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Patriots Needed

2012 has gone with all things good and bad. One of the worst episodes of 2012 had to be Aluu 4. This is not because 4 young men were cut down in their prime: we had Boko Haram kill hundreds of innocent Nigerians and Dana airline cut short the dreams of 163 very promising folks and their surviving families. Aluu 4 was the tolling bell that signaled our diminishing humanity, because of the folks who watched and did nothing. Dozens of people were complicit in a gruesome lynching just by their presence and inaction.

In 1955, Albert Einstein said –“The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing”.  I never could bring myself to watch that YouTube video. But I sometimes think of the guy who filmed it. What was his motive? Did he do it to expose the murders or was he just collecting a trophy? What of those who were too afraid to either prevent it or to go call the police?

In the same vein, for fifty odd years we have watched a plundering mob of greedy politicians, military rulers and thieving government officials turn this country from a fledgling promised land into a failed state despite her many human and natural endowments. That is the real Aluucase for me. I see that gory incident as a metaphor for the siddon look citizens. The ones too afraid to, even “whistle blow”, not to talk of speaking out or taking action.

At this point I would like to introduce our guest writer for today. I present Dr. Bawo Okonedo. “Patriots Needed” is an excerpt from a yet to be released literary offering from this young doctor’s creative chest.
When you read this story, think of Albert Einstein’s quote and relate it to our dear country, with you in the middle. It is time to act!
SAN
PATRIOTS NEEDED
Ulli turned the bend along a dusty bush track that spilled into the plain that lay beside the road leading to that temperate city of statuesque rocks, Jos. But here was Kabin Nauda. He would find rest for the night. However, as he lifted his eyes from the path and emerged into the plains, they were greeted by a disturbing sight. A uniformed man lifted his gun and crashed its butt on the head of another man who appeared to half kneel, half crouch helplessly on the ground.  He could see, it seemed, the man’s head had immediately following that blow, colored red. He could hear the gruff voices of the assailant’s colleagues and the helpless wails of the victim even from the distance. The disparity between both set of voices was clear. One reeked of unbridled power; the other, untrammeled fear and pain. Ulli quickened his steps to a half-run, almost as involuntarily as his heartbeat which was now galloping and his mouth which was dry. As he drew close, the obvious, disturbing as it were, jumped at him: people were gathered and watching this spectacle almost calmly, almost with the decorum of a theatre audience. As he reached the scene, he noticed two vehicles: one army green van apparently belonging to the soldiers, the other a mini truck. The van had sustained a nasty gash in its fender. It told half the story. Ulli was soon to learn the full version: the driver of the mini truck was not quick enough to give way to the military van which then inadvertently rammed into the tougher mini truck, lacerating its own fender in the process.
 ‘You go die today!’
 ‘Abeg na, officer. Na my fault, abeg forgive me, nor vex!’
Thud, thud, thud!! The blows rained in quick succession efficiently ripping flesh apart and divesting skin off bone with faucets of blood turning to rivulets, to be followed by plaintive wails and calls for help and mercy. None came. The sands on which the victim crouched, reminiscent of a medieval blood sports or torture arena, were bespattered with his own blood. A few faces grimaced at the horror and shifted uneasily, but not a single voice rose in protest.
Ulli was not going to let this continue. His heart was charging like a mad horse, his breath was raspy and labored from the effort it took to silence reason. That Reason that preaches the tact of the coward, that likes to use the word ‘discretion,’ and discredits unhesitant action as ‘rash’. That Reason that placates naked conscience with the small speech of self preservation and assuages the remnant of guilt with the line: ‘there was nothing you could do’ or better still: ‘ you didn’t have a choice.’ That delusory clot of Reason that clogs the arteries of honor and chokes the veins of truth paralyzing our power to aspire to bold decision in the face of adversity. He who fears for his life will lose it! Maybe not today…but something dies within. When injustice and oppression is witnessed unrebuked, unchastised, within something dies. When no tongue is lifted in dissent, no saliva is spat out in outrage and repudiation, when no fingers are poked in accusation of evil; something dies in our collective psyche as a society and what is left of our individual innocence…almost like a dieback of our ‘peripheral’ values. It slowly invades the core though, like a fungating mass…
So pushing through immobilized bodies rooted to the spot by cowardice and the unsound reason of fear, Ulli worked his way to the front, facing the soldiers and the persecuted. “Stop! He is a human being; you have no right to do this!” The hot February air froze! Silence! Now comes that moment when uncertainty hangs in the air and everyone holds his/her breath in deference to the significance of the moment awaiting what it would birth; hoping for the best, expecting the catastrophic. Silence! The lead persecutor gave Ulli a bloodcurdling glare which metamorphosed into sheer disdain. He eyed Ulli from crown to slippers (the crowd too), the way Goliath would eye David. Obviously dressed in typical nomadic Fulani fashion, Ulli cut the appearance of an ‘aboki’ and a personality which was discordant with his appearance, especially for the fact that he worded his rebuke in perfect English.
‘You say what?!’
‘Yes leave the man…’
The rest of the sentence was snatched off Ulli’s lips with a fearsome blow that nearly seemed to divorce his head from his shoulders. His mouth and cheeks were ripped raw. The pain that followed dithered a moment as if its intensity was beyond Ulli’s sensory threshold, before it rushed at him like an overwhelming hurricane. He could feel warm wetness all over his face and that he was lying in the sun baked dust. He knew it was blood and he knew more blows would follow. But the hitherto stupefied crowd sprang to life like a captive animal which had ruptured its bonds. A single unified organism. They charged the soldiers who jumped in their van and fled. From the haze of blood, dust and the fuzziness of a concussed brain, Ulli glimpsed the first victim, his own wounds gaping in half a dozen places, spring to his side, crying and calling for aid. Disoriented, he wondered what the bother was about. Clutching his calico rucksack, he saw bright lights dancing in the periphery of his vision until slowly…like falling stage curtains, in the background of cursing and shouting of a hitherto docile, now irate crowd bent on retribution, they faded away.

