IS THERE ANY LEFT?

"It's funny how sometimes, the people you'd take a bullet for are the ones behind the trigger." - Unknown

After what seemed like an endless buzz at the forestry arboretum, individual and cliques quickly devised methods to ease tension. I saw firsthand how discomfort could magically bud the display of talents. One group resolved to singing, a good number subscribed to taking sporadic selfies. Others were gossiping and chatting. Some, as usual went AWOL!

Now, there was this group of girls that totally monopolised my attention. They were playing the childhood game, who thief my needle?

Let me try and explain it to those who managed to skip this game on their journey from childhood.

It went like this:

(Everybody chorused),

Who thief my needle,
Danger!
My father's needle,
Danger!

I put am for table

Danger

They come and steal it

Danger!

Oji bole,
Danger!
Highway rubber,
Danger!
Kele
suke lele(3*)
Danger!

There are two groups in this game. At every sound of danger, one person from each side fell backwards with reckless abandon believing that the team mates would catch her and spring her back up. And they did! Mhen, it was fun!

It is this simple display of trust that always fascinated me about the game.

The principle of the game is simple; Trust people and be trustworthy!

Now, Imagine for a moment what harmony there will be if we apply the principle of this simple game to our lives!

Betrayal is treacherous!

Julius Caesar knew such treachery. Among the conspirators who assassinated the Roman leader on March 15, 44BC was Marcus Junius Brutus. Caesar not only trusted Brutus, he had favoured him as a son. According to Roman historians, Caesar first resisted the onslaught of the assassins. But when he saw Brutus among them with his dagger drawn, Caesar ceased to struggle and, pulling the top part of his robe over his face, asked the famous question, "You too, Brutus?" 

Greed, jealousy and unholy ambition have caused families and friends to become unnecessary enemies. Nations and organizations have failed because they underestimated trust.

Now in our country, you can't trust leaders with votes; market women with prices; spouses with vows; lecturers with grades; students with exams, the list goes on and on.

Do we stop trusting? No! Life would be boring without it. Only be careful who you trust and be trustworthy! The finest way to cure our world of mistrust is to give trust.

...because I believe that with you and me, there is still enough trust left in our world.

pulished in THE BEAUTIFUL FEET MAGAZINE, 2016 edition.

TO REMAIN OR TO BE?

As I write this in an over populated classroom in one Nigeria's most prestigious university, I can see hundreds of faces laden with diverse expression. Many hearts asking, "how long must we continue?"
To those uncertain faces and troubled hearts, I write...

Until a few months ago, I used to mix up these two words, worrying and thinking. How many times have you seen people so enmeshed in thought  and eyes like they've just witnessed Armageddon. And you said to yourself, "Mhen that guy can think!" If w x-ray their hearts, we would say "oh my! That guy can worry sha".

Now, anybody that can at least still afford oxygen can worry. It is easy and almost require 'no sweat'. Worry talks like this, "kai, wetin person go come do nah!" "Hmm, maybe Nah so e suppose be sha". See, all of those touchy statements do not solve any problem!

My friend, Sweet Mokogwu said about worry, "it is to exaggerate what's on ones head  more towards the negative". Bottom line, Worrying is unproductive!

Now, thinking is different! It's creative, tasking, solution oriented. This simple definition by English caught my attention, "To communicate to oneself in one's mind, to try to find a solution to a problem. Success Daniel NDU defined thinking this way, "it is a process  of creation by means of engaging the mind". There's the difference!

Here's a funny statement I often heard while growing up, "The witch flew passed the house last night, the child died this morning. What killed the child?

Now, for years, it was believed that the witch killed the child.

Until the white men came!

Their own children died mysteriously too! But they didn't give credit to the witch. They researched and thought and discovered that it was malaria. So, they brought mosquito nets and insecticides, and the children stopped dying. I still Wonder what happened to the witch!

Laziness to think happened to us, not witchcraft!

This our perpetual paralysis in thinking has quickly led to a decorated bank of ignorance. Ignorance is worst than a legion of demons. What you don't know will hurt you! But, how will you know if you don't think and search? In almost every nook and cranny of Nigeria, everybody seem to know our problems. Yet, nobody is thinking out the working solutions. Problems grow so fat because we won't task our minds.

The truth - We can either blame our enemies or banish ignorance. You choose!

You've worried about those problems for so long, have they changed? Henceforth, deliberately set out to think out solutions.

So to those uncertain faces and troubled hearts... We shall continue like this until we think ourselves out!

FATHERS FORGET...

One of the greatest underestimated tragedies of our day is the psychological and physical distance of fathers from their children. -Oue Norman Wright

Fatherhood is a tough job. Its failure leaves negative ripple effect on souls and times. A child is likely to turn out like the father or not! How do you become like the one you never knew?

