There wasn’t anything fancy or classy about Pacoliso’s looks. Its key attraction was location. It was strategically situated opposite the small gate at Choba, close to all the major attractions of the University. Initially no students lived in Pacoliso, then with the sudden boom in off-campus accommodation, Pacoliso’s shrewd landlord decided to kick out his tenants, redesign the apartments and rent it out to students. It was an idea as brilliant as Mark Zuckerberg’s Facebook hijack. But before we dive in to the story, let me introduce you to the landlord, Loony Tunes.
“Without mincing words, permit me to say that the man was a borderline nut case. I had always assumed that schizophrenia was an oyibo disease but the concept of a well dressed mad man hadn’t crossed my mind. Loony Tunes had a split personality disorder, you could tell by the glint in his eyes. He was always well dressed and his English was excellent, but his madness was beyond imagination. One of the highlights of his actions was breaking a plank on a student’s head, the final round in a marathon battle they were involved in. His personality change was so sudden that you’d miss it if you so much as blinked. Loony’s sole occupation was being a landlord, and he sucked royally at it.”
The very first sets of students to move in were female. And by an act of coincidence, the next set was also female. The striking thing about all the female inhabitants of Pacoliso was that they were all beautiful. Now don’t get it twisted, I don’t believe any woman is ugly, maybe aesthetically disadvantaged, but the Pacoliso student-tenants were stunning. Word started to diffuse around campus slowly that Loony Tunes was hiring out self-contained apartments to students. The demand was intense; you had to be extremely lucky to get a spot. What made the odds tougher was that Loony Tunes had a strong dislike for the male species. The man simply didn’t like guys, don’t ask me why. So only the ladies got lucky, and he rented out to only beautiful and well-mannered chicks. I guess he didn’t want drama queens as tenants. So the day he accepted the two bespectacled young men as tenants, it came as a surprise.
“Shimon and Last Samurai were a striking pair. They both wore glasses and shared a few other similarities but they were as alike as Barrack Obama and Muhammad Ali. Shimon was the logical-thinking, BBC listening and intelligent statesman, a true diplomat. Last Samurai on the other hand was a hybrid of fire and ice, a fusion of different personalities, likeable but complex to decipher. They had no premonition of the circus that would unfold in the years to come and the journey they would share. They were friends and fellow-pypes and were excited at the prospect of living off-campus.”
The first incidence occurred the day they moved in and met their neighbor, Cubana. The young man sat outside the apartment clad in only shorts and a well-worn/almost frayed BYC vest. The notorious Port Harcourt heat and humid weather was in full force yet Cubana was puffing on a cigarette and taking small sips from a bag of NAFDAC unapproved pure aqua. He glanced at the new tenants warily from bloodshot eyes that looked glazed over and concentrated on his puffing. The distinct fragrance of Indian hemp hung around Cubana like a halo. He had probably smoked a few joints for lunch. Shimon, being true to his nature approached and introduced himself; Last Samurai grudgingly followed his lead. Shimon fired off a few questions to Cubana, eager to break the ice and get an overview of life at Pacoliso. As the conversation was going on, Samurai noticed Loony Tunes approaching. Once Cubana’s eyes were able to decipher Loony T from the distance amidst the marijuana fog that covered his eyes, he bolted into his room like Usain and left Shimon and Last Samurai standing outside the apartment in amazement.
Loony Tunes walked over to the 2 young men with a big smile on his face and as Shimon was beginning the rite of introduction, Last Samurai noticed an odd glint light up in Loony’s eyes. Then all hell broke loose. Loony sniffed the air and muttered “you are smoking cannabis in my house”. He lunged for Samurai’s throat while screaming profanity. Shimon was struck with shock as Loony pinned Samurai to the door while gripping his neck, you could notice the quizzical shocked expression on Samurai’s face, as Shimon struggled to explain that they hadn’t been smoking, Loony yelled a few more words and stomped away muttering to himself. The chaos had barely lasted a minute. Shimon and Samurai stared at each other in shock and surprise, with no words coming forth. Cubana crept out of his room a few seconds later, and burst out laughing.
Finally Samurai was able to mutter a few words. “What was that all about?” he said.
Cubana in between fits of laughter replied, “Ol boi, welcome to Pacoliso, you never see anything…”
To be continued...
Friday, November 11, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
If Pillows Could Talk...
“If pillows could talk…”
The morning light filtered into the room, basking it in warm glows. In the dim silhouette, you could make out the outline of the bed; the sheets clung to the edge of the bed frame, partially covering the intertwined limbs that were still caught in the throes of sleep, tell-tales to a night of passion. The pillow in contrast was clutched tightly by the sleeping lovers; you could almost feel the warm exhalation of air from slightly parted lips on the pillow…
I’m always outwardly clean, that’s one feature I take pride in and at the same time ashamed of because it paints a façade that masks the reality of my life. Looking at me, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference over the years, age has been kind to me and in as much as you might notice a few wrinkles, it would be impossible to guess my age. You may say that I stumbled upon the fountain of youth early and as amazing as that sounds, I wish I were old instead, shriveled and left to spend the rest of my days in solitude.
