Friday 28 December 2007
Saturday 24 November 2007
MAX PLANK AND OTHER STORIES
Max Planck's dad was a professor of Constitutional Law at the University of Kiel, Germany and he invariably wanted his last son, Max, to study law like all his siblings had. To his dad's consternation Max decided not to study law but physics and he eventually did at the University of Kiel. Before he took the plunge his prof-dad reminded him that all the discoveris there were to make had already been made in the field of physics. Then came the year 1900, the year Prof Max discovered the constant called Planck's, h. His discovery changed the face of physics and became the foundation for a new field of physics -Quantum Mechanics. Before his discovry scientists had thought that electromagnetic radiation could not exist as both wave and partile. Now they know better. That was Planck's effect in a field where all the discoveries had already been made.
The moral of this story is that in an environment infestd with negatives we should still learn to unleash our detrmination, and frustrate tradition with our creativity.
In the midst of a struggling economy we could still extract solutions to our power problems and stop the over-dependence on oi; we could better our educational system, and change the face of our science and tehnology,we could add somthing to Nigeria.
If only we think there are still discoveries to be made.
A pal sent me this mail months ago:
I had a closer look at the cieling of the auditorium in school a few days back and I maveled at the cost and amount of effort needed to clean up the ceiling at such a deadly height. quickly it occured to my mind that knowledge truely is power as biotechnology can solve it all by studying closely the neucleotide sequence behind the cob web production in a wild type domestic spider or precisely that specie thriving in the auditorium hall. once this is done, tangible effort at altering the loci responsible for the thickness of the cob-web can be achieved. if this success is attainable the mutagenic agent canbe packaged in an air freshner-like spray which we can at home or in the hall spray on the ceilings and the walls such that it infect the eggs, contaminate the already spinned cob webs, and the spiders themselves.
Still In the line of duty, as a biotechnologist,
I want to say I have missed you and its been more challenging having to do all the thinking alone.
we hope to meet some day and sharpen each other up again just like irons do to each other.
I know you will do well wherever you find yourself.
well now you are specializing in clinicals and I in applied BioTech., we will still have something to gain from each other anyday.
miss you Bashorun TK.
He writes..............Pyran, the bioinfomatist
Did you catch the tinge?
Saturday 3 November 2007
1995. JSSx. FEDERAL COLLEGE.
RAPTURE WAS DEVASTATING. Tall, lean, dark. He’d drift into the Junior Block when hunger bellowed. I bet his hunger was as long as he was tall, and wild. And he never came alone; he was always armed with a paint bucket, his idea of a plate, ready to sweep away FOOD. He’d drift in, noiselessly, with a hideous sneer on the face. Eyes sharp as a needle, seeking boys for prey.
Sanni and friends were in the Locker Room yapping all they could. Sanni, wanting to eat, had withdrawn his tins of Bournvita, milk and box of sugar, all new, unjacked, from the safety of his locker and was about jacking them goodies. And Rapture wafted past. He was unnoticed amidst all the yapping. The yapping continued. The fact that he, a whole Rapture, could have gone past them without some sign of recognition or trepidation, as the case might have been, surprised him, and stirred him. He stopped. Pulled a reverse. The yapping stopped. And he made for Sanni.
"Do you own all these?"
"Yes"
"I’m hungry. I need food. Put your elder brother’s portion here."
Rapture handed him the cover of the sugar box. And Sanni proceeded to put six cubes of sugar, six spoons, or thereabout, each of milk and Bournvita into the box. There was still in the room. More still between Sanni and his predator. Then, Rapture took the almost 4/4 full tins of milk, Bournvita, and the box of sugar, St. Louis sugar o, and emptied them all, one after the other, into his bucket plate and was wafting out as silently as he’d come. Everybody was dumbstruck, even Sanni, who was the first to recover and immediately began yelling "I’ll go and report! I’ll go and report!"
Rapture turned, made for the empty sugar box, tore the large square middle out, drew a biro out of his pocket, scribbled his biodata and handed Sanni the complimentary card, with a calm statement, "Go and report." Sanni was flabbergasted and it took a long time to recover from this second salvo. He couldn’t report. He was scared. Those seniors had an unrelenting penchant for torture even after they’d been punished by a master. Since you’d live with them everyday and not with a master, it was almost logical not to report some sinister cases.
Friends just laughed and laughed, laughed at Sanni. Sanni was a headstrong chap and had boasted he’d take no nonsense from any senior, prior then. His dad was a police. I doubt if he even reported that case of first degree pilfery to his cop dad. If it had befallen any one of the boys, no probs, but Sanni . . . it was amusing.
Rapture was an SSS3 student. One of those who lived in the House they called White.
Now, imagine another incident like this. Where a boy is torn between the Devil and the Red Sea and doesn’t know what to do. What would you do?
The boy was yards between Mr Mohammed and one other wicked senior. The master called the boy, and the senior called the boy.
The master called the boy. The senior called, anti-called the boy.
The boy was confused. The master called, "Come here," he hadn’t sighted the senior, "come here, now." The senior sniggered at the boy and said, "If you go, hn." The boy didn’t move, his legs were shaking.
The man was surprised until he saw the senior "Hahn, Adekunle, I’m calling someone and you are preventing him from coming. Ki lo ma n se eyin omo won i." I think he then said "Oya, you, Adekunle, come here yourself." Adekunle did not listen o, he just gamboled away, disrespectfully. "Adekunle!" yelled Mr Mohammed "Adekunle, where are you going to?"
The fellow didn’t mind, he gamboled away. . . I left the College in ‘ninety nine before my graduation. Gained admission in two thousand and one. Actually two. Strike. I recall seeing some seniors, wicked ones too, I was now ahead of. Who says seniority might not be pangolo itself. I’ve not said it is.
