Terror In The Dark
Scared black man.Image: Naijaloaded This is based on real events… Bashir jutted out of bed! 2:46am. He stilled himself and listened. There it was again! There was no mistaking the sharp grating noise of someone trying to open his gate. His instinct was to jump out of bed and confront the person, but common sense (mixed with a healthy dose of fear) prevented him from doing so. He tip-toed to his window instead. Heart in mouth, he raised the curtain slightly. Four men. All holding sticks and machetes. Not too burly, but with those weapons, they looked like giants. Bashir turned back. In the darkness of his room, he couldn’t really see much but he was acutely aware of the sleeping form of Aisha – his fiancée – who had come over for a sleep-over. His heart leaped into his mouth. What would they do to her? He couldn’t bear to picture it…them…over her…holding her down…NO! Now he knew real fear! ‘Who is there?!’ His father shouted. Like most Muslim Northerners, Bashir lived in the same compound as his family; living in a separate apartment to give his family space, but close enough to protect them if the need arose. The need had risen! ‘Who is there I said?’ His father hollered at the intruders. ‘Your Father!‘ One of the men hollered. ‘You in for it!’ At that, Aisha jumped out of bed. ‘Go down baby.’ Bashir whispered before drawing up air into his lungs for a good ole scream. His sisters beat him to the punch. ‘Thieves! Thieves! Thieves!’ Bashir quickly joined in the shouts as Aisha dove straight for the tiles. Though all the men were heading to the main house, one turned towards Bashir’s apartment, with his upraised machete. Bashir ran to the spot beneath his clothes hanger and coiled up in a ball, not knowing if the assailant had any fire power. He didn’t make the slightest sound, though the thumping of his heart was deafening. He hoped it wouldn’t give his location away to his assailant. The robber opened the window of his sitting room and flashed his torchlight. ‘No one is here.’ he shouted to his colleagues. He tried the bedroom window but it was firmly bolted from within. All the while, Bashir’s sisters, mother and father kept shouting that there were thieves in the house. The shouts reached a crescendo when neighbors in other compounds joined in the screams. Bashir got up and started towards the curtain again, only to be plumped down by Aisha. ‘Don’t go there baby!’ She whispered hoarsely, her fear palpable. He pried her off him, trying very hard not to be rough. ‘I just need to find out if they are still here.’ Aisha wouldn’t listen to anything. She kept pulling him down when he tried to get up, refusing to let him put himself in harm’s way. Bashir’s phone rang. There was that moment of frozen silence just before Aisha grabbed the device in a fear-frenzy, trying all her best to end the call. Bashir grabbed the phone from her hand and answered it. The look Aisha gave him (as reflected by the soft glow of the phone) could have quelled a lesser man. He turned away from her and… ‘Hello?’ he all but croaked. Aisha was beyond livid. How could he receive a call in the middle of a robbery? She wanted to slap the sense into him, but she was powerless to do anything. ‘Did they enter your house too?’ he asked the caller, whom Aisha was really beginning to loathe. Bashir listened a bit. ‘Okay…I think they have gone but please, keep calling the police men.’ He listened again. ‘Okay. Thanks man. I owe you one.‘ he said as he ended the call. This time, he got up and went to the curtain. He looked through and couldn’t find anyone. He stood at different angles, using the moon’s guide to search the length and breadth of the compound. Still no one. He knew that it would be fallacy to think they had gone. He remained in his room and listened for any foot falls. There were none. Bashir went back to Aisha. He touched her and felt her jump a bit. ‘It is okay baby. I think they are gone.’ ‘How can you know that?’ ‘I don’t. But I’ve checked all around and I can’t seem to find them. They cannot afford to still be around, especially with the community shouts for help. The police have got to be on their way soon. So…let’s hope for the best.’ Aisha was still skeptical, but she allowed herself to be pulled into his arms as he pulled her into bed. As they laid together, they could both hear their hearts thumping in their respective cages and that seemed to pull them closer. They held each other, urging the other to sleep but not dispelling the adrenaline fast enough to allow that. They were scared, but they at least had each other. *** The ruckus outside jolted Bashir from his sleep. 3:52am. He heard a slight scuffle. Aisha was up like a lightning bolt. She had not slept, listening for the slightest sound and worrying to no end. It seemed like the robbers had returned with reinforcements. The gate was kicked in and five men in the Nigerian army uniform bust into the house. One quickly went into the recesses of the compound, while the others placed themselves strategically around. Though Aisha couldn’t see all that, she quickly went to the floor. ‘Come out.’ One of the men bellowed. Aisha started praying. She felt like this was going to be her last day on earth. It wasn’t surprising when no one responded. One of the men went up the stairs and banged the door. ‘Come out!’ Bashir had already made up his mind that he wasn’t going to respond when he heard his father open the door. He quickly went to his own door and opened it. He had to protect his
Bleaching To Fit In
Bleaching Skin.Image: The Inquisitr. Brazilian hair? Check. Painted lips? Check. Heavy make-up? Check Chunky jewelry? Check Super high heels? Check And above all, bleached skin? Check. Welcome to the new trend of the ‘perfect woman’. Add an hour glass figure to that and you complete the look. No wonder there are more ‘fair’, painted-lipped, overly made up, Brazilian-hair-carrying, big-bag toting and high-heeled wearing women in society today than in any other time in our history. The Brazilian hair might not be too much of a problem if some of the carriers do not dry out their accounts acquiring the look. Even though weaves are no longer as expensive as they were when they first came out, and the brothers from the southern part of the country have devised versions that are far more affordable for the everyday woman, they are still quite expensive. However, the Brazilian tresses are really not a problem. The painted lips are also not a problem, unless your lips are really thick and you are choosing red or bright pink. You know those colors make your already full lips fuller. There are also as many designers and ‘designers’ as there are shades of red and pink, so picking one that is affordable wouldn’t be too much of a problem. At the end of the day, all you need to get rid of it is wipe it off before going to bed. The chunky jewelries and high heels can be removed also, though your neck, waist and thighs might be the worse for it. The same goes for heavy make-up, as there are many make-up removal wipes, jellies and creams for all skin types. What cannot be reversed, undone, removed, taken off, etc is the bleached skin. Unlike make-up, borrowed tresses and red lipstick, a bleached skin cannot be unbleached. It is a permanent