Tuesday, May 30, 2017

We Will Always Remember

# I’m heading to Uzoakoli to do battle
I’m heading to Uzoakoli, but My lover cries out, she didn’t want me dead.
My lover begs me to flee,
But who will defend the land When I flee?
My sweet heart begs me to Flee,
But who will do battle when the Hausas come#

With this song Biafran men marched into battle to defend their fatherland  as Northern troops led by British tanks and Russian planes invaded their land to continue the Genocide that they started in the North  in 1966.

Every Month of May, we Remember Over 45, 000 innocent people, men, women, children of old Eastern Nigeria , butchered in 1966 all over Northern Nigeria just  in 3 months in the first govt supported genocide in Africa.

Many were laid on rail tracks and crushed by train, men buried alive, pregnant women had their bellies ripped open,Children clubbed to death, Innocent souls whose only crime was  belonging to a different ethnic group and Faith,

To the 45,000  Innocent souls whose blood was used to irrigate the deserts of Northern Nigeria, although the conspiracy of silence continues by most Nigerians, although no monuments are erected, although no atonement has been made for that unprecedented horror,their Blood continue to cry out against this nation, a nation that pretends it never happened - but we, your kins, forced to bury empty coffins, we your brothers-

The Thousands and thousands unaccounted for- in unmarked graves, from Kano to Maidugiri, to Jos to Markudi, to Zaria, to Kafanchan,to illorin,

Although Nigeria sits on these graves and pretends it didn’t happen but we in whose home steads you left empty spaces-

To the brave hearts who stood up to the British armoured cars with matchetes

Two Boys who shared a riffle so when one fell the other will pick up his gun to defend his freedom. To the men who went into battle with five rounds each and must only shoot when he was sure to kill. The men who laid down their lives so I may live

My three kinsmen who volunteered in Oguta and Ontisha sectors,brave men Who never returned-still on patrol

To Bruce Mayrock, an American student who set himself on fire, laid down his life to protest against  the Genocide by Nigeria against its own people

Artur Alves Pereira and Count Von Rosen  of the Biafran airforce who came to Biafra in protest against the state sponsored pogrom

To Wole Soyinka, who stood alone and insisted” the man died” who kept silent in the face of such a pogrom

Tanzania, Ivory Coast, Zambia and Haiti, nations that hoisted our flags against the silence of the world

All members of the Research And Production unit (RAP),
with no outside help YOU demonstrated that the black man can do wonders if only he looks inwards; Home made armoured cars, rockets, beer from cassava, engine oil from coconut, the Biafran Red Devil (Amoured vehicle), the Shore Batteries, the Ogbunigwes. Your ingenuity, your bravety, today-

To our brave mothers , who cooked and sent to their sons in the trenches, knowing it could be their last meal-

The little boys who went “combing” many returned, many did not

The World Council of Churches, The Caritas, The Red Cross who saved millions of children with food aid, despite the blockade,

Millions of our Children who had no milk and died before their time

Ah! Corporal Nwafor, you took in the hail of bullets from the vandals yet continued your final run towards their armoured car with a grenade in your hand, until you successfully threw the grenade into the troublesome vehicle and disabled it before you let your bullet riddled body fall to the ground and your comrades captured the precious armoured car and renamed it “Copral Nwafor”

Col Patrick Achuzie-, General Alexander Madiebo, Gen. Philip Effiong, Col. Onwuatuegwu, Nkonko Ndem and all brave men who stood in the gap

Odumegwu Ojukwu switched from Ball rooms to Bunkers, leaving behind a tremendous wealth to give shelter to a people faced with death, you turned artisans into fighters and scientists,  your mission, to build the first black nation with an indigenous technology.

Under the pressure of  mortar shells and in less than three years, you demonstrated that  the black man can hold his own, but the whites didn’t seem to be comfortable with an indigenous African technology, so  UK and USSR suspended their enmity and empowered their Northern stooge to distract you. The Arab League threw its weight behind the North, the rest is history

General Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu,Eze igbo gburugburu, oguejiofo..

May justice prevail, may peace reign, may we NEVER find a need to shed blood, May  God open the eyes of this Nation to see that like the blood of Abel, the blood of the innocent Easterners shed  needlessly in 1966 calls for atonement and until the Nation collectively owns up to it, it can never be free from this vicious circle.


