THREATS FROM ALL ANGLES...

-Last week, Britons in part of Yorkshire and Sheffield woke up to find themselves afloat--after a torrential down-pour-which killed five people including a 68yr old county Judge.

Insurers estimate the cost of this week's flooding to run into hundreds of millions of pounds. But the overall cost to the British economy could eventually reach several billions.

Apart from the damage caused by the rising water to private homes and properties, businesses have suffered huge interruption costs. Tens of thousands of people were displaced and couldn't get to work. The closure of several junctions on the M1 alone would have cost millions. Rail and other transport links were also affected.

Yet,the weather forecasters say the heavy rain and flooding are not done.
People should brace themselves for the worse--this weekend especially.








-Londoners were on edge Friday after two explosives-packed cars were found in the city's theater district just a week before the second anniversary of a bombing onslaught that killed 52 commuters...

An old man from Jamaica dare to suggest that the gods are angry with these people.
I say these are trying period...

...Are Orators Born...?

You can almost always recognise the power associated with a leader through his voice and speech...
In this regard, American Presidents come top of the list of leaders who can convince their citizens to drink the ' herbaceous hemlock'--and they (citizens) will do so before asking questions...

As a young lad, I loved the late president of America--Ronald Reagan so much--not necessarily because of the substance of his speeches, but because of the gusto and confidence that radiates from and around him whenever he mounts the podium...
Hear him:

" ...Government is the people's business and every man, woman and child becomes a shareholder with the first penny of tax paid. ...we who live in free market societies believe that growth, prosperity and ultimately human fulfillment, are created from the bottom up, not the government down. Only when the human spirit is allowed to invent and create, only when individuals are given a personal stake in deciding economic policies and benefitting from their success -- only then can societies remain economically alive, dynamic, progressive, and free..."


Wheras, Mr Tony Blair could be labelled as one of the most charismatic British Prime Minister to lead the country for a decade, most of us have come to love him not for going to Iraq, but for his charm and ability to make you listen whenever he speaks...

Tony Blair in 1997:

"...As I stand here before 10 Downing Street I know all too well the huge responsibility that is upon me and the great trust that the British people have placed in me...this administration shall be a government rooted in strong values, the values of justice and progress and community, the values that have guided me all my political life...this government is ready with the courage to embrace the new ideas necessary to make those values live again for today's world -- a government of practical measures in pursuit of noble causes. That is our objective for the people of Britain..."


Only two African leaders in recent times have come close enough to the mark of been labelled as good orators--

Nelson Mandela (again) and Jerry Rawlings of Ghana.

Some may want to argue that Babangida of Nigeria was also a very good orator or speech reader...

But this a man I dislike so much for his sly and conning nature. And I hated him more when he was branded as 'maradona'...

General Olusegun Obasanjo--the immediate past president of Nigeria would fall into the worse categories of speech makers. Oratory, Obasanjo has a way of irritating, annoyingly his listeners by trying to clear his 'kola-nut' infested throat seventy- nine times in a single speech--terrible!
And he never raises his from the paper whenever he reads...


So, what do Nigerians make of their new President-- Yar'Dua ? (is that how to spell the name...I'm not being funny)...

I read somewhere that Mr. Yar'Dua was asked about his immediate priorities. And all he could come up with was..

"...'My first priority is the economy, my second priority is the economy and my third priority is the economy..."

What, in hells name does that mean...? Can't he come up with something more qoutable and a little bit more educated than that...?

How did Nigerians get themselves saddled with a taciturn, below-average fellow --who is also economical in ideas, speech and style...?

And where are all the speech messiahs and publicists like Fani-kayode, Wada Nas, even Kingibe.
Somebody should please sit president Yar'Adua (my younger sister just gave the correct spelling) down and polish him a little bit...

He is the president of the nation for crying out loud--even thou he was not generally elected, he has the mandate now...
He should convince the people that he knows what to do and he is ready to do it through his speech, character and style...or is this not his will?

