The Sad Case of the Jos Blasts

Originally posted on Muntasir's blog:

It is with great anguish and heavyheartedness I’m penning this down. My beloved city of birth; Jos was under attack again after almost two years of relative peace. This is the city I love very much and call home. This blast came two days after the bomb blasts in Sabon gari, Kano in which many lives were lost. Clearly we’re up against an enemy or enemies who are so desperate and determined to destroy this nation.
I was in the library together with my friend Bakson Moses preparing for a test later in the day when we heard a heavy sound. Immediately, the Librarian confirmed it to us that it was a bomb blast and asked us all to leave the library. Before I knew it, the whole University was in confusion. Everybody was rushing out of the school. From school, we could see the smoke from terminus market which…

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The Daughter That Wasn’t Mine.

Originally posted on ememesi's blog:

Today, while attending to some issues on fashion, I was reminded of an episode that occurred a few months ago.
It was a Saturday afternoon with enough heat and sunlight to make a man lazy. I really wanted to stay indoors but I had to go see my tailor. Yours truly had just acquired a spanking new shirt that was somewhat flabby on the sides and needed to be cut to shape. So off to the tailor I went.

A few yards from the man’s shop, a little girl ran towards me and hugged me.
“Uncle has coooome,” she shrilled with her tiny voice.
That’s probably not a reason to worry, except, I didn’t know this girl. I did a quick scan of my recent memory and tried to locate even a fragment of recognition but nothing came up. Oh well, I shrugged it off. She was probably a kid…

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What’s really behind Nigeria’s kidnapped girls: a very weak president

Originally posted on Quartz:

Like US president Barack Obama, Nigerian leader Goodluck Jonathan gave people hope.

After all, the story goes, he was the son of canoe makers who grew up without shoes in the Niger Delta area but lifted himself out of poverty through education.

Not just a university degree, but a PhD. He became a symbol that, no matter the circumstances of birth in Africa’s most populous country, one could rise to the highest levels of political success: the Aso Rock villa.  That’s Nigeria’s “White House.”

Yet there were elements of luck too. Jonathan was twice a running mate who was elevated because his principals could not serve out their terms.   As vice president, he kept a low profile but then his boss died in office, elevating him to the top job.

The tale of a poor man, not part of any political dynasty who rose to be president by the dint of his hard work…

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BOKO HARAM: a ‘Thou Shalt NOT’ list

Originally posted on Chisom Ojukwu - Words are Work:

Boko Haram

Sometime between the night of April 14 and the morning of April 15, terrorists invaded Government Girls Secondary School, Chibok in Borno state, Northeastern Nigeria; they were clad in military uniforms, armed and in trucks. When they left the school, they reportedly carted away 234 teenage girls (roughly between 16 and 18 years old) who were then in the school to write a paper in the West African Secondary School Certificate Examination. Most schools in Bornu and other states of Northeastern Nigeria had been forced close before this time due to the recurrence of such attacks which often left students and teachers dead and kidnapped; these attacks were claimed by Boko Haram, a terrorist group. The group traces its inception to 2002 and has officially adopted the name “the Congregation of the People of Tradition for Proselytism and Jihad”, which is an English translation of Arabic, Jamā’at ahl as-sunnah li-d-da’wa wa-l-jihād.

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#RantsOfABrokeArtist Vol.2

Originally posted on Dike Chiedozie's Blog:

Talent is never enough. If it was I’d be an international bestselling author, have a Tribeca condo, and maybe spend my summers in any country where I’d be pitting my characters to play out their lives. If talent was enough I wouldn’t flinch at my bank statements —wait, scratch that; the banks don’t even bother. I’m too much of a small fry, except for the debit alerts and the rarer credit alerts.

If talent was enough I’d be able to make a living from doing what I love the most: writing. But I’m not because it’s a lot more complicated than that. In the real world the final consumers of any work of art are a “market” and more often than not are ensnared by the trappings of economics and good advertising, not necessarily about content, seeing as the forces that serve as conduit between the artist and the final…

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Most Eventful Saturday EVER!!!

Originally posted on thewittyjournalblog:

Dear Diary,

           Today has been the most eventful Saturday EVER!!!

1. House-hunting.
   I am still on that parole my dear. 
Mr Agent took me to the end of Kilo, to Itire. You haven’t seen hood like that hood. I was scared for my life. Those rats that terrorise me at home were just lying dead all over the dirty streets. Even the children are trained hunters. The place was filthy. EVERYONE ELSE was yoruba (I’m not a ‘tribalism’, please don’t judge me. Try to understand. I would live with all Yoruba folks in Lekki or Ikoyi, not Itire). And my house was at the very end of this street, Karunwi.
I just couldn’t.

2. Crazy ex-girlfriends

I ran into this girl I used to talk to back in University. She was a nut case back in the day; all suicidal, low on herself and what-not. I had talked…

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Originally posted on HARD VOICES:

I am not here to talk about why she didn’t accept you. No, not now. There are a thousand and one and half reasons why she says no to your feeble proposal. Here, I want to lay bare the reasons why after accepting you and ‘eating’ your money (how much do you even have?) for six months or five years, she walks out on you, saying ‘it can’t work’ or ‘I need a break’ or ‘I found someone’ and all those clichés girls memorise in Nollywood. That is, if she is ‘mature’ enough, otherwise she just stops picking your calls and do everything in her power to avoid you, as though you are the prince of the cholera plague. When this happens you are heart-broken and want to drink water pie (or is it ota pia pia?). Not so fast, bro, let’s look at your (ex)queen’s reasons for saying ‘I…

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My Beer Story

Originally posted on captainquest:

Hey guys!

I know, I know, I’ve been terribly inconsistent here. I apologise.
It’s just that this hustle ehn, it is realer than the hair on most people’s heads (guys inclusive these days).
I have to keep the #BumLife financed and the bills paid, so free time to come out and play has been in ridiculously short supply.
Still, I apologise.

Aaanyway, I have something I just stumbled on and I’d like to share.It’s commercial work (part of aforementioned hustle) that I did for the company website of one of our illustrious watering holes.
It’s a set of five posts chronicling what happened when a certain fellow imbibed something he probably shouldn’t have.

The story generally revolves around a guy called Ejiro, an easy-going, happy-go-lucky, concept developer at a corporate communications agency in Lagos. He works hard and loves to have fun. Ejiro also likes good alcohol but isn’t very…

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Mymindsnaps dotcomThis may very well be my last post on this wordpress forum. This is to enable me focus on the newer forum, My publicist tells me that I need much more traffic on the new website to make it in Hollywood . . . er, sorry, the blogosphere. (Damn this Lupita fever!)

And so, on that note, I urge you, my dear readers to maintain your presence on the new site and spread the word when you can. Thanks. :)


Eze Goes To School“From the left, quick march! Left-right! Left-right! Left-right!”

The legs of the students in the rectangular lineup went up and down like pistons as they marked time to Senior Olumide’s hollered commands.

“Left-right! Left-right! Left-raaaaiiiight!”

In unison, the feet crunched down on the ground, lifted and thudded down again. Senior Olumide weaved his way through the well-spaced lines, yelling as he moved, his eyes zipping about as he looked searchingly at the students under his command.

“Left-right! Left-right! Left-raaaaiiiight!” Read the full post »

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