change that may or may not be detrimental to your life. Uneven bleached Skin.Image: CNN In spite of this knowledge, many black and brown women can’t wait to bleach their skin. They even go beyond whitening their skin to encouraging *read bullying* other women to do same. Take Dencia for example. Dencia is the new definition of the ‘perfect woman’: long tresses, unnaturally fair skin, mostly red or pink lips, hour-glass figure, toting big bags and strutting in impossible high heel. Add her ‘fame’ from her music career (though, none of her songs readily comes to mind), her modeling gigs and her now infamous spot removing cream, and she becomes the poster child for skin bleaching. And the more she is brought up in the media, the more young women feel she is the role model for the physical perfection that they seek. Her entire outlook may not a problem in itself if it was a simple case of make-up and fake hair. But it goes beyond that. The issue of skin bleaching has been on the front burner for many years now. Africans have felt a growing need to lighten their skin color because of thousands of years of physical, emotional and psychological slavery and abuse from the colonialists. The media subtly (and sometimes directly) says that ‘lighter is better’. As a result, many Africans want to ‘dilute’ or completely erase the melanin in their skins to fit into a more acceptable tone. So Africans with skin tone like Mariah Carey are treated much better than those who look like Alek Wek or even Khoudia Diop. Many don’t care that in spite of their skin tone, all these women are black and descendants of Africans. A mix of the races has resulted in a broad spectrum of glorious melanin goodness. Rather than bask in our varying shades of awesomeness, we put on hats of self-hate and depreciation and sometimes, transfer that hate unto others. It isn’t surprising that statements such like, ‘he has a dirty black skin’ or ‘she will be more beautiful if she was fairer’ are tossed around with no holds barred. This has led many dark skinned Africans to feel unattractive, unappealing, and unwanted. Shades of Us.Image: Yahoo Entertainment. On the other hand, people with bleached skin are super sensitive when they are questioned about their light skin, as was seen by the blatant display put on by Dencia on the Channel 4 interview. She went there angry and to a major part, ignorant of so many issues. Rather than calmly respond to the questions she was asked, she kept jumping down the throat of the interviewer and the second interviewee. The height of her ignorance was shown to the world when she said it wasn’t her business if a person thought their whole skin was one dark spot. In that statement, she showed how insecure her former skin color had made her feel and at the same time, told how her new skin color hadn’t given her the self-confidence she thought it would. While she has said that what she does with her body is no one’s business but hers (one cannot help but totally agree with her), it became everybody’s business when she packaged her low self-esteem and told the world to buy into it. Though it is easier to follow the crowd, maybe it is high time women realize that they do not need to do so to look (and be) beautiful. We have to tell ourselves that we are beautiful just the way we are. This is reminiscent of something a pastor said when addressing the single ladies in church. She asked if women looked at themselves in the mirror. Most of the ladies snickered but replied in the affirmative. She then went on to ask how many of the ladies looked at themselves while in the nude. Most ladies felt uncomfortable and looked everywhere but at the speaker. They thought that was not church discussion and were totally not cool with her asking that question. She then went on to tell them that she dealt with lots of issues surrounding her physical attributes and whenever those insecurities came up,
On Flawed Leadership And Stunted Growth
Employees playing a game of Chess.Image: Pexels.com Have you ever worked for someone whom you knew is less intelligent than you are and whose vision is so myopic that it cannot really be called that? Have you had to deal with leaders who stifle your capabilities and reach just because they cannot see beyond the rim of their glasses? Is it frustrating when you cannot move as fast as the world is moving because your boss is stuck in the past? If your answer is yes to all this, then the club of frustrated employees welcomes you with open arms. More companies are springing up with little or no respect for basic work ethics. Anyone who has some extra money thinks that they need to expand their sphere of influence by owning businesses. This is good because, in an economy where most young people are without jobs, it reduces the spate of unemployment and even facilitates growth and development. While this may be good when these companies have clearly defined visions and structures, it is a hell of problem when they don’t. Employees of such organizations see their offices as a means to end; the end being the take-home pay. As a result of this, many of these employees are without focus and sometimes, direction. They go through the motions every day and go home either unfulfilled or indifferent. These employees are not to blame; the leaders of their organizations are. A leader is supposed to be innovative; a person who thinks outside the box. In fact, a leader should believe that there is no box and (s)he should be able to translate that same belief to the people who follow him and who work for/with him. Steve Jobs might have been the one known on the Apple Incorporated platform, but all the great ideas didn’t come from just him. His leadership style made the Apple Company far bigger than most of its other competitors. When employees can see that their leader is very innovative and open to creative thinking, they will either follow suit or be booted out! This has ensured that the Apple brand is a brand that is built to last and to remain on top of its game. That company isn’t so much about the intelligence of the employees, but more to do with the strength of its leadership. Business man working.Image: Pexels.com The story was told of a man who had traveled from his home county and was away for about twenty years. When he returned home, he decided to take a drive round town to see what had changed. While driving, he came across a derelict building that housed his county’s only restaurant. Out of nostalgia, he drove into the parking lot and decided to go in. As soon as he stepped in, it seemed like he has gone into a time capsule. The restaurant was exactly the same; from the black and white checkered table tops and floors, to the faded yellow and green curtains, the heavy jowls of the proprietor behind the counter and the slightly off smell of baked goods and food. It was said that he sat down to eat and was served by the same maid, only difference being that she was older and heavier around her mid region. He could have sworn that the meal tasted exactly the same and it was while he was eating that the idea came to him. When he left the restaurant, he called up business associates and outlined how his home county was a good place for investment. After one year, he had built the most