Now that the Elections are Over, Let Us Celebrate...

I think Nigeria and Zimbabwe and Togo and Cameroun and Liberia(maybe the whole of Africa) are the only countries in the world where the electorates are disatisfied with the dividend of democracy, yet, they keep voting for the same polical leaders..
.
The elections in Nigeria have come and gone. The peoples' Democratic Party (PDP) have swept the polls--winning majority of the legislative seats--(states and national) and the apex position--presidency or haven't they?

Now, let Nigerians roll out the drums and celebrate. Let the ruling-class and the elected politicians pat themselves on the back for a successful conduct of a semblance of an election...

President General Olusegun Obasanjo must be very proud of 'Ewu' Maurice--the INEC(Independent National Electoral Commission) chairman. Maurice must score very high in Obasanjo's rating. Why not?

It is only a genius of Ewu Maurice calibre who can hoodwick the people--local and international with INEC's electoral abracadabra -the more you look, the less you see.

The unfortunate history of democracy in Nigeria would not be complete without mentioning the contributions of Gen. Olusegun Obasanjo and the Peoples' Democratic Part--PDP. A party of greedy, selfish, shameless and corrupt men and women.

Now that the spurious elections are over, and PDP have swept the polls, let the obese, funny looking figures with starched brocades mount their jeep cars and ride in roads filled with potholes to their numerous palatial mansions in the villages...while the children of the down trodden stare bewildered, thumb in their mouths--with shining kwashiorkor bellies thrust forward and thread bare underwears with gaping holes--line the streets. Nigeria's tourist attraction!

Now that the elections are over, let the 'haves'--with stupendous material wealth change their generating plants and the noise that emanate from these machines continue to deafen the downtroddens. Let the 'have-nots' continue to inhale the air saturated fumes...

Let Nigerians congratulate their elected representatives. The very men and women who came humbly to their door-steps--promising to make the sun shine twenty four hours a day and rebuild their demolished stores. Saying that policemen will no longer harrass their souls with--'wetin you carry' and 'park' as they return from their hinderland markets--with tired bodies and arthritis joints...

Nigerians can now sleep with both eyes closed--without the fear of marauders at night and broad daylight.

Now that the elections have been won and lost, the scoundrels who were used as body-guards by PDP politicians can now return to their villainy--harrassing innocent and law abiding citizens...

Now that the elections are over, let Nigerians celebrate the decay and rot of their society; while the elected officials pillage the treasury--its pay back time for the godfathers who financed the 'area boys' who were used to disrupt normal voting process...

Bring out the champagnes and choice wines. Let us drink to the dividend of democracy in Nigeria.

...And I would like to propose a toast...

...to the success of PDP, the largest fraudulent political party in Africa; to Maurice Ewu--for being the most unbias umpire in this political abracadabra; I'm not done yet, I would also like us to toast to the fact that--the electoral tribunal is there for all aggrieved parties...

Finally, I would like to say this--the international community and its bias observers can go to hell--Nigeria is a Republic.

Hip...hip ...hip...hurrah!...Hip...hip...hip...hurrah!

Has Nigeria As a Nation Failed...?

What is the definition of a failed state? Is Nigeria a failed state?
This is a question put forward by Imnakoya...grandioseparlor as it relates to another post by African Shirt...

I'm going to rephrase this question thus: Has Nigeria as a nation, failed? I am positive that, if you put this question before millions of Nigerians(aside from the ruling class and an isolated few) the answer would be...YES!

What would any 'reasonable' citizen regard as failure in respect of governance?
Failure as it relates to the governance of a state would mean any of the following:

1.The condition or fact of not achieving the desired end or ends...
2.The condition or fact of being insufficient or falling short...
3.A cessation of proper functioning or performance...
4.Nonperformance of what is requested or expected...

Now, if you look at the above definitions of failure properly, most people would agree that no.3...(i.e, a cessation of proper functioning or performance) and no.4.(.i.e, nonperformance of what is requested or expected) best describe the present and past state of Nigeria as a Nation.