So, where are our fathers? I don't mean baby daddies, I mean fathers!
The stories are the same. The problem is one. Money, death, women, bad habits, to name a few have taken our fathers from our homes! Our prisons and streets are filled with children whose fathers abandoned the critical values of buildinga home.

A few fathers who have managed to stay home have now forgotten so soon.

What did they forget?

Let's read FATHER FORGETS by W. Livingston Larned...

"Listen, son,

I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead.

I have stolen into your room alone.
Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me.

Guiltily I came to your bedside.
There are the things I was thinking, son:
I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel.
I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes.
I called out angrily when
you threw some of your things on the floor.
At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things.
You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table.
You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, “Goodbye, Daddy!” and I frowned, and said in reply, “Hold your shoulders back!”

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon.
As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles.
There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to
the house.
Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would be more careful!
Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in
your eyes?
When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. “What is it you want?” I snapped.
You said nothing, but ran across in one
tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed
me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set
blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither.
And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came
over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of
reprimanding - this was my reward to you for being a boy.

It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.
And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the
dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night.

Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the
darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!
It is feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking
hours.

But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come.
I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: “He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!”
I am afraid I have visualized you as a man.

Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are
still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too
much."

For those children without fathers and those with bullies as daddies, I pray you real fathers by tomorrow.

*Adieu A.G.E!

THE BEAUTIFUL DUCKLING

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? But how can many do not see the vast beauty Agriculture possess? Since when has blindness (or should I say neglect) become a virtue? We’ve so together as a nation gradually kick agriculture into irrelevance. Nigeria is fighting hunger but still abhors the only cure – robust agriculture. Bruce Benton remarked, “sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I’m tempted to think - there are no little things”. Nigeria’s economy is a perfect example of what great pain can come from a little reckless abandon. Nigerians have been consistent in very few things, sucking life out of agriculture is the chief of them.

Whenever agriculture is mentioned, people quickly conjure large expanse of land filled with numerous poorly dressed people and wilting crops and sickly animals where people work and work until they break their backs! A few others will quickly say “God forbid!| as if the mere mention of agriculture brings eternal damnation. Nowadays, an alternative way of cursing any Nigerian “you dey mad” is to say “may you study agriculture!” Growing up, I had thought that a celestial warning has been issued to all, tagging agriculture a different sin. One of the backwardness that has been registered in this age is the fact that some children believe that food comes from either the microwave or the sparely stocked stores lying in our streets. They think the only thing beneath the earth is hell fire and not agricultural product. How sad! A second year university student once said that she thought onions grew on tree because something so beautiful could not have come from beneath the ground.

Do you remember the children fable about the ugly duckling? (One of the very few that didn’t breed nightmare). It told of a duck that have six beautiful yellow ducklings and an ugly grey one. The ugly one was picked on by all other ducklings because it was so different. Sometime later, all the ducklings were grown and along come a flock of beautiful swans. How the ugly duckling adored them! Then it suddenly looked into the water and was shocked by what it saw. It was not, ugly afterall! So, it realized that it was simply uniquely beautiful. From thence, things changed for the duckling which has been made to believe that it was poorly patterned

This fable perfectly describe the Nigeria situation.
Agriculture for a long time has been made, to look ugly and thus, beaten to a place lesser than the background. All we see anytime we dare to look at agriculture is dirt, sweat and sand. Everyone has lost out by this seeming callousness. All these grandiose sickly effect stem from just one cause; IGNORANCE!

How many times have undergraduates of agriculture been looked down on as if by studying agriculture they’ve committed murder!
In this vein, our government has not helped. Our nation’s get-rich-quick drive has sunk us father into debt than wealth.

Posterity has been cheated out of value creation. Without putting them in a classroom, we’ve taught them that agriculture is bad luck, farming is evil, Animal husbandry is backwardness, conserving nature is a waste of time and caring about the soil is a pathetic science.

I once met a young lady who thought the only thing that come from leaves was marijuana (Igbo). How myopic Hmm! Agriculture is beautiful! Let’s start to look at the water of reason and see that agriculture is a cure to our many national sore. We don’t have the luxury of time anymore to nurture half baked thought about agriculture. Nigeria and Nigerians should actively participate in this escapade to harness the blessedness in agriculture. Tell younger generations the balanced stories about agriculture.

We have the responsibility to feed our exploding population. Importation is not a remedy. Hunger is not an option.

When you tell posterity about the sweat and stress of planting, don’t forget to add the joy of harvesting.

