BOKO HARAM

My pillow dabbed my tears, polishing billows of recalcitrant fears. Lending credence to the ubiquitous doubts of many a man swayed by depression.

The cold weather that burned off my candle, the crazy breeze that blew off some people's hope of a tomorrow sealed with bliss. I weep for my nation. To have a Boko Man among a crowd is certainly a scare that tells someone ... That we are sitting on a keg of gun powder.

Boko Haram! It's a shame! What does it cost to fight the foundation on which one was suckled? What does it cost to bite the fingers that fed one with devotion in the days of winter and to spite the heart that loved one in the days of trials. Boko Haram, make your case clear for I am sure you have no case to present. You are only a mere bunch looking for an inconsequential haven for your terrorist tendencies.

What stress do you have with western education? What stress do you have with the very thing from which the gadgets you use were made? What sort of contradiction laced with shameful ignorance is this? Boko Haram loyalists, wake up to realities.

Nigerians, let's learn to love. Let love come from the east wind, let hope come from the west wind and let them shake hands with North and South. Let no boundary be set, let no prejudice be formed and let our unity in diversity transcend above the realms of realities and gather us in to a world of unity heralded by awesome possibilities.

Again, I dare to say that we are strongest when we have shoulders to lean on in times of stress, hands to hold in times of doubt and friends to laugh with despite the unpredictable vicissitudes of life.

Nigerians, let's join hands to fight Boko Haram. Terrorism must be far from our shores.

Think for a moment, who can be happy because you live? The worth of a man's life is measured by how much value he adds to those around him.

Boko Haram, beware! Like Al Queda, you shall crumble, like dummies; you shall fumble, even much faster than Al Queda. Everyday maybe for the robber but one day would be for the owner of the house and that day you would smell grandma's snuff box in the mythological land of the of the Spirits.

Boko Haram, Beware! Only time will tell!

AT EASE (Part Two).

Friends, I hope you have been doing fine. Let's spur ourselves once more to unlimited hieghts of exploits! 

Remember, You don’t stumble unto success; you’ve got to work for it. Demand what you want and be ready to pay the price. Don’t chicken out when you are almost there. Don’t be at ease when the world is looking up to you, when your success means the success of your generation, when your failure means the failure of a nation. Recently, I saw a picture of a beautiful young woman cut into two by some rampaging Islamic fundamentalists. One part of her from the stomach was dismembered from the rest, while from the stomach to the rest lay another side. If you are in such a place, you will be desperate to survive, desperate, at least to live.

Yet you are alive; and in the midst of critical times like these, some young lady spend hours in front of the mirror painting and making up. They undermine the enormous ability in them to immortalize their names and to become celebrities in their chosen field. As a young person, be desperate with your life. Put your hands into some reasonable things and make your life count

            It’s possible that the comfort you are currently enjoying is making you stay at ease. There is something that can make your generation stand up for you. Maybe you have not realized it, just dig deeper. That single effort might make all the difference. It’s possible that the future of your generation is revolving on your shoulders.

            Imagine that Bill Gates, the Microsoft Boss did not wake up on time, he would not have known that the future of the world as regards computers hung on his neck. Imagine that Henry Ford was at ease with his life, he would not have founded a computer by his name. Richard Branson, chairman and founder of Virgin group would not have come this far if he was at ease with his life.

Friends, it’s time to wake up. Many of these people become strongest at their biggest points of despair and despondency. Don’t give up, don’t be at ease, wake up and rule your world!

Don’t be at ease with life

Lest you serrate your future with a knife

Of incompetence and a life of strife

When you relax and make fun rife

Arise and learn to stay alive all your life!

I’ve been thinking of you!

Chijindu

AT EASE (Part One).

        Life is full of dichotomies. The different situations and circumstances of life sometimes leave us with a certain impression about our ability in our society. The amount of influence resident in a man is often undermined by the comfort around. When we are overly comfortable, we often get blinded by the relative ease being promised and this underscores our productivity in the event of life. Necessity is the mother of invention and this simply means that when there is no sense of duty and passionate essence, abilities crumble like a pack of cookies.

Too much ability is replete in the life of one man; in the place of exploits and in a person’s ability to change the happenings around. Often times, because of the comfortable situations we enjoy by virtue of the things that surround us, we relax and shield our life with a cloak of unproductiveness. Have you ever been desperate to survive? Have you ever come to a point where only one thing is possible to spare your life? I bet you, you will give your all to have it!

Sometimes, we lack the drive to make exploits. We often join a weak and inconsequential bandwagon to criticize the circumstances that life throws our way and we resolve within ourselves that the government is the cause, that our parents are the cause, that our relatives or people around us are to blame. This ultimately dissolves the enormous ice of strength that the almighty has given us to change things around us. The best thing to do is to be the change we want to see in our world. Our society needs only you to be better, your family needs only you to be changed. By the time you see yourself as the person on whom the destiny of your nation revolves around, you will surely act differently.

Most of the time, people discover ways of making wealth when they are sandwiched in an Island of want and starved in a desert of despair. They discover that in them lies the ability to overcome every overbearing situation that tries to snuff their precious life from them. Imagine those who are in places where they rarely come out because of violence, they device many other ways to survive. How come you that is living in a tranquil environment has been cooling off all this while and waiting for something to spur you. Do you know what, spur yourself unto greatness! I will be rich …. I will be rich… It starts today. It is not magic. 

We shall be unlimited in this era when we refuse to be at ease!

Best Wishes!

Chijindu

HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN?