Written by Ugbaja Greg

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

The Interviewee Who Hated Me

This short piece broke the internet a few days ago

I am reproducing it here for those who missed it or who read it in a hurry


Six years ago a guy looked at me face-to-face and boldly told me, "I don't like you!"
I immediately fired a response. I asked him, "Thank you for the honest feedback, but those whom you like, how has it made their life better? How does your liking people pay their bills or secure them a bank loan? My brother keep your like, I need God's like and that's what guarantees my future."
Today I joined a CEO friend of mine in on interview panel to recruit some new staff. It was a long session. As we returned from a coffee break to continue the hectic interview session, that same guy walked in with his grey jacket and CV, coming for the interview.
Our eyes kissed by fluke. We immediately recognized each other. "The world is indeed spherical," I said to myself.
He felt very uncomfortable throughout the interview. One could clearly see the volcanic eruption playing out in his whole nervous system. He even mistook his date of birth for his last date of employment. It wasn't yet my turn to ask him questions so I allowed everyone to take their turns with him and deliberately opted to interview him last.
When it got to my turn, the first thing I said was, "I LIKE YOU so much, you look to me like a brilliant and intelligent person, but it seems you are not doing well now because something bothers you, true?"
"That's very correct, Sir!" he responded.
"OK, look at me straight in the eye, I was never offended that day. It is very normal that sometimes as humans you just don't like certain people, but I wasn't bothered either, because whether you liked me or not, it was inconsequential to my life and my success path. As you can see, fate has brought you to my lair."
I stood up and beckoned him to come and embrace me. Everyone on the panel at this point were at sea - wondering if we had expeditiously recast an interview session to a Hollywood movie scene.
He hugged me so long and deeply that I felt it. Then I told him, "Now get your confidence back brother and answer the questions like a Pro Shark that you are!"
We all burst into laughter. Everyone suddenly liked him and the room became livelier. The interview became more like a discussion. Well, to cut the long story short, he got the job!
1. Be careful how you treat people when they appear to be in their vulnerable state. Your next level may be hanging in their balance, somewhere in the future.
2. If you dislike someone, it is not their fault, it is YOUR FAULT; work on yourself to find good in people and reinvent your mind to see everyone as likeable.
3. Don't spew hatred vocally just because it came into your heart. You may say it to someone who will keep it forever and use it against you when you find yourself in your own low moments and need them.
4. Learn to forgive, overlook people's dislike and hatred for you. Don't punish people just because you have the position and privilege to do so, bless them instead. That's how you court God's blessings, favour and protection."

Once Upon Nigeria, A Prospering People Asked For Change… God Gave Them Buhari"

By Charles Novia

There was a young business woman, whom we will call Jessie, who had a thriving buying and selling business which had been yielding fantastic profits for years. She would travel to Dubai, America, Paris to buy goods and would sell and make eye-popping profits back home in Nigeria. She was rich. But she wanted more. She wanted change. So she prayed and prayed for change, telling God that she wanted her business to grow more under a new government. She prayed and added change to her prayers. And God shrugged and accepted her request.

And God gave her Buhari.

There was a young banker, who we will call Momah, who had a good job in a bank and as a financial worker, could see the growth patterns of the economy and the daily volume of cash flow in his branch. He had a wife, could provide for his family, summer holidays for years with his family abroad and he even ran some private businesses on the side. But he felt it could be better. He wanted more. He wanted change. And he prayed and wished and screamed for change, screaming to the high heavens for change. And God heard, shrugged and accepted his request.

And God gave him Buhari.

There was a bureau de change operator, we will call him Haruna. He ran a successful forex business and also had a chain of private stores in his region. As the Nigerian economy grew all through the years, he saw his business grow as well. But he was restless. He felt someone else could do it better for the nation. Someone closer to him by spiritual beliefs, regionalism, and personal ideologies. So he prayed to Allah for change. He prayed more than five times a day. And Allah shrugged and gave him his request.

And Allah gave him Buhari.

There was a people in a country, who experienced prosperity in their lives for over a decade. They watched the economy grow, their industries yield outputs, their pockets filled or sometimes half full with money. The country wasn’t perfect but it had promise. Things may not have been where it should have been but things were certainly not as bad as thought. But a section of the people became consumed by the Israelites-in-the-wilderness complex. And they prayed for change. They prayed and prayed louder than the other section which mumbled supplications. And God shrugged and gave them their request.

And God gave them Buhari.

And now, in God’s sanctuary, as He watches whose prayers will be answered between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, God hears the loud cries of pain, suffering, death and malady coming up to the heavens.

‘Where is that din coming from?’ God asks Archangel Gabriel.

‘From Nigeria, Heavenly Father’ Archangel Gabriel replies with a bow.

‘Didn’t I give them what they cried for last year? Didn’t I answer Joanna’s prayers? And the prayers of Momah and Haruna and the people who cried for change?’ God asks as some Cherubims strum gently on their harps.

