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  • Walt Shakes

    Walt Shakes

    Walter Ude (@Walt_Shakes) is an award-winning Nigerian writer, poet and veteran blogger. He is a lover of the written word. the faint whiff of nature, the flashing vista of movies, the warmth of companionship and the happy sound of laughter. He blogs at mymindsnaps.wordpress.com.

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‘I reject my share of this national insult.’ Wole Soyinka Speaks Out In A New Write-up

Wole-SoyinkaThere has been some furor over the Centenary Awards given out as part of Nigeria’s Centenary celebration. Amongst the voices speaking out on the issue is Prof. Wole Soyinka. The Nobel laureate, on Saturday March 1st, said he rejected the centenary award conferred on him by the Federal Government because late military dictator, Gen. Sani Abacha, was included in the list of awardees. He speaks out in a write-up titled ‘The Canonisation of Terror.’ Read below. (more…)

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THE QUINTESSENCE OF BEAUTY

We have been coached to abstract the idea of beauty as being perfect; Perfect physique, perfect eyes, perfect nose, perfect lips, and perfect hair – in other words, too perfect to be human.

It seems to me that once you have moved up your way to the top of the entertainment industry and have being elevated from being a mere human to a super-perfect star, then – and only then – can you be called “beautiful”.

The question of who decides who is beautiful is one that has always puzzled me. So I did a bit of investigating on my own. I asked around for my usual company to define beauty. I got answers like “J-Lo”, “Brad Pitt”, “Halle Berry”, and “Beyoncé”. In some instances, some even tossed out “Genevieve Nnaji” and “RMD”. I rest my case. (more…)

“We Must Celebrate 100 Years.” – Charles Novia

The following article was written by Charles Novia on his official website – charlesnoviadaily.com. Read and ponder.

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Marketing-the-Nigeria-CenteThose poor kids killed by the brainless Boko Haramists will have their death avenged by a Higher Power whose justice cannot be questioned.

However, I wholly disagree with those asking why the Centenary Celebrations should continue this week because of the death of those poor souls. Let us celebrate a nation at crossroads. A failed state finding the right path to success. A stupid citizenry which would castigate its leaders from their hallowed chambers of political and social inertia and yet do nothing, absolutely nothing when the call is made to start a revolution. (more…)

THE PRIEST I KNOW

others 62Welcome Reverend Father.

I am honoured to have you come. Though I thought you’d be here with your family: your brothers. Your father, the bishop – or is he an archbishop now? Your sister, the nun – and how’s your cousin, the pastor? I’m glad they are all okay, and I trust you’ll take back a lobe of the kola I present you as our custom demands, to show you were indeed here. Therein they can chew and taste the message for which I requested your presence.

And indeed it is not too much of a reason that compelled me to make you come all the way. So bear with me if, when I’m done, you feel like the toad that ran a course during the day for no reason.

I have summoned you here for a very simple inquiry: What is wrong with you? (more…)

TESTAMENT OF RAGE

There was no presentiment for what happened. No warning that my life was going to soon change forever. Perhaps there should have been. Sketchy images in a dream. A sudden flash of foreboding in my subconscious. A frozen moment with eyes staring vacantly into a fleeting film of the future. Anything. Something to prepare my thirteen-year-old self of the twist that swooped down on me like a hawk bolting down from the sky and snatching at the chick nearest to its claws.

“I will go with you,” Mum insisted on the evening after my uncle, David, called from the village with news. Papa had fallen ill and Dad’s presence, seeing as he was the eldest son in the family, was urgently needed.

“But I thought you are doing something at the Local Government office,” Dad said in protest. “You should finish your business with the government people before coming down to the village. You know how the idiots at that place behave sometimes.”

Dad was right. (more…)

MORNING DEVOTION

“Dear Father in Heaven – the Lord of Hosts – the Beginning and the End – the Great I am that I am…”

Daddy was just warming up to his supplication with a litany of God’s names that he usually started with every time we had our morning prayers.