Dr. Bawo Okonedo works as a medical doctor in Delta State, Nigeria

2

Album Review: Ill Bliss – Oga Boss

Ill Bliss – Oga Boss (Hip-Hop / Rap – Nov 2012) 

Here’s the first in a series of home grown “glocal content” music and book reviews. This feature is on Ill Bliss’ latest album – Oga Boss.

If you like Naija jams and east coast hip hop as much as I do, you’ll find Oga Boss from Ill Bliss to be an excellent album. A friend had shared the video of Anam Achi Kwanu with me from YouTube and that never stopped ringing in my head. So, one hot Lagos day in traffic a vendor straight from my dreams flashed the Oga Boss album in my face and I copped it fast! Slamming beats, strong clear lyrics, and the best Igbo lyrics on music I have ever heard make this album deserve its car stereo repeat mode status. While Anam Achi Kwanu has one of the best hooks on the album, collabos with Phyno, Naeto C, Ice Prince,  Banky W, Chidinma and Timaya are also notable. There’s no skipping any song here guys. I promise you. If I had to pick two songs, they will have to be Anam Achi Kwanu and Hustlers footsteps. Just when I was getting used to sophomore albums being bland, vacuous and often a waste of N150, Ill Bliss comes and makes me a believer again.
Here’s a verse from track 2 – “illyminate“:
“Abeg I beg no dirty my shirt
E be like say some of them don forget
Apply the pressure, hook them for neck
No air for your windpipe, you go kpai o!”
The album comes out from Capital HIll Music / The Goretti Company and the songs are produced by – Suspect, Phyno, Legendury Beatz, XYZ, Slivastone, Wizboyy, Wazbeat & Del B. 
Ill Bliss, that Ibo boy, has definitely arrived and he is taking no prisoners with Oga Boss. Buy it, roll up your windows and jam it loud…that’s what this one deserves.
See link to Anam Achi Kwanu here
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yly8LlJRWx8&list=PL3F280FF3B22C6D23
Share your opinion of the album and your favorite tunes from it here.

