peeps lie to themselves so easily?

I want people to be more honest. There are many unsung women/mothers who are the breadwinners of their homes. Many who, without their support, the home would suffer greatly. Their are many pioneer women, many career women…the portfolios of today’s woman is so extensive that, I really wanna shed tears that it is still questioned.

I have a male problem…just not in the way that you think. I was raised by a mother who never allowed, “I am a man…” talk to ferment around her home. Anyone could be assigned any chore and it must be done. Even the men in the home now say that no woman can starve them cos they can cook and cook better. That is the way I see the world. if we must compete, don’t begin to flex your muscles rather, flex the brain or comparable body part.
I do not have any problem with women who ‘submit’  to their husband’s authority in their homes. That’s their understanding. The Bible says, a man should love his wife AS he loves himself. The men are quick to forget this. They only remember… a woman should submit to her husband’s authority. I always ask, if you love someone as you love yourself (for instance), do you beat, abuse…murder that self? people are so concerned with “who they are” even within the confines of their own homes, with their partners and family that they erect strangleholds rather than strongholds- of peace and love.

Outside the homes, why would every male want the woman’s submission? Do they love her as they love themselves? Why then do I hear, “why would you, a woman, talk to a man like that?” all over the place? (Used on me and other females).

As for me, I would not raise a daughter whom I would tell to accept a man’s authority just cos he’s a man. I would raise a daughter whom I would tell that the world is hers and there aint any man or woman alive who is ‘better’ than her…especially cos he is male…or female.

It is indeed a painful relapse,

Tell me to swear off sex until am sixty, I got no problems with that…right now. Tell me to eat only fruits for the next ten years…done…for now. Tell me to give up eating stones…we got a problem…

I have come back again to say that i have relapsed and although I am not going around picking stones to chew, I still do something that is familiar…when I lay my hands on stones, it is a battle to get me to stop chewing.

Don’t think I am not trying. I have even agreed to enter a rehab but, where is it in Naija? I only have the advices of “well meaning folks”, most of whom have never been addicted to anything! It is really frustrating. First, I have to give up something which I love by consciously and continuously telling myself that I don’t love it any more (which takes a huge courage). Secondly, I have to pretend the hunger for it isn’t tearing me apart.  (This kills a big chunk of me).

Let me tell you about this my new habit of chewing gums everyday. My close pal told me to stick a gum in my mouth each time the craving came on. You know, at the peak of this addiction, I was chewing as much as thirty fine stones in a day. When I became committed to dealing with it, I cut it down to five…big clap guys?! Do the gums work? So long as there’s no stone closeby! And this time, ten stones…or twelve. That’s one doddering step forward and ten backwards…I tell ya, its a painful relapse. Much more painful cos, I see no workable quick elimination process…I promise, I’d take it. Please don’t recommend crap.

I am like a warrior severally beaten down by her own people…I leave ya…with my head bowed.

Severally, I have found certain kinds of love…stupid. I mean, the “hot”, “passionate” ones people claim and I even come to that conclusion just by listening to (in on) lovers.

I have heard conversations like this in different places: “Baby, where are you?”. Pause and then, “What are you doing there?” Pause. “For how long would you be there?” “When would you be leaving there?” Pause. “Have you eaten?” Pause. “What did you eat?” Pause. “Was it delicious?” Pause. “You didn’t invite me?” Pause. “Yes, even though I am many miles away, I would have still felt appreciated that you thought of me while eating your meal…” Blah, blah, blah…. Here I get done with the conversation cos am already feeling like puking all over the speaker.

I have also heard this one: “Have you plaited your hair?” Pause. “How is it?” Pause. “Hope when I see it, I’d just faint?”… for real!

Well, I think I puked. Don’t just blame me or think am judging anyone’s relationship. I mean, I still got the right to puke and just so you know, I’d rather have a conversation about snails than anyone like that. Many of the cute guys I never date have somehow tried these lines of conversations…or is it a twenty-twenty kind of questioning? I would so snap at ya if you ever try “mushy” on me cos, the funny thing is that, I overheard those conversations from guys.

Do I say romance is stupid? Not at all. Some days I love romance…I don’t plan on the days I like them though so, when you’re dealing with someone like me, it’s always safe that you just assume it’s my off day.

What I call stupid are questions like the above… can you please talk of something else? Your day? And maybe without saying how much it was boring cos “he/she” wasn’t there with you…don’t be a wuss. Imagine thinking I have had a fun day with my girlfriend and she makes that kind of statement to her boyfriend. No matter how much she doesn’t mean it and supposedly said it as a lover’s thing, I would always assume she did.

If you’re that romantic, keep it for your bedrooms. In there, no one would think you sound stupid.

Want to tell me something romantic, read my blogs, critique my works, tell me am good but I can be better that I already am. Talk to me about mountains and caves and rocks and streams and waterfalls. Tell me that I would probably be an understanding but strict mum…(easy here though). Tell me to hop on the next plane and go an adventure with you…even if for archaeological excavations…or to see ancient manuscripts. Take me to a chef and let me try a foreign dish (that I might never have to cook again). Don’t ever tell me looking into your eyes makes you shy!

Those are romance and romantic to me. Experiences are romantic to me. I find nothing romantic about what anyone ate or how pretty a hair is…so, if you’re going to be showing love around me, now you know. If I find you and your partner boring…now you know too. I like you but my mind just reads: Avoid, stupid love!

A:

I was talking with my mum recently and one of the stories we shared revolved around a couple who were on the verge of ‘self destruction’. Yes,  ‘self + destruct’ though I am talking about couples. I subscribe to the whole “1+1=1” stuff in marriage…some days.

Now, back to the couple. Each of them was looking for ways to protect himself/herself against the other and if it was possible that the other person died…all the better. The husband was accusing the wife of been behind the death of his brother while the wife was accusing the husband of witch-hunting.

The couple have children together and continue to share one roof…why? What are they trying to salvage?

B:

One of my distant relatives have one of the most tumultuous marriage I have ever known. Every day she calls for people to come and help her talk to her husband. He is cheating on her and has said severally that he is done with the marriage. There is no disrespect that he hasn’t shown her but, she still clings on…praying and fasting; believing that ‘someday’, he would ‘repent and come home to his family’.  I am talking of an educated lady in her thirties who has had four children and works in a big Nigerian institution.

Her story is most pathetic to me because, I see so many reasons why she shouldn’t stay but she sees so many reason why she should. E.g “What would people say?” “I already have four kids” “How would I start life afresh?” “He would take my kids from me and bring in another woman who would deal mercilessly  with them” “He would take my kids from me and brain wash them into hating me” “God is against divorce” “It would now seem like am the only woman around who cannot keep her marriage” “I can take it…it’s not yet that serious…besides, I now have a shock absorber…”

She sure does…her BP is always so high that she collapses on a regular basis.

C:

The friend of my friend is in what I call a “tortoise and fox” marriage. According to the woman, it was after four years of her marriage that she discovered that her husband had four accounts in three different banks and that he had a lot of shares in two. Here some people might begin to take sides with the man or with the woman but, the full gist of it is this- A) The man usually claimed to have no money even before the marriage and this made the lady foot most of the bills for their marriage. B)The husband according to her, would rather spend money on his relatives than on his home. C) When asked for money for his son’s clothes, he reportedly asked, “Have I finished buying clothes for myself?”…this to the wife who pays the rent while he keeps living in his deluded state of mind (thinking she doesn’t know his ‘secrets’. But,  in her own words, she has become “wiser” and so, two of them are now “Solomons”.

D:

A married man bitterly complained to me about his wife stating that her “insolence” has become unbearable. She had was not “submissive” and insulted him everywhere. She talked back at him and she would drink beer (which he also drinks), in front of his friends! (African woman!)

I will not say that I have all the answers (since am not married) or that I know my tomorrow and that once this or that happens in my marriage, I would get out immediately but, it remains a big burden in my heart that many men and women are fighting to salvage a marriage that…isn’t there anymore.