state-of-the-art restaurant anyone had ever seen. He employed big shot chefs, made massive campaigns and generally set the town abuzz with news of the new restaurant. The restaurant was divided into three: a section for pastries, chocolates, ice creams, shakes and cakes; another for local dishes from within the country; a third section with delicacies from countries abroad. His management team decided to create job opportunities for the people of the county. Soon, the restaurant began to employ mechanics, welders, masons, and other charlatans to come cook meals. The chefs eventually got tired of trying to teach them what needed to be done and so, they left: one after the other. Soon, the restaurant was run by people who had no idea how to cook, bake or do anything related to food. The facility gradual began to go to waste. The meals got messier and messier and even the food art that was characteristic of the restaurant began to dwindle. The owner came again into town after some years and when he went to inspect his facility, he was in utter shock! The restaurant looked anything but impressive. The foreign dish section was an exact replica of the local dish section; serving the same local dishes. What was worse was that the menu was exactly the same with the first restaurant of the town and since the first restaurant was better at doing their thing, patronage of his restaurant had dwindled. In six years, his dream had been reduced to rubble. None of his business ventures had failed except this one. He was reported to have called a meeting of his management team and when he brought up the issues he had with them, the management had the effrontery to say, ‘The people do not understand the new dishes. And since they were already used to what the town was offering, we decided to just give them what they were used to’. The owner was reported to have smiled and in summary, dismissed his entire management team. He knew that when things didn’t work, the leader was more to blame than the employees. Leadership is more than position. It has to do with seeing the potential in opportunities, maximizing the possibilities of imagination, influencing people to follow you and your idea and consistently ensuring that you are at least one step ahead of your competition
Side Chick
Woman Screaming.Image: Politics and Fashion Masha Agada got into her car and finally screamed. She had just calmly walked out of her boyfriend’s…no, ex-boyfriend’s house, after telling him it was over. She was shaking vigorously as she gripped the steering wheel. The tears were seconds away from cascading down her eyes, but she had promised she wouldn’t let any man see her cry, especially not the jerk called Nonso. Well…she could cry now; in the comforts of her car. But she wasn’t going to! She gulped in air and tried to steady her nerves. When her heart rate wasn’t shooting off the roof anymore, she put the key in the ignition and slowly pulled out of the street. *** Masha was new to town. She had been transferred by her bank to the Kaduna office in Kakuri. Unlike most people, Masha relished the transfer to Kaduna. She had wanted to leave Port Harcourt and all the drama she had accrued; from the fiancé who had shattered her heart when she caught him cheating, to finding out her boss whom she held in high regards was stealing from the bank. And even though she was one of the hardest working marketers in the bank, her refusal to have sex with many clients meant she often couldn’t meet her monthly target of ₦50 million. It was the perfect excuse for her boss. When he initiated and approved her transfer, it was so he could keep his secret. So when Masha heard Kaduna, she jumped at the opportunity; even though she knew no one there. When Masha finally resumed in Kaduna, she was welcomed with very open arms. It seemed people were falling all over themselves to be friends with her. She quickly felt at home. After her first week at work, she asked one of her colleagues – Annie – about the churches in town. Annie attended Our Family Church and invited Masha to check it out. Masha agreed. On Sunday, she was dressed in her fashion-best and ready to enjoy a great service. When she pulled into the parking lot of the church, she was welcomed with bright smiles and effusive hugs. Masha felt overwhelmed! She hadn’t known church could be such a warm, welcoming place! What part of the world had she been living in?! When she finally entered the church, she gasped in pure delight because the interior decoration was perfect! As the service proceeded, Masha drank in the exuberance of the choir, the message, the way they welcomed new comers and the general atmosphere of service. At the end of service, Masha had decided she was going to be a member of the church. She asked for membership forms and filled them out. When Masha got home that day, she knew she had found a new home. *** After six months undergoing membership training, Masha finally became a full church member. She quickly joined the church choir and totally gave herself to the community. Masha had a triangle of movement: home, work, church, and back home again. Her social life was her church and most times, she only went home to sleep. It wasn’t long before the church started buzzing about the new girl and her dedication to the things of God. With her growing fame, so were her suitors. All types of men came her way. She always turned them down because, for the most part, they were lacking in something she truly desired: better knowledge about God than she had. Most of the men just didn’t quite hit the mark. Many were willing to compromise on issues and most especially on sex. It wasn’t like she was a virgin; she had just made a commitment to God to not have sex again until she was married! So when ‘brothers’ couldn’t get her resolve, she dropped them from her friend list faster than they could holler ‘Hallelujah!’ She deftly parried the advances of the single guys until the day she met Nonso. *** Nonso was not Masha’s dream man. He was short, not conventionally handsome, and had his facial features burned by acne. When he talked, saliva gathered at the edges of his lips. He also walked funny: something that would have been suave with a taller man, but seemed weird with him. What he lacked in physical looks, he more than made up with his voice. When he spoke, he could turn heads and melt hearts. He would have made a great public speaker, but he chose a career in real estate. He was the chief consultant at one of the leading real estate firms, with a knack for ‘sniffing’ what property would rake in millions. He was invaluable to his firm. In church, he maintained an aloof distance, saying he couldn’t be in any department because he was too busy. And because it was a fast-growing church, no one noticed him. When he walked up to Masha, she was ready to brush him off with a quick smile and a harried ‘Hello’ when his voice stopped her in her tracks. Masha was not impressed with his command of English because he tended to use big words where small ones could do. She stayed talking to him only because of the quality of his voice. When she eventually left him, she was glad he hadn’t asked for her number. She just didn’t have the time for men. *** When Masha got called to her boss’ office on Monday, she was not ready for what he was about to dish. ‘So…heard of Barkley’s Real Estate?’ he asked. Masha nodded her head to one side, thinking. ‘Only vaguely.‘ ‘Well, they are the biggest real estate company in the North, with headquarters here. We have been trying to get them to bank with us, to no avail.’ From the tone of his voice, it was easy to see how much he had tried. Masha, thoughtful, replied. ‘Okay…let me study their portfolio and see what strategy we can use to lure them in.’ Her