Is Nigeria a failed state? YES!

What are the basic things that the citizens expect from the ruling class?

a)...Security: Security of lives and property. Would anyone assert that Nigerians are secured?

b)...Employment: As resourceful as the citizens are, the unemployment rate is very very high. Apart from the privileged few who are lucky to be employed, majority of the masses are barely existing... Check this out ....and this too...


c)...Free and Fair Elections: Does anyone want me to say anything here?

That is the succinct report sheet of Nigeria. Brief as it is, the sheet encapsulate the utter failure of this state...

Scratch your head, twist and turn as you wish...these facts on ground can not be wished away by high sounding words or logic.

Where Do We Go from Here...?

Honestly, I love politics. However, the way this game is played in Nigeria, one's interest begin to wane not gradually but steadily with horrifying speed.

Last Saturday evening, after the elections, I called a friend in the volatile Niger-Delta region...
He gave me a blow- to- blow account of what happened and how the military with armoured tanks were used to disenfranchise thousands of would -be voters...

Since then, every page you flip, every article on the pages of Nigerian newspapers speak of gross irregularities and dissatisfaction by many...
So much so that a coalition of the opposition has called for an outright cancellation of the gubernatorial and state assembly elections held on the 14 of April...

The coalition group has also decided to boycott the scheduled presidential elections next Saturday...

Meanwhile, the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), the body saddled with conduct and organisation of the elections, yesterday, asked those not satisfied with the results of last Saturday’s elections to seek redress at the election tribunals, affirming it would not be moved by reports of irregularities to cancel the elections.

Then, you begin to wonder, whose interest INEC represents...?

Renúncia

I have just noticed that someone under the guise of anonymity is pasting some kind of nonsense on the comment section of my blog...
I appreciate comments from 'friends' and relatives who would want to remain anonymous...but 'copying and pasting' irrelevant materials as comments--I don't find funny at all.

I don't know who you are, but I am using this as an appeal , please, STOP IT!

...Who is the Head of the Home...?

I haven't seen Tejiri--my nephew in six weeks. He is eleven. And they are on holiday. So, when I stopped -by this afternoon, he was ecstatic. He almost knocked me over.
I'm the superman--who can do anything, answer any and all questions in the eyes of this young lad. Before I could ask...where is your daddy, he shot me with a barrage of questions.


TJ: uncle , who is the head of the home...?

ME: ...which home,,? Daddy is the head of course...

TJ:...no...no.. I mean who is the head of a home in a family...?

ME: [without weighing the question]...I said the ' father' is the head of any home'

TJ: [with a clenched fist thrust into the air]...yes, yes, I said it...my teacher was wrong...

ME: [absolutely scared of the import of this idea...that his teacher is wrong,]...junior, your teacher cannot be wrong..why do you say your teacher is wrong?

TJ: [looked very excited]...uncle, we were having 'Citizenship'...and { Ms Louisa} my teacher asked the question...'who is the head of the home?'
...and I said the 'father' is the head of the home...she said I was wrong. And we argued. And everyone was blaming me for arguing with the teacher...

*Phew!

*I have to tread carefully here. otherwise, I 'll be 'miseducating' this young lad...teachers are not, under any circumstance suppose to be wrong. If teachers are made to appear wrong, the student(s) suffers...

ME: ...junior, who did your teacher say is the head of the home...?

TJ: ...she said both parents are the head of the home. They are equal she said...

ME: [let me try and confuse this small boy with some grammar..hmm ..hmmm..I cleared my throat..]...you see junior, your teacher was right. In a home,em, both parents(mother and father )...have what is known as complementary equality. It means they both help each other mutually...they put heads together in the decision making..they both weigh everything together...you understand?


*Junior with arms folded across his chest was looking passively--disinterested in my explanation. I guess....