A man who lives abroad and tells people to find a nurse whom he marries because of their big pays abroad or a man who hurriedly decides to marry because his superiors at his banking job have told him that he must show enough evidence of stability (marriage) before his next big promotion or who marries not the woman of his choice but the woman of his family’s choice; should not expect a smooth marriage or compatibility.

A woman who gets married because her mates have “all gotten married” or because job wasn’t forth coming and so she had to marry the wealthy suitor to insure herself against recession and poverty, should not be looking for a happy home because that wasn’t the basis for her marriage.

I always ask, what are you fighting for? You cannot be fighting for something you never had in the first place and even if you had it in the first place, it is a grievous mistake to fight…and to keep fighting alone. So, what are you fighting to salvage in your marriage?

All the ‘tricks’ in the book might not bring back someone who was never yours to begin with and even if it does, that crack would keep widening because there’s not much glue holding it in the first place.

It is un-African to divorce, many claim and I always ask, is it African to die of heartbreak? Death or being bed-ridden is  good news for your ‘partner’ because with the former, you are permanently out of the way while in the latter, you are watching while your biggest fears come alive!

Marriage is great…if you wake up each morning, glad for another day with your partner. Marriage is great if even when there’s a ‘jam’, you are confident that together, you both would pull through stronger and more in love.

I wouldn’t tell you to leave your partner or to stay with your partner but, I would ask you to ponder on these questions, “What are you fighting to salvage?” and, “Are you fighting alone?”

(In Retro…)

What do I mean by men and ‘loyal’ women? What again is loyalty and what does it connote? Still the same…-faithful, trustworthy, reliable…. The list keeps going but, you get the idea already.

Now, I would cut straight into the heart of the matter by asking these general questions…

• Have you noticed that many men these days, go for women many times younger than their age?
• Have you noticed that most Men pay lip service when they say they can marry older women and ‘age is just numbers?’
• How many men will comfortably live with women who earn more than them?
• How many men would be comfortable living with ‘strong/tough’ female icons?

I have become concerned over the high rate of marriages which take place between many older men and their much younger wives. By much younger wives, I am talking of women who are barely out of their teen years. I find this alarming. I am an African and I have lived all my life in this continent so, it is only fair that I will use the ‘men’ among whom I have lived all these years as yardstick.

At this age (old enough to read these words), I do believe that we all have heard how the world is supposedly a man’s world and how the man is the head and all that, right?

The paradox in that is that, sadly, many men are living their relationships in a ‘truth’ that is quickly evolving… all men and women are ‘now born the same’ but the average African man seems to still live as though time is suspended just for him. It is far easier for him to upgrade his blackberry to an iphone than for him to accept the changing of times. I keep having a problem with the way Africa accepts the ‘civilization/ modernization and technologies’ of many nations but refuse to have a mental evolution that matches material toys (which they often acquire in a showmanship for their own kind of development). 

The African male still has problems with his female boss because he takes orders from a ‘woman’. It is still ‘unimaginable’ that a woman makes more money than her spouse. Many days I think to myself that if women were asked to stop driving cars in Nigeria, the men would hold a national celebration. How do I know this? Stay in heavy traffic any day and listen to how female drivers are cursed and shooed by male drivers. Listen to how she is dismissed with, ‘na woman nah…’ and you might accept this. Never mind that women hold the record for the least involved in motor accidents.

Why would a modern man’s fear include the loss of his ‘headship’ to his spouse? A lot of people would query immediately, ‘why not?’ and to those people I ask, ‘which is most important…a happy life with your partner or a life lived as though on a battlefield?’

Why do I ask this? Many men so want to be in charge and keep their women on a leash (loyal women) that they forget to really enjoy living. A man told me that the more women stick to their guts and assert rights, the higher the unmarried women ratio would go. That would always be a shame, I told him.

When a man marries a loyal (timid) girl, he is ‘safe’ for as long as she remains ‘loyal’ (timid). The ‘terrible’ thing is that one day, the woman would grow up and there goes the loyalty.

What is the fun in living with only furniture? Yes, it can’t talk back. No matter how much you enjoy the furniture, you would get tired of it. No matter how much you beautify it, you would still get tired of it. No matter how boring you are, one day; something that stimulates your brain would hit you and then what? You can’t discuss it with the furniture! You would still one day, begin to think of that fantasy of yours in partnership.

So, why all the clamour for ‘loyal’ women? The sad reality being much younger who are yet to discover themselves and their world.

The woman has to be ‘loyal’ (timid)? Alright, how about women feigning this loyalty and then at the end of the day, the wolf which thought it would be eating up a lamb might find a lion under the dressing.

The woman is as human as the man and for an institution as crucial as marriage, it is paramount that everyone goes in very ‘clear headed’. Loyalty is superior when it stands for true commitment. Roles should be clearly defined and no one person should shoulder the whole loads just to prove headship. Isn’t it greater fun that the home is a relaxation area for a couple after the stress of the day? Why burden it with machismo?

I would not be comfortable in a relationship where I do not assume important roles especially in terms of finances. Health, education, feeding, leisure e.t.c are areas of great burden on anyone person. Partnership means that the burden is evenly distributed. This reduces a lot of stress which could bring on disgruntlement. And why wouldn’t anyone be disgruntled? Who loves to feed their liabilities?

A woman should never think that her job ends when the man has had enough food and sex. Mental stimulation is very important in every relationship. It is a shame that a lot of our women stay in many abusive relationships because they are neither enlightened nor financially independent. The man’s job is not to put food on the table and splurge on the woman. That is a dangerous luxury. We all grew up with our image of the perfect partner. I do not know any man who had the idea that his ‘perfect’ partner would be a well decorated furniture.

The African cultural practices seem to always place the woman below the man. The reason cultures that say, bury their leaders with human heads are abolished is because, development and enlightenment has taken over. “The people that once dwelt in darkness have now seen a great light” In our society and in the home especially, this is the right attitude.

How does this ‘loyalty’ rush thrive? First, I am going to say what we already know to be true; “a house divided against itself cannot stand” Why do many mothers encourage their sons to go for ‘nice’ (semantics and puns)? Even certain mothers are ‘scared’ of women of certain professions…well, most professions. Some believe that female lawyers are too stubborn. Female bankers; too busy to run the home efficiently, female lecturers; too ‘sabi/too know’, female doctors; too independent and the list continues…. How pitiable. Some mothers equally believe that women from certain tribes are not fit for their sons. As they are usually wayward/ materialistic/ stubborn e.t.c…based on ‘facts’ handed over to them by their own mothers and mothers before those.

Mothers who advice their sons to marry women they can easily control contribute significantly to the disquiet in these homes and I say this without apologies. Let the son be a man and marry whom he loves no matter her profession or temperament. In time, love should conquer them if they be willing.

I do not write today to reproach…but, to enlighten through exposition and this leads me to our women. The ones who want to be ‘taken care of’. The ones who believe that they are second class citizens and should be treated as such…well, how could I blame you? You already lead your life. But, for the women who believe that they deserve better, I write for you most especially and I encourage you to look within and see if some of the things I write now describe you…

Why do some women earn salaries and give them to their husbands and sit back while the man draws the budget? What is the wisdom in passing money under the table to your spouse to pay for the lunch because he’s not with the money? Why do many women shy away from taking responsibilities in the home and even as it concerns them unless they get approval from the man?

Some already reading the above would say that it works perfectly for them or it keeps the peace in the home and I ask…where are you in that perfection and in that peace? Where? Even science tells you that you stand the risk of brain rot for under using your brain. If it must tilt the home to the brink of a breakup, why not find other constructive actions to take in your life and home? Why don’t you take time to rediscover yourself and just be?