My mistress was kind-hearted, it didn’t show all the time but she looked after me. I don’t know if she did it out of a sense of obligation or if her actions were borne out of love but over the years I’ve learnt to cling to the few good images of life and leave other riddles unanswered. I still recall when we first met, love had nothing to do it, felt more like a compromise between chemistry and economics if you get my drift, but our relationship was founded on need. I needed to move on from public life and settle down and she needed someone to rest on. We were a perfect match, and our love for each other blossomed from there as time rolled by…Her scent was of summer roses and passionate fruits and once the lights were turned down low, I would close my eyes and bask in her fragrance. I didn’t care much about her other half, I had only eyes for her and everything else around was like a blur to me. Looking back now, I wish I had paid more attention…
The first time I knew something was wrong was when she travelled, for the first few nights there was nothing odd, Iife was its normal routine and I yearned for her touch and return. Then one night, I was awakened by the touch of another woman, her scent was different, subtle but not overpowering and I could taste the soft vapors of margaritas on her lips. Her fingers dug into my skin and I was swept away by the heat of the moment, lost in her moans of passion and bliss. I woke up the next morning on the floor, and as the memories of the previous night came flooding back, reality crept in like the fingers of winter. The evidence of my betrayal was tattooed all over my skin, red lipstick, few strands of hair and the inescapable scent of perfume that clung to me like a halo. Water can wash away stains and time can erase a lot of memories but guilt takes a long time to vanish…
At first I blamed it on the alcohol, there had to be a logical reason as to why it happened, I argued. A voice in my head whispered, “There’s never a reason, just an opportunity…” I shrugged it off, and tried to blank the incident from my mind. “Surely,” I said to myself, “it can’t happen again…” I was mistaken. It did happen again, and again…till I was forced to accept that there was another woman in my life. It sickened me because I couldn’t speak up and I was helpless to stop it. Whenever my mistress returned, she was unaware to what had happened in her absence. At night while she held me with passion, a part of me would cringe in shame at the betrayal. I was playing both sides of the coin and it was only a matter of time before karma caught up.
We were caught finally, it was inevitable so don’t act surprised. My mistress started getting suspicious, and the minor arguments started. I closed my ears to it, and at night she would cry out of frustration. I soaked up her tears and said nothing. I wish I could have said something but I was as guilty as the other woman. It wasn’t the lipstick or the hair strands or the perfume that gave me away, it was an ear-ring…a glittering ear ring that was forgotten by the other woman. Have you ever tasted the tears of a broken-hearted woman? It doesn’t taste salty, it feels like liquid fire to the senses, each drop burning into you like lava drops from a volcano, the trail leaving a scar that may be temporarily removed but permanently etched in your subconscious…
My name is Cole and if pillows could talk, this would be my story…
The morning light filtered into the room, basking it in warm glows. In the dim silhouette, you could make out the outline of the bed; the sheets clung to the edge of the bed frame, partially covering the intertwined limbs that were still caught in the throes of sleep, tell-tales to a night of passion. The pillow in contrast was clutched tightly by the sleeping lovers; you could almost feel the warm exhalation of air from slightly parted lips on the pillow…
I’m always outwardly clean, that’s one feature I take pride in and at the same time ashamed of because it paints a façade that masks the reality of my life. Looking at me, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference over the years, age has been kind to me and in as much as you might notice a few wrinkles, it would be impossible to guess my age. You may say that I stumbled upon the fountain of youth early and as amazing as that sounds, I wish I were old instead, shriveled and left to spend the rest of my days in solitude.
My mistress was kind-hearted, it didn’t show all the time but she looked after me. I don’t know if she did it out of a sense of obligation or if her actions were borne out of love but over the years I’ve learnt to cling to the few good images of life and leave other riddles unanswered. I still recall when we first met, love had nothing to do it, felt more like a compromise between chemistry and economics if you get my drift, but our relationship was founded on need. I needed to move on from public life and settle down and she needed someone to rest on. We were a perfect match, and our love for each other blossomed from there as time rolled by…Her scent was of summer roses and passionate fruits and once the lights were turned down low, I would close my eyes and bask in her fragrance. I didn’t care much about her other half, I had only eyes for her and everything else around was like a blur to me. Looking back now, I wish I had paid more attention…
The first time I knew something was wrong was when she travelled, for the first few nights there was nothing odd, Iife was its normal routine and I yearned for her touch and return. Then one night, I was awakened by the touch of another woman, her scent was different, subtle but not overpowering and I could taste the soft vapors of margaritas on her lips. Her fingers dug into my skin and I was swept away by the heat of the moment, lost in her moans of passion and bliss. I woke up the next morning on the floor, and as the memories of the previous night came flooding back, reality crept in like the fingers of winter. The evidence of my betrayal was tattooed all over my skin, red lipstick, few strands of hair and the inescapable scent of perfume that clung to me like a halo. Water can wash away stains and time can erase a lot of memories but guilt takes a long time to vanish…
At first I blamed it on the alcohol, there had to be a logical reason as to why it happened, I argued. A voice in my head whispered, “There’s never a reason, just an opportunity…” I shrugged it off, and tried to blank the incident from my mind. “Surely,” I said to myself, “it can’t happen again…” I was mistaken. It did happen again, and again…till I was forced to accept that there was another woman in my life. It sickened me because I couldn’t speak up and I was helpless to stop it. Whenever my mistress returned, she was unaware to what had happened in her absence. At night while she held me with passion, a part of me would cringe in shame at the betrayal. I was playing both sides of the coin and it was only a matter of time before karma caught up.
We were caught finally, it was inevitable so don’t act surprised. My mistress started getting suspicious, and the minor arguments started. I closed my ears to it, and at night she would cry out of frustration. I soaked up her tears and said nothing. I wish I could have said something but I was as guilty as the other woman. It wasn’t the lipstick or the hair strands or the perfume that gave me away, it was an ear-ring…a glittering ear ring that was forgotten by the other woman. Have you ever tasted the tears of a broken-hearted woman? It doesn’t taste salty, it feels like liquid fire to the senses, each drop burning into you like lava drops from a volcano, the trail leaving a scar that may be temporarily removed but permanently etched in your subconscious…
My name is Cole and if pillows could talk, this would be my story…
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Good Boyfriend
Coventry, UK...