In every generation, some people shine like stars while others dazzle like the moon. Some are conspicuous while a host of others are simply masked in the background and shrouded by those who tower above everyone like some Iroko trees in a forest of dry shrubs.

Just a short while ago, the name Dimeji Bankole was a house hold personality, a cynosure of all eyes and an epitome of excellence among many rising Nigerian youths. With such sterling academic profile, impeccable command of English, an exquisite charisma and all the essence that adorned this quintessential Nigerian politician, it now seems to be plummeting into oblivion. It is just like yesterday, when the press celebrated him and poured all manner of accolades and encomiums on him for being behind the success of the past lower house. Now, we look back with nostalgia as the story is far from being the same.

Today, the question is, how are the mighty fallen? How would this gentleman become a scape goat of a system he once worked to sanitize; an underdog in a country he swore under oath not to let the works of her past heroes be in vain? It is ridiculous to even believe that Bankole would ever stain his name or drag the ego of his numerous fans to the mud.

A 10billion naira loan- the bone of contention; leaves many at a loss on what exactly the house members do with money in the lower house as one cares to remeber the ordeals of Patricia Eteh his predecessor. It leaves one wondering at the insatiable quest for wealth in the Nigerian political circle; the unquenchable thirst for money and the psychological weakness of the average man towards materialism. The reality of the matter remains that Bankole’s monthly take home salary can pay an average secondary school teacher for 5 years. Yet, this does not include his other benefits of security allowance and travelling allowance. How then can we justify these allegations of fraud that is based on an irrepressible hunger for wealth, fame and showmanship? This, indeed, should be a great lesson for the average Nigerian youth.

Well, taking a more unbiased look at the whole events that brought this thus far, one cannot but wonder at the hypocritical nature of the Nigerian polity. Only few years ago, the issue of the 16 billion dollar power contract scandal was swept under the carpet simply because it involved the high and mighty. Some other time, it was Nuhu Ribadu that was on the run because he was being pursued by the powers that be. A little later, when he entered back into their good books, he was restored with his full privileges. The question now remains whether Bankole is drinking the cup of vengeance being poured by his aggrieved colleagues in the former house. Afterall, all the other monies shared in the house where everyone got a share did not raise any dust at all.

However, the search light is on Bankole; he may be a scapegoat or a product of some cataclysmic vengeance. Be that as it may, it is therefore a clarion call for all Nigerians to wake up to the reality that our country is on a solid path to greatness and that our patriotism must be mixed with impeccable truth and passion to offer our quota to our nation’s greatness. It is also a reminder to current political office holders like Aminu Waziri Tambuwal, current speaker of the house of Reps that many Eagle eyes are watching him. For the sake of posterity, let us rise to the challenge of building a nation where corruption and other vices shall belong to history and one where truth, peace and unity shall become our enshrined national identity.

Arise O Compatriots, now is the time!

AT THE BREAK OF DAWN!

It was exactly 5 O’clock in the evening. I had cried for so long that the time did not seem to matter. “Is this how ten years will end? A certain feeling began to overwhelm me once more; tears trickled down my cheeks as I took a last long lingering look at the house where I had suddenly become a stranger. I picked up my hand bag and headed southwards.  

“I hope this emotion does not betray the strong woman in me” I whispered to myself as I twitched my nose to let the contents fly out in some nasty sound that seemed to be some soothing relief to my pains. I lay down under the Lagos Mainland Bridge as my thoughts paced back and forth within my battered body. Why am I a woman? Perhaps I could have fought him back with all my strength. If only I had enough strength to spare.

“Hey! Stop there! If you move I shoot! We have seen you, don’t you dare step an inch!” Some cold air sandwiched itself beneath my aching heart. I lay still, still like a dead log. This is doomsday! I imagined. Next was a shrill sound, “Help! Help! Help!” A scuffle followed and then a silent moment of bitter weeping… “I am dying, oh Jesus! Somebody help!”

When I perceived that everything had died down, I scrambled out of my stiff position and crawled towards the sound. Stealthily, I saw the little girl in great distress. Alas! She had been raped and was in a pool of blood. I bottled up my pains and carried her that night to the nearby hospital. My passion to see this young girl healthy and better gave me a soothing relief. Where do I get money to foot her bills? What do I do to fix my own battered life? These where far from my elemental conception.

My husband, John, had pushed me out and was savouring the love of another woman, yet I still seemed to have this side of me that loved him and our five year old son. Our country does not have enough laws for women of my circumstance; we only suffered in silence, the unmitigated battering of the men’s folk. In my wildest dreams, becoming a divorcee was the last thing on my mind.  Yet my only saving grace was that sheer providence had ushered me into the hands of a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO), CARING WOMEN, managed and run by a group of positive minded women I had met at the hospital. They gave both I and Chika, the girl that was raped adequate rehabilitation.

I picked up my life, got a new work and became a part of the CARING WOMEN. I gave some part of my salary to start another arm of the NGO that gave particular attention to young girls who were rape victims. The challenges thrown my way by virtue of this work made it sweeter than ever. One day, a car pulled up where I managed as my office. Two fellows came out. I was scared initially as I surveyed them carefully and behold, a certain man and my Uncle, Francis.

Seven years after my work at CARING WOMEN, and a year after the visit of my Uncle  and Mr Frank, I walked down the aisle again; this time with Mr. Frank, someone of  my like passion. Through my union with Mr Frank, though I still find it hard to believe, I became the First Lady of our State. It was at the break of dawn!

By

Chijindu Umunnakwe