SAN
1

There is a Country – Lessons From the Motherland


Hello Everyone. Today is guest writer’s day. Recently a friend shared a post with me on Facebook on a young man’s story of being faced with a situation where he was basically invited by a politician to “come and chop” as a means of bettering his lot. There was also an attempt to throw in tribal sentiment and turn him against his current colleagues, friends and neighbors of another tribe. His tale is not only compelling, I find it also to be an example of the kind of behavior which will change this country one person at a time. I remain inspired by this narration and re-assured that there are some out there who are determined not to contribute to the already immense rot in the polity.
I promise that Kaycee Obijiaku’s experience will touch you in a positive way. The style of the narrative is also unique and very effective.
Comments are welcome.
SAN
THERE IS A COUNTRY… LESSONS FROM THE MOTHERLAND
By Kaycee Obijiaku 
Princess Isabelle:   The king desires peace.
William Wallace:     Longshanks desires peace?
Princess Isabelle: He declares it to me, I swear it. He proposes that you withdraw your attack. In return he grants you title, estates, and this chest of gold which I am to pay to you personally.
William Wallace:     A lordship and titles. Gold. That I should become Judas?
Princess Isabelle:   Peace is made in such ways.
William Wallace:    Slaves are made in such ways!
(From the movie “Brave heart”)
If you are not confused…
We all are prisoners of conscience. Some may have made an ingenuous albeit perverted effort to escape this captivity, but ultimately, such warped effort will fail because it is beyond the reprobate to find the bars of this cage. I will share a story with you.
If you are not confused…
On the 17th December 2012, upon the invitation of a serving Commissioner, I travelled to a State in Eastern Nigeria. I had an inkling that the purpose of this invitation was to discuss the possibility of an appointment in the State’s public service, besides this, I had no further knowledge of what to expect. As I anticipated, the reason for this invitation was simple: the Commissioner wanted me to work in a new department that had been created within his Ministry. According to the Commissioner, this new position would give me an opportunity for self-enrichment and a chance to stake a claim to the wealth of the state. I promised to consider his offer and revert to him shortly. The next day, the sum of N250k was paid into my bank account. According to the Special Assistant to the Commissioner, the money was the Commissioner’s way of saying “thank you” for honouring his invitation. There is probably more where that came from. I have deliberated on this lucrative job offer and I have reached a decision. My decision is based on some factors which are not farfetched…I am a Nigerian, I am broke and I desire a better living condition. My decision shall be communicated to the Commissioner via this note, which you now read. I have omitted the Commissioner’s name, portfolio and state. At the end of this write-up, you may begin to understand the reasons behind my decision. In the event that this write-up leaves you confused, then do not worry; you are on the right path.
If you are not confused…
What have you done to bring heaven into this hell? In the past few weeks, a series of events have transpired and with hindsight, I understand better the essence of these happenings and the inherent lessons thereto. I do not believe in coincidence. There is a reason for every occurrence and sometimes, one just needs to be tuned to a higher frequency to be able to decipher the story behind the story. Some weeks ago, I was invited for a conference organized for people of Ibo origin. The aim of the conference was to create avenues geared towards the advancement of the Ibo nation. Although the civil war is long over, it remained imperative that the Ibo man does not forget his origin and never lose his voice. The conference was geared towards promoting awareness on the need to continually strive to ensure that the Ibos had a place on the national stage and remain relevant in the scheme of things. I agree that it is important that we never forget why the champions of Biafra fought and the standards they upheld. I have my personal ideals, which shape my thought pattern and my actions, and I am very much convinced that secession is never the solution to the Nigerian problem. While I admired what the organizers of this conference aimed to achieve, I was also wary of any hint of insurgence or incitement to do wrong; there was none. It was simply a forum to keep the awareness alive. We left the conference each resolving to ensure improvement in our daily affairs and lead exemplary lifestyles within our own sphere of influence. It was at this Conference I met the Commissioner.
If you are not confused…
Is it possible for one idea to change the world? Shortly after the conference, an Ibo acquaintance that was also present sent me a video of a documentary on the Biafra War produced by the BBC. When I was done watching this documentary, the anguish and reality of the carnage dawned on me. May we never experience war again. It wasn’t long before I started feeling this renewed warmness towards my motherland and I longed to visit eastern Nigeria again. When the Commissioner’s invitation came, I was thrilled and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to reconnect with the motherland. In fact I longed for an opportunity to contribute my own quota towards the progress of the land of the east. And it was with this high hopes and aspirations that I took the morning flight to the east.
If you are not confused…
When my flight landed in eastern Nigeria, I was horror struck. Was I still in Nigeria? Poverty, filth and confusion permeated the entire environment. I was appalled by the living conditions of my bewildered tribesmen. Scenes from the documentary I had watched kept flashing through my mind. Was there still a war going on? I quickly got a cab to transport me to the Commissioner’s office. On arrival at the office complex of the ministry, which the said Commissioner headed, I was greeted by an even greater shock. See, I work with as a civil servant with the Lagos State government and I know the general conditions one is likely to meet in government offices but even this pre-conceived idea of the general condition of government offices couldn’t have prepared me for the heartbreak that I witnessed. Filthy, disorganized and absent of any form of dignity or humanity. And in year 2012 when the Personal Computer is getting smaller and more advanced, I saw typewriters. A dilapidated structure full of dead appliances left a lot to be desired. The condition of the civil servants was even worse. Diseased, filthy and disoriented faces greeted me. Surprisingly, this unfortunate lot seemed content with their fate. The official bus of the ministry was worse than the commercial buses that ply Lagos roads. I was ushered into the Commissioner’s officer and then I was back in civilization. That such state of the art office could exist in the midst of such lack is a testimony to the Nigerian condition. Split AC, flat screen TV, mahogany desk, wine cabinet, decent lighting. His official car was a Toyota Prado SUV.