. . . Gbenga ‘Sesan went to my school o.
Sanni and friends were in the Locker Room yapping all they could. Sanni, wanting to eat, had withdrawn his tins of Bournvita, milk and box of sugar, all new, unjacked, from the safety of his locker and was about jacking them goodies. And Rapture wafted past. He was unnoticed amidst all the yapping. The yapping continued. The fact that he, a whole Rapture, could have gone past them without some sign of recognition or trepidation, as the case might have been, surprised him, and stirred him. He stopped. Pulled a reverse. The yapping stopped. And he made for Sanni.
"Do you own all these?"
"Yes"
"I’m hungry. I need food. Put your elder brother’s portion here."
Rapture handed him the cover of the sugar box. And Sanni proceeded to put six cubes of sugar, six spoons, or thereabout, each of milk and Bournvita into the box. There was still in the room. More still between Sanni and his predator. Then, Rapture took the almost 4/4 full tins of milk, Bournvita, and the box of sugar, St. Louis sugar o, and emptied them all, one after the other, into his bucket plate and was wafting out as silently as he’d come. Everybody was dumbstruck, even Sanni, who was the first to recover and immediately began yelling "I’ll go and report! I’ll go and report!"
Rapture turned, made for the empty sugar box, tore the large square middle out, drew a biro out of his pocket, scribbled his biodata and handed Sanni the complimentary card, with a calm statement, "Go and report." Sanni was flabbergasted and it took a long time to recover from this second salvo. He couldn’t report. He was scared. Those seniors had an unrelenting penchant for torture even after they’d been punished by a master. Since you’d live with them everyday and not with a master, it was almost logical not to report some sinister cases.
Friends just laughed and laughed, laughed at Sanni. Sanni was a headstrong chap and had boasted he’d take no nonsense from any senior, prior then. His dad was a police. I doubt if he even reported that case of first degree pilfery to his cop dad. If it had befallen any one of the boys, no probs, but Sanni . . . it was amusing.
Rapture was an SSS3 student. One of those who lived in the House they called White.
Now, imagine another incident like this. Where a boy is torn between the Devil and the Red Sea and doesn’t know what to do. What would you do?
The boy was yards between Mr Mohammed and one other wicked senior. The master called the boy, and the senior called the boy.
The master called the boy. The senior called, anti-called the boy.
The boy was confused. The master called, "Come here," he hadn’t sighted the senior, "come here, now." The senior sniggered at the boy and said, "If you go, hn." The boy didn’t move, his legs were shaking.
The man was surprised until he saw the senior "Hahn, Adekunle, I’m calling someone and you are preventing him from coming. Ki lo ma n se eyin omo won i." I think he then said "Oya, you, Adekunle, come here yourself." Adekunle did not listen o, he just gamboled away, disrespectfully. "Adekunle!" yelled Mr Mohammed "Adekunle, where are you going to?"
The fellow didn’t mind, he gamboled away. . . I left the College in ‘ninety nine before my graduation. Gained admission in two thousand and one. Actually two. Strike. I recall seeing some seniors, wicked ones too, I was now ahead of. Who says seniority might not be pangolo itself. I’ve not said it is.
. . . Gbenga ‘Sesan went to my school o.
Thursday 25 October 2007
WHAT I THINK ABOUT ETTEH
Mrs Patricaia Olubunmi Etteh appears to be the most popular Etteh in the world at the moment. How do i know? Log on to GOOGLE.COM, type Etteh in the space and ENTER. You have a full page out of 152,600 popping out first. Unfortunately the page doesn't seem to have 'headlines' that praise her. What you've got is stuffs like this allAfrica.com:Etteh-I won't be pushed..., Resign, Soyinka tells Etteh, etcetera.
Wednesday 17 October 2007
NOT EXACTLY BACK...
I've been fogged out of the Blog-o-sphere 'cos of exams. I've had four. And there's just one left. Next week. Tuesday. Till then.
Tuesday 18 September 2007
I THINK I THOUGHT
Was walking through High Rise, UNILAG on saturday, enjoying cool breeze before i walked into the thick web of a brainwave. I think we began - we:I and I - about the conditions that condition you to be you. The conditions that make a man think the way he is at present. What makes men think differently from men. One appears to be the attraction of two repulsive forces - Forces of good and foeces of bad. They battle frantically for his soul, spirit, mind with equal interest. But interestingly you are still master to them both, you are like a referee between two wrestlers with rippling muscles - a referee with the power to decide who wins, until you decide to give any of them the reins of your life. It thus solely depends on you who should win.. . ..... . .
Monday 17 September 2007
TRUE COLORS
think of a Naija policeman
think of a the color of the Naira
think of the color of a Naija number plate
Black helmet, black uniform.
Green and free.
Blue? You release a green.
Red? Don’t leave go of a red,
Not even a green,
Nobody’s talking pink here,
Make life better. Otherwise,
It could be a black day
Better still a red day.
You’d simply be mailed
Beyond the deep blue sky.
Red eyes, brown/black teeth,
Would libel you
A bloody red thief.
God help you to skip past the
Red zone.
think of a the color of the Naira
think of the color of a Naija number plate
Black helmet, black uniform.
Green and free.
Blue? You release a green.
Red? Don’t leave go of a red,
Not even a green,
Nobody’s talking pink here,
Make life better. Otherwise,
It could be a black day
Better still a red day.
You’d simply be mailed
Beyond the deep blue sky.
Red eyes, brown/black teeth,
Would libel you
A bloody red thief.
God help you to skip past the
Red zone.