Long Distance
Image: Godisable Jacob. She sat on the edge of her bed, tired of pacing the length of her room while waiting for her phone to ring. Adon was waiting for her boyfriend to arrive from Abuja; a trip to Gombe that was usually about 9 hours by road but was in its 12th. Coupled with the fact that he had left late (at almost 9:30 AM) it wasn’t hard to understand why she was worried. She had not seen him in three months and in fact, had only seen him once in their seven months relationship. They had been friends for a little more than five years before it had become a full blown relationship. Since they had started dating, all they did was fight. In fact, they had been fighting on the regular for days now and she was a bit tired of the whole drama. When he said he was coming to see her, she was both ecstatic and afraid; afraid that spending time together would push them to end the relationship and also afraid he wouldn’t like her so much when he spent time with her. When he finally got a vehicle, he told her his phone battery was down. She told him to save it and even that statement had become another excuse to fight. Since she hung up on him, she hadn’t been able to talk to him all day. She had called and called, and he hadn’t picked. Why was he not picking her calls? ••• Why couldn’t he get through to her? He had been calling her numbers all day and the annoying computer voice kept saying her number was switched off! Jason was was tired of the journey and he didn’t need this network issues at the moment. He just wanted to get to his girl, to see if he could salvage the relationship that seemed to be riddled with constant fights. Every little thing he did was blown out of proportion by Adon. She always seemed too eager to jump him when he showed the slightest disagreement. If he didn’t love her so, he would have ended things long long ago. This was a last ditch attempt to see if their relationship was worth all the trouble. Since he couldn’t get her, he started typing a text message. After all, he was somewhere at the outskirts of Gombe. ••• ‘Brrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhh…’ The vibration of the phone made Adon jump. She had been so lost in thought that she forgot where she was for a minute. She picked her phone and saw an SMS. Jason! She quickly unlocked her phone and read it. He was close…almost there. Adon jumped, ran her hand through her hair, picked her car keys and ran out of the house. ••• Jason hoped Adon wouldn’t run him out of town. His heart was thumping while he waited for her. He decided to use the ATM since she insisted he stayed in a hotel. She had a house and could have made it easy for him but no, she didn’t want any drama with her neighbors who were all stiff-necks. He didn’t express his disapproval, he just accepted it and got into a bus. It was hard most times dealing with Adon. He just hoped he wouldn’t look like a total fool when he had to return to Abuja. He finally spotted the first bank on the street and walked into the ATM cubicle. ••• ‘Where in God’s name are you?’ Adon cursed beneath her breath as she circled the street on more time. All she had asked him to do was wait for her at the bus stop. Where had he gone? She tried to stifle the salty taste of fear she was tasting in her mouth. She couldn’t bear to imagine… ‘Jason!‘ She screamed as she saw him come out of a bank, creating skid marks on the road as she screeched to a halt. He had not heard her, which was not surprising since he was wearing his headphones. She would have to go turn again. She picked up her phone and tried calling him again. ‘The number you have dialed…‘ ‘Arrgghhh!‘ She ended the call with as much frustration and anger as she could muster. She dropped the phone, started the car and drove quickly. The red light at the junction was almost her undoing. Each second felt like eternity and when finally the light changed to yellow, she didn’t even wait. She made the turn and sped off. The green light could go hug a transformer! When she finally got to the bus stop, she saw Jason looking from left to right, standing out in the crowd, and in a way, managing to still look sexy despite having to travel all that distance. She found a shoulder on the road and smoothed her car into it. She came down and crossed the road. Jason still hadn’t noticed her. ‘Your phone is supposed to be close to you so when I call you, you pick.‘ she said in a harsh voice. Jason had turned to look the other way when he saw that Adon was almost on top him. He took out the ear phones and caught the last part of what she said. He smiled. She stopped in her tracks. He took one step forward…then another and like something out of a movie, he gathered her in his arms and pulled her in for a bear hug; all 5 feet 7 inches of her. One look at her wild hair, her lithe figure, those pouty lips and he knew he was home! ••• Adon didn’t remember him this buff! The last time she had seen him, he was gangly, and quite frankly, wobbled when he walked. His skeleton seemed to be uncomfortable carrying his 6 feet 2 inch frame. His head seemed to be out of place with his remaining body. Today…he looked…perfect! He was buff, all muscular and stuff, and when he took
Organized Religion: Instrument For Mass Delusions
Prayer.Image: Jack Skett Have you listened to religious messages recently? Are you worried about what these messages are doing to individuals and society? Because it seems the divide along religious lines in Africa is widening and the chasm is about to swallow us. Whether it is Christianity, Islam, Buddhism or Judaism, all organized religion seems to be doing is spreading hate, intolerance, violence and an apathy for humanity outside of one’s faith. It is an irony because most religions hide behind a facade of tolerance and peace. Few days ago, this Tafsir – a body of knowledge which aims to make clear the true meaning of the Qur’an, its injunctions and the occasions of its revelations – was on radio and the central message was that Muslims were better than everybody and Christians and Jews were people Muslims needed to be wary of. The Tafsir was playing in a plural society where both Christians and Muslims lived. Any Christian listening to that message would have been uncomfortable. If they had kept listening, they would have felt the gradual stirring of anger. Over time, the anger might turn to hate. Next thing you know, a need for vengeance. Make no mistake; Muslims are not the only ones preaching these types of messages. Preachers in churches are equally guilty. It is not unusual to see some preachers talk about Muslims in a derogatory manner during their sermons. Furthermore, Christians are told that, by virtue of accepting Christ as their Lord and Savior, they have become better than