A union is working when the couple sincerely know themselves as individuals and can stand apart if need be. If this sounds like a stretch to you, try living with yourself for a decade. No matter how much you love yourself, you must get bored to tears…. I say this in recognition of the 1+1=1 idea in a union. Yes, you are one but, would you not be bored? Would you not cherish fun? Then, never lose yourself. Take decisions, take action. The truth is, if you can’t make yourself happy, you cannot make someone else feel happy or feel complete.

I draw the curtain closed on this and I believe that there’s a soul out there who has benefited or who has some questions…please, do let me know!

Thank you all for reading.

Why Make the Nigerian Student the Enemy?

I have watched with increasing dismay over the long debates on the falling standard of education in Nigeria and today I lend my voice to this debate. I chose to speak out for the student whom many people; while running away from their shame, heap the blames on. I would use our figures and ‘facts’ to make my case for the student because, there is a ‘cycle’ that must be broken. A step by step analysis, is my approach…

Let’s begin from the Home:

Every students education begins from the home and this is a fact. Question is, what is the student learning at home? What is being taught? Who is teaching the student? Who takes responsibility in a balanced education of the student?

Most parents leave the home between 5:30am and 8am and they return between 4am and 10pm. So, in 24hours, the ‘student’ learns from the parents for roughly seven hours assuming we take away the sleeping times, feeding times, leisure times and others…. This is not an indictment on the parents but, this is an approximation of times spent between parents and kids.

When I ask, what is being taught? I mean, what has the parents studied/read/ learnt that the child needs. It is undeniable that there’s a great wealth of knowledge and information contained in books. What are parents reading aside from the occasional newspaper skimming?

Some investors attribute their success to ‘a book a month’. Where’s the time for the reading by the parents and then, what do they read?

A book contains a lot of ideas someone labored to acquire and within its pages is the privilege of gaining that labour without much stress. Our horizons are broadened through books. Ideas ferment, gain wings and fly and the student understands that the seeds of greatness does not just lie within him/her but, the sword to cut down barriers and the wings with which to fly is in his/her bosom. How many homes have libraries and are equipped with books that are not just religious but contain classics, motivational, scientific, research and artistic materials? I began to read classics from Fathers library even before I began writing my first novel at nine years! So, what is the student reading in the home?

Who takes the time to go through the report cards of the student? When reports are treated lightly, the student shows light commitment. (I would revisit this issue as I progress).

A ‘government consultant’ and ‘motivational speaker’ , Dr Emmanuel Atalor whose article on problems for mass failure I read said that, a significant percentage of students are from broken homes and “you can easily identify a child who comes from a broken home and one who has come from a peaceful home”. I know some children from broken homes and most times, except when told, there was little or no difference and as such, I do not indict the parents because of that. Attitude is key because a positive attitude equals a positive lifestyle and opens one up to positive mental improvements whether in a peaceful home or in a broken home

There is room for bettering a student’s life when there is a positive attitude, mindset and lifestyle in there. Laying mass failure on broken homes…doesn’t hold with me.

My second step takes me to where the student spends the bulk of his hours and years… The SCHOOL

• The pre-nursery and the nursery
• The primary
• The secondary school
• The university

The Pre-nursery and the Nursery/ Primary Schools

It is very important that schools are properly scrutinized before been chosen for the student especially at this stage (not that any one stage is more important). Reports abound of these schools where the child is drugged so that the student stays ‘quiet’ all through. What is quiet to the all-round development of the student at this time? From personal experience, many of the toys and playthings in many schools are just for ‘shows’ to impress parents and visitors. The students of schools that do this do not get on any of these playthings at all.

Again, many teachers here (likewise in the primary schools) do not have the background training adequate for the proper handling of the student. Some teachers here do not speak well; and it is not uncommon that they still mispronounce ‘R and L’ words. There is more to teaching than having patience as a virtue (not that I take this for granted at all). I believe that a student progresses as much as his/her teacher at this stage.

The good thing about private schools in my opinion is that, though they’re out to make a profit, there should be a significant change in their system of education. There are private schools where the student chooses some of their subjects and this is good. We are created uniquely and many times, the ‘bridging’ of this uniqueness by schools is not an advantage. A student might be interested in ballet and not sculpturing and so on but, when the student is made taught in a horizontal manner, without regard for his/her own interests; this is harmful.

Life is all about choices and a student should be accorded his right to chose. The uniqueness of the student is not a threat neither does it breed haughtiness (where do we even get our wisdom?) but, it is creative! Let the teachers ground themselves in extensive learning and research so as to help the student and not feel threatened or feel the need to squash the ‘excess’ of ‘that student’.

The Secondary School

• All stats are from the office of WAEC.

The appalling results released to students from secondary schools make my heart bleed. It seems that the job of examination bodies is to kill the hope of the student each year and portray him/her as unserious and useless. In 2008, 1,369,142* students sat for the WAEC and only 13.76% had at least 5 credits in subjects (including English and Maths). In 2009, 25.99% had at least 5 credits. In 2010, 24.94% had at least 5 credits and in 2011; which is said to be the best in three years, less than 31% had 5 credits. A breakdown of 2011 WAEC is this: 1,373,009 took the exams of which 755,955 were males and 617,054 were females. Processed results: 1,265,090…92.14%. 426,244 had 6 credits and above while 574, 108 had 5 credits.  107,919 had errors while 109,201 were withheld for ‘various malpractices’.

I do not claim to have all the answers but, I must ask the question on everyone’s lips, “What is happening?” Year after year, we see examination bodies frustrating the dreams of students and altering destinies!

How is the secondary school system improving to suit the developing world? What books are available in the libraries? Which teacher-training programs are available to the teachers who teach? What motivation is given to the student? Which heroes and mentors are accessible to the student? What importance is attached to the quality of the education given to the student? What is taught the student that lies on the horizon beyond the school walls and gates?

Apart from dishing out redundant courses and meting out punishment to rule violators, what is there for the student? I always wonder at teachers who teach courses like physics, chemistry and all that. How abreast of developments in these areas are they? Those who teach literature, how vast have they studied and how many field trips have they undertaken apart from reading from those textbooks? I learnt about, Igneous rocks, sedimentary rocks and metamorphic rocks in the secondary school…isn’t it a pity that we only took notes which detailed their characteristics? I never even saw a rock to tell me which I was looking at! What about those who teach ‘scale of preference?’ The Economists. Was I ever asked to ‘show’ it in real life terms? No…it is documented in my notes.

Look at how the student even write the jamb and WAEC. Two different school curricula. The student in the boarding school studies for JAMB on his/her own in the midst of serious preparations for WAEC and NECO; while the day student pays for extra lessons. WAEC is broken off at some point and the student goes to write JAMB. How fair is that? How ridiculous is it?

As if this is not enough, terrible measures are put in place as though to ensure that no student gets into the university. How is it that even a student going to study Igbo Language in the university cannot gain that admission without a credit in English and Maths? What is English (what about Ibo, Yoruba, Hausa, French, Chinese? They are also spoken all over the world) and Maths? (What’s algebra to the driver? Architect?)

What is there for the student apart from taking the first position and the last? And while we ponder that, let us move into the final formal education stage…final not last…

The University

In 2004, I became an undergraduate and the cut off for English language and Literature was 232 and was regarded as being really high. That year was equally the last year that only Jamb was used to admit students. Post UME came in 2005 and things took a darker turn for the student.

I don’t know about you but, apart from school fees, the student has to pay 10thousand or as much as 25 thousand in some federal institutions as acceptance fee into the university. (What again is this acceptance fee?) With the current economy, how has the cruelty of school administrations reached this height, I wonder? Where is a farmer’s child whom God blessed with an admission even expected to cough out these outrageous fees?

But, I digressed. I began with my score in Jamb. As of 2011, the score for the same course has increased by 25% and in many schools I researched; this has increased by thirty percent. And I ask, why? What changed to warrant these changes? I would give apparent reasons for this…

Currently, there are 17 federal universities and 26 state owned polytechnics in Nigeria even with all the noise of adding 6 more universities before September of this 2011. *The U.S has 251 national universities, 280, National Liberal Arts Colleges (which emphasize undergraduate education and award 50% of their degrees) and 626 regional universities. I wonder why I would begin to compare but, my reason for putting this out is not for comparison but I had to understand why the student is frustrated by the universities.