Friday 10 August 2007
WHAT'S WRONG WITH PASTOR ADEBOYE'S BAN?
This don't dress skimpily saga is slowly steaming.
Funmi Iyanda and co. victims.
And then the RCCG proclamation or better still anticlamation against trousered females. Fad is what split his church into two factions: the Model and the Classics. On campus, here in the UNILAG, there are two fellowships of the same church - the Sovereign Army and the RCF. One's conservative (RCF), the other's radical (Sovereign Army), their attitudes are diametric but they are of the same Church. Where's the unity in the church? Is Christ Divided? I think the Pastor took a right decision to stop the mess.
Now don't go thinking something's wrong with everything.
And i really think they should start the enforcement on the campuses, UNILAG especially.
Funmi Iyanda and co. victims.
And then the RCCG proclamation or better still anticlamation against trousered females. Fad is what split his church into two factions: the Model and the Classics. On campus, here in the UNILAG, there are two fellowships of the same church - the Sovereign Army and the RCF. One's conservative (RCF), the other's radical (Sovereign Army), their attitudes are diametric but they are of the same Church. Where's the unity in the church? Is Christ Divided? I think the Pastor took a right decision to stop the mess.
Now don't go thinking something's wrong with everything.
And i really think they should start the enforcement on the campuses, UNILAG especially.
DISTRACTIONS, ATTRACTIONS, THE INDEX OF CHANGE
This semester started with distractions. First, with a strike that swallowed what was meant to be a break. Succeeded by a period which was meant to be for lectures but then lectures aborted before dawn. Lectures were eventually birthed albeit by a caesarian section of Mass Prayer-Assisted FG-ASUU negotiations. It was a period when different hitherto unknown clubs sprung out of no where. A blizzard of Hall Weeks just hit us. Weeks ago was the Amina Hall Week. Now's the Kofo Hall Week. Still to come is the Biobaku Hall Week. Haven't heard of Jaja's, Mariere's. I'm not sure Moremi's had theirs. MTN wuz here, Glo wuz here with their Campus Storm. Irapada wuz here. Prince of the Savannah wuz here. A number of Sex, Dating and Marriage seminars wuz here too. Football Matches between departments - the Dean's Cup (i guess) - should be ongoing. Block to Block matches are being organized. Room to Room and even Bunk to Bunk matches are brewing.Praise Nites . . . list is endless.
The attractions were the TMC IV (starring Harris steve for Fela Durotoye), RISE MAG's motivational conference at Aquatic Hall (Fela Durotoye, Gamaliel Onosode were in attendance), Perisseuo '007.
The oncoming, equally important, ones are the 8th of August JCI-powered confererence on enterpreneurship featuring Funmi Iyanda and Gbenga Sesan who were both a year older sometimes last month nad another on the 18th (featuring Gbenga Sesan (again) and Niyi Adesanya of Fifth Gear).
The Library's been, amidst all these, appreciably populated. Results - first semester's - are popping out one after the other - a couple of those it didn't favour too well are beginning to library.
There was nothing unusual about the week. It was the usual sight of yahoozees: females and males in their teeming numbers. The usual sight of sugar dads and their aristo Daughters, kissing and having sex - on car bonnets, under the flower bed, in the dark alleys and shady reading rooms - yeah, it’s that bad in UNILAG.
Caught a cold – catarrh, which lead to headache and I had to buy Procold® which I haven’t used still. The high point of the week probably was the mail sent me from WORDRIOT saying they’d publish a couple of my works – poetry – in a future issue and that I write well and in an interesting fashion – My! That was a fillip – at least that forces a sense of worth into one, now I know my works are a li’l good enough – still hoping to get more positive responses from a couple of other publishers.
I recall reading the headliners – haven't read a newspaper through and through for so long a time now – school’s got a way of keeping you insulated from the real world – it fuzzes your head what with you in the midst of poly-painted gals and fancifully dressed yahoozees driving sleek rides – everybody walkin’ and talkin’ like they doesn’t shit. Yeah, the headliners had it that a number of former Nigerian governors arraigned for fraud had been granted bail. I recall one of them even had as little as a hundred and seven count (107) charge and one of them was even bold enough to weep in court – lamenting a change in his status – in the presence of his family – wife, children and all. Did someone not ask when will Africa be free from being caused with it’s leaders…and youth.
Yeah, youth.
In Liberia, it’s a poisoned group of young’uns that know only guns and knives and haven’t had education for more than a decade.
Almost same in Togo.
Sudan’s unpeaceful.
Nigeria relatively is, but isn’t. It’s got an army of unemployed and unschooled.
The schooled ain’t ready to work.
If you, today, walk into a cyber café that’s got 20 systems, you’ll find 18 yahoozees. If in the next 2 months you walk into that same cyber café with 20 systems still and you find just 10 of ‘em. Then, things have begun to change in Naija. That’ s my own index of change.
The Nigerian Renaissance must begin in every sole Nigerian mind, not just a crop of 'em.
The attractions were the TMC IV (starring Harris steve for Fela Durotoye), RISE MAG's motivational conference at Aquatic Hall (Fela Durotoye, Gamaliel Onosode were in attendance), Perisseuo '007.
The oncoming, equally important, ones are the 8th of August JCI-powered confererence on enterpreneurship featuring Funmi Iyanda and Gbenga Sesan who were both a year older sometimes last month nad another on the 18th (featuring Gbenga Sesan (again) and Niyi Adesanya of Fifth Gear).
The Library's been, amidst all these, appreciably populated. Results - first semester's - are popping out one after the other - a couple of those it didn't favour too well are beginning to library.