others. They are taught to see anyone who hasn’t accepted Christ as unbelievers and some sects in Christianity even go as far as saying that Christians shouldn’t associate with Muslims. Hence, the society is made up of two major religious groups who think they are better than the other and who refuse to be led, or as they would describe it, ‘ruled’ by the other. Does this ring a bell? This display among religious adherents raises certain question. Why do preachers feel the need to constantly tear other faiths apart? And since times are changing, shouldn’t the way scriptures are followed also change? In the past, it may have been okay to kill people who didn’t share your belief. Today, it sparks of human rights abuse. Many people are quick to label Muslims violent. It has been said that anything said against Islam, its prophet and ethics usually ends in bloodshed. It is also said that any slight against one Muslim is a general strike against all Muslims. Many people conclude that Muslims are defensive about their religion, even unto death. What many do not realize is that the Christian faith is like that; or started out like that. The Church has also caused many deaths in the world. During the Crusades, anyone not ‘accepting’ Christ was killed and their properties confiscated. The Catholic Church made a fortune in death and torture and while doing that, served up Jesus on a platter of silver. They killed people who had different views from the ones set by the church. Take what happened to the Cathar Movement for example. The movement were a group of gnostic Christians whom the church deemed heretics and a genocidal war approved by Pope Innocent III almost completely wiped them out in 1321 CE. The church also, between 1347 and 1349 blamed many Lepers, Jews, Muslims and witches for The Black Death epidemic. These groups of people were accused of poisoning wells and spreading the disease. From the 1430s, the church brought up trumped up charges against ‘witches’, blaming them for stupid reasons like male impotence and using the opportunity to go on killing sprees. For over a century and a half, a time known as the ‘Burning Times’, the church was responsible for the deaths of millions of people; the actual number is not known because of disparaging accounts between the church and independent historical sources. Was that the worst the church, and hence Christianity, did? Of course not! Europeans were preaching Jesus yet robbing Africa blind, fattening her coffers and growing in economic strength! We still have ornaments in Europe that belong to Africa. But hey, they gave us Jesus, didn’t they? Let us not forget that the slave masters and traders were using and abusing their slaves because somehow, the Bible okays having slaves (Colossians 4:1, Ephesians 6:9). Fast-forward to today and we have ‘Christians’ who think it is okay to be racist and rid the world of ‘minority races’. So when you want to jump down the throats of Muslims for being violent, take a deep breath and assess the violence Christians have perpetrated through history and in some regions, are still perpetrating. Not to condone violence or anything but non-Muslims shouldn’t be too quick to rant about having a peaceful religion when that religion murdered and pillaged people and towns to get to where it is today. Human beings are innately violent, and religion is just our excuse to be evil. Muslim Man Praying.Image: Defender Network One other major problem of religion is the issue of choice; or the lack there off. In most cases, people are not allowed to choose their own paths. They are either born into families that believe in one faith or in communities that are predominantly another. Many grow up just following the choices their parents have made. Maybe that is why many young people are not bothered with religion. Oh! They put on a show and what not but deep down, many do not care. Those who choose to follow their own paths, especially if it isn’t in tandem with what their parents or communities approve of, are often considered outcasts. If they are unlucky, they are threatened, brow beaten or even killed! The fear of death or being cut off by loved ones keeps more people in their religions than any other thing. The older generation needs to ask themselves these questions: Are younger people interested in organized religion? If there wasn’t the threat of excommunication and death, would young people believe in what their parents and communities believed in? Do young people understand what their religion is about? Do they want to understand? If religion doesn’t preach blessings for obedience, pain for disobedience and a fitting afterlife for all our actions, will people even give religion a second thought? These are questions that religious proponents need to be asking. This part is specifically to Christians. It is about time you get your head around the polity of the nation. While you are
The Middle East Is Not Our Concern
Israel Versus PalentineImage: Lobe Log The long-standing feud between Israel and Palestine has been raising feathers in some Nigerian quarters. This fight has been going on for years and years on end; Israel takes Palestinian lands, Palestine attacks Israel, Israel carries out reprisal attacks, vice versa…and the circle of violence continues! Anyone who has been following the news knows that these two nations are bitter enemies; something that probably dates back to their shared history and possibly, ancestry. So it was no surprise that when three Israeli teenagers were killed by Palestinian forces, Israel sprang into action and retaliated (and are still retaliating). What is worrisome is not the fact that as usual, most of the Arab nations are calling out Israel for their brutal force. No… that is not it! What is surprising is that some Nigerians have joined in on the fight. My worry is, why wasn’t any alarm raised when Palestine held those boys captive? Why was there no collective demand that the boys be returned home? Were those boys less human because they were Israelis? This is a reminder of what is happening in Nigeria. When churches were burnt and Christians killed by the dreaded militant sect in the north, many Muslim clerics did not openly condemn the act. The moment Muslims started dying, there was a shift in the atmosphere in the country. Clerics couldn’t wait to get on radio, TVs, blogs, newspapers and social media to decry the death of ‘Nigerians’. Like their counterparts, many Christian leaders didn’t openly condemn the killings of Muslims. The question then is: are Nigerian lives only important when they share your faith? Or culture? Or tribe? Why am I even bothered about this? Simple! Any fight where Israel is seen as the aggressor always translates to a fight against Muslims in general, and when Israel is perceived to be the victim, Christians quickly jump to their defense. This is why a fight happening all the way in the Middle East is affecting us here in Nigeria. It is especially funny because both these nations do not give a hoot about us or our existence. Rather than getting agitated over what is happening all the way in Israel and Palestine, why don’t we get worried about our own country’s woes?! Why don’t we worry about the fact that many of our communities are riddled with