If you are not confused…
He told me how impressed he was when he had a discussion with me and how he wanted young smart men of Ibo origin to come to the east and be a part of the emerging revolution. Interesting. He explained to me that the job I was been offered came with an official car, an apartment, a good salary and allowances. He was always quick to add that the job position was a goldmine and I could make so much more. I still remember the look of disgust in his face when in response to his question; I replied that I had not started developing any landed property of my own. He assured me that I could make enough money to develop my own property if I relocated to the state. He had this glint in his eyes when he excitedly advised me to resign my appointment in the Lagos state civil service where in his opinion, the prevalent tribalism would stiffen my growth and prevent me from making big money. He spoke with so much disdain for the Yorubas and encouraged me not to waste my time serving Yorubas when I could come over to the east and make much money. I thanked him for his most generous offer and I promised to get back to him soon. The next day, the sum of N250k hit my already empty account.
If you are not confused…
Now, I am a Nigerian, I am broke and I desire a better living condition. Based on these premises, I humbly reject this job offer. Are you confused?
If you are not confused…
A war of people is deadlier than a war of Kings. We begin to die when we cease to live for what is right and when we have so deadened our conscience that dishonesty and unjust enrichment doesn’t faze us, then we have turned from men to something darker. And if with such education, exposure and responsibility, this Commissioner can still possess the mentality he portrayed, then I am ashamed to call myself an Ibo man. A man who feeds off his fellow men is no longer a man, he is a wild beast and he should be treated as such. When you become so comfortable as to live in such affluence in the midst of such poverty, then you have become a disease, a cancer that does not belong to the body of reasonable men, and your fate is to be severed, condemned to be a pariah, a plague, and a curse. The enemy we battled against when our forebears boldly declared Biafra is no more, the enemy of present day Biafra lies within Biafra. That a man entrusted to be a leader amongst men should prefer to rape his people and recruit young men to join in this feast of hell is testimony to a malady, a strange disease that has overtaken our national consciousness and left us as vampires, hungry for the blood of others. The enemy of the Ibo man is the Ibo man and by extension, the enemy of Nigeria is within Nigeria.
I remember now what the people of eastern Nigeria witnessed during the civil war and all their misfortune pales beside what the Ibo man suffers today. During the war, the enemy could be identified and it was plain for all to see that we were indeed at war. Today, the enemy is faceless, he is within our household, and while our bodies and minds continue to be ravaged by the evils perpetuated by these powers in high places, we have learnt the hopeless response of suffering and smiling and kept blind faith in political processes that continually churn out spawns of perdition: We are in peace time. But if we agree it is a time of peace, then why are the bombs going off? Why are people being kidnapped daily, what’s responsible for the gun duels and armed conflicts? Why are people emigrating? Why is every household and community now responsible for its own security and survival? Children get killed in Newton by a known assailant and the United states is thrown into a time of national mourning and the media is agog with the gory tale, there are already talks of impending stricter gun control measures and security in schools but Nigeria lost over 40 students in Adamawa in an Al Capone Valentine day style massacre and we do not even remember their names. It is simply another day in Nigeria. Time of war? No it is a time of peace. Are you confused already? If you are, then be easy, you get me. “…He killed them, shedding their blood in peacetime as if in battle, and with that blood he stained the belt around his waist and the sandals on his feet. Deal with him according to your wisdom, but do not let his gray head go down to the grave in peace”
If you are not confused…
All that talk of Massob, Biafra and all? To what end? Where is the marginalization? Who is marginalizing whom? You marginalize your own people and you point accusing fingers at another? I have lived in Lagos my entire life amongst the Yorubas and I work with the Lagos state government. There has never been an occasion where I felt marginalized or shortchanged based on my tribe. Some of the most wonderful people I know are Yorubas.
If you are not confused…
The spirit of tribalism and all its inherent evils is merely a diversion by wicked men to channel the purported cause of their cursed existence at the doorstep of another. If there’s one thing I learnt from my trip to eastern Nigeria, it is simple; the madness called Nigeria does not derive her madness from tribal differences, those who preach tribe are either confused or intend to create a diversion, the filth permeates every tribe and every sphere of society.
If you are not confused…
And because an able bodied Nigerian such as myself can be hungry, broke and looking for better living conditions, I shall not take such a job offer and lend my assistance to the acts that will only further make of Nigeria a failed system and a synergy that wouldn’t work. I shall rather continue to contribute in whatever way towards the salvaging of the nation and the preaching of the gospel of change, which I so much desire. And I know that one day, based on this gospel and the uniting of like minds, we shall have a change. Let’s have another civil war! This war shall not be a war of tribes, but it shall be a quest to secede from a corrupt Nigeria and form a new Nigeria void of a corrupt system. We shall not fight this war with guns and bombs; we shall fight this with our lifestyle and our minds. We shall be bold enough to say no to corruption and we shall drag every erring leader before the people’s court and sentence accordingly.  Just as the flag and emblem of Biafra was half of a yellow sun representing a rising sun; this new movement shall offer a new dawn and a new deal.  This is my strategy, this is how I intend to thrive. A country is not a chattel; it is not an extension of one man’s wallet. My survival is what I stand for when standing is most difficult. Before the people, let it be noted in my decision here that this is how I intend to live my life.