There was nothing unusual about the week. It was the usual sight of yahoozees: females and males in their teeming numbers. The usual sight of sugar dads and their aristo Daughters, kissing and having sex - on car bonnets, under the flower bed, in the dark alleys and shady reading rooms - yeah, it’s that bad in UNILAG.
Caught a cold – catarrh, which lead to headache and I had to buy Procold® which I haven’t used still. The high point of the week probably was the mail sent me from WORDRIOT saying they’d publish a couple of my works – poetry – in a future issue and that I write well and in an interesting fashion – My! That was a fillip – at least that forces a sense of worth into one, now I know my works are a li’l good enough – still hoping to get more positive responses from a couple of other publishers.
I recall reading the headliners – haven't read a newspaper through and through for so long a time now – school’s got a way of keeping you insulated from the real world – it fuzzes your head what with you in the midst of poly-painted gals and fancifully dressed yahoozees driving sleek rides – everybody walkin’ and talkin’ like they doesn’t shit. Yeah, the headliners had it that a number of former Nigerian governors arraigned for fraud had been granted bail. I recall one of them even had as little as a hundred and seven count (107) charge and one of them was even bold enough to weep in court – lamenting a change in his status – in the presence of his family – wife, children and all. Did someone not ask when will Africa be free from being caused with it’s leaders…and youth.
Yeah, youth.
In Liberia, it’s a poisoned group of young’uns that know only guns and knives and haven’t had education for more than a decade.
Almost same in Togo.
Sudan’s unpeaceful.
Nigeria relatively is, but isn’t. It’s got an army of unemployed and unschooled.
The schooled ain’t ready to work.
If you, today, walk into a cyber café that’s got 20 systems, you’ll find 18 yahoozees. If in the next 2 months you walk into that same cyber café with 20 systems still and you find just 10 of ‘em. Then, things have begun to change in Naija. That’ s my own index of change.
The Nigerian Renaissance must begin in every sole Nigerian mind, not just a crop of 'em.
Tuesday 31 July 2007
WHAT IS A BLOG?
The blogosphere is continuing to grow, with a weblog created every second, according to blog trackers Technorati.
In its latest State of the Blogosphere report, it said the number of blogs it was tracking . . .http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/4737671.stm
In its latest State of the Blogosphere report, it said the number of blogs it was tracking . . .http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/4737671.stm
Thursday 26 July 2007
GOREE ISLAND: WE STRUGGLE TO KNOW...
© Molara Wood
I know a little. But many know very little of what i know. There's not only a lot to learn about Nigeria, there are lots to learn about Africa. It's amazing inspite of the AudioVisual Revolution, too many young Africans - I, in my twenties, for instance - know li'l about themselves. Reminds me of Funmi Iyanda's Elephant post - it made me realise i know little about the Civil War, than that it was between 1967 and '70 - Many don't even know. I recall her ask, on New Dawn, about the The Rwandan Genocide from her Wednesday Class - And, more or less, none of them knew.
Here's Goree:Built by the Dutch in 1776.
Read more on http://www.congo-pages.org/senegal/Goree.htm.See more on Molara Wood's blog: the picture's origin.
I know a little. But many know very little of what i know. There's not only a lot to learn about Nigeria, there are lots to learn about Africa. It's amazing inspite of the AudioVisual Revolution, too many young Africans - I, in my twenties, for instance - know li'l about themselves. Reminds me of Funmi Iyanda's Elephant post - it made me realise i know little about the Civil War, than that it was between 1967 and '70 - Many don't even know. I recall her ask, on New Dawn, about the The Rwandan Genocide from her Wednesday Class - And, more or less, none of them knew.
Here's Goree:Built by the Dutch in 1776.
Read more on http://www.congo-pages.org/senegal/Goree.htm.See more on Molara Wood's blog: the picture's origin.
A SEASON OF SOYINKA
born 1934. Son of Ogun. Writer of many books, especially IDANRE - name of my town.
We used his book, in JSS 2 - THE LION AND THE JEWEL - starring Sidi, the village belle and Lakunle, the bookworm, who'd been to the big cities of Ibadan and Lagos and wouldn't or couldn't pay her bride price and the Baale of Ilujinle, the Lion and em em is it Sadiku - Baroka's wife with the vituperative mouth.
The book probably never got interesting until we got to that part of the play that Lakunle had to reel out bombastic words - "this is barbaric, outdated, ..." Everyone of us loved that aspect. I remember i crammed those words o - i liked to use them too - Poor Lakunle.
Much later, on my own i read Jero's Plays and etc. The Jero's Plays is also one heck of an interesting piece of work and then Howu, Elesin Oba! Elesin Oba!What tryst does the cock go to keep that he must forget his tail at home?
Then i read ABIKU - charmed circles at my feet...armulets do not tie me to...(can't recall).
I haven't read MADMEN AND SPECIALIST. I recall waliking into a bookshop some years back and demanding that book. The woman on duty asked - guess - "Se Medical Book ni?"("Is it a Medical Book?")
A Season of Wole Soyinka is currently taking place at Terra Kulture on Tiamiyu Savage in Victoria Island, Lagos, Nigeria. This celebration of Soynka at 73 is produced by laspapi in collaboration with the British Council/Nigeria and Terra Kulture and started on July 1, 2007 and is expected to continue every Sunday till the end of July. All plays will be at Terra Kulture, and there will be two shows every Sunday at 3pm and 6pm. Already staged are - Who's Afraid of Wole Soyinka?- written by Wole Oguntokun (July 1) and - The Lion and the Jewel- directed by Tunji Sotimirin (July 8) - Death and the King's Horseman (July 15)- directed by Segun Adefila - Camwood on the Leaves (July 22)- directed by Lekan Balogun.