conflicts that has such high cost in human lives and properties? First Respondents at the site of the Nyanya Bomb Blast in Abuja.Date: April 14, 2014.Image: The Trent Online Newspaper For what it is worth, Nigeria is at war! That cannot be overemphasized! Bombs are going off from Maiduguri to Osun, making stop overs at Adamawa, Yobe, Bauchi, Gombe (reportedly), Kaduna, Kano and Abuja. Most people wonder what will happen to them in that busy marketplace, that crowded motor park, that congested traffic or that busy shopping mall. People from Maiduguri go out ready to die! They make peace with their family members, loved ones and friends and most especially with God. They know that a bomb can rip them apart as they step out. They don’t even bother to make long term plans. Is that a way to live?! As if that is not enough, our military keeps telling us they have defeated the sect when all we see is an escalation of the insurgency. We have 219 girls1 waiting to be rescued from the hands of their abductors! What is the fate of these girls? Are they treated well? Have some of them being abused, or killed? Why aren’t we more worried about this? But here we are…waiting on a security that shouldn’t let Stockholm Syndrome set in; though it probably set in at day 21. We should be worried that our security forces are going on rampages, burning BRT buses in Lagos, attacking their General Commanding Officers and telling the nation they have locations of the kidnapped girls when they obviously don’t! And everyone who says the Boko Haram insurgency is a northern issue must have been shocked when a bomb went off in Osun or at the ones that didn’t go off in Enugu because they were caught just in time. Even if that is in no way related to Boko Haram, what about the insurgency seen via kidnappings and ritual killings? Wouldn’t that be considered insurgency too? One thing makes Edo, Port Harcourt, Warri, Cross Rivers and now Kogi similar; kidnappings. Prominent citizens as well as the everyday Joe suffer at the hand of kidnapping kingpins and ritualists. Oh! It is not secluded to these places; we have Lagos, Oyo and most recently, Kwara. You hear of human parts been found in ritualists dens all over the country. If the north has her issues, the south, east, west and south-south also does! Did I mention the cult clashes? The farmers and herders’ conflicts that seem to only get bigger by the day? The prevalence of bandits and all-round increasing crime rates? And before we forget, most polytechnics and colleges of education have been on strike for over one year. Millions of citizens of the country sitting at home because the state says they must pass through an education to have a job. The number of young people becoming redundant in the society is alarming and should worry us. They cannot go to school and they cannot get jobs. Oh! The drama! And the one that takes it home; corruption! Our elected and appointed leaders are busy milking the country dry while wringing the necks of the poor man. We have serving ministers disbursing public fund for personal use, acquiring luxury that shows how easy it is to spend money ‘earned’ illicitly. All this while the poor man grows in his resentment of the status quo and the greener grass on the other side that mocks his poverty. The cross carpeting of politicians from parties they hailed as the holy grail to parties they rained all manner of libel against is not something that can be easily forgotten! Who in the hell would have thought that Femi Fani Kayode would be singing the government’s tune? Who would have thought the new Emir of Kano would withdraw his suit against the Federal Government
Disgusting Work Ethics
One of the first things most companies draft before they register themselves is usually an organizational structure. It doesn’t matter whether the company is a conglomerate or non-profit. This structure is explained to new staff as they take up their mantle of responsibility in the company. But like most ideals, there is always that company that defies laid out principles of business ethics. And if we are talking about Nigeria, we know that very many companies fall into this category. They never bother with any organizational structure; and where they do, it is usually not fully articulated to staff. If you are quick to disagree, then explain this: why else would security guards at their post interact with staff and visitors with great disrespect? Shocked? Don’t be! A certain lady told me she went to her office one day, only to be stopped at the gate by the security personnel. They asked her for her ID card. She told them she hadn’t one because she had lost hers and was awaiting the issuance of a new one. The security man, in the most disrespectful manner he could, told her to stand outside the premises as her case was a ‘special case’. She flew into a rage and asked if he would do her job for her that day. He looked at her blatantly and told her he didn’t want ‘too much talk’ and continued what he was originally doing. When she said she was going home, he said ‘better’ and continued what he was doing…which was gisting with his other colleagues! Now…that was a security officer! Some might be quick to say that he was just doing his job, but the first image of a company is from the security post! If the security man is callous and rude, you know that you can’t trust the company to be courteous. The lady in question said that she had worked for that company for almost two years, and as such, that treatment was totally unwarranted. If the company had trained their operatives well, the security guard could have said, ‘I’m sorry ma’am. I don’t know if you heard about the new policy regarding ID cards. As a result, we cannot let you in without one. Is there anyone you can call to help clear this inconvenience?’ That courteous statement alone would have meant that they did their jobs and still maintained decorum. But treating that lady as such was horrible. Same security personnel treated a customer with such disrespect that he took his business away. The customer made sure he contacted the bosses to let them know he was taking his business to the competition because of the attitude of the security guards. Long story short, no one was fired. In another company, it was reported that the company canteen was run by ladies who were very disrespectful. When staff members went in for meals, they would not so much as say ‘hi’ or ‘welcome’. They would stare at the staff with unfazed disgust and disdain. One began to wonder if the meals were free and the staff a bunch of homeless people lining up in front of a soup kitchen. One member of staff went at it with them, demanding respect and quality service. She reminded the ladies that she was paying for the food, not begging for it. When one person spoke up, the entire crew started complaining in agreement. It had to take collective criticism for them to get it into their heads that one cannot serve meals with dour facial expressions and a rotten mood. That mini revolution got the girls in check, though they started serving meals, especially to the men, like strippers looking for ones. Still speaking of food, a friend told me that a couple of his colleagues got into a physical fight in the office because one of them took