Archangel Gabriel replies as he reads from a scroll, ‘ Yes, Heavenly Father. But Joanna has lost everything. No one buys anything from her anymore. Her business is zero. She’s broke. She’s the person wailing in that sing-song right now. Momah was sacked by his bank in June 2015. He can’t even pay his children’s school fees and his business is at low levels. Haruna can’t get dollars or foreign exchange to run his business anymore and is gnashing his teeth. The people who cried for change amongst those who didn’t want it, have suddenly realised that what they prayed for is the same as snakes and scorpions. The stubborn ones amongst them still openly scream that they don’t regret that they asked for this change but in the privacy of their homes, they roll on the floor like Dino Melaye and curse the day they picked their permanent voters cards to vote for change. Many who voted for this change openly have been repenting of their mistakes and openly apologising. Those who didn’t vote for it have just been shaking their heads and hissing. It’s a mess, Heavenly Father’

‘And what do they want again this time?’ God asks in amusement.

‘It’s a Babel of voices, Heavenly Father’ replies Archangel Gabriel. ‘Those in charge of this change seem to have tongues of lies and confusion. They say one thing today and run back to change it the next minute. Even Lucifer is grumbling at the other side that some of those people in Nigeria are threatening his job!’

God laughs and laughs at this.

Gabriel continues, ‘Those who the change movement removed from Power are starting a new mantra which they call ‘change the change’. There is just chaos in that land. Now, both the change people and the other side of the divide are just praying’

God smiles. ‘ Let me attend to the American elections first. After that, I will get back to Nigeria. By the way, who’s this Lai Lai fellow I keep hearing people scream about from there?

Gabriel looks through his scroll. ‘ Heavenly Father, Lucifer would best have an answer to that question!’

Charles Novia is an award-winning filmmaker. He is founder of November Productions and November Records. Connect with him on Facebook.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Knowledge Plus Understanding = Unbeatable Combination

This Post Will Surely Help You To Get Understanding

Whether you drive a keke napep or a maruti or a beast or a suzuki 190, the ROAD is the same

Whether you fly business class or economy class or first class or even use your own private jet, your DESTINATION doesn't change

Whether you wear kpako watch or a Rolex or a Titan, TIME remains the same

Whether you use iphone 30 or inifinix or nokia torch, or samsung, the people who CALL you are the same

Whether you eat chicken alacarta or mama put without or isi ewu or potpouri, the OUTCOME would always be faeces

There's really nothing wrong with dreaming and even living a luxurious lifestyle.

But what needs to be seen is that need doesn't become greed because needs can always be met but greed? it is quite insatiable!!!!

What A Husband Needs Most From A Wife Is Never Sex

Sex is an important element in marriage and until there is sexual intercourse between a husband and a wife, the marriage is not yet spiritually recognized. This shows how important sex is in marriage.

When you look at how aggressive men are towards sex you may think that what a man needs from a woman is sex.

Of course, if he has not married you yet or he does not really intend to marry you what he will need from you is nothing above your body.

But if he really intends to marry you or if you guys are already married sex is never what he needs from you - maybe let me say it better; "WHAT A MAN NEEDS MOST FROM A WOMAN IS NOT SEX."

Many young girls think because they are sexually active and experienced they will easily be married and have their husbands loving them.

And when a man approaches for marriage they think the greatest asset they have to show the man is sex.

Others also think once they are giving out their body it means they are giving out the best for which reason they will be chosen above all.

There is this young girl who is very beautiful and sexually active. Due to that she thought sex was all that mattered to a man. Ironically, she struggled for long before finally getting married. Her sexual dexterity could not win her the heart of a man until out of the blue, and for reasons beyond imagination, a very handsome good man married her.
The wedding was grand and her tears were now gone. Unfortunately only a year after the wedding the marriage hit the rocks. Within five years three different men came her way but none could stay.
The problem was simple. She thought sex was all that matters so she would never submit.

But submission is what men need, not sex.

It is time for our young ladies to know that when a man is ready to marry he will not look out for a woman who will satisfy his sex drive but a woman who will submit herself to him. Excuse my language, "every woman has vagina but not every woman has humility." So when you are a humble woman, you are expensive jewelry, and a man of integrity will fear to lose you.

What does the Holy Book say? "Wife, submit to your husband." The reason is that a man's true love goes out only for a woman who is submissive. Your beauty cannot make another woman ugly but your humility can let him love you above all other women.

Sadly, many young ladies in nowadays see submission as "control." And you will hear them saying in tiny romantic voices, "As for me I don't want any man to control me oh."

If you don't want to submit don't think of marriage because no man in his right sense will offer his love to a woman whose heart is higher than his height, no matter how short he may be.

When a woman bows her knee before a man, the man will automatically bow his heart before her love, and love her sincerely.

There are, of course, recalcitrant men who will not value women of humility but I tell you that every true man does not need sex, but submission. It is submission that truly makes you a romantic wife. So be the African Queen you want to be but when it comes to dealing with your husband, play the role of a humble maid. 

Don't forget that it is the spirit of humility that has made many maids hijack their mistresses' husbands. 