The Season ends on July 29 with The Jero Plays (Trials of Brother Jero and Jero's Metamorphosis) directed by Wole Oguntokun and after that is another - THEATRE @ TERRA - Wole Oguntokun's.
EVER HEARD OF ONUZULIKE?
I read his interview in the Guardian (Nigeria). He had these terrific works of art - pottery- that talked the Civil War talk. Poignant. And he wasn't looking at issues through the lens of the Poet-Prof. J.P. Clark.
Ozioma Onuzulike is an artist and writer from Nigeria. He graduated in 1996 with a B.A. (First Class Honors) at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, where he also obtained an M.F.A. in Ceramics.
Onuzulike's a potter who's got strong affinities for poetry - his works speak the dialects of poetry. Here's what he say's:"I find a strong correlation between poetry and the plastic arts. As a cerarnist (potter), I see the clay working processes as a storehouse of concrete imageries for addressing everyday events and social encounters in the larger society. Working in clay and other earth media, I increasingly find a strong relationship between poetry and pottery"
His last exhibition was , i guess, Casualities.
To read his poems - http://afropoets.tripod.com/onuzulike/
He's not been the news since that last exhibition, haven't heard about him, but he's still somewhere in Nsukka, i guess.
I've a poem for him starts like this:
Onuzulike sounds like Ogbunike
They both dwell in Nsukka
In the Navel of Eastern Nigeria...
Ozioma Onuzulike is an artist and writer from Nigeria. He graduated in 1996 with a B.A. (First Class Honors) at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, where he also obtained an M.F.A. in Ceramics.
Onuzulike's a potter who's got strong affinities for poetry - his works speak the dialects of poetry. Here's what he say's:"I find a strong correlation between poetry and the plastic arts. As a cerarnist (potter), I see the clay working processes as a storehouse of concrete imageries for addressing everyday events and social encounters in the larger society. Working in clay and other earth media, I increasingly find a strong relationship between poetry and pottery"
His last exhibition was , i guess, Casualities.
To read his poems - http://afropoets.tripod.com/onuzulike/
He's not been the news since that last exhibition, haven't heard about him, but he's still somewhere in Nsukka, i guess.
I've a poem for him starts like this:
Onuzulike sounds like Ogbunike
They both dwell in Nsukka
In the Navel of Eastern Nigeria...
Friday 20 July 2007
DISTRACTIONS, ATTRACTIONS, THE INDEX OF CHANGE
This semester started with distractions. First, with a strike that swallowed what was meant to be a break. Succeeded by a period which was meant to be for lectures but then lectures aborted before dawn. Lectures were eventually birthed albeit by a caesarian section of Mass Prayer-Assisted FG-ASUU negotiations. It was a period when different hitherto unknown clubs sprung out of no where. A blizzard of Hall Weeks just hit us. Weeks ago was the Amina Hall Week. Now's the Kofo Hall Week. Still to come is the Biobaku Hall Week. Haven't heard of Jaja's, Mariere's. I'm not sure Moremi's had theirs. MTN wuz here, Glo wuz here with their Campus Storm. Irapada wuz here. Prince of the Savannah wuz here. A number of Sex, Dating and Marriage seminars wuz here too. Football Matches between departments - the Dean's Cup (i guess) - should be ongoing. Block to Block matches are being organized. Room to Room and even Bunk to Bunk matches are brewing.
Praise Nites . . . list is endless
The attractions were the TMC IV (starring Harris steve for Fela Durotoye), RISE MAG's motivational conference at Aquatic Hall (Fela Durotoye, Gamaliel Onosode were in attendance), Perisseuo '007.
The oncoming, equally important, ones are the 8th of August JCI-powered confererence on enterpreneurship featuring Funmi Iyanda and Gbenga Sesan who were both a year older sometimes last month nad another on the 18th (featuring Gbenga Sesan (again) and Niyi Adesanya of Fifth Gear).
The Library's been, amidst all these, appreciably populated. Results - first semester's - are popping out one after the other - a couple of those it didn't favour too well are beginning to library.
There was nothing unusual about the week. It was the usual sight of yahoozees: females and males in their teeming numbers. The usual sight of sugar dads and their aristo Daughters, kissing and having sex - on car bonnets, under the flower bed, in the dark alleys and shady reading rooms - yeah, it’s that bad in UNILAG.
Caught a cold – catarrh, which lead to headache and I had to buy Procold® which I haven’t used still. The high point of the week probably was the mail sent me from WORDRIOT saying they’d publish a couple of my works – poetry – in a future issue and that I write well and in an interesting fashion – My! That was a fillip – at least that forces a sense of worth into one, now I know my works are a li’l good enough – still hoping to get more positive responses from a couple of other publishers.
I recall reading the headliners – haven't read a newspaper through and through for so long a time now – school’s got a way of keeping you insulated from the real world – it fuzzes your head what with you in the midst of poly-painted gals and fancifully dressed yahoozees driving sleek rides – everybody walkin’ and talkin’ like they doesn’t shit. Yeah, the headliners had it that a number of former Nigerian governors arraigned for fraud had been granted bail. I recall one of them even had as little as a hundred and seven count (107) charge and one of them was even bold enough to weep in court – lamenting a change in his status – in the presence of his family – wife, children and all. Did someone not ask when will Africa be free from being caused with it’s leaders…and youth.
Yeah, youth.
In Liberia, it’s a poisoned group of young’uns that know only guns and knives and haven’t had education for more than a decade.
Almost same in Togo.
Sudan’s unpeaceful.
Nigeria relatively is, but isn’t. It’s got an army of unemployed and unschooled.
The schooled ain’t ready to work.