If you are not confused…
Must one go on to live that a nation may die? I know we cannot have a perfect world, on the contrary, I know that the traces of corruption may always be amongst us. True the troubles of the world are perpetual, but by virtue of that, am I supposed to turn my back and live in self-ordained ignorance?
If you are not confused…
Can it be done? Can we stay liberated from corruption? I believe it can be done. N250k would have meant a lot to me especially during the yuletide period but it meant more for me to pass a stronger message across to Mr. Commissioner. Some of us cannot be bought with money. You can train a Dog with food, you can tame a man with money, but to think you can put a price tag on my conscience? You insult me. You insult me. You insult me. I can work for any state government, it wouldn’t be a big problem leaving Lagos state but the motivating factor must never be the urge to make easy and corrupt money. I have been working since 2008 and I have never made a dishonest penny in my life; I do not intend to start now. I can live a good life, I can cause a change, I can shun corruption and I can be the change I intend to see. Henceforth, being an Ibo man shall simply be for anthropological and cultural purposes. It shall never be for any other purpose. I am first of all a Nigerian before any other thing. My allegiance to my God, my nation and my family shall come far above allegiance to tribe. Biafra died in 1970, may it remain dead and buried and may we forge ahead with the difficult task of building a better Nigeria. It can be done.
If you are not confused…
The man who stands by and says nothing, when the peril of his government is discussed, can be misunderstood. If not hindered, he is sure to help the enemy. What are you doing to cause a change? Are you the kind who wouldn’t think twice before making dishonest money? And after you have made the money, what else? It is the tragedy of existence to think that the money you make determines how well a life you live. Yours is a cheap life if it can be reduced to currency. A time should come when stealing shall become a thing of disgrace in our nation, when dishonest men would resign their appointment from public office out of shame, a time when the system will work so well that it would be difficult to make a mess of things. The era of procrastination, of half-measures, of soothing and baffling expedients, of delays, is coming to its close. In its place we are entering a period of consequences.
If you are not confused…
The reasons for the events of the past few weeks are clearer to me now. The fight for Biafra wasn’t a fight between tribes, it was a fight against injustice and man’s inhumanity to man and while my tribe lost, I have learnt a lesson from those events. You should too. The coming war shall be the war of the mind; the fight of wills, how strong is your will to do right? Would survival instinct make you do wrong? Or would the instinct to survive make you decide to do right? For the sake of posterity and for the sake of your nation, for the sake of your own soul and your own happiness.
If you are not confused…
I shall not be bought, I shall not sell my soul and in every way I can, through the power of the written word and through an exemplary lifestyle, I shall continue to strive to do well. I have purposed in my heart never to be a part of the problem. I shall never make a dishonest penny in my life, I shall never cut corners and I shall always endeavor to do right. A system where corruption is enthroned will make monsters of men. It will make heroes of thieves and it shall so happen that men who steal money and generously share this ill-gotten wealth would be convinced that they are helping people and they are doing well. Such a system will not know what to do with you. It will deceive you into believing that you are saving lives even as you destroy your nation. You will accept its lies and all the while your hands will be stained with the worst of offences until your mind becomes divided into warring factions and a hitherto pure heart will soon know suffering far beyond your worst nightmares.
If you are not confused…
It isn’t enough to preach change, pray for change or hope for change, you must be the change you desire to see. In the few years I have served with the Lagos State Government, I have put in my best effort and I have done my work diligently. I have never earned a dishonest penny and I have never had any reason to regret my stand. My hard work has ensured that I am able to get by. Recently, based purely on diligence and dedication to work, I was transferred to a parastatal under Lagos state and I resume work there by January. This promotion was not lobbied for and neither do I plan to go and enrich myself in this new office, far be it from me. The same dedication and exemplary lifestyle I have shown in the Lagos state ministry of justice is also what I intend to portray in my new office. It can be done and I intend to do it. Not everyone can make a difference, I agree. However, for me, the choice to lead an ordinary life is no longer an option. I am the change.
I have sent a copy of this write-up to the Commissioner via email. I expect him to be a little upset, but then my story just had to be told. And I have told my story. If there’s is still a job opening in eastern Nigeria that would enable me impart lives and play my part in nation building without glorifying a corrupt system then I just might consider the offer. My solace remains in the fact that I am not alone and every now and then I see glimpses of hope and restoration that will come. God will not let our efforts be in vain….
If you are not confused…
I requested the S.A to the Commissioner to send me his account number; I gave him the impression that I would explain to him later what the money I was paying into his account was for. I have forwarded the sum of N250k into his account and I have mailed this write-up to the Commissioner and him. I called him to tell him that the money belongs to the people of that state and it should be returned thereto. I reject the offer because I am a Nigerian, because I am broke, and because I desire a better living condition. In 2015 we shall approach the polls; may we start the process of change already?
And only wise men will understand…tonight I go home with an empty bank account, I shall sleep soundly, I am happy, I am free.
If you are not confused…then you do not understand what is going on.
(This one is for Eno-Abasi: kindred spirit and “Rocket Scientist” and without whom the inspiration to write this wouldn’t have come. We have a long road ahead, we have taken the first steps in the right direction, and all will be well)
By Kaycee Obijiaku on Friday, December 21, 2012