TJ:...uncle, but the Bible says that the 'man' is the head of the home. And that women should be submissive to their husbands. Are you saying the Bible is wrong?

ME:...(Chineke!)...you know what junior, let me see your dad...we'll continue this discussion immediately I finish with your dad ..ok?

TJ: [..nodding his head...]...ok!

* That was how I temporarily escaped from the young inquisitive mind...Anyway, they are on holiday right now, I intend to make my research and go back to 'floor' him in this debate. The teacher must/cannot be wrong!

Virgin(al) Media Lapses...!

For awhile now, I've been in a spiral battle with the above broadcasting media...and I forsee the outcome--court! Please don't laugh.

I was with Ntl Media for some years...then, Virgin(al) Media (which would be referred to hereafter as VM) took over. I was not informed formally of this take-over...yet, I'm supposed to be a customer(who is supposed to be always right)...

This seeming problem with VM started in February 2007-when three of my services were disconnected. I came back from work one evening and tried to make an international call...the phone line was dead. What! Just to double check, I switched on the TV--most of the channels were unsubscribed...still in doubt of what was happening, I decided to switch on the PC--nagative was the result.

To say the truth, I wasn't surprised. I was actually expecting the disconnection(s) to happen.Why? Because, I didn't pay the bills for January and February.Take note, my not paying the bills was not a deliberate act--VM did not send me a bill. The last bill I paid was in December 2006...

Anyway, I went to the phone booth and placed a call to customer services. Take another note, it wasn't a free call. Anyone who is familiar with the routine can picture what I went through.
After being put on hold, and forced to listen to an off-key version of Vivaldi's Four Seasons for what felt like twelve seasons to me, I finally got in touch with someone, a human being.

We went through the usual but boring and annoying formalities--of name, account number, address and password. Then finally, he said his name is Steve Lapses' and asked how he could be of help...
I told him that my services were disconnected and I want to know why. He asked me to hang on for another minute. I waited. The 'slot machine' kept swallowing my coins. I kept adding more. Steve eventually woke up from his latent slumber and said..." I'm afraid you owe £115.21 for January and February.

I said very well. But I want you to look at that same record, and tell me if you people(VM) sent me a bill for those months you just mentioned.

All of sudden, Steve became a stutterer... "em..em ..we..re'..so..so.sor..sor..rri...rry". You are sorry for what ? I scream at him. You didn't send me a bill and now you want me to perform magic...and don't YOU dare ask me why I didn't set-up a direct debit...

Somehow, both us kept quiet for an ackward fraction of a second... Then, I decided to reprimand him by letting him know that it was VM's duty to provide the bills and my responsibity to pay such bills... I told him that the next time they fail to perform their duties and make me suffer, I will cancel the contract...its not an empty threat.

Instanter, I brought out my debit card and gave Steve the card number-with the stern warning that, it was a 'one-off'' payment. And that my services should be reconnected within 24 hours. He gave me his word. The TV came on four hours after, but the telephone and broadband were not reconnected until the next day. Fair enough.

I got the shock of my life when I came home three days after the above ordeal... and saw a reminder bill of £68.67 from VM. This was the 8 of March. My telephone was working, so I called VM immediately. I was told to ignore the bill. It was a mistake. And I said it had better be.

On the 14 of March, I received another bill...£115.21. This was an obvious mistake because that amount was the exact amount I paid for January and February over the phone. So, I ignored the bill.

Three days later, I was at work, my mobile phone rang...it was an unknown number. I answered. The voice at the other end said..." my name is Mr Horrible and I'm calling on behalf of Virgin(al) Media.." I said yes...
"...em, we calling to remind you of your outstanding bill of £115.21...and what you intend to do about it..."

I want you to imagine my state of mind at moment. All I could remember saying was..."are you mad...what bill...?" The bill that I paid two weeks ago?...what is wrong with you people...?