If you, today, walk into a cyber café that’s got 20 systems, you’ll find 18 yahoozees. If in the next 2 months you walk into that same cyber café with 20 systems still and you find just 10 of ‘em. Then, things have begun to change in Naija. That’ s my own index of change.
The Nigerian Renaissance must begin in every sole Nigerian mind, not just a crop of 'em.
Praise Nites . . . list is endless
The attractions were the TMC IV (starring Harris steve for Fela Durotoye), RISE MAG's motivational conference at Aquatic Hall (Fela Durotoye, Gamaliel Onosode were in attendance), Perisseuo '007.
The oncoming, equally important, ones are the 8th of August JCI-powered confererence on enterpreneurship featuring Funmi Iyanda and Gbenga Sesan who were both a year older sometimes last month nad another on the 18th (featuring Gbenga Sesan (again) and Niyi Adesanya of Fifth Gear).
The Library's been, amidst all these, appreciably populated. Results - first semester's - are popping out one after the other - a couple of those it didn't favour too well are beginning to library.
There was nothing unusual about the week. It was the usual sight of yahoozees: females and males in their teeming numbers. The usual sight of sugar dads and their aristo Daughters, kissing and having sex - on car bonnets, under the flower bed, in the dark alleys and shady reading rooms - yeah, it’s that bad in UNILAG.
Caught a cold – catarrh, which lead to headache and I had to buy Procold® which I haven’t used still. The high point of the week probably was the mail sent me from WORDRIOT saying they’d publish a couple of my works – poetry – in a future issue and that I write well and in an interesting fashion – My! That was a fillip – at least that forces a sense of worth into one, now I know my works are a li’l good enough – still hoping to get more positive responses from a couple of other publishers.
I recall reading the headliners – haven't read a newspaper through and through for so long a time now – school’s got a way of keeping you insulated from the real world – it fuzzes your head what with you in the midst of poly-painted gals and fancifully dressed yahoozees driving sleek rides – everybody walkin’ and talkin’ like they doesn’t shit. Yeah, the headliners had it that a number of former Nigerian governors arraigned for fraud had been granted bail. I recall one of them even had as little as a hundred and seven count (107) charge and one of them was even bold enough to weep in court – lamenting a change in his status – in the presence of his family – wife, children and all. Did someone not ask when will Africa be free from being caused with it’s leaders…and youth.
Yeah, youth.
In Liberia, it’s a poisoned group of young’uns that know only guns and knives and haven’t had education for more than a decade.
Almost same in Togo.
Sudan’s unpeaceful.
Nigeria relatively is, but isn’t. It’s got an army of unemployed and unschooled.
The schooled ain’t ready to work.
If you, today, walk into a cyber café that’s got 20 systems, you’ll find 18 yahoozees. If in the next 2 months you walk into that same cyber café with 20 systems still and you find just 10 of ‘em. Then, things have begun to change in Naija. That’ s my own index of change.
The Nigerian Renaissance must begin in every sole Nigerian mind, not just a crop of 'em.
Wednesday 4 July 2007
AWAITING OKIJA ARTS
These Benin Plaque of a General is found on the TedHamill Gallery website. For sale. Some time ago a startling revelation was made in Anambra state. A dastardly work of evil, a shrine was unveiled somewhere in the state. The Okija Shrine was said to be delicate. That's because many big'uns patronize it. The shrine was a Shrine of Equity, i.e., Two fellas engaged in a deal could go there, swear to the gods and goddesses in Okija to keep the bonds of their agreement intact. If there was a breach by any of the parties, that culprit dies, or is retributed in some other form. The shrine was so 'strong' the National TV couldn't show its interiors but could just the entrance. And at the entrance were those skulls that reminded one of the Rwandan Genocide - big skulls, small skulls, white and sand papered, rough and brown, etc. Okija since then has eluded the news. Could be another very crucial issue already swept under the rug. The most painful side of the story may be the fact that terrific works of art might still be holed up somewhere in the shrine, allegedly possibly as big as a big village, if not even bigger. And who knows if those works might even surpass the beauty of Ancient Benin and Ife arts. Works that would blast us into the news again. And this time wouldn't be stolen in some 'Great British or American or Portuguese Expedition. '
Tuesday 3 July 2007
NOW THE ASUU'S STRIKE'S OVER
I've been at school at the University of Lagos for 4wks+. We were called back with the assurance that lectures would commence with immediate effect from the 28th of June. Lectures were not given. Effect is that the big bucks guys brought to school ebbed away gradually: wasted on clubs, women, alcoholic drinks, cigar, i.e., for the big boys. For the smalla'uns, t'was wasted on food, the large stock of food some brought declined drastically'cos they had to feed thrice daily- under normal lecture circumstances that wouldn't happen- the lecture periods had a way of cutting hunger out of the system. And a deadly survival instinct taught boys and, of course, those multi-painted UNILAG girls how to prey on ceremonies held at the MultiPurpose Hall and Sports Complex respectively. The Time Table is strictly laid out:
THURSDAY: Birthday
FRIDAY: Burial Ceremony
SATURDAY: Wedding
SUNDAY: Thanks Giving
If anybody dons a traditional dress between Thursday and Sunday you can almost be sure they're heading for the MPH or Sports Complex to eat and drink. Such was the effect of the ASUU strike. Unfortunately this survival habit is acutely addictive and is persisting even after the strike's been called off just like the higher prices of goods are even after the 100% increase in VAT has been cut by half.
The broken-hearted weeping clouds have also sown idleness in the sons and daughters of men in this school. The cold showers make them sleep like logs. And some don't arise from bed until 10.00AM even 12.00PM. Next on the Agenda is a tiring game of monkeypost-football on a sand pitch from then till six.