October 3, 2011...
Back in the days in the Garden City, there used to be a common phrase amongst the "Pypes" that was rather hilarious. A typical convo would start like this (the translation is in parentheses for the uninitiated:
"Ol boi, u don fool finish" (Dude, u r hopeless)
"Wetin I do?" (What did I do?)
"U mean say u no buy ur malawi anything for Valentine?" (So you didnt get ur girlfriend a Valentine gift?)
"No be so, I dey see my die right now" (It aint like that, I'm broke right now)
"Na u dey carry last for boyfriend of the year" (U r in last place for a "boyfriend of the year" poll)
"Ur father lap!" (This was a basic yab, literal translation, lol)
Dat was in the good old days, when men were still boys and the theory of making relationships work was still a hybrid between trial and error and experience. Fast-forward a couple of years and I really don't know if the world has moved on or if the boys have really matured into men. I've never been of the school of thought that maturity grows with age, there's always an undefined variance to every statistic. I've come across many blogs and articles commenting on the qualities of the "ideal husband/wife". The views have varied from the downright zany to the quite outrageous and impossible, but they were quite interesting I must admit. The opinions reflected different mindsets, the female in sharp contrast to male.
So it got me thinking, how do you describe a "good boyfriend" or "good girlfriend"? I have always been of the opinion that you can't describe someone of the opposite sex simply because if you are not a man, then u can't think like a man. Any views you may have of the opposite sex is generally borne out of either experience, public opinion or your imagination, which is essentially a fusion of the qualities of members of your family or close friends who are of the opposite sex. So I think it would be apt for a guy to describe in his own words the qualities he feels the ideal husband or boyfriend should have. All you have to do is look in the mirror and count them off on your fingers, they don't have to be correct, but it helps if you at least have an opinion, so u don't just enter into a relationship trying to be the "ideal dude" when you have no clue what the requirements are. Or perhaps you've read "what women want in an ideal man", and you believe it as the panacea to all problems, well it depends on who wrote the book!
I've always used Adam and Eve as the foundation for all simulations (lol), don't blame me, they were the first couple on the block. Such love and chemistry, Adam woke up from his afternoon daydream to see a stunning beauty lying next to him, the dude didnt even bother to think, he kicked his dog (bingo) away and proposed right there on the spot (to all the ladies, he didnt use a ring, I bet he just plucked a flower and used it instead, lol). Eve didn't waste anytime either, "yes, I do!" she replied, and that was it! It's a pity she ate that apple, now we have royal weddings and 90 carat diamond rings (lol, I ain't complaining though, I love me some Coco). Anyway, how did Adam and Eve's relationship work? The one and only cue to their relationship that I could decipher was that Adam never said NO to Eve, he gave her everything she wanted, took long walks with her, gazed adoringly at her, and ate that apple with so much delight that it got stuck in his throat (next time Adam, get rid of the evidence!)
So what makes a "Good Boyfriend"? Most women would say, "he should be loving and caring". Let me tell you how the male mind deciphers that statement, loving and caring translates to spending money on the girl. That's the easy part, anything that can be bought with money is easy. Like Remix would say, "if money is the only problem you have, then you don't have a problem". Well, true, a good boyfriend should spend money on his girl, ur heart is where your money is, but thatz just a tip of the iceberg. There are some things money can't buy. Add this to the loving and caring checklist. A good boyfriend should...
1. Act like a real man but at the same time be flexible and submissive. Follow your girlfriend to the mall when she asks you to accompany her. If she doesnt ask, offer to accompany her ONLY if you mean it, there's no use trying to be a nice guy and then spend every second glancing at your watch. Enjoy the ride, she's making an effort to look nice, offer constructive criticism to her style and choices and offer your own views, if you have no clue, google it. It took me awhile to figure out the difference between a size 4 and a size 10, but I'm still a work in progress.
2. Know how to cook and clean. Let's not get into the debate of who should cook and who shouldn't. The bottom line is this, when she is pregnant, you'll have to take care of her, so think of it as an internship. And moreover you shouldn't be dependent on anyone for food. That's my opinion, every man ought to know how to cook, simple. Cook for your girl once in awhile, it doesnt matter if it tastes bland, the effort counts. And if it tastes bland, go learn! Google it.
3. Ask for wifey's opinion and listen to her. Well you better start getting used to teamwork. Adam and Eve ate that apple, thatz teamwork right there! What if Adam refused to eat the apple? Maybe Eve would have sewn garments for herself and laughed at Adam, "Yo Adam, go put some clothes on, u r swinging all over the place!" U can imagine the argument.
4. Not be too demanding. If she can't cook, teach her, if you don't know how to cook either, then hush it. She aint ur mum, so don't expect mama put everyday! Patience is a virtue alien to most men. Think like an Arsenal fan, don't be expecting trophies like a Man U or Barcelona fan all the time. Patience, hope and faith, that should be your motto. She'll get better. Go Arsenal!
5. Respect his woman. She is not a man, so don't treat her like one of your guys. Cut out the crass talk and soft yabs. You wouldn't like if it another dude talked to her anyhow, so watch your tone with her. Being a man means backing down from an unnecessary argument, making peace even if she started it, apologizing when you are wrong, accepting her imperfections and admitting your own weaknesses. In my opinion, it takes a king to know how to treat a woman like a queen, if you treat your girlfriend like trash, take a close look at the mirror, you'll most likely see a laborer or a tout staring back at you.
I'm sure you must be wondering if I've been brainwashed by some girl or under the influence of Tequilla (lol). I don't know if I'm a good boyfriend or not, I dey try sha. To be sincere, I just think communication is key for any relationship, intimate or platonic. Give more and expect less in return, and you just might stumble on happiness. I don't solicit for comments, but to all those who read this blog, let me know what you think, drop a comment. And feel free to share the blog/article, my views may be ridiculed by others, but who cares...Hakuna Matata!