Out of annoyance, I called and cancelled the contract with VM.
One of their technicians came to my house with a report(my name and account no. was on it) saying he has been asked to come and fix a digital cable TV. I laughed. Do these people know what they doing...?I told him that I just cancelled my contract. He was suppose to pick up the digital box. He did picked up the box...after a confirmation call to the office.

My telephone and broadband are still working even though, I have officially terminated the contract.

They still insist that I owe them £115.21. Unfortunately, I don't have a receipt for the transaction (of the payment) I made over the phone...although, I was given an authorization number... and the reflection on my bank statement of the same amount...

If I'm owing anything at all, it should not be more than £40 for the month of March... going by my record...

I need the advise of a lawyer. If you are a lawyer reading this, please advise me for Free... because there is no point charging me for an amount which will be more than the purported bill...

Standing Out in the Crowd...

Recently, I started seeing the face of Mr Ofoluyawo everywhere I go...especially when I'm watching indecent movies. I see his toothy but wicked smile.
I see his grey parted hair that slants to one side like the sixteenth century slave driver.
I also notice his sparkling starchy white shirt that usually takes Okon --his houseboy six grovelling hours to iron.

To meet Mr Ofoluyawo is to meet fear itself. He embodies all the characteristics of a man who must be revered. You either quake before him or you crumble--there is no other option.

Once a group of students decided to dare him-- by staring directly into his eyes... The next day, everyone spoke hushly--Mr Ofoluwayo's eyes emits fire like the fork tongue of a snake...and that, the more you dare to stare, the more you are drawn into his spell unwittingly...

In spite of these dreadful conception of Mr Ofoluwayo, he was loved by all for his morale and outstanding character.
Then, we learnt under misconceived duress--
Now, we appreciate the high standard set for us and we would like to (under pressumed maturity) assimilate these lessons again and again...

Mr Ofoluwayo taught us ..." that in the face of all impossibilties, you can NEVER use Light to look for Darkness "...both are arch- enemies. Wherever there is light, darkness must be repelled...Good must triumph over evil... even if evil tends to have the upper hand for a long time...don't be deceived!

I can still recall some of the hard truth he tried to impart into our thick skulls... truth that were meaningless then...but today, stand as the bedrock of our very existence...

There was a night a group students incuding yours sincerely tried to sneak out of school(at about 11.30pm --after lights-out) to a birthday bash in town--- standing at the other side of the fence was the 'life statue' (as it seems) of Mr Ofoluwayo...
He gathered us into his arm. It wasn't a warm embrace. It was either suspension or outright expulsion.

He took us to his house in the masters' quarters. In fact, he took us into his sparsely furnished living room and delivered this lecture:

"... I know without any doubt in my mind, that you are all well brought up children...but the values which we, as custodians are trying to inculcate into you will be lost if we allow you to continue the way you are going..."

"Life, is very tough...even though I know that some of you are privileged...but these 'privileges' won't amount to anything if each and everyone of you cannnot stand up for the values which we teachers and your parents have strived to inculcate over the years..."

After this collective lecture which brought tears rolling down my cheek, Mr Ofoluwayo further nailed my coffin as it were by pulling me aside... and he continued...

"...I know it is not easy standing up for your values in a large room where everything tends to be directionless; and majority of the people valueless.But remember whose son you are...and try to keep your identity even if surrounded by people who would rather bow to peer pressure..."
Holding your head up high when majority bows theirs low makes you stand out...It is the greatest of challenges!

These words have become more like a rudder blade to me and others in this journey call life...

Imagine this...!

...why are there so many trolleys outside...? I don't know. Get down and find out...It was like a military command--a 'General' giving orders to one of his subordinates...That was the brief conservation between Tracy (my boss) and I on Saturday...

So, I left whatever I was doing and trudged like a zombie downstairs. And truly, there were trolleys all over the place-- some in the middle of the road, others directly behind parked cars...it was chaotic!

I immediately rang up the supervisor in -charge. Paul, thats his name. He came sweating.
Paul, why is there no one picking up these trolleys