According to Julius Okojie, the executive secretary of the National University Commission; each year, over 1.3million students sit for university entrance examinations but only 300,000 are admitted! How disgraceful is that? With the ridiculous number of universities we have, were would over 1.3m students go into? Why then are the Jamb and Post UME scores increased that recklessly as though the fault lies with the student? The schools can’t admit, why then should the examination bodies, the government and universities not talk to the student?

The student takes ill, lives in shock and undergo life/destiny altering experiences following yearly rejections for reasons not entirely his/hers and no one is talking!

I am no longer a fan of formal education but, for the student who remains a fan, more should be done for him/her.

With the advent and growth of the private universities, the student might have heaved a sigh of relief but, this is not the case. The fees paid in these private schools only terrify and pursue students. Naming names might insult sensibilities but, is it not ridiculous that most private universities charge from as much as 350 thousand to 650 thousand? So, on the one hand, the rich go to school, those with exceptional ‘luck’ (is examination a true test of knowledge?) join and then, ‘those who know those who know those who know somebody’ and there…we have 250 thousand and 50 thousand of geniuses; making up the three hundred thousand people to be admitted. Very laughable indeed.

Now, I take you into the university…. Let us go into the library. Without naming names, I know that I speak authoritatively here. Many university libraries are only most current in the Daily’s. The books housed are as old as Methuselah and out of touch with the growing world. With the advent of the internet, new information is rife and university libraries are at sea.

Take a look at the school curricula. Those who teach courses like Computer Science have no computers in their offices, can’t even boast of an email address and cannot operate any computer beyond their blackberry. As of now, FORTRAN is still the farthest many universities have advanced…in terms of computer education. How then would the student be blamed when he/she cannot operate a computer, install a software or a drive after four years?

The psychologist has no practical work on his/her studies. The lessons begin in the classroom and end in the classroom and they come out knowing little terms which are redundant and of little use in the society.

How many Economists in the universities have tried following the economy? Can give us a data and draw us a map to at least; predict our economic health…for the next one month? Before we ask them, let us ask their teachers?

The literary student memorizes a lot of Wordsworth and Byron to the neglect of Ohaeto, Osundare and Soyinka as though we would only live in their foreign worlds. How many teachers know the newest trends in literature? How many of them have attempted to re-write any or even critic any? So many teachers carry ‘doctored’ textbooks (foreign textbooks which they had ripped off by publishing as theirs) and then, read extensively from them…imparting little or nothing.

Look at the projects given to final year engineering students in some schools and you’d laugh. A chemical undergraduate final year project was ‘soil sedimentation’. For many other students, the topic of their choosing could get cancelled because the lecturer does not know that theory, that field of research and is too ‘busy’ to know so, the student would have to take on a project that pleases the supervisor otherwise, failure is guaranteed. The student must never rise above the teacher no matter how dormant and wasted the teacher has become, isn’t it? What a shame.

For many university teachers, if the student must pass, he/she must buy their doctored or substandard textbooks. The student would buy and write his/her name down otherwise, it is sometimes impossible to pass that course. A true story was told about a lecturer whom when asked how he arrived at a particular answer in his textbook replied that, that was how it was in the foreign text he had copied it from. Funny you might say but that is a fact of the educational system of today.

The school is a business venture of sorts and it is little to no wonder that ‘strikes’ are ideal…. Teachers need time/rest as they run many businesses. Some who do not run any business do ‘runs’. They charge the student money to dash scores or to increase them. Well, if you can’t pay, be a woman and book a hotel. Spread your legs and the deal is sealed.

I do not lay my blames on teachers alone but, if we must effect changes then the hard truths which are usually harsh when blunt, must be told.

What can be done for The Teacher?

I remember that I once walked into the office of a HOD of a university and it was in disarray because the secretary resigned after not been paid for months. The central authority had said there was no money to keep secretaries and I wonder why there was a secretary for the central authority.

It seems teachers are cheated in many circles. The government according to Hassan Taiwo Soweto, ERC National Coordinator, UNESCO recommended 26% of appropriation bill for the Education sector but, what do we see in Nigeria? Out of 4.226trillion naira, only 35billion naira went to education though 39billion was proposed. 350billion went to the National assembly of which 12m is for the meals of senators. 312m is for refreshments and meals for the President. If the President and Senators were schools, I suspect 4trillion would have gone for them.

Education is the future of any nation so, why is Nigeria not investing in the teacher and the system as a whole? Where are schemes for a continual, cheap and accessible training for teachers? Certificates should not be an end but should constantly evolve. The certificate acquired through the education of previous decades should not be a poster of achievement in today’s world but should be improved on.

Many teachers in private schools have no job security as they are employed and fired at will. This should not be so. Organizations set up to protect the ‘common’ teacher seems so far away to address his/her issue and this does help the teacher in anyway. Better measures should be implemented to protect the rights of the teachers even while improving them.

Finally and in line with my essay, I believe that I have made it clear that, the student is not an enemy and should not be treated as one. Let everyone sit up and take a stand for the improvement of the student and the educational system. While some people say Nigeria is a curse and then keep on harping about all that isn’t working with us, the student shouldn’t be clubbed over with all these but should be treated with dignity as the future of Nigeria which he/she is.

Thank you for reading.

A new born baby is found abandoned in the bush.

A new born baby is found dead in an old pit toilet.

A new born baby wrapped in a leather bag and dropped off on the road is crushed to death by a vehicle.

A new born baby’s skeleton is discovered in a refuse dump after it had been burnt to death.

A new born baby is discovered in front of a house; hungry and diseased.

All countries in the world have laws guiding  different aspects of their lives and most times, the collective beliefs and cultures of the people play a dominant role in the kind of laws that would be put in place.

The laws guiding a country in Asia cannot guide Nigeria successfully and this brings us to our laws on abortion. The Wikipedia defines abortion as ‘the termination of a pregnancy by the termination or expulsion from the uterus of a fetus/embryo resulting in or caused by its death…’

The issue of abortion has long being the issue of very long and tedious debates all over the world. This is hardly surprising as human life is at stake in the case of abortion.

In Nigeria, abortion is prohibited under the penal and criminal codes and carries a heavy jail term of up to 14years unless it was performed to save the life of a woman but that has not even come close to preventing abortion and its attendant problems in Nigeria. Unsafe abortion for instance, is a major cause of mortality and morbidity in Nigeria, accounting for 30-40% of maternal deaths (Okonofua FE, Odimegwu E. “Assessing the Prevalence and Determinants of Unwanted Pregnancy in Nigeria”. 1999). This has not reduced the rate of abortion in Nigeria which is 23 per 1000 women aged 15-44 years and is about 610,000 pregnancy terminations annually (Henshaw S.K, Singh.S “The Incidence of Induced Abortion in Nigeria”. 1998.) and about 60% of these terminations are still done by unskilled practitioners (Adewole I.F, Oye- Adeniran B.A… “Contraceptive Usage among Abortion Seekers in Nigeria”. 2002).

What do all these figures boil down to? Abortion continues to grow despite the legal, the moral, the societal and the health implications. Any other crime could get a pass mark but not the crimes against children. This would certainly gain no pass mark with any sane person. The growing rate of infant mortality and morbidity as a result of abandonment should call to question the penal and criminal codes against the legalization of abortion in Nigeria. The fact that the Nigerian peoples and cultures are yet to be tolerant towards single mothers call for a desperate need for compromise.

The stories of abandoned children abound but there’s no one to tell the stories of their mothers who bear the brunt of the society’s total indifference and humiliation. ‘It takes two to tangle’ hasn’t helped the case of the Nigerian single mother as she is treated like the ‘adulterous woman’; dragged before Jesus without her partner. The now single mother raises a ‘bastard’ against the jeers and laughs of her neighbourhood.