Lorenzo's place is also almost never vacant. What do they do there? play PS till 2.00AM. What again o...Okay one guy also tried smuggling two gals in. I have it on the authority of good evidence that the bulk of the many students who decided not to go home during the ASUU Strike/Break stayed back because of these unGodly business...
Idleness was given a free-rein and it did reign.
Now the strike's o'er, me Dad gladly called me from AK that it was over. Today's Wednesday and LECTURES HAVE STARTED, we had one today: BTN. I'm glad. And i really had to buy a 5-Packed note in readiness for that.
THURSDAY: Birthday
FRIDAY: Burial Ceremony
SATURDAY: Wedding
SUNDAY: Thanks Giving
If anybody dons a traditional dress between Thursday and Sunday you can almost be sure they're heading for the MPH or Sports Complex to eat and drink. Such was the effect of the ASUU strike. Unfortunately this survival habit is acutely addictive and is persisting even after the strike's been called off just like the higher prices of goods are even after the 100% increase in VAT has been cut by half.
The broken-hearted weeping clouds have also sown idleness in the sons and daughters of men in this school. The cold showers make them sleep like logs. And some don't arise from bed until 10.00AM even 12.00PM. Next on the Agenda is a tiring game of monkeypost-football on a sand pitch from then till six.
Lorenzo's place is also almost never vacant. What do they do there? play PS till 2.00AM. What again o...Okay one guy also tried smuggling two gals in. I have it on the authority of good evidence that the bulk of the many students who decided not to go home during the ASUU Strike/Break stayed back because of these unGodly business...
Idleness was given a free-rein and it did reign.
Now the strike's o'er, me Dad gladly called me from AK that it was over. Today's Wednesday and LECTURES HAVE STARTED, we had one today: BTN. I'm glad. And i really had to buy a 5-Packed note in readiness for that.
THESE PICTURES
Excerpts from Tolu Ogunlesi's blog:omoalagbede.blogspot.com and Funmi Iyanda's fiyanda.blogspot.com. The first one's titled globalization, set in desert. It's a black woman, characteristically dressed in masai red, supporting with her right hand what i'll call a mushroom burger, and look at that giant can of Coke - the icon of globalization, i guess. The second, coincidntally, is also an offshoot of globalization and Funmi added this teaser: IS THIS THE MEASURE OF THE NIGERIAN MAN? Really, i hope it isn't.And the billboard reminds me of ads, modern-day, at least. Ads that do not encourage values. The Vono foam radio jingle, for instance, subtly makes allusions to its product being good for sex - whatever the press ups were supposed to mean?.
THE BLOGGABILITY RULE
I stumbled on alantakun.blogspot.com and this sole comment on one of his post has made me curious-The Bloggability Rule: The higher your fiction quotient, the less your bloggability, the less the blog. And vice versa.
How true's this rule?
How true's this rule?
CONTAINERS?
I wasn't at the Aquatic Hall, somewhere, i guess, in Ipaja, for a motivational 'congress' organized by RISE Magazine. Was a little cash-strapped. As guest speakers were Funmi Iyanda, Dr Reuben Abati, Funke Egbemode, Fela Durotoye. And as Chief Guest Speaker was Chief Gamaliel Onosode. the sexpurist-centrist Praise-Fowowe was also in attendance. Now i wasn't there but got a copy of the RISE Mag from Hassan, a hostel mate, who was at the meeting. I recall catching a glimpse of this line in Praise's Article, of course,it bordered on sex: ...Ladies are considered containers, in these modern times, where semen from a loaded male was meant to be downloaded (Mind you the quote ain't verbatim). I didn't disagree. Wasn't baulked. Not until Wednesday when a boy tried smuggling two gals into the hostel. Ostensibly for sex. He tried twice. Once in the afternoon, he got them into his room and locked up until security men had to force him out. Then in the night. I mean. . .Praise's line bursted forht in my mind. . .but his line was an understatement. . .they could be worse than containers. . .
Tuesday 19 June 2007
FROM THE COSMOS: A REJOINDER
After reading Tolu’s Cosmic Justice.
I am fire that’s cold and scorches,
I lurk in the open, dance in the open.
Let the cane rat burrow deep into the soil
I strike deeper, deep into the
dark abyss of Okun.
I ignore not the shallows, I shovel into
mansions in the alluvial
and make them into morgues.
Let the squirrel climb further up the Iroko.
Let the eagle soar towards the summit of Kilimanjaro.
Let man plane into the sky.
I strike beyond the headquarters of the sky god.
I visit prince,
I visit pauper
And I take them both on a visit
through ant holes to my hallowed abode.
I am that blind stare in the sharp pincers of a decapitated
crab.
I am the wine that kills the head of the Sallah ram; and charges
him against the Alhaji.
I am that red in the eye of the bull. I charge matadors to a
last-in-a-lifetime duel.
I am that disinfectant that tickles a demented cockroach.
I separate the babalawo from his cowries
And blinden the Seer with my sneer.
Yes, I’m that sneer in the potholes on your roads.
I’m here and there.
I sit on hills in Afghanistan and rest my back in America;
I beat my bongos in Bakassi and strum my bass guitar in Baghdad,
in mystic symphony.
I am older than the Tower of Pisa; gravity is as old as me.
I was the quiver in Pharaoh’s beard.
I could swap the Statue of Liberty’s torch with a Kalashnikov.
I can put a tinge in the eye of a Saddam Effigy.
I am the D in Nunc Dimittis
Hey,
Does that sound … Poetic?
Haha,
I could be a Poet,
I could be a Muse,
Or make muses.
I can make music,
I can make a bunch of broom out of you.