1

Sandy Hook Elementary – The Fire Next Time

 

sandy-hook-victims11-1215
Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting victims. Source: Bay9 News.

Since 1966 when 25-year-old ex-marine, Charles Whitman, shot 13 people dead at a University of Texas campus, there’s been over 107 gun related fatalities till date in US schools. Victims have ranged from elementary school infants and toddlers to middle-aged teachers and school staff. The figures above do not include 38 elementary school students and teachers that were bombed to death by Andrew Kehoe in Bath Township, Michigan, in 1927.

The most recent incident happened in Sandy Hook elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut, on December 14, 2012. Adam Lanza, 20, killed his mother at home in an upper class neighborhood and then proceeded to the school where she taught elementary students, where he gunned down 27 kids aged 5-10, the school principal, some teachers and finally turned the gun on himself. Police investigations to determine the motive and root cause are ongoing. Historically, the killers are mostly teens and adolescents who are usually disillusioned and have a personality disorder. Some of them have been loners who often suffered abuse and bullying while growing up. The ease with which automatic weapons are procured in the US gives these murderers a violent opportunity to express themselves by causing pain and anguish to the larger community thereby bringing attention to them. Just watching the victims families speak and recant their grief and sorrow on television is a gut wrenching experience in itself.

At this point I would like to say a prayer for the families who lost loved ones to this senseless violence. Dear God, please comfort them and make them able to overcome their grief. I pray they find a way to move on with their lives in the midst of obvious heartbreak and shattered dreams.

 
Adam Lanza – Sandy Hook Elementary School shooter 

At the scene of the crime, police found a Bushmaster .33 caliber semi-automatic rifle – the chief murder weapon, a Glock 10 mm pistol and a Sig Sauer 9mm handgun by the killer’s corpse. The three weapons were registered to his mother, who was his first victim. The medical examiner has said that some of the victims were shot twice at close range. Who shoots a 5yr old at point blank range? This was a rampage that could only have been carried out by a deranged monster.  Two key ingredients here seem to be the killer’s mental health and the preponderance of guns in the US society – fueled by obsolete gun control legislation.

 
Weapons used by the killer

The right to keep and bear arms, which has been enshrined in the 2nd amendment of the US Bill of Rights since 1791, is one very polarizing factor in almost every US political debate and a very touchy area during elections. Doctor-patient confidentiality also prevents medical psychologists from raising an alarm to law enforcement on the mental conditions and unique behavior patterns of their patients and the potential consequences to the society. While democrats have historically called for gun control reforms, they have been unable to overcome the National Rifle Association (NRA) and the Republican Party (GOP), who have made this the pivot of their politics. In 2008/2009, the US Supreme Court finally stripped the remaining minimal powers from the government on gun control.

The United States has 89 guns per 100 people. That is an estimated 270 million guns in the hands of US civilians. That’s more than the combined populations of Germany, France, Italy and the United Kingdom! Guns shoot more than 100, 000 people in the US annually. These are staggering statistics. I was shocked when a colleague of mine told me how he had 30 guns in his shed at home in the US.