How then would many women not opt for an abortion, no matter how unsafe?

The conscience of the society would be better assuaged if it ‘sees no evil and hears no evil’ and the ladies who opt for abortions would live with their own conscience as well and this would not have to be a national epidemic anymore as child abandonment would be greatly reduced and the deaths of these children on the highways, pits, incinerators, bushes and even outright murders would become a thing of the past.

The school curriculum needs to have a healthy dose of culture education which teaches the morals and values of its people. Education is one of the greatest fighting tools in man’s arsenal. When the educational system is properly spiced with a conscious and practical knowledge of the lifestyle of its people then, the growing generation would have a lot to respect. Also, sex education at all levels should be encouraged so that where sex education is not taught in the home; it could be taught in the schools. It should be taught at the discretion of the school authorities as the dangers in not making this kind of knowledge available to the students are much greater than not… no matter the moral and societal argument in favour of the opposite.

Welfare schemes need to be developed by the government (as we all know that poverty and ignorance are the culprits at the heart of  moral decadence) to provide for, as well as take care of the poverty ridden areas which creates room for people to throw away every form of decorum and ‘set their morals on the loose’.

The media should be more sensitized to eschew materials that glorify sexual escapades without any form of censorship.

The average educated Nigerian is greatly influenced by the West especially America but, we need to understand that America has no culture to speak of. It is a country of laws. The argument here is this- the law is binding on the intellects of a people while culture is binding on their morals. The law reacts with a sentence to be served while culture reacts on the conscience. The law already knows it must be broken but the culture reminds the people of the coming generation and demands a legacy.

But, what we might learn from America if we so wish is the understanding of its supreme court which ruled in 1973 that a woman and her doctor could freely terminate a pregnancy in its first trimester (if the woman so wishes). This kind of law should be considered in Nigeria if the mother insists rather than have these children suffer cruelty and death.

On the other hand, mothers and teenagers should have easy and cheap access to counseling whether pregnancy is to be kept or terminated. These would go a long way in promoting healthy relationships and a healthier society.

There is  no easy way out of this debate but, a stiff ban on abortion as is the case in Nigeria should be tampered with mercy for the sake of these babies that would be ‘thrown away’ and for the sake of the society.

One movie that I would recommend for anyone and indeed everyone is ‘Three Idiots’… (I wish Nollywood could step up). Why would I recommend this Bollywood movie? I would tell you; do read with me…

If there is one subject that I never could pass, that would definably be Math. If you had read my piece on, ‘Me and my Bullies…’ you would understand why I now say this…I knew many cane inflicted pains. My mother being a teacher never spared her own cane whenever the children misbehaved. I did misbehave a lot…especially around Math….I never could pass it.

Many nights, the only sound the neighbours would hear would be mine as my mother flogged away every time I failed a mathematical question and this was nearly every night. The nights I was spared were the nights she was either too tired to flog or nights I was too ill to be flogged…these weren’t a lot though.

I grew up under the mental pressure of passing not just the art subjects which were my favourites but also of passing Math which was my worst. When I say I never could pass it; I mean it in all truth. In my secondary school, I passed Maths twice…at my second year (because, the corp member who taught the subject was also my lesson teacher; I know this) and at my junior WAEC and this was a pass… God sure saw the ulcer that was eating me up because of incessant fasts to pass the subject.

You see, I needed to pass that junior WAEC as I had already repeated my second year because I failed Math. I took home the prize for the best English student even though I failed the Math. For goodness sake, why do teachers focus on the weak subject areas of a student when they can focus on his strong subject areas and help him feel powerful and relaxed enough to overcome his weak areas?

Well, I failed Math all through even up till the Senior WAEC and look where I am…working on my MA thesis. You know the thing with failing? If you do not allow it to break you…it would refine you. I have never been defined by Math and I have never defined myself by Math so…?

Who needed the headache anyway? Yes some day, you could ask me 1+1 and I would say 11 but, that doesn’t mean you can short change me or that I can’t add and all.

When Ford took to his defense in court after being called an illiterate, he confounded his overly learned prosecutors by asking what he needed all that education for when he has at his beck and call, the ‘educated’ people doing it for him. Is he not still Ford?

Ever since leaving school, I honestly have never had a reason to wish that I had put more effort in Math because; all those scary looking x and y have never had to apply in real life. If I wear my black top and blue jeans and black shoes, what is the x in it? If I give you #50 and I buy #20 akara, you give me my #30 (hope am correct? Kidding!) Change, what is the y there?

Back to ‘Three Idiots’ with its simple message, ‘all is well’. Have fun along the way of life. Why kill ourselves because we fail when we’re not dead yet? I would rather keep sticking out my neck and keep failing and having fun all the way than for me to just remain a mouse…scurrying away from it all.

Have fun my friends! All is well!

What do I mean by men and ‘loyal’ women? What again is loyalty and what does it connote? Still the same…-faithful, trustworthy, reliable…. The list keeps going but, you get the idea already.

Now, I would cut straight into the heart of the matter by asking these general questions…

• Have you noticed that many men these days, go for women many times younger than their age?
• Have you noticed that most Men pay lip service when they say they can marry older women and ‘age is just numbers?’
• How many men will comfortably live with women who earn more than them?
• How many men would be comfortable living with ‘strong/tough’ female icons?

I have become concerned over the high rate of marriages which take place between many older men and their much younger wives. By much younger wives, I am talking of women who are barely out of their teen years. I find this alarming. I am an African and I have lived all my life in this continent so, it is only fair that I will use the ‘men’ among whom I have lived all these years as yardstick.

At this age (old enough to read these words), I do believe that we all have heard how the world is supposedly a man’s world and how the man is the head and all that, right?

The paradox in that is that, sadly, many men are living their relationships in a ‘truth’ that is quickly evolving… all men and women are ‘now born the same’ but the average African man seems to still live as though time is suspended just for him. It is far easier for him to upgrade his blackberry to an iphone than for him to accept the changing of times. I keep having a problem with the way Africa accepts the ‘civilization/ modernization and technologies’ of many nations but refuse to have a mental evolution that matches material toys (which they often acquire in a showmanship for their own kind of development).

The African male still has problems with his female boss because he takes orders from a ‘woman’. It is still ‘unimaginable’ that a woman makes more money than her spouse. Many days I think to myself that if women were asked to stop driving cars in Nigeria, the men would hold a national celebration. How do I know this? Stay in heavy traffic any day and listen to how female drivers are cursed and shooed by male drivers. Listen to how she is dismissed with, ‘na woman nah…’ and you might accept this. Never mind that women hold the record for the least involved in motor accidents.

Why would a modern man’s fear include the loss of his ‘headship’ to his spouse? A lot of people would query immediately, ‘why not?’ and to those people I ask, ‘which is most important…a happy life with your partner or a life lived as though on a battlefield?’

Why do I ask this? Many men so want to be in charge and keep their women on a leash (loyal women) that they forget to really enjoy living. A man told me that the more women stick to their guts and assert rights, the higher the unmarried women ratio would go. That would always be a shame, I told him.

When a man marries a loyal (timid) girl, he is ‘safe’ for as long as she remains ‘loyal’ (timid). The ‘terrible’ thing is that one day, the woman would grow up and there goes the loyalty.

What is the fun in living with only furniture? Yes, it can’t talk back. No matter how much you enjoy the furniture, you would get tired of it. No matter how much you beautify it, you would still get tired of it. No matter how boring you are, one day; something that stimulates your brain would hit you and then what? You can’t discuss it with the furniture! You would still one day, begin to think of that fantasy of yours in partnership.

So, why all the clamour for ‘loyal’ women? The sad reality being much younger who are yet to discover themselves and their world.

The woman has to be ‘loyal’ (timid)? Alright, how about women feigning this loyalty and then at the end of the day, the wolf which thought it would be eating up a lamb might find a lion under the dressing.