“Jehovah Jireh – the King of kings and the Lord of lords – the Great Provider, Father we bless you. We thank you, Lord, for this brand new day…”

I yawned and tried to will my sleepy brain cells to focus on the words of the prayer, which was not an easy feat, considering I was kneeling and half-lying on the settee. The soft cushions begged me to give in to the unfinished call of Mother Nature. (more…)

The Things They Say…about coveting Chiwetel Ejiofor

BgwkBb_IUAATqeqEllen DeGeneres to Chiwetel Ejiofor: “Where are you from?” Chiwetel: “I’m from London.” Ellen: “Originally from London?” Chiwetel: Yeah. But my family is Nigerian. (See video here)

Someone please get that clip to the Enugu State government before they prepare an Igbo wife and a chieftaincy title for the British actor, seeing as they have taken out a full page ad in The Nation newspaper to congratulate him for his BAFTAs Best Actor win.

And then a Facebook acquaintance, Joy Isi Bewaji, shares what he thinks about this issue. Read below and ponder. (more…)

WHY CAN’T HE JUST BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE? – Chimamanda Adichie

This piece, first published in TheScoopng.com, is a very compelling argument penned by a very compelling woman. There have been many things written since the signing of the Nigerian anti-gay bill, some for and some others decrying it. Many more things will be written, I’m sure. In the meantime, here’s Chimamanda’s take. Read and let us know your thoughts.

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WHY CAN’T HE JUST BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE? 

Chimamanda AdichieI will call him Sochukwuma. A thin, smiling boy who liked to play with us girls at the university primary school in Nsukka. We were young. We knew he was different, we said, ‘he’s not like the other boys.’ But his was a benign and unquestioned difference; it was simply what it was. We did not have a name for him. We did not know the word ‘gay.’ He was Sochukwuma and he was friendly and he played oga so well that his side always won. (more…)

MY PASTOR SAID. . .

Remember Eketi? That delightfully funny friend of mine whose satiric anti-gay post got more than a few laughs here? (Read HERE) Well, she’s at it again. This one is more of an admonition though, than it is geared to amuse. But she hits some very high points. Read and enjoy.

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wasting_preaching_851281052Someone recently asked for tips on what to do on dates with her fiancé and someone’s honest reply was “Ask your pastor…..he will guide you.”

I must have missed the memo that appointed many pastors as professional matchmakers. They now run lucrative matchmaking services in their places of worship, in addition to the work of pastoring. It is appalling to increasingly find men and women, who delegate the task off spouse-finding to their pastors and some who manage to find for themselves are discouraged or turned away from their choices, all in the name of “My pastor said she/he is not the right one for me.” (more…)

ROSES ARE RED, VIOLETS ARE BLUE. . .

Ogechi was nervous, as nervous as any new wife would be on her wedding night.

Except this wasn’t her wedding night. It was the night of Valentine, and her wedding had been last Saturday. Yes, it had been her traditional wedding, but still, it was a ceremony that had sanctioned her union to Benson Ogbu. Even though the groom hadn’t been present, what with all the engagements he had to tidy up back where he lived and worked in the UK. It didn’t matter to her that she had had to hand over the traditional cup of palm wine to Benson’s brother, Ikenna. After all, Ikenna was family, and it was said that when you married a man, you married his family too. It didn’t also bother her that she didn’t know Benson very well. Their courtship could be summed up in a few phone calls, after her mother had passed her photograph to his mother, who in turn emailed it to her son, who viewed it, approved and made contact. Then there was that awkward first meeting when he visited Nigeria briefly last year, a meeting that was chaperoned by their mothers (who were best friends and dreamed of having best-friend grandchildren). He liked her even better in real life, and she didn’t think he was bad-looking either. He had money, she had beauty. They got on well together, and even shared a few laughs and good conversation. He liked that she was so well-mannered, and she liked that he respected her wish not to tumble into bed with him until after their wedding. The most intimacy they’d shared was a few chaste kisses he gave her on the lips and the steamy phone sex conversations they engaged in when he returned to the UK. She was positive that that was enough. (more…)

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