The next time you complain about the crude nature of farming, please, don’t forget to add that agriculture can be mechanized.

A collective effort from the government and Nigerians towards agriculture will go a long in curbing hunger, creating jobs, sustaining nature and building a formidable economy.

Healing is a matter of time, but it is also a matter of opportunity. Thank God we have the two!

Let’s take the time ad grab the opportunity to heal our minds, economy and nation. Thoreau once said “I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavour”
All hands on deck, all brains in gear!

The future is green! I hope you can see!

pulished in THE AGRICULTURIST MAGAZINE, 2015 edition.

THE YEAR GOD DIED!

God's not dead - Newsboys

Anytime you look at the world, what do you see? The troubles or God's firm magnanimity? Do you ever pause to be thankful or just wine about life's silly imperfections?

I think I agree that man's memory is treacherous. So, we need to help remind one another about the need to be grateful to God.

Imagine my shock (and later, lesson) when Zainab(thank you dear) shared with me this piece; The Year God Died!

It reads....

"So God died, and was laid to rest. Then, as expected, hell broke loose.

Satan turned the world upside-down. We ate frogs as food, and it was just one frog a week.

We had no water - not even our urine- for drinking. We drank our tears.

Demons taught us in schools without books. Our classes held in the dark. The sun was nowhere.

Chickens lived longer than children. Corpses were like grains of sand. Death was a friend.

So many more I cannot tell.

Pause. Breathe in. Breath out.

There is no such year. It has not been, and will not be.

My friend, God is not dead. He is still very much in charge!"

The author have a poetic way of awakening gratitude. I greet your imagination.

When I got this, a cord was plucked. Ingratitude to God is too heavy a burden to bear. There's  no better time to be grateful than now. If for nothing, let's thank God for being God!

What will you do with this?

EVERYDAY, AN ANGEL

To heal a heart is to live on celestial grounds - unknown.

No doubt, we all have had to be children once. We've had the audacity to dream and care less. We all had our 'impossible' and wild wishes before life and adults taught us the concept of boundaries and the trap of rationality.

One of my keenest wishes was to cross paths with an angel!
There was just one problem! I had never seen an angel, save for paintings and pictures. Then, I read about the angels that visited Abraham. How they came in human form and didn't have wings. It bothered me for a while that they didn't match all the artistic glamour I had read about.
Well, like I would later learn, the ingredient of an angel is not in the wings.

So, today I met an angel on a bus. He didn't promise me a child nor overshadow me with great light. No! He simply showed love! He gave me a phone to call (when i ran low on airtime) and paid for my shuttle fair. Yeah, that's all he did. Doesn't seem much like the act of an Angel, does it? Well, I take it as one.

Everyday, we cross path with Angels and other times, we become one. Never be too busy to notice! Every time you wipe any tears, touch a heart, heal a wound, stretch out a hand, help a soul...you've acted in the capacity of an angel. You need the heart, not the wings. Look out henceforth, and deliberately be an angel to someone!

Happy Birthday Achu Blessing, you are an Angel indeed!

TEACH HIM...

As a youth in this fast changing world, there are a lot of things about the future that we think and learn about. This has led the likes of 2pac and Bank W to write a song for their future children. It was one of  such leaning that led me to an immortal letter said to have been written by Abraham Lincoln to his son's school teacher.
Now, there's a petty debate about the author. Many say it's Lincoln, others say it was someone who was just trying to get a work some popularity by using a renown name.

My advice, whoever it was, skip that and grab the invaluable lessons.

The letter;

"He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just. That all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every selfish Politician, there is a dedicated leader. Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend.

Steer him away from envy. If you can, teach him the secret of quiet laughter.

Let him learn early that  the bullies are the easiest to lick... Teach him, if you can,
the wonder of books.

But also give him quiet time  to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and the flowers on a green hillside.

In the school, teach him  it is far honourable to fail  than to cheat.

Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they are wrong.

Teach him to be gentle  with gentle people,  and tough with the tough people.

Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone is getting on the band wagon.

Teach him to listen to all men but teach him also to filter  all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good that comes through.

Teach him if you can, how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tears.

Teach him to scoff at cynics and to beware of too much sweetness.

Teach him to sell his brawn and brain to the highest bidders but never to put a price-tag on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob and to stand and fight, if he thinks he's right.
Treat him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel.

Let him have the courage to be impatient. Let him have the patience to be brave.
Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself, because then he will have sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order, but see what you can do. He is such a fine fellow, my son!"

When I first read this, I thought for a second and wished to share. What better time than now! Dear teachers(you might not have gotten a letter), daddies, maybe you've not written one, children(even though it wasn't written about you)...I sincerely think there's a thing or two we can all learn from it.