food meant for the other. It was so bad that they had to be pried off each other before the fight ended. By this time, they had upending tables, destroyed property and even lost some blood. The manager was appalled but let them off the hook with a gentle pat on the wrist. How does a company allow fighters remain in its employ? Like how does this even work? Well, turns out the manager was a cheapskate who couldn’t afford to lose his grossly underpaid staff. I heard that in a certain company, the Muslim sisters perform their religious ablutions in the convenience sinks, raising their legs to the height of the sink to get their feet clean. I heard also (couldn’t help but be an aproko) that this method of ablution over time, put so much pressure on the sinks that one of it fell and broke! The toilet had to be locked to prevent further usage. All members of staff had to suffer for the acts of some! This is not isolated. I know that there are certain women in every company who carelessly dispose their pads, use the toilets without flushing, let the tap run and generally leave the toilet a less appealing sight than they met it. It is shameful that grown women (and men too) do nasty things little children wouldn’t. If that isn’t enough, you know of those companies that probably have two or three computers in each office and about ten staff members to those offices? Where everyone has to ‘book’ to use the computer? Yeah. So anyway, someone said he needed to use the computer in the office. This was at about 2pm. He said he needed to prepare documents for a presentation the next day. He kept telling one of his colleagues to let him use it so he could work. The colleague kept saying he would be done in a jiffy. This guy then proceeded to start writing his ideas down, so when the computer was free, he’d just type what he needed. He was so engrossed in his work, that he
The Proposal
Image: Xinature The sun kissed the waters in warm, flirty tones. The churning sea returned the kiss with as much fervor, reflecting the purple-burgundy complexion of her lover. The sun was withdrawing its warmth from the corners of the earth as she prepared to take a snooze. The wind, in defiance of the sun, picked up her dance, ruffling the trees clothing the bank of the seas. It wasn’t a surprise when the wind playfully lifted her skirts. She twirled and twirled, laughing, basking in the slowly-cooling dance of the wind and the ebbing heat of the sun. She was happy! It was her first time at the beach. Somehow, she got convinced to take a break from her usually hectic life. She felt so glad that she had come. Only one man could have made her do so. She stopped twirling, turned to him…and smiled. He walked languidly, until he was abreast with her, the squish-squish of the wet sand the only evidence he wasn’t gliding towards her. His smile said it all. He was happy too! And better still, he was happy that he made her happy. Like a child, she squealed in delight and jumped into his arms. He twirled her until she became dizzy. They both fell to the sand in ecstatic laughter. All was right with the world! Roy and Melanie were perfect for each other. They got up and started walking the wave-kissed bank, arm in arm, two love birds enjoying the last of the sun’s glory and the company of each other. Roy stopped Mel. She looked up at his tall, handsome physique, and still managed to blush while smiling. Roy’s face was set in stone. Something was wrong. He stared at Mel with such intensity that she began to fidget. ‘What is wrong baby?’ Roy stared at her for a few more seconds. He then dropped on one knee, taking her left hand. Mel gasped. She tried to pull away from him. He held her hand firmly. ‘Mel…’ he stared at her, his expression like someone who swallowed a wasp. He looked so uncomfortable that Mel wanted to run the other way. He put his hand in the back pocket of his loose slacks. Mel was fidgeted. ‘Roy…don-‘ He put his finger on her lips. ‘Shhhh! don’t speak baby.’ Mel kept quiet. She couldn’t speak if she wanted to. Blood rushed to her head. Roy turned his face away, like he was a king in a drama. Mel wondered if he was acting or really feeling all the emotions his face was showing. He pulled out something and with the toothiest grin ever, and opened his palm. In his hands was a Toblerone chocolate; dark Toblerone. ‘Why on earth don’t you like dark chocolate?’ he asked. Mel nearly died…of relief! She breathed out a huge ‘phewww!’ The blood rushed back to her face and her skin began to look more alive than before. She playfully jabbed him and pulled him up. She ended up hugging him. ‘I almost thought that was a proposal…whewwww! I just did-‘ She paused when she noticed that Roy was more interested in unwrapping the Toblerone than he was in listening to her. He had become all serious again and this time, Mel knew she was in trouble. Roy opened the chocolate and there in the shiny paper lay the most beautiful sapphire ring ever! ‘I love you baby…and I feel like I’ve been in heaven since we started dating. Well, not always heaven, but it is as close as it can get. I want to have this piece of heaven for all eternity. Will you, Melanie Davidson Olaolu, be my wife?’ This time, Mel pulled away from his arm. She took a couple of steps back from him. She had lost all color and happiness, becoming a picture in sadness. Roy could feel her soul disconnecting from him. It wasn’t just a physical pull-out. She began to wring out her fingers, a clear sign that her nervousness was beyond her control. ‘Mel…’ She pulled further away, such that she was no longer fully facing him. ‘Say something…’ Mel looked at him and he saw his answer in her face, her demeanor, and her sad eyes. She didn’t need to say it, but Roy needed to hear it. He needed to know that what he saw was really true. ‘Bae….I’m sorry.’ Roy crumbled, though he remained kneeling, whether by sheer will, or because his brain couldn’t move past the icebox that had suddenly frozen his heart. ‘I am not ready to get married any time soon. I want to wait for at least…’ she looked at his face, his stony expression and she shut up. He got up and stood looking at her. ‘We have been dating for four years. When is the right time to get married? Huh?’ The increase in the pitch of Roy’s voice wasn’t lost on Mel. He was definitely angry! ‘I just…phewww…marriage takes a lot out of a person. It sucks a person until they totally lose themselves in their spouses. With the rate of divorces in the world today, this is not an institution I want to rush into and just jump out when it gets hard; and it will get hard! So…I don’t want to lose myself before I’ve found me.’ She reached out to touch Roy but he shrugged her off. ‘Since you are all about finding yourself and not losing you, I hope it all works out fine because you just lost me.’ He said with certain finality. ‘Goodbye Melanie. Enjoy your great life. And… when you find you, tell her I said she is a coward who is too afraid to get out of her comfort zone and trust a person. You know what? Scratch that! Maybe I just dodged a bullet! Goodbye!’ With that, he stomped off in the direction of his car. The squish of the sand couldn’t remove the determined anger that every step signified. It didn’t matter that that was also Mel’s ride.