The woman is as human as the man and for an institution as crucial as marriage, it is paramount that everyone goes in very ‘clear headed’. Loyalty is superior when it stands for true commitment. Roles should be clearly defined and no one person should shoulder the whole loads just to prove headship. Isn’t it greater fun that the home is a relaxation area for a couple after the stress of the day? Why burden it with machismo?

I would not be comfortable in a relationship where I do not assume important roles especially in terms of finances. Health, education, feeding, leisure e.t.c are areas of great burden on anyone person. Partnership means that the burden is evenly distributed. This reduces a lot of stress which could bring on disgruntlement. And why wouldn’t anyone be disgruntled? Who loves to feed their liabilities?

A woman should never think that her job ends when the man has had enough food and sex. Mental stimulation is very important in every relationship. It is a shame that a lot of our women stay in many abusive relationships because they are neither enlightened nor financially independent. The man’s job is not to put food on the table and splurge on the woman. That is a dangerous luxury. We all grew up with our image of the perfect partner. I do not know any man who had the idea that his ‘perfect’ partner would be a well decorated furniture.

The African cultural practices seem to always place the woman below the man. The reason cultures that say, bury their leaders with human heads are abolished is because, development and enlightenment has taken over. “The people that once dwelt in darkness have now seen a great light” In our society and in the home especially, this is the right attitude.

How does this ‘loyalty’ rush thrive? First, I am going to say what we already know to be true; “a house divided against itself cannot stand” Why do many mothers encourage their sons to go for ‘nice’ (semantics and puns)? Even certain mothers are ‘scared’ of women of certain professions…well, most professions. Some believe that female lawyers are too stubborn. Female bankers; too busy to run the home efficiently, female lecturers; too ‘sabi/too know’, female doctors; too independent and the list continues…. How pitiable. Some mothers equally believe that women from certain tribes are not fit for their sons. As they are usually wayward/ materialistic/ stubborn e.t.c…based on ‘facts’ handed over to them by their own mothers and mothers before those.

Mothers who advice their sons to marry women they can easily control contribute significantly to the disquiet in these homes and I say this without apologies. Let the son be a man and marry whom he loves no matter her profession or temperament. In time, love should conquer them if they be willing.

I do not write today to reproach…but, to enlighten through exposition and this leads me to our women. The ones who want to be ‘taken care of’. The ones who believe that they are second class citizens and should be treated as such…well, how could I blame you? You already lead your life. But, for the women who believe that they deserve better, I write for you most especially and I encourage you to look within and see if some of the things I write now describe you…

Why do some women earn salaries and give them to their husbands and sit back while the man draws the budget? What is the wisdom in passing money under the table to your spouse to pay for the lunch because he’s not with the money? Why do many women shy away from taking responsibilities in the home and even as it concerns them unless they get approval from the man?

Some already reading the above would say that it works perfectly for them or it keeps the peace in the home and I ask…where are you in that perfection and in that peace? Where? Even science tells you that you stand the risk of brain rot for under using your brain. If it must tilt the home to the brink of a breakup, why not find other constructive actions to take in your life and home? Why don’t you take time to rediscover yourself and just be?

A union is working when the couple sincerely know themselves as individuals and can stand apart if need be. If this sounds like a stretch to you, try living with yourself for a decade. No matter how much you love yourself, you must get bored to tears…. I say this in recognition of the 1+1=1 idea in a union. Yes, you are one but, would you not be bored? Would you not cherish fun? Then, never lose yourself. Take decisions, take action. The truth is, if you can’t make yourself happy, you cannot make someone else feel happy or feel complete.

I draw the curtain closed on this and I believe that there’s a soul out there who has benefited or who has some questions…please, do let me know!

Thank you all for reading.

I was possibly the most bullied kid I knew and for years, I used to shy away from the pains I endured in my preteen years. Recently though, as I began to realize how much my story could draw attention to the issues of bullying which many children face, I knew the time to confront my past had come. Many children live with many tyrants and I hope that they can draw strength from my story. I hope this strength helps them fight back.

Home is a family of eight (six kids plus parents) and the strain of raising six children was a burden my mother bore alone. She had just sacked the last help before I turned seven. Therefore, being the second child and the first girl (yeah…girl), I grew up a little too fast. From breakfast to the time I left for school, felt like a military training session as the hurry to do every task within the shortest time possible was the chief priority for me and my mother. When school closed at 2pm or 4pm (depending on the school schedule), I was home in time…helping around the house.

I became the second mother in the house at that early age and I bore my tasks as best as I could. Maybe it was this…maybe it wasn’t but, I was scrawny and (as ‘everyone’ would say) as ugly as a mouse.

Scrawny and ugly was not something that I could help but, I was equally unkempt as I was my laundry caretaker too…a combination of these three ‘sins’, made me the easy target for bullies…they could be more than three ‘sin’ though.

It wasn’t unusual for the boys in my class to drag me to a corner during break periods and just begin to bash my head against the wall, slap my face until it bruised and then, kick me on the stomach. My crime ranged from being too ugly to too skinny to too unkempt to too spooky to too quiet and the list just kept growing until, there was no other reason except that I existed. Many days, I picked up my bloody self and returned to the class and the only victory in my heart would be that I still didn’t cry!

I had no one to call a friend as no one even wanted me for a neighbor in the class. I remember this experience…. We had just passed into a new class and at that age, girls and boys were becoming more conscious of their sexes and so, we usually sat separate-the boys staying separate rows from the girls. This time though, it was different as the teacher said, a boy must sit between two girls and so on. When the teacher called me and appointed two guys to sit beside me, they immediately shouted, ‘Aunty no!’ The class burst into laughter. The woman insisted and so, they became my neighbours.

Often, the boys fought as they pushed their lockers away from mine. They drew lines on the floor which my locker would never dare cross. Some days, my locker would have been smashed. Some days, I was beaten and blamed for causing their fights. I always took their beatings stoically and though it always earned me more kicks, I was determined to never cry and I never told my ever absent father or my always busy mother. We all had a cross to bear so why burden anyone with my problems?

What I would find funny these days were the teachers who would pick on me because ‘popular opinion’ had elected me as the target. To give them a little credit, I was either late to school or I never answered a question thrown to me. Between getting my younger siblings ready for school and preparing myself, there was really no way I could be early and I always paid the price. The teachers who loved to pick on me would drag me out to the front of the class and then, flog me until I bled. My offence? Lateness and their gain? Providing the comic relief. You see, the class usually howled with laughter as my pinafore usually made a ‘poof!’ sound whenever the cane connected. I was too scrawny to ever fill in a dress properly. The floggings were never enough as I usually got the task of darkening the blackboard after school hours too.

I stayed brilliant throughout my preteen years and I remember once, I was the only girl chosen among some boys to represent my school when the school hosted an inter-school quiz. My school lost but, we shouldn’t have. I knew the answers to most of our questions but, God forbid that scrawny mouse talks! The courage to defend my school had even flown away even before the quiz commenced.

How indeed would I have had the courage to defend my school when I had no courage to defend myself against a boy who insisted that I changed my name to his otherwise, he would kill me the next school day? I didn’t want to die and so, I went home and asked my mother to please begin to call me ‘Uchenna’, which was the boy’s name. My mother found it amusing that I liked that particular name all of a sudden. She even indulged me by calling me the name that evening and I was happy. The next day though, the boy didn’t even remember my ‘assignment’ and I was happier.

With me each day of school was my favourite meal; yam. I was soon to be deprived of this pleasure. I was enjoying a class one day when my teacher began to ask us our favourite meal. Almost everyone claimed rice and chicken or salad or plantains or spaghetti or macaroni and all foods like them until my turn came. Even before I was asked, I was already shaking nervously because I was the only ‘local food eater’. I was already thinking up a lie…rice or spaghetti but, I needn’t had bothered. The teacher got to me, called my surname and said, “yam”…along with every other person in the class. Once again, I provided the comic relief. Needless to say but, yam became my enemy at that very moment even up till today.