Be your man's queen and be his maid also.

I wish you all the best as you submit in your relationship and marriage.

May God bless you with a good marriage, my dear sisters.

Written By:         Catherine Ijeoma Nwike

Sunday, May 14, 2017

It's Great To Suck At Something

Over the past 15 years, surfing has become a kind of obsession for me. I surf eight months a year. I travel to surf destinations for family vacations and seek (forgiving) waves in the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. I have spent thousands of dollars on boards of all sizes and shapes.

And yet — I suck at it.

*In the sport of (Hawaiian) kings, I’m a jester.
*In surfing parlance, a “kook.”
*I fall and flail.
*I get hit on the head by my own board.
*I run out of breath when held down by a four-foot wave.
*I wimp out when the waves get overhead and I paddle back to shore.

When I do catch a wave, I’m rarely graceful.
On those rare occasions when I manage a decent drop, turn and trim, I usually blow it by celebrating with a fist pump or a hoot.
Once, I actually cried tears of joy over what any observer would have thought a so-so performance on a so-so wave.

Yes, I was moved to tears by mediocrity.

So why continue?
Why pursue something I’ll never be good at?

Because it’s great to suck at something.

When people hear that I surf, I get a knowing nod of awesomeness from the terra firma-bound. I know what they’re picturing: me on a thruster, carving up and down a wave face until I casually kick out the back to paddle out to the line up for another.

The truth is that most surfers don’t come close to what we see in highlight videos. But pretty’s not the point. The point is the patience and perseverance it requires to get back on the board and try again.

After a surf instructor pushed me into my first wave, it took me five years to catch one on my own.

When I do catch a wave and feel the glide, I’ll hold onto that feeling for hours, days or even weeks. I’m hooked on the pursuit of those moments, however elusive they may be. But it’s not the momentary high that has sustained me. In the process of trying to attain a few moments of bliss, I experience something else: patience and humility, definitely, but also freedom.

Freedom to pursue the futile. And the freedom to suck without caring is revelatory.

My friend Andy Martin is a Cambridge don of French literature. He has surfed the world over. But about his status as a surfer, he tells me, “I am called a surfer only at Cambridge.” In his mind, he sucks, but he’s O.K. with that. That being O.K. is the humility that comes only with sucking and persevering.

The notion of sucking at something flies in the face of the overhyped notion of perfectionism. The lie of perfectionism goes something like this: “If I fail, it’s only because I seek perfection.” Or “I can never finish anything because I’m a perfectionist.” Since the perfectionist will settle for nothing less, she is left with nothing.

Self-knowledge here is key. No one ever tells you how much you suck at something. Unless you have a mean boss, an abusive parent or a malicious friend, most people are happy to help us maintain the delusion that our efforts are not in vain. No, we cannot count on people around us to let us know how much we suck. It is far more acceptable to compliment than to criticize. So the onus is on us as individuals to admit to ourselves how much we suck at something. And then do it anyway.

By taking off the pressure of having to excel at or master an activity, we allow ourselves to live in the moment. You might think this sounds simple enough, but living in the present is also something most of us suck at.

Think about how focused you become when you’re presented with something totally new to accomplish. Now, what happens when that task is no longer new but still taps into intense focus because we haven’t yet mastered it? You’re a novice, an amateur, a kook. You suck at it. Some might think your persistence moronic. I like to think of it as meditative and full of promise.

In the words of the Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind, there are few.” When I surf, I live in the possibility.
Or, as the great father of surfing, Duke Kahanamoku, wisely advised: “Be patient. Wave come. Wave always come.”

But, then what’s going to happen?

As my friend Michael Scott Moore wrote in his book, “Sweetness and Blood,” “When a surfer takes off on a wave, there are two possible results.” Fairly predictably for me, the outcome is an epic fail. Yet, I remain hopeful that this time will be better than the last.

Maybe sucking at something where the stakes are low can lead us to a better place. Maybe it could be a kind of a medicine for the epidemic cocksureness in our culture. Seeing ourselves repeatedly doing something we suck at — no matter how trivial — might make us a bit more sympathetic to how hard so many things really are: trying to navigate health issues, listening to our neighbors, improving the economy or mitigating relations with hostile nations.

By exposing ourselves to the experience of trying and failing we might develop more empathy. If we succeed in shifting from snap judgments to patience, maybe we could be a little more helpful to one another — and a whole lot more understanding.

If we accept our failures and persevere nonetheless, we might provide a respite from the imperative to succeed and instead find acceptance in trying. Failing is O.K. Better still, isn’t it a relief?

There’ll always be another chance. And another after that, trust me. Be patient. Waves come. Waves always come.

Do you suck at something? Share your stories in the comments.

Written By:     Karen Rinaldi

Source:     NYTimes