October 3, 2011...
Back in the days in the Garden City, there used to be a common phrase amongst the "Pypes" that was rather hilarious. A typical convo would start like this (the translation is in parentheses for the uninitiated:
"Ol boi, u don fool finish" (Dude, u r hopeless)
"Wetin I do?" (What did I do?)
"U mean say u no buy ur malawi anything for Valentine?" (So you didnt get ur girlfriend a Valentine gift?)
"No be so, I dey see my die right now" (It aint like that, I'm broke right now)
"Na u dey carry last for boyfriend of the year" (U r in last place for a "boyfriend of the year" poll)
"Ur father lap!" (This was a basic yab, literal translation, lol)
Dat was in the good old days, when men were still boys and the theory of making relationships work was still a hybrid between trial and error and experience. Fast-forward a couple of years and I really don't know if the world has moved on or if the boys have really matured into men. I've never been of the school of thought that maturity grows with age, there's always an undefined variance to every statistic. I've come across many blogs and articles commenting on the qualities of the "ideal husband/wife". The views have varied from the downright zany to the quite outrageous and impossible, but they were quite interesting I must admit. The opinions reflected different mindsets, the female in sharp contrast to male.
So it got me thinking, how do you describe a "good boyfriend" or "good girlfriend"? I have always been of the opinion that you can't describe someone of the opposite sex simply because if you are not a man, then u can't think like a man. Any views you may have of the opposite sex is generally borne out of either experience, public opinion or your imagination, which is essentially a fusion of the qualities of members of your family or close friends who are of the opposite sex. So I think it would be apt for a guy to describe in his own words the qualities he feels the ideal husband or boyfriend should have. All you have to do is look in the mirror and count them off on your fingers, they don't have to be correct, but it helps if you at least have an opinion, so u don't just enter into a relationship trying to be the "ideal dude" when you have no clue what the requirements are. Or perhaps you've read "what women want in an ideal man", and you believe it as the panacea to all problems, well it depends on who wrote the book!
I've always used Adam and Eve as the foundation for all simulations (lol), don't blame me, they were the first couple on the block. Such love and chemistry, Adam woke up from his afternoon daydream to see a stunning beauty lying next to him, the dude didnt even bother to think, he kicked his dog (bingo) away and proposed right there on the spot (to all the ladies, he didnt use a ring, I bet he just plucked a flower and used it instead, lol). Eve didn't waste anytime either, "yes, I do!" she replied, and that was it! It's a pity she ate that apple, now we have royal weddings and 90 carat diamond rings (lol, I ain't complaining though, I love me some Coco). Anyway, how did Adam and Eve's relationship work? The one and only cue to their relationship that I could decipher was that Adam never said NO to Eve, he gave her everything she wanted, took long walks with her, gazed adoringly at her, and ate that apple with so much delight that it got stuck in his throat (next time Adam, get rid of the evidence!)
So what makes a "Good Boyfriend"? Most women would say, "he should be loving and caring". Let me tell you how the male mind deciphers that statement, loving and caring translates to spending money on the girl. That's the easy part, anything that can be bought with money is easy. Like Remix would say, "if money is the only problem you have, then you don't have a problem". Well, true, a good boyfriend should spend money on his girl, ur heart is where your money is, but thatz just a tip of the iceberg. There are some things money can't buy. Add this to the loving and caring checklist. A good boyfriend should...
1. Act like a real man but at the same time be flexible and submissive. Follow your girlfriend to the mall when she asks you to accompany her. If she doesnt ask, offer to accompany her ONLY if you mean it, there's no use trying to be a nice guy and then spend every second glancing at your watch. Enjoy the ride, she's making an effort to look nice, offer constructive criticism to her style and choices and offer your own views, if you have no clue, google it. It took me awhile to figure out the difference between a size 4 and a size 10, but I'm still a work in progress.
2. Know how to cook and clean. Let's not get into the debate of who should cook and who shouldn't. The bottom line is this, when she is pregnant, you'll have to take care of her, so think of it as an internship. And moreover you shouldn't be dependent on anyone for food. That's my opinion, every man ought to know how to cook, simple. Cook for your girl once in awhile, it doesnt matter if it tastes bland, the effort counts. And if it tastes bland, go learn! Google it.
3. Ask for wifey's opinion and listen to her. Well you better start getting used to teamwork. Adam and Eve ate that apple, thatz teamwork right there! What if Adam refused to eat the apple? Maybe Eve would have sewn garments for herself and laughed at Adam, "Yo Adam, go put some clothes on, u r swinging all over the place!" U can imagine the argument.
4. Not be too demanding. If she can't cook, teach her, if you don't know how to cook either, then hush it. She aint ur mum, so don't expect mama put everyday! Patience is a virtue alien to most men. Think like an Arsenal fan, don't be expecting trophies like a Man U or Barcelona fan all the time. Patience, hope and faith, that should be your motto. She'll get better. Go Arsenal!
5. Respect his woman. She is not a man, so don't treat her like one of your guys. Cut out the crass talk and soft yabs. You wouldn't like if it another dude talked to her anyhow, so watch your tone with her. Being a man means backing down from an unnecessary argument, making peace even if she started it, apologizing when you are wrong, accepting her imperfections and admitting your own weaknesses. In my opinion, it takes a king to know how to treat a woman like a queen, if you treat your girlfriend like trash, take a close look at the mirror, you'll most likely see a laborer or a tout staring back at you.