An emotional President Obama

Every parent expects to drop off their kids at school and return at the end of the school day to pick them up, knowing they will be safe and well cared for. At worst your child might suffer a playground related injury. This spate of mass school shootings brings another concern into the mix. President Obama showed a lot of emotion on TV while addressing the nation on this latest incident. It remains to be seen whether POTUS and the Democrats will risk their political goodwill, fighting this malaise by taking on the NRA and the GOP with the aim of ensuring gun control regulations that, at least prevent folks like Adam Lanza from perpetrating the next mayhem.

 

SAN

4

Bucket List

 

bucketlist (1)
Image: courtesy of imgc.allpostersimages.com
Anyone who has ever had a near death experience always comes out of it valuing life a lot more. I was recently involved in a car crash, and though I came out physically unscathed, I passed out and only came to after several hours – thank God. The little things in life now matter to me much more than before. 
 
I had previously never thought of a bucket list. That’s far too morbid for someone in my age gap. However, the day after my car crash, I decided to make a small list of things within my immediate reach that I had always wanted to do, but postponed out of either laziness or lack of commitment. Some of them are really easy things. Here goes in no particular order:
 
1.    Spend more time with my son – he’s 2 yrs old now
2.    Take my wife out to a new place every month
3.    Visit everyone I know who had a new baby
4.    Write more
5.    Spend less of my dedicated vacation time doing work for my employers
6.    Use my gym membership and join my local biking club
7.    Get closer to God and pray with my family every night
8.    Read all the books in my personal library
9.    Fix my study – it’s in a mess right now
10. Execute my retirement plan
11. Drive the Garden Route with my family
 
I have come to find out that not all of them are as easy as I originally thought. My study is still less than 20% cleared and I still have not taken my wife to “a new place”. I guess the refrain here is that even little things sometimes are difficult to accomplish and may need more time than you thought. So start now. Not all of us would have the resources and dedicated time Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman had in the 2007 movie with the same title as this post. 
 
While religion teaches us that we are just passing through this world to an eternal place of rest and happiness, it also teaches us that we are here for a reason. As you toil and scrape in trying to eke out a living, you need to take some time to ponder what else you should be doing and what resources or opportunities you are letting go to waste. You need to be happy in this world too. Are you the “too religious” type? Ok, pretend the happiness is practice for the hereafter.
 
Life was meant to be lived simply. Serve your God, love your neighbor and take care of yourself.
 
I watched a Ted Talk recently, titled “Before I die”. The ease with which folks expressed their one wish just touched me. Makes you really wonder why you are living such a complicated life. How do you feel knowing that you have probably accomplished the one thing that someone else calls that thing they would like to do before they die? Someone actually listed buying a Macbook as theirs, and another just wanted to plant a tree…
 
Click here for link to “Before I die” Ted talk.
 
This blog post was not meant to make you depressed but to encourage you to live life more fully and value the little things.
 
So what are the short to long term stuff in your bucket list? Please share with us by posting a comment here.
SAN
 

 

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Nigerian Woman Now Richer Than Oprah


We now have the distinction of having the richest black man and woman in the world coming from Nigeria. This is not exactly front page news here, and is by no means the subject of the free readers’ union at my local vendor or beer parlor arguments at Ekiyor’s Splash. Chelsea dropping out of the Champions league is still trending.  However it seems to have gotten the goat of foreign commentators. I read this story on huffingtonpost.com earlier today, and it was clear what the world view is of rich Nigerians from the other side of Delta Air Lines. It was a mixture of the usual ignorance of all things foreign, perceptions of how money is made in Nigeria, affirmation of our corrupt nation status, and an open field for certain elements of “culture wars”.  It was based on an article from Genevieve magazine which had featured Mrs. Folorunso Alakija on its front cover.
While the article was as shallow and vain as one would expect, by far the biscuit takers were the commentators. “Huff Post” is usually a state of the nation type of politico founded by Arianna Huffington, with a strong slant toward the US liberals.  You can imagine the shock her readers got when they saw an article alleging that an African woman was now several hundred million dollars richer than Oprah. Trust them to bring in Malaria and African poverty, Obama taxes, the US elections, war on terrorism, etc., into the mix.
I thought it rather ill-advised that this woman should come out to the public in this manner. This in a season when our government is seeking foreign assistance to combat flood and offer relief to displaced Nigerians… But then again, somebody who made billions definitely has more brains than me, right? I thoroughly enjoyed reading the commentaries. It was a confirmation all over again of my opinion of the point of view of the West.  There were also some Nigerian posters defending, showing aloofness and generally making it a case of you against us. Please read the article (see link below) and make your own judgment. Comments are welcome.
Click here for link to Huffington Post article.  