If the loss of appetite for my favourite dish was bruising, the attention of thrill seekers even among boys of that age was pathetic and horrible to go through. I remember that a guy threatened to push me down a storey building if I refused to let him “do me”. The fear of what my mother would do to me was what made me stand my ground against that bully and other thriller seekers. Somehow, it just felt like what I would rather die than accept.

I remember telling a boy that if it was that good, he should do it to his own sister. I remember the girl pleading with him to let her be. I was out of the door and fleeing the school to really know what happened or didn’t happen that day.

There are male bullies and there are female bullies. This is saddening but true. It wasn’t boys who discovered I had forgotten to wear my panties to school one fateful day. The girls did, and I paid a price for that forgetfulness. I was made to believe that the game of throwing me into the air and catching me would be very refreshing if I participated. My gratitude at been included in a game is one I am yet to forget.

The game started well for me and was going well too until, I discovered that many boys were forming a beeline around us. I was surprised but happy that my ‘skill’ or should I say, glee was indeed charming enough to draw the boys who usually stayed away from girlie games. Well, my people say that a mad man is never ashamed of himself…his kinsmen carry his shame. In my case, the girls became jealous of the attention my ‘nudity’ was grabbing and suddenly, one of the girls forcefully yanked my cape and I fell to the ground. A hand forcefully pushed me to a corner and a terse voice spat out, “Next time, wear your panties…” They all dispersed while I picked up myself from the ground amidst the jeers of the boys. This happened over a decade ago but, I have never gone outside my doors without panties till date…what a lesson!

I remember stealing a lot of the foreign pencils and cleaners that my parents kept in the home. I wasn’t stealing them because I needed them. I stole them because I discovered that whenever I brought them and someone yanked them from my hand; it brought joy to the person. So, I began to steal them and give to those who usually beat me up and they became my protectors. This saw me through for a while until the goodies ran out and I went back to square one.

Leaving my preteen school wasn’t in a blaze of glory even though I made the beautiful score that saw me straight into college. I was warned before hand by the boys that, they were going to beat me up ‘after school’. “To be forewarned is to before arm” Abi? I immediately ran away from my class and through so many hide and seek; I was able to run away from school unbeaten. I haven’t gone back since then.

Why did I take all these bullying? Why did I never fight back? I would never be able to go back and hear all my thoughts in those days or even understand all the reasons why I never fought back so…gone with the wind.

I have never looked in the mirror and seen a beautiful me. I don’t do ‘swan’ stories but, I believe this is to my advantage. I do not care about looks. I do not bother about who likes me and who doesn’t.

The bad that I deal with is my constant weight issues. In my college years, I became a junk food addict as I tried to gain weight at all costs. I didn’t want to be scrawny anymore. I did gain weight but till tomorrow, I am still fighting off the weight I gained. When not fighting off weight, I am worrying about gaining it back….

They say attitude is everything and I always like to believe this. My attitude towards these dark moments of my life has really defined me. I believe that the acceptance of the good and the bad that I have been through has made a more refined and better me.

For one, I know that those who hurt others are only hopelessly masking their own hurts, shame and complexes. I know that happy people do not have the conscience to hurt others and this brings a certain consolation to my heart.

Yes, I was alone in my world but, I became a reader and an observer. I have read hundreds of books (if I can’t say thousands) and really, I know that my ability to read people and events beautifully has made me the writer that I am today. The more I withdrew from people, the more I bettered myself and honed my skills as a writer and a critic (sure, this came later). I wrote my first novella at the age of nine and my first song at that age too.

I still do not have many friends (not because I still remember the mockeries I got from people whom I wrote letters to asking them to be my friends) but, I have better people skills and I am more humane in my dealings with all.

I am above the jeers and I feel happy living my life as a tougher woman. Not only can no one intimidate me; no one can intimidate anyone…under my watch. I have suddenly become ‘somebody’…

The scars of yesteryears remain but, through them all, I see no better way I should have turned out. Every pain has refined me in its own way and I am grateful for that and even more grateful for the grace to appreciate that. I see very few of those who used to bully me and it is a shame that they haven’t turned out better than me…I thought they were too superior to share a world with me. I meet some of these bullies and they want to be friends…and we talk sometimes.

This world keeps ‘shrinking’ through the possibilities of technology…isn’t it then a blessing that I can look through the world and see that my bullies still live on it and not in mars? I still see that they haven’t grown a second head.

I do not gloat at all but, having seen my gains as I turned around my life of pains; I can’t help but be grateful that my former bullies can see what a tougher woman I have become.

Unlike me, I had an argument with girlfriends over something totally stupid like saying, ‘the most satisfied man is the one whose partner can successfully play the role of his fantasy woman’ and vice-versa. I will take the same stance I took during the argument; looking in through the eyes of a man.

I could chose to go all Freudian with the whole Oedipus and Electra concepts but, for the sake of a general understanding, I make my case…. (I could never exhaust this argument without the backing of writers from Freud to Horney).

Through the love (and influence) of the mother to the obsession with screen divas; the ‘ideal’ woman for the man begins to grow in his mind’s eye. Of course, it is impossible most times, to get that particular woman but, hope is the engine that fuels our dreams. The man who doesn’t get that his ‘fantasy’ woman would look out for the attributes they believe the screen diva possesses or those they know their mother (if she is the parameter) possesses.

If the woman doesn’t have the face of J-lo then she better have the hips that are close. If she can’t be Beyonce then she better be a pretty veteran in her field.

There is absolutely no shame in these fantasies as far as am concerned but, when an immature man settles for less than our expectation; the woman in his life would pay for it.

How? How do you win a war you have no knowledge of? Nearly impossible, right? Even for the mature man, there is still a kind of woman that appeals to him. Not necessarily beautiful or tall and all that. Could be the mannerism which so reminds him of that woman buried in his subconscious. The model might not be enough to make a man cheat but, the elderly woman could. This is not always about the loneliness, need for variety and lust or whatever; the surge of that fantasy in the presence of a close ‘persona’ could cause an explosion…yeah; cheating.

I believe that one of the crucial questions every couple must honestly ask and answer is, ‘which woman/man lives in  is your fantasy?’ If everyone is honest, role plays could bring more fun.

Role playing borne out of this understanding does not in any way diminish a partner. Who doesn’t like variety? I do! Let’s not be too serious after all, we’re talking about years and years of commitment and so, any new innovation to keep things fresh and spicy should be most welcome.

This is my take on this argument but, of course, I would appreciate your take on it. Kindly get back to me and enrich my life too. Thank you!

If you enjoyed reading this then, ‘Men and their Loyal’ women is just what you need!

I think that my first curiosity arose out of my angst over not being a white girl. I wondered about all those little girls on (now) old album covers. I was thrilled at how they could effectively speak through their noses and oh…my goodness, I fasted and prayed to have such long, lush hairs.

I became curious as to how I couldn’t see these little white girls. Tired of just being curious though, I registered geography as a subject over history, despite the fact that I could read no maps or even understand what the heck longitude and latitude was. In fact, I would sooner have confused a compass for a watch than found my way through my room with a compass. I had to fail that subject woefully before I went back to history.

Today, I do not want to be a white girl anymore than I want to wear a long hair but, my heart always leaps at the thoughts of travelling to foreign lands. I love my foreign friends and I always want to touch a long, lush hair.

There were many things not readily available to me as a child. Things like the telephone (landlines) at that time, was not in my home. I remember my classmates talking excitedly about the ‘grrr grrr’ sounds it made whenever it rang. It has been many years but, I have used that ‘grrr grrr’ sound for my ring tune for almost all my phones and I bought me a landline just because.