I'm sure you must be wondering if I've been brainwashed by some girl or under the influence of Tequilla (lol). I don't know if I'm a good boyfriend or not, I dey try sha. To be sincere, I just think communication is key for any relationship, intimate or platonic. Give more and expect less in return, and you just might stumble on happiness. I don't solicit for comments, but to all those who read this blog, let me know what you think, drop a comment. And feel free to share the blog/article, my views may be ridiculed by others, but who cares...Hakuna Matata!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Heart of Man
Woke up this morning to news of a bomb blast in Abuja. The first thought that popped into my head was "Boko Haram and their madness are definitely crossing the line this time. But then it occurred to me that no one had claimed responsibility for the blasts yet, so I held back from jumping to conclusions. As the hours went by, it was interesting to see the different debates and arguments on Facebook. Some blamed the Northerners, Muslims, the Nigerian Police Force, GEJ, even the Devil got some portion of the blame. I blame whomever my girlfriend blames, gotta stand by your woman (Yes boss!)
But on a more serious note, we never heard of Boko Haram till recently. My major argument is that our Government screwed up the day they began negotiating with terrorists. It all started with MEND, and we all turned a blind eye to it. Some labelled it as people fighting for freedom, I disagreed completely. We allowed our country to be held to ransom by a group of criminals and rather than nip it in the bud, our leaders granted them "amnesty". Even an illiterate man who watches TV knows that you don't negotiate with terrorists. Once you give in to their demands, there is no boundary. What I find amusing is that when MEND and the numerous "freedom fighting groups" were busy kidnapping oil workers and threatening to blow up oil installations, no one remembered their ethnicity or religious views. Were they muslims or christians? Don't get me wrong, but it is hard to criticize your religion, many would say that religion had nothing to do with the actions of MEND. I agree, but we never referred to them as the criminals that they are, instead we argued that they had been ignored and maltreated so they were fighting for a cause, we basically tried to justify their actions. We were not bothered because they weren't blowing up people, they just kidnapped people and got a huge ransome as a reward. That was where the problem started, we all turned a blind eye and allowed sentiment to overrule rationality.
Now we have the problem of Boko Haram, how did it start? Knowledge is power, ignorance is a tool of dominion. In the land of blind men, a one-eyed man is king. If you keep people ignorant, they are at your mercy. Some politicians have discovered this weapon of warfare and they put it to use. The extent of poverty and ignorance in the northern part of Nigeria is mindblowing. You wouldn't understand till you've gone there to visit. Let's apply the same sentiment we used in the time of MEND to Boko Haram. They say "Western Education is bad", in this era of freedom of speech, they are entitled to their opinion. Killing people in justification of their opinion is a criminal activity punishable by law, synonymous with what MEND did in kidnapping people for ransom. Should we also grant them amnesty if they agree to dialogue? After all, the Federal Government gave MEND soldiers scholarships and high paying jobs as a reward for surrender. If Boko Haram fanatics surrender, would the Govt also grant them islamic scholarships and high paying jobs?
I refuse to agree that Boko Haram is simply a religious movement. Where did they spring out of? From Mars. There is a strong political undercurrent to their actions. Maybe some elements are trying to undermine GEJ's tenure by showing his inadequacies as a leader, dunno. The bottom line still remains that some criminal elements have hijacked a benign religious movement and turned it into a malignant terrorist group. How to solve it? Fix the root, eradicate poverty in the grassroots and the ringleaders will not have any leverage over the masses. Any student of history can attest to the stranglehold of the Church over its subjects in the early years, history is repeating itself. Boko Haram or whichever splinter group that has hijacked them is exploiting the inadequacies and gaping loopholes in our system of governance. They are killing christians and muslims, we need to look beyond the religion and address the key issues. To label Islam as an aggressive religion is a debate that I refuse to engage in, simply because it does nothing to build relationships, it only causes division. Religion is the opium of the masses, us christian folk have skeletons in our closet too.
To cut the sermon short, I personally believe that GEJ needs to speak out, he cannot prevent all terrorists acts but he needs to act like he is the leader of a nation. If he has a plan or an opinion, he should voice it. Not only GEJ, all our leaders should step to the plate and act like leaders. In the days of old, kings rode into battle with their subjects, today the structure has been altered such that the rulers direct the actions of foot soldiers, but a LEADER has to dictate the pace. The President, governors, senators, reputable statesmen have to come together and act. The time for pointing fingers and trading blame is over, if we don't corral this issue now, then we are heading for the abyss. We'll simply become a target for any terrorist activity.
By the way, how do we know that the terrorist activity was not the handiwork of an international terrorist group considering that the UN office was targeted. On a final note, I have come to the conclusion that acts of terrorism (mob actions inclusive, for example the rioting in Jos and London) maybe induced by religion, ignorance or other socio-cultural or political factors, but the catalyst for unimaginable acts of destruction and violence cannot be modeled by any tangible parameter... an apt explanation? "who can understand the heart of man?" Reference the Spanish Inquisitions, the Jewish Holocaust, the insanity of the Cambodian Khmer Rouge, the Rwandan genocide...the list is endless...some acts are just inexplicable, how do you explain Hitler?
NB: Excerpts from the thoughts that flew through my head while waiting for Irene...
But on a more serious note, we never heard of Boko Haram till recently. My major argument is that our Government screwed up the day they began negotiating with terrorists. It all started with MEND, and we all turned a blind eye to it. Some labelled it as people fighting for freedom, I disagreed completely. We allowed our country to be held to ransom by a group of criminals and rather than nip it in the bud, our leaders granted them "amnesty". Even an illiterate man who watches TV knows that you don't negotiate with terrorists. Once you give in to their demands, there is no boundary. What I find amusing is that when MEND and the numerous "freedom fighting groups" were busy kidnapping oil workers and threatening to blow up oil installations, no one remembered their ethnicity or religious views. Were they muslims or christians? Don't get me wrong, but it is hard to criticize your religion, many would say that religion had nothing to do with the actions of MEND. I agree, but we never referred to them as the criminals that they are, instead we argued that they had been ignored and maltreated so they were fighting for a cause, we basically tried to justify their actions. We were not bothered because they weren't blowing up people, they just kidnapped people and got a huge ransome as a reward. That was where the problem started, we all turned a blind eye and allowed sentiment to overrule rationality.