I can induce piety.
I raise my foot and the earth quakes;
Hurricanes and whirlwinds are my sneezes.
My yawns cause planes to plummet into the navel
of the earth;
And cause you to pray,
To gather up the husks of your unity.
Lest I forget,
You die and I die;
You die, I don't die.
I am Iku,
The Iku in Abiku,
Who never dies,
Who is indifferent to decency.
I take the, if you like, lavatorist.
Unconcerned if the putty is halfway or two-third out.
I imprison the prisoner,
Judge the Judge . . . What else? . . . Hmm
Always anticipate
Anticipate me.
I am fire that’s cold and scorches,
I lurk in the open, dance in the open.
Let the cane rat burrow deep into the soil
I strike deeper, deep into the
dark abyss of Okun.
I ignore not the shallows, I shovel into
mansions in the alluvial
and make them into morgues.
Let the squirrel climb further up the Iroko.
Let the eagle soar towards the summit of Kilimanjaro.
Let man plane into the sky.
I strike beyond the headquarters of the sky god.
I visit prince,
I visit pauper
And I take them both on a visit
through ant holes to my hallowed abode.
I am that blind stare in the sharp pincers of a decapitated
crab.
I am the wine that kills the head of the Sallah ram; and charges
him against the Alhaji.
I am that red in the eye of the bull. I charge matadors to a
last-in-a-lifetime duel.
I am that disinfectant that tickles a demented cockroach.
I separate the babalawo from his cowries
And blinden the Seer with my sneer.
Yes, I’m that sneer in the potholes on your roads.
I’m here and there.
I sit on hills in Afghanistan and rest my back in America;
I beat my bongos in Bakassi and strum my bass guitar in Baghdad,
in mystic symphony.
I am older than the Tower of Pisa; gravity is as old as me.
I was the quiver in Pharaoh’s beard.
I could swap the Statue of Liberty’s torch with a Kalashnikov.
I can put a tinge in the eye of a Saddam Effigy.
I am the D in Nunc Dimittis
Hey,
Does that sound … Poetic?
Haha,
I could be a Poet,
I could be a Muse,
Or make muses.
I can make music,
I can make a bunch of broom out of you.
I can induce piety.
I raise my foot and the earth quakes;
Hurricanes and whirlwinds are my sneezes.
My yawns cause planes to plummet into the navel
of the earth;
And cause you to pray,
To gather up the husks of your unity.
Lest I forget,
You die and I die;
You die, I don't die.
I am Iku,
The Iku in Abiku,
Who never dies,
Who is indifferent to decency.
I take the, if you like, lavatorist.
Unconcerned if the putty is halfway or two-third out.
I imprison the prisoner,
Judge the Judge . . . What else? . . . Hmm
Always anticipate
Anticipate me.
BEAST OF HOW MANY NATIONS?
The Online Encyclopedia, Wikipedia says our own Uzodinma Iweala, son of former Nigerian Finance Minister, Ngozi Okonjo Iweala, hails from Washington,DC and Nigeria. Bah, this author of Beast of No Nation is a FULL BLOODED NIGERIAN o. Make una no claim the guy.
Born in November 1982, and studied at Harvard. His debut novel is a formation of his thesis work at Harvard.
we stumbled into him on Funmi Iyanda's New Dawn and he says he's going back to school to read MEDICINE.Ol' boy take it easy. Lest, i forget, UNILAG is the place to study Medicine. It's my school. He can come. No, wait, i'm being frank. No jokes.
Monday 18 June 2007
EVEN AMERICANS...
25% of HIV-Infected Americans Don't Know They Have It
More than a million Americans are believed to be living with the virus that causes AIDS, the government said Monday in a report that reflects both victory and failure at combating the disease. While better medicines are keeping more people with HIV alive, government health officials have failed to "break the back" of the AIDS epidemic by their stated goal of 2005. This is believed to be the first time the 1 million mark has been passed since the height of the epidemic in the 1980s.
Even Americans, with the army of news sources open to them, are ignorant or scared of the FACT of HIV/AIDS.
More than a million Americans are believed to be living with the virus that causes AIDS, the government said Monday in a report that reflects both victory and failure at combating the disease. While better medicines are keeping more people with HIV alive, government health officials have failed to "break the back" of the AIDS epidemic by their stated goal of 2005. This is believed to be the first time the 1 million mark has been passed since the height of the epidemic in the 1980s.
Even Americans, with the army of news sources open to them, are ignorant or scared of the FACT of HIV/AIDS.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO THE FATHER OF AFRICAN LITERATURE
Congratulations to Prof. Chinua Achebe.
Chinua Achebe, is a Nigerian novelist and poet born Nov. 16, 1930. One of the most widely read authors of the 20th century.A diplomat in the ill-fated Biafran government of 1967-1970, Achebe is primarily interested in African politics, the depiction of Africa and Africans in the West, and the intricacies of pre-colonial African culture and civilization, as well as the effects of colonialization on African societies.
Achebe's 1958 novel Things Fall Apart considers the effects of colonialization on Igbo society, and has been translated into over 50 languages. He was once recalled by Nelson Mandela as a writer "in whose company the prison walls fell down."
In June 2007, Achebe was announced as the winner of the Man Booker International Prize in honour of his literary career
Well known for his classic critical text on Joseph Conrad, Achebe's 2001 Home and Exile reiterated his long-standing belief that Africa and Africans were being unfairly marginalized and dismissed by European and Western-oriented intellectuals.
He's still so good enough for the Nobel. there ain't no harm baggging them both - the MBI and the Nobel.
Ol' boy, but that book no dey loose 'im flavor sef - since 1958.
HAppy PAPA'S DAY!
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