OKPA-DI-OKU

Saturday mornings in omagba were always characterized with incessant ringing of bells by little children who beckon other sleeping children for their morning mass. They ring the bell rhythmically so it could blend into everyone’s name. They stumped their foots to the beat of the bell and clapped amidst careless cum vibrant chants. This group of miniature fanatics never passed our yard without hollering the names of the catholic children who lived in our compound. They go- ‘chibueze! Bianu morni mass, okenna! bianu morni mass, afoma! bianu morni mass, uche! bianu morni mass. –chibueze! Come for morning mass, Okenna ! Come for morning mass, Afoma! Come for morning mass, Uche! Come for morning mass”. As they pass other yards, they called the names of the kids who lived there. I always wondered how they knew the names of every catholic child around. It remained a mystery.

.

As non-Catholics,

MEN ARE OVERGROWN BABIES

         MEN ARE OVERGROWN BABIES

I am a man, I have few strands of hairs under my jaw, I have a baritone voice, I have few whiskers above my upper lip. Again, I stand up to urinate. Finally, I have erections every morning when I wake up.

The reason for this unconventional and outlandish style of starting an essay is to state the obvious. I AM A MAN. I am sure that my being a man will be questioned by male chauvinists and gender bigots. 

Factually, I do not in any way applaud the concept of feminism. My reason?  ‘It is a guarded secret’. All I know is that the stuff doesn’t go down well with me. It just unsettles me.

I stand in awe of great women. Their strength and panache is just out of this world-it is top-notch. Their brilliance is unparalleled. When I see them, the yearning for greatness in me bows and greets the already made greatness in them. When I stand in the threshold of their awesomeness, I never in anyway become gender conscious. Success isn’t homogenized to one gender alone. Gender prejudice is dire blasphemy to me. I am just an advocator of a level playing ground for the both genders.

When I say that men are oversized babies, I do not mean that men are infants, I do not mean that we are still suckling’s. (At least not in the real sense of being a suckling).  I mean that we are big babies who are basking in the euphoria of patriarchy.

In my early readings as a child, I remember lucidly an assertion that meant nothing to me then. It says “the higher your need, the lesser your control”.

The needs of men are countless. To mention a few; good food, good sex, good care. Etc . 

Looking at these needs,

MY PROBLEM WITH ORGANIZED SCHOOLING

 

“Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned in school,”
– Albert Einstein

I have nothing against the acquisition of knowledge as I am a greedy consumer of knowledge. But on the contrary, I do have a serious problem with organized schooling with stipulated curriculum that is hell-bent on judging diverse and multiplicity of talents with pen to paper examination (or most recently computer based test).

Assuming the society hadn’t earlier stigmatized the un-identification of an individual with a school, the best form of gaining knowledge and self development to me is the informal form of education. This form of education has nothing to do with the stereotyping and homogenizing of knowledge. This form of education has its arms wide spread to embrace any knowledge that comes its way.

I see the general concept of formal education which is solely built on the foundation of the ritual of judging legion of students with one means which is the celebrated examination as an insult to ones intelligence. I am totally grieved with the entire ideology of examinations. My reason for frowning

Rant of Life.

I don't want to talk about this but I feel
it's necessary.
*wipes tear*
I can't remember exactly when but It's this
month. I was coming back to my base from
enugu. Few minutes after we (my bus) moved, I
could see a legion of people clustered around a
particular place.
Within some minutes, there was hold up. A very
serious one at that.
I looked over to that spot where people where
sardined (clustered ). Most people I saw had their
jaws sagging, others buried their nose and mouth
in their palms leaving their eyes to send a
message of shock and pity . The similarities that
was shared between everyone there was the
portrayal of pain, pity and tears.
We were in a serious hold up so I had the
opportunity to know what was happening.
When I got there,....
Phew!!
...I saw what I pray never to see again. The belts
of my jaw loosened to let my jaw sag
comfortably, my eyes were soaked with tears, I
didn't know what to do again whether to go to
the bus or faint from what Was before me.
*shakes head*
I saw a car (sienna ) that was hit beyond
recognition, all the air bags escaped from all
parts of their hiding place.
I still wanted to see everything that had happened
there.
Now, I saw a young man with his hand still
cleaving to the steering wheel, his seat belt still
holding him to the sit, his head was open, his
legs where in shambles! (I believe he was a
driver )
Looking behind, I saw a husband and wife.
Kaii!
The man didn't have much injury I think. But as
for dead? he was dead!
His wife was the main person that was hit.
The only way I knew she was a woman was her
skirt. The only thing remaining in her head was
her lower lip and lower dentition.
Damn!
She was facing front but her waist had turned
fully (opposite of what it should be).
I saw the human brain for the first time since I
was born.
Her brain was sitting on the back of her husband,
other things that makes up my head and your
head was scattered around that vehicle like butter
spread on bread!
I will be sincere; some tears dropped, I was
pained.
I thought about their children at home or school.
How Will they understand this film? How Will they
bear such loss?
*************************
The reason why I remembered this story today is
this;
Please treat people like you're seeing them for the
last time, do what is good to them. Don't open
your mouth and say "had I known I would have
helped " Help them when they are alive.
When I became a son of a single parent, the main
thing that made me cry more was that I didn't
treat my paapi too well. We had couple of fall
outs (courtesy of me).
I wished he could come out so I would beg him
and hug him again. But It wasn't possible!
*Tear*
Are you trying to tell me that assuming a child of
that couple that died in that accident had a
misunderstanding with his parents that he would
forgive himself?
No! Never!
Please treat people well.
Please!
Please!
Mr Banks.