Now we have the problem of Boko Haram, how did it start? Knowledge is power, ignorance is a tool of dominion. In the land of blind men, a one-eyed man is king. If you keep people ignorant, they are at your mercy. Some politicians have discovered this weapon of warfare and they put it to use. The extent of poverty and ignorance in the northern part of Nigeria is mindblowing. You wouldn't understand till you've gone there to visit. Let's apply the same sentiment we used in the time of MEND to Boko Haram. They say "Western Education is bad", in this era of freedom of speech, they are entitled to their opinion. Killing people in justification of their opinion is a criminal activity punishable by law, synonymous with what MEND did in kidnapping people for ransom. Should we also grant them amnesty if they agree to dialogue? After all, the Federal Government gave MEND soldiers scholarships and high paying jobs as a reward for surrender. If Boko Haram fanatics surrender, would the Govt also grant them islamic scholarships and high paying jobs?
I refuse to agree that Boko Haram is simply a religious movement. Where did they spring out of? From Mars. There is a strong political undercurrent to their actions. Maybe some elements are trying to undermine GEJ's tenure by showing his inadequacies as a leader, dunno. The bottom line still remains that some criminal elements have hijacked a benign religious movement and turned it into a malignant terrorist group. How to solve it? Fix the root, eradicate poverty in the grassroots and the ringleaders will not have any leverage over the masses. Any student of history can attest to the stranglehold of the Church over its subjects in the early years, history is repeating itself. Boko Haram or whichever splinter group that has hijacked them is exploiting the inadequacies and gaping loopholes in our system of governance. They are killing christians and muslims, we need to look beyond the religion and address the key issues. To label Islam as an aggressive religion is a debate that I refuse to engage in, simply because it does nothing to build relationships, it only causes division. Religion is the opium of the masses, us christian folk have skeletons in our closet too.
To cut the sermon short, I personally believe that GEJ needs to speak out, he cannot prevent all terrorists acts but he needs to act like he is the leader of a nation. If he has a plan or an opinion, he should voice it. Not only GEJ, all our leaders should step to the plate and act like leaders. In the days of old, kings rode into battle with their subjects, today the structure has been altered such that the rulers direct the actions of foot soldiers, but a LEADER has to dictate the pace. The President, governors, senators, reputable statesmen have to come together and act. The time for pointing fingers and trading blame is over, if we don't corral this issue now, then we are heading for the abyss. We'll simply become a target for any terrorist activity.
By the way, how do we know that the terrorist activity was not the handiwork of an international terrorist group considering that the UN office was targeted. On a final note, I have come to the conclusion that acts of terrorism (mob actions inclusive, for example the rioting in Jos and London) maybe induced by religion, ignorance or other socio-cultural or political factors, but the catalyst for unimaginable acts of destruction and violence cannot be modeled by any tangible parameter... an apt explanation? "who can understand the heart of man?" Reference the Spanish Inquisitions, the Jewish Holocaust, the insanity of the Cambodian Khmer Rouge, the Rwandan genocide...the list is endless...some acts are just inexplicable, how do you explain Hitler?
NB: Excerpts from the thoughts that flew through my head while waiting for Irene...
Friday, August 19, 2011
Idle chatter
11:44pm,
Meckzyville, Perez Drive, Newark NJ.
Kyla's birthday is tomorrow. Exactly @ this time 1year ago, I was struggling to stay awake, while trying to keep a virtual vigil as my sister went into labor far away in Pennsylvania. I ended up sleeping in the foetal position, when I woke up a couple of hours later, I was an uncle. Twas a turning point in my life. Since then I've been on a "fatherhood internship", learning how to change diapers, babysitting, feeding the baby et al. Tis a humbling experience being a father, not that I have a child of my own but i'm kinda tapping into the experience by proxy (if that means anything, lol)
Life has been a mini whirlwind. My sisters are in town (yipee), though Raekhi has headed off to Houston. Gotta start including Houston in my travel plans, so if u have a Texas zip code, hola at me when I come thru. There are still a few travel destinations scheduled before the year runs out, keeping my fingers crossed. My best friend got married last week and I was his bestman, twas a beautiful event. My weekend schedule is fully booked till mid October, can't figure out how that happened. Seems like I spend alot of time in a vicious work cycle, luckily for me, English Premiership and the NFL have commenced, so I have something to look forward to.
Idle chatter...I need to catch up on a lot of movies, itz been ages since I've been to the cinema. Been looking for my house keys for 2 weeks and during my search, i've turned my house upside down, discovering a few odd lost items in the process, won't reveal all of them here. Still have alot of targets to meet before the year runs out, running outta time. Life is gradually settling into a rhythm, dunno if I need a spark or not, tis easy to become complacent. Need to take part in a couple of mind-blowing activities before the year runs out, dunno what yet, beginning to lose my edge, lol.
Life has taught me to be thankful for everything, so I've learnt not to worry about the future, I'm always happy, not because I have all that I want or all that I need, but simply because I'm alive...Back to la vida loca.
Meckzyville, Perez Drive, Newark NJ.