Think about it, even as I take my pen and

...

SMALL, BUT...

Sometimes, when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I'm tempted to think...there are no little things! - Bruce Barton

Did you ever get to meet any of those guys who always said, "Nah small thing dey vex me"? I had many! And I always wondered, "whatever happened to big things?" There's another funny yet often  rendered cliché, "Nah small shit dey spoil yanch". Lately, I've been thinking, "how small is small?" Perhaps, one of the simplest lesson man is yet to fully grasp is that the weaving of small things result in  big things.

This is a story of conversation between a wild dove and a sparrow.
"Tell me the weight of a snowflake," a sparrow asked a wild dove. "Nothing more than nothing" was the answer. "In that case, I must tell you a marvellous story," the sparrow said. "I sat on the branch of a tree, close to its trunk, when it began to snow-not heavily, not raging blizzard-no, just like a dream, without a sound and without any violence. Since I did not have anything better to do, I counted the snowflakes settling on the twigs and needles of my branch. Their number was exactly 3,742,952. When the 3,742,953rd flake dropped onto the branch, the branch broke of the tree". Having said that, the sparrow flew away.

Do you still think little things don't matter? Oya, think again! Screen the next 'small' words you offer. Watch that next 'small' deed. Be careful with that 'small' thought. In our world, anything great good or evil started small. Deliberately add to people and things henceforth. Start small too.

I LOOK TO YOU

I've failed myself
The exact number of times I've tried
I've managed not to throw in the towel
'Cos of the eternal examples you've laid
I do hope you don't regard now
To break the instructive edge
Like brass, existence could be lethal
But joy can be suckled from the breast of living
In a lasting way you've taught
That I will win if I don't quit.
Frustrate the odds,
Stay on the excellence streak.
For by your light
A constellation shall be built
Even now as ever,
I look to you.

When I first heard Whitney Houston's I LOOK TO YOU, I knew I was gonna render a cover for it. Well, let's just say I never got to hit that note the way she did. However, I still got to do something with the title.

I used to be a thick  fan of I-don't-give-damn club. I thought everybody should mind their business. Well, like I would later learn; people were watching me! I'm not talking about the guys I was so pressured to please. No! I'm talking about those whom my/our life is a light to. Those who feed from your struggles and triumph. Those whose entire existence will be anointed by  your counsel.

Never be too selfish to think that your life is about you. Whatever manner you choose to lead your life will affect alot of people. Posterity is watching and learning from you. Lives are tied to you!

So, the next time you think, say or do, remember, a soul somewhere looks to you!

#happySUNDAY!

THE WISH LIST

A lot of funny things have played out in the series of adventure of the search for a ‘perfect’ spouse. Latent pressure from families and peers have driven boys and girls to do really crazy things in the name of love!

It is not rare these days to hear girls have really funny and awkward conversation. It usually goes like “Babe, see before person graduate, person need to catch one boy oh! First hold am tight”. And the reply is almost always “Nor be lie oh! Nah  so so boys just full everywhere! Husbands nor dey market oh!” (Husband don turn fuel abi).
There seem to be a brooding fear of finding a good enough mate in the girl circle. So, most times, they settle for just any guy!

I used to think guys were immune to this epidemic craze. It turned out that their own is even worse! You will hear words like “oh boy! All these girls nor just dey trip me oh, nah TEAR RUBER (but why) me dey look for oh”. I once heard a guy complain, Nah God go help person oh, wife material nor just dey common these days oh” (Nah Ankara?). 

A lot of singles have took to the streets to search for what they call the perfect soul mate. Most times, their guide is lust! John Hagee said about a man that sat in his office sometime ago, describing his future bride, “when I get around her, I cant breathe”. He said he responded, “it is asthma, not love”.

Have you come across any of those funny list that some single carry around these days? A some sort of menu where you list all the qualities you want your future spouse to possess. A sort of marital map. I stumbled upon one recently and after I read it, all I could do was laugh and laugh. It read “she must be carefully patterned and curvy, must be chocolate (ehn?) and 5’5 feet tall, Godfearing and must love my family, outgoing and clever, committed responsible and hardworking”. Now, understand me, I’m not saying it wrong, I only said it was funny.

Let’s not forget one simple truth! Any relationship that will work must be nourished by the people in it. Maybe you have a list, I hope you are everything or most things you wrote on it. It is not enough to demand, you must also be! Nurture those qualities that you want from people and then you might not be needing a list. We attract what we contain. We get the things we get because of the one’s we have. I read one time that the average woman would rather have beauty than brains, because the average man can see far better than he thinks. You see, likes attract. For those that still wanna build a list, make sure you get two; one for you!