SAN

1

An Ode to Brother Edwin

 

silhouette man
Image source: Randall Scholten
When I heard of Edwin’s unfortunate and untimely passing, I was not only shocked but found myself reflecting on the events of two weeks ago. I was almost in those same shoes. His was at the hands of gunmen; mine would have been blamed on a turbo charged German plus a fatigued sleep deprived Nigerian.
 
Time now is 11.30PM. I cut a 5″ Punch Coronation and sit on the steps of my present hostel dwellings, with a neo soul play list thumping in my ears. I throw myself into deep thought while gazing at the massive steel structures with dotted lights and various fuming towers in the background. With all the running around on my bike during the day, I am not even feeling sleepy. Not even after my usual Maltina and Jack Daniels mix. I can still hear G, (my wife) asking me “what happened? This was on her birthday too.  I won’t confuse you further with the very strange sequence of events. Root cause seemed to be: no system in place to prevent victim from the phenomena of aimless striving, self delusion, periodic excesses, and …..one of the immediate causes was normalization of deviation.
 
Back to Edwin. He was in his early forties, 6ft, dark and solid looking. By most parameters, he obviously had it made. A man’s man. He was high up on the ladder at work, a husband and father. I also knew his elder brother who passed on two years earlier. We all worked at the same farm, producing the black gold that moved ours and several economies all over the world. The last time I saw Edwin was in an airplane. He looked sharp as usual in a Fred Perry polo, Gucci loafers and his trademark dimpled white toothed smile. He was a clear star amongst his peers at work. Edwin was not only going places, he was at a spot that a lot of folks before him would consider the perfect retirement point. The Company hoped he would be one of those to inspire the next generation to reach heights in performance that would assure her of continued profitability and sustainable growth…..Oh Edwin! He was said to have been shot while returning from one of those Lagos nights out on the town. We’ve all been there. Some of us are there even now…
 
Tonight is “fellowship” night for some here. I can hear their supplications at the short break that is the transition between Donnel Jones and D’Angelo in my headphones…teary eyed not just because of Edwin but remembering how close I came to being a statistic on the 24th. I remember G asking me “Why?” I had no answers. Just tears of regret. I don’t know why, but I was enormously sorry. When you are in this kind of place, a lot of things flash through your mind. I recall the botched life insurance policy only a few weeks, nay, days before my “incident”. I also remember MC Ebo, our secondary school principal who tried to imbue life’s truths in us. His poem (actually Edgar Guest’s) “Myself”, is a testimonial of all that was and is still the solution to this madness. Why? How? And what? People say there’s nothing in this world. I disagree. There is G, Ayo, my wonderful family and friends and 40 yrs worth of interactions and experiences that matter. And YES, there is my Lord and Savior Jesus. They all expect so much from me and would be deeply grieved at an early passing with dreams unfulfilled.

Dear friend, while it may not always be in your hands, please do your utmost best to stay safe.
We need you. They need you.
RIP Sir.

SAN
4

Myself

So I thought it fitting to open this blog with a poem that greatly influenced me while growing up as a late teen in high school. Our principal introduced it to my mates and me at the time. God bless him.
In recent times I have been through situations that have begged the question: Man, do you know thyself? So here goes. Enjoy.
Myself – Edgar Guest
I have to live with myself, and so,
I want to be fit for myself to know;
I want to be able as days go by,
Always to look myself straight in the eye;

I don’t want to stand with the setting sun
And hate myself for the things I’ve done.
I don’t want to keep on a closet shelf
A lot of secrets about myself,
And fool myself as I come and go
Into thinking that nobody else will know
The kind of man I really am;

I don’t want to dress myself up in sham.
I want to deserve all men’s respect;
But here in this struggle for fame and pelf,
I want to be able to like myself.
I don’t want to think as I come and go
That I’m for bluster and bluff and empty show.

I never can hide myself from me,
I see what others may never see,
I know what others may never know,
I never can fool myself — and so,
Whatever happens, I want to be
Self-respecting and conscience free.

1

Welcome

I have been struggling with the whole idea of penning a blog for some time now. The desire has been borne out of my interests in writing and self expression.  I also suspect I’m very, if not overly, opinionated. I guess the readers’ comments will temper some of these types of expressions.

About me: Nigerian in my very early forties, married, father, entrepreneur and employee…I have also led a very challenging personal life…nothing new I guess.

So the topics will be from a diverse range, a little politics, family, work, business, God, religion and sports… Enjoy and feel free to contribute.

SAN

1

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