Nature is my favourite friend and she has produced so much ‘mysteries’ to me. I remember my fascinations with stones. I would always pick stones and try to study them. How this curiosity arose, is one that I can’t honestly explain. I smelt them, collected them and treasured them and I still do. Stones have become an addiction to me…so much so that, I chew them. Some people use drugs as their high, some, sex; some, food; mine remains stones. There’s hardly a day that goes by that I do not chew stones…and passionately too. Nature’s kind!

My father’s large library as a child fed my book addiction. I remember reading, Troy. I remember reading Shakespeare…such classics which I read, I have never watched as movies. I believe movies are no match to books. I have become a book freak. I read every kind of book that I come across. I have never seen a book that I did not gloss over as long as it was within reach. Books are my prize addictions.

Father’s library wasn’t the only thing opened to me as a child. Father’s bar was equally open. I remember happily accepting beer from father as a child and drinking happily. When mother objected, I always felt bad and it was worse when father finally caved in and wouldn’t give me more drinks, I was furious. Stealing father’s beer was out of the equation as he knew how many they were at every point but, what he never could keep track of were the whiskeys and the brandy. I readily helped myself to them and never got caught.

I think that some vices are important to the wholesomeness of every growing child. I am not ashamed of any of my vices over the years. I stole a lot of money and stuffs from mother because, the money was always in plain sights and the more intimidated by the display of wealth by classmates (provisions, jewelries and the like); the more I wanted to belong…not with them but, in a class of my own. It wasn’t until I saw mother need money several times that, I washed my hands off that vice…forever. Which child has never stolen? Meat? Money? Sugar? Snacks?

I am not through with father. His love for tobacco made me experiment liberally though, I usually stole them from packs. If he ever missed them, well, who could have stolen them? We were children and he was the only tobacco lover in the house. I gave that vice up as quickly as I began it as a friend of fathers’ nearly outted me. A child/woman smoker? Ha!

Looking through a friend’s laptop one day, I happened upon his collection of pornography. I struggled a bit with myself as to whether or not it was okay. Well, curiosity took over. I observed two classes of porn. There is the debased and the pleasurable. Speaking from a woman’s (me) point of view, I do not see any pleasure in having two men screw a woman at once. I do not see why something as beautiful and as sacred as sex should be treated with such triviality as I observed in this and in other degradation. How does a woman allow objects such as a bottle to be used on/in her? Sex for exposure should be suitable for couples who wish to always ignite their sex lives and have a more fulfilling life together if they can handle it.

What then is the whole brouhaha over pornography? I know I can differentiate debased or pleasurable and so, I appreciate ‘closed door sex’.

I have an addiction towards going the ‘other way’ and doing the ‘other thing’ and this is an advantage in so many ways. Why you ask?  When children/teens or whomever is asked not to do something, be sure to speak with proof of its harm. I have set rat traps and poisoned fish just to kill rats so, I know the potency of poisons and I know what to say about my curiosities, vices and addictions.

It isn’t all about me though. I have watched from the privacy of my home and have observed a lot of ills meted out on ‘servant’. They take the fall for the wrong deeds of their masters/mistresses and their kids. I am addicted to their cause. I am addicted towards making a better life available to the one, two, twenty or one million that I can help. This for me has become my sweetest addiction of all, making my addiction to stones, stupid…almost.

Today, I close the chapter on Me: My Curiosities, My Vices and My Addictions even though it is for a while because I know that as my curiosities continue to grow, newer vices, newer addictions would be born and I am really eager to experiment.

*Disclaimer* I do not desire that anyone takes my vices and addictions as theirs…that is not my purpose. Know your own self and accept what is comfortable to you. Thank you for reading though.

Of course, there are the questions…how did I get to this brink? What did I do wrong and how could it have gone this bad? The questions do not eclipse the doubts either…am I doing the right thing? Shouldn’t I go back/continue? What’s in the future for me?

The best way forward I believe is looking backwards to understand where the stream got polluted.

I look at myself and to be really honest, I have never being an easy child. A lot of people claim that, I would rather die than do as am told. My friends have since given up on making me open to them. I am that one who no one knows what’s on my mind, what am thinking, going to do and all. I always wonder, why should anyone be an open book? Is there any fun in being boring? I think not but then, here I am on my blog…talking!

‘Man know thine self’ is a fundamental thrust of any life which I accept. I look at myself and I see a human being…not a woman first(as many would hope). As a human…a young adult, I believe I have understood a lot that has happened in my life, my environment…at least through my own eyes.

In my environment, the woman is ‘well known’ and ‘shallow’. Buchi Emecehta titled her book, ‘The Second Class Citizen’; the woman being that but, I agree more with Ama Ata Aidoo, in her book, “Changes” where the woman comes second to the last,her daughters(well, still women) come last. The woman is overtaken by sons, cattles, horses and sheep. A lot of people am sure would disagree with me but then, a lot of people live in denial while a lot have never cared much. I do care.

What is my business with this? You see, as a very young child, I overheard my brother and his friends say that, women gossip a lot and they talk too much. I believe that, that comment has gone a long way into shaping me. I made up my mind to do and be the opposite…talk less and never gossip. I remember that my bunkmate in my junior secondary school days, would sometimes tell me to get down on my knees as punishment for not talking.

Observation took over the place of fewer talks. I began to observe people, animals…everything and of course, I sought to know more and that introduced me to books. I began to read like one rescued from the scorching sun of the desert.

Books taught me that I am first a human before anything else. I understood that my rights are non-negotiable and that there was none better than me in anyway. Books transformed everything I had known and gave me confidence to be comfortable in the new me. This became a threat to those around me.

My confidence became arrogance when I wouldn’t let a man wrong me because he has might and I wouldn’t let a woman wrong me simply because her voice is louder.

I am arrogant when I tell the man who comes after me to board a vehicle that, he should sit inside while I sit close to the door or window. Arrogance is when I pay for my lunch and the lunch of the man whom I went on a date with. Arrogance is when I tell a man to never call me baby or chick? Are those even names? Arrogance is when I say that I would rather have a boyfriend cook for me than cook. Arrogance is when I refuse to wash a boyfriend’s clothes or sweep his house. Arrogance is when I say that I would not give my boyfriend/husband my money but would equally share responsibilities with him. Arrogance is saying that, I don’t find myself ‘maternal/motherly/wifey’. Arrogance is saying that I am contented with one female child if that’s all I have.

I have since become the matriarch of feminism and womanism to men and women. Women want to see me ‘humbled’ while men want to ‘humble’ me. I have since refused to be ‘humbled’ and now, voices carry towards me that say, ‘surely, no man would marry you!’. If that is meant to be a threat or a fact, I have since given up on understanding which.

I wear the ‘pants’ not because I want to prove anything to anyone or because, I fear that I would be hurt by anyone but because, the ‘pants’ is me! I am not a damsel in distress waiting to be rescued by a knight in shining armour. I climb trees to pluck a fruit and I set my own rat traps. Why then would some men beef me when I walk into a barbing salon for my hair cuts?

Being a woman is tougher than being a man in my opinion…especially in finances…where it matters a lot.  I spend less as a ‘pant-wearer’ for instance than as a stiletto strutting queen. My hair is short, there’s no attachment there and on my eyelids. I wear my nails long but natural and please…nature’s always cheap, easy and accessible.

Sitting in front of my laptop today, all I can think of is…once again, I know that my friends would rather I talked about my feelings/hurts of the break-up than this personal introspection but then, the future’s better when we understand the past and the present.

I might never be married, I might never have kids, I might be married and have kids but, a man or woman in my life does not dictate my wholesomeness and happiness. Those are solely my responsibilities and that is why I wake up with determination each day. The world is ever before me and many seconds hold opportunities for a second chance and a better day which hopefully, translates to a better tomorrow. Why waste these precious seconds on a life that would be most miserable to me? I dare not. It might be harder though but then, where’s the breakthrough in simple?

I am happy despite all the misunderstandings and jabs. I do not seek to change the world to become me only to live my life to the lees…as the me that I am.

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