Kyla's birthday is tomorrow. Exactly @ this time 1year ago, I was struggling to stay awake, while trying to keep a virtual vigil as my sister went into labor far away in Pennsylvania. I ended up sleeping in the foetal position, when I woke up a couple of hours later, I was an uncle. Twas a turning point in my life. Since then I've been on a "fatherhood internship", learning how to change diapers, babysitting, feeding the baby et al. Tis a humbling experience being a father, not that I have a child of my own but i'm kinda tapping into the experience by proxy (if that means anything, lol)
Life has been a mini whirlwind. My sisters are in town (yipee), though Raekhi has headed off to Houston. Gotta start including Houston in my travel plans, so if u have a Texas zip code, hola at me when I come thru. There are still a few travel destinations scheduled before the year runs out, keeping my fingers crossed. My best friend got married last week and I was his bestman, twas a beautiful event. My weekend schedule is fully booked till mid October, can't figure out how that happened. Seems like I spend alot of time in a vicious work cycle, luckily for me, English Premiership and the NFL have commenced, so I have something to look forward to.
Idle chatter...I need to catch up on a lot of movies, itz been ages since I've been to the cinema. Been looking for my house keys for 2 weeks and during my search, i've turned my house upside down, discovering a few odd lost items in the process, won't reveal all of them here. Still have alot of targets to meet before the year runs out, running outta time. Life is gradually settling into a rhythm, dunno if I need a spark or not, tis easy to become complacent. Need to take part in a couple of mind-blowing activities before the year runs out, dunno what yet, beginning to lose my edge, lol.
Life has taught me to be thankful for everything, so I've learnt not to worry about the future, I'm always happy, not because I have all that I want or all that I need, but simply because I'm alive...Back to la vida loca.
Friday, August 5, 2011
The Dow Jones diary...
Excerpts from a conversation I had recently...
ME: Damn, The Dow Jones Index dropped 500 points today, pretty disastrous.
WIGGY.F.BABY: I have been hearing about this Dow Jones all day, who is he by the way?
ME: Cue laughter...
I love my Wiggy! But it does raise a couple of interesting questions. It is ironical that the Dow Jones index which arguably should reflect the health or status of the American Stock market or economy should be affected by issues in the Euro zone or crisis in Africa. More puzzling is the fact that most people are completely unaware of the impact of the Dow Jones index on global issues. I'm amazed at the domino effect that is basically inherent in every facet of life, the butterfly effect is no joke. A simple statement from one man triggers chaos in the stock market, what if the dude lied and covered up the truth, the market would probably rise. Brings to mind a certain Bernie Madoff who perfected the Ponzi scheme with such mind-blowing genius that he was able to swindle even governments under the guise of "mysterious hedge funds" that were too complex for the "normal"/average man to fathom. Therein lies the crux of my debate...Information & Knowledge...
There is no knowledge without information, but information without knowledge is limited too. Combine information and knowledge and you'll get power. Bernie Madoff had the knowledge and the information and he was able to wield it to great effect. What is so complex about hedge funds that an average mind can't fathom? Why do we need investment bankers who crunch up numbers and rely on statistics when a simple natural disaster could blow up all the numbers and calculation to bits? Don't get me wrong, I respect the investment gurus and statisticians alot, they have the information and the knowledge because they spend alot of time studying mundane issues that actually have alot of impact.
I'm trying to rein in my thoughts, no point waltzing off into the murky waters of business and finance. Let me turn to art and literature to depict ideas. Odysseus was accorded the honor of being the inventor of the Trojan Horse. Whether mythical or legendary, we would never know if he got the idea from someone else, the movie "Troy" cast it as an idea he got from a soldier's innocent craft, Odysseus was a smart dude, he had a solid background on the traditions of the trojans so he used both his information and knowledge to devastating effect. Even Achilles with all his strength couldnt prevail. Fastforward years later and some dude came up with the trojan virus, polymorphic worms that masquerade as innocent files. Some other dude came up with the idea of Trojan condoms, dunno what he was thinking about, but the whole 'Trojan' name struck a chord and people liked the name. I wonder if that condom brand would have been popular if he named it 'chukwuka' condoms. lol.
Anyway, what I've come to realize is this: If you put the right information in the hands of a man with vast knowledge, the possibilites are endless. The scary thing about information is that it flies about everywhere and could trigger a stampede if twisted or transform you to a king if well used. An "idea" is always stored in the mind/head and remains proprietary to whoever conceives it, the moment that "idea" is voiced out, it morphs into "information/data" and loses its copyright, it floats around in the air, transported by sound waves to any listening or random ear and propagated by more voices, largely ignored by many. Whoever has the knowledge to act first on that floating information/voiced idea gains the patent and power associated with it...ask Mark Zuckerberg!
"This article is dedicated to my 401K plan, still in its infancy but reeling from the Dow Jones index fiasco"
ME: Damn, The Dow Jones Index dropped 500 points today, pretty disastrous.
WIGGY.F.BABY: I have been hearing about this Dow Jones all day, who is he by the way?
ME: Cue laughter...
I love my Wiggy! But it does raise a couple of interesting questions. It is ironical that the Dow Jones index which arguably should reflect the health or status of the American Stock market or economy should be affected by issues in the Euro zone or crisis in Africa. More puzzling is the fact that most people are completely unaware of the impact of the Dow Jones index on global issues. I'm amazed at the domino effect that is basically inherent in every facet of life, the butterfly effect is no joke. A simple statement from one man triggers chaos in the stock market, what if the dude lied and covered up the truth, the market would probably rise. Brings to mind a certain Bernie Madoff who perfected the Ponzi scheme with such mind-blowing genius that he was able to swindle even governments under the guise of "mysterious hedge funds" that were too complex for the "normal"/average man to fathom. Therein lies the crux of my debate...Information & Knowledge...