Sparing The Koboko
Angry Black Girl. Credit: Discover the Space So…have you taken time out to notice the behaviors of kids today? Do you see that the methods with which kids are raised now is far far different from how we were raised? And does the blatant disrespect from kids give you the chills as it does me? I’m at that point where I wish we can go back in time, if for nothing else but the discipline which our parents instilled in us. The other day, I noticed a trend in a neighbor’s kid. This baby girl should be about 5 years old. She has not learnt to greet older people as is the custom of most African homes. She would actually stare at an older person until her mother tells her to greet. Even with the prodding from her mother, she would stare at the person and blatantly refuse to greet. What is worse is that she stares at much older people in the eye, leaving a sinister feeling crawling down the spine of the person. What baffled me was when I noticed that as early as 6am (when I’m rushing out to work), this little girl gets up and goes out of the compound, walks the length of the street and finally chooses a house to go to. What in God’s name is a 5-year old doing traipsing the streets at 6am?! What are her parents doing when she is ‘making the rounds’? And in this North-Eastern region where girls are easy targets, why are the parents not worried about a baby girl walking up and down town when no one can watch over and protect her? It is so annoying even that when you try to correct this girl, she puts on this quelling look that seems to say, ‘What you gone do about it? Huh?’ The nerve! It gets worse. I was returning home one night, when this kid saw me. He raised his torchlight (as it was quite dark) and flashed it directly in my face. Now, I deliberately assumed he made a mistake, so I didn’t have to take off my shoes and beat the black off his skin. In my assumption, I hoped he would apologize, lower his flashlight, and show some iota of courteous behavior by probably greeting me and/or asking for my handbag. I was too busy making these assumptions to actually think it might not go that way. When it dawned on me that he wouldn’t do so was when the light remained in my face for more minutes than was respectfully necessary. I stopped in the middle of the street and gave him the look. Only then did he drop the flash light, make a detour around me, and continued on his way to wherever he was heading. Now, this boy shouldn’t be more than 13 years. He started acting this way when I cautioned him on the use of curse words. He said something in Hausa while I was passing and I gave him a serious dressing down. Does it feel like curse words in our local languages are dirtier than in English language? Anyway, that is a topic for another day. From that day, I guess his hormones kicked in and he started acting up. I was tempted to hold him down and get some sense into his skull but I am pretty scared of the reciprocal treatment I will get from the police. So….I ignored it, shook my head, squared my shoulders and walked on to my house. Angry Black Boy. Image: GodZone I wouldn’t have bothered about writing this piece if another incident hadn’t occurred. Called a girlfriend and asked that we go to the beauty shop. She got dressed and we headed to our regular stylist. When we got there, the shop was full, but only one person stood out for me. She was a pretty little girl. She had such a striking resemblance to our stylist that we couldn’t help but ask if she was her daughter. Now you see, as long as we had been going there, we knew she was married and had kids, but we had never met any of them. When she told us that was her daughter, we gushed a bit over her. I should have kept my gushing to myself! The about-seven-year old gave us this aloof look and went to sit in the corner. Hurt a bit, I asked what her problem was and before her mum could respond, the little girl said she didn’t talk to strangers. I looked at my friend, and we shrugged. Secretly, I was proud that her mum was raising her with good principles, but I was worried that she was bold enough to tell us that to our faces. As we got our beauty on, the stylist kept regaling us with stories that had us laughing and generally having fun. Somewhere in that line of fun conversation, the mother started talking about a seasonal Pilipino telenovella she had watched. While that was my cue to shut up, little miss I-don’t-talk-to-strangers piped up and got into the conversation. She started talking of the telenovellas that were more interesting. Now, the silence from all the customers was probably because we would never have interrupted in a conversation our mothers were having. The silence was awkward for a while until the mother broke it by asking her daughter about the one they had watched the night before. My friend and I shared another look and we saw the other ladies also sharing a look. The little girl went on and on and after a while, we seemed to adjust to the fact that the girl had been taught that she could join in on adult conversation. What jolted us back to reality was when one of the customers urged the little girl to stop combing her hair too frequently. Her mum teased her about not even having the hair to comb and she flew