Dear diary

Dear diary, I do not like what is happening in this school, every where I go, all the boys will be looking at me. Why did father and mother bring me to this school? Does it mean that all of these boys know me from somewhere? 
The other day, I wore a simple skirt o and they were still looking like the chapter after mark (luke). When I was passing where they were, I hear them drool like uncle jeffs dogs! My class prefect told me during the recess that I shouldn't mind those boys but I should mind him! But diary you know I can't mind him nau! His head is like my bicycle sit that is at home, his eyes are too big I don't know if he is a general overSEER! 
This morning in class balogun said anytime he sees me it reminds him of the figure "8". But I do not believe him because mother told me that any boy that is talking about my body is a son of Satan and I don't like Satan! 
Mother also told me that all these boys that like me will go to hell fire and burn!! They will resemble mallam shehu's suya! I wonder how class prefect and his big head will be when he looks like suya! Anyway it's not my bussines! 

Diary I am coming lemme go and eat before hunger strangles me!

Diary series with Mr banks!

HATE

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that, Martin luther king jnr,

The word hate is the end point of the excercise of envy. The seed of hate is initialy planted as jelousy and when watered with the water of enmity it metarmorphoses into a big tree of hate. Things that trigger hate are often trivialities. The tree of hate has a very stong tap root of grudge that holds the tree firmly to the ground; the tree has tleaves of fury, branches of overwhelming wickedness!

Intrestingly, hate has crippled more than it has made to walk, hate has blinded more than it has given sight, hate has killed more than it has given life. Overtime,there has always been a very thing line between love and hate. It doesn’t take anything to slip off the line of hate and fall on love!

Finaly,hate isnt a good spice that should be added into the pot of happy living. The hate spice will simply spoil the awesome soup of good living! Live a hate free life today!

Hate isnt life!

Hate is crap!

Hate is a sin!

I WISH

Dear diary, you know I haven't seen adaora for years now! This morning, I was walking down the road heading to the bank , my ears heard a voice that it hasn't heard for some years now,
"oh my god is that adaoras scintillating voice I asked myself"
I turned swiftly with immediate alacrity, behold I saw adaora across the road looking gorgeous. Her face radiated beauty, her penetrative eyes scattered the gates of my heart, her skin looking polished, I could percieve h...er mouth watering scent from the other side of the main road, her hair was silky and dark! She was waving gently with her right hand, my crave was to see her left hand to know if there is a round steel in her ring finger.

I beckoned her to come over to the other side of the road while I was answering a call, out of excitement, adaora ran into a vehicle and the worst happened. I saw the definition of beauty lying lifeless on the coal tar, her dark hair painted with her crimson red blood, I could see her tendons, her eyes popped out of the eye socket, her right hand was on the other side of the road, she was in a sorry situation!

I was gone! The bones in my body couldn't carry me again, I was shivering, goosebumps clothed me, I bellowed "adaora adaora!! My adorable adaora don't go like this" my voice was mixed with the beat of sorrow, I wished I didn't tell her to cross over,i wish I didn't see her, I wished it was a dream, I wished I didn't wake up that day to go to the bank! I WISH I GET OVER THIS TRAUMA SOONEST!

I wish you see it as a fiction!!