There is no knowledge without information, but information without knowledge is limited too. Combine information and knowledge and you'll get power. Bernie Madoff had the knowledge and the information and he was able to wield it to great effect. What is so complex about hedge funds that an average mind can't fathom? Why do we need investment bankers who crunch up numbers and rely on statistics when a simple natural disaster could blow up all the numbers and calculation to bits? Don't get me wrong, I respect the investment gurus and statisticians alot, they have the information and the knowledge because they spend alot of time studying mundane issues that actually have alot of impact.
I'm trying to rein in my thoughts, no point waltzing off into the murky waters of business and finance. Let me turn to art and literature to depict ideas. Odysseus was accorded the honor of being the inventor of the Trojan Horse. Whether mythical or legendary, we would never know if he got the idea from someone else, the movie "Troy" cast it as an idea he got from a soldier's innocent craft, Odysseus was a smart dude, he had a solid background on the traditions of the trojans so he used both his information and knowledge to devastating effect. Even Achilles with all his strength couldnt prevail. Fastforward years later and some dude came up with the trojan virus, polymorphic worms that masquerade as innocent files. Some other dude came up with the idea of Trojan condoms, dunno what he was thinking about, but the whole 'Trojan' name struck a chord and people liked the name. I wonder if that condom brand would have been popular if he named it 'chukwuka' condoms. lol.
Anyway, what I've come to realize is this: If you put the right information in the hands of a man with vast knowledge, the possibilites are endless. The scary thing about information is that it flies about everywhere and could trigger a stampede if twisted or transform you to a king if well used. An "idea" is always stored in the mind/head and remains proprietary to whoever conceives it, the moment that "idea" is voiced out, it morphs into "information/data" and loses its copyright, it floats around in the air, transported by sound waves to any listening or random ear and propagated by more voices, largely ignored by many. Whoever has the knowledge to act first on that floating information/voiced idea gains the patent and power associated with it...ask Mark Zuckerberg!
"This article is dedicated to my 401K plan, still in its infancy but reeling from the Dow Jones index fiasco"
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Ramone (page 1)
The first step is always the hardest. Remember the first scenes of some of the epic movies you’ve watched over the years? Quentin Tarantino’s “Reservoir Dogs”… Visualize the entourage sitting at a random diner, all clad in black suits, debating the rationale behind the culture of tipping. Ridley Scott’s “Gladiator”… Maximus primed for battle against the hordes of barbarian savages, the air tinged with the tension of approaching violence. Christopher Nolan’s “Inception”… the headlong tumble into a multilayered dream ushering in the madness that was soon to follow. There is always something about the beginning that draws you in, pushing you past the stages of inertia. The right word, the right picture, the right scene, to depict the moment, the ultimate quest for that brief spark of literary genius to capture the reader or viewer’s attention has always been a stumbling block.
Today was no different; his eyes stared blankly into space, lost in the timeless limbo of a wandering mind, seeking the glimmer of a spark or distant fire to begin his book. The ritual never changed and he never seemed to notice or mind either. He was sprawled in bed, his laptop beside him on the crumpled sheets. The shades were always drawn, but little slices of sunlight still made it through, bathing the room in soft glows. An urban poster of a black man with a trumpet hung askew on the wall above his head. Closer inspection revealed it to be a Justin Bua artwork. There were few similar posters scattered around, some framed, and others still in the tubes they were shipped with.
Recognition slowly crept back into his eyes; as usual his foray into the boundless world of imagination had proved fruitless. He glanced around the room and was struck by the organized chaos and randomness of the décor, not typical of an aspiring writer; it was more or less a futile attempt at style that fell way short. He stared at the cursor blinking on his laptop screen and he realized that he still hadn’t typed any words. It hadn’t always been like this, for some odd reason he couldn’t remember when things changed or the genesis of his mental fugue state. All he could remember was going to bed one night and then waking up to realize that 2 days had passed. To worsen issues, he had gone to bed in a t-shirt but he woke up fully dressed with a raging hangover. The first time was 6 months ago and it scared the daylights out of him, but since then, there had been multiple episodes so he simply resigned himself to the rhythm of chaos.
He grudgingly pushed himself out of bed, and the instance his feet hit the floor, the perfect intro hit him hard…”What happens to a dream deferred…”
Meet Ramone, the writer…
To be continued…
Today was no different; his eyes stared blankly into space, lost in the timeless limbo of a wandering mind, seeking the glimmer of a spark or distant fire to begin his book. The ritual never changed and he never seemed to notice or mind either. He was sprawled in bed, his laptop beside him on the crumpled sheets. The shades were always drawn, but little slices of sunlight still made it through, bathing the room in soft glows. An urban poster of a black man with a trumpet hung askew on the wall above his head. Closer inspection revealed it to be a Justin Bua artwork. There were few similar posters scattered around, some framed, and others still in the tubes they were shipped with.
Recognition slowly crept back into his eyes; as usual his foray into the boundless world of imagination had proved fruitless. He glanced around the room and was struck by the organized chaos and randomness of the décor, not typical of an aspiring writer; it was more or less a futile attempt at style that fell way short. He stared at the cursor blinking on his laptop screen and he realized that he still hadn’t typed any words. It hadn’t always been like this, for some odd reason he couldn’t remember when things changed or the genesis of his mental fugue state. All he could remember was going to bed one night and then waking up to realize that 2 days had passed. To worsen issues, he had gone to bed in a t-shirt but he woke up fully dressed with a raging hangover. The first time was 6 months ago and it scared the daylights out of him, but since then, there had been multiple episodes so he simply resigned himself to the rhythm of chaos.
He grudgingly pushed himself out of bed, and the instance his feet hit the floor, the perfect intro hit him hard…”What happens to a dream deferred…”
Meet Ramone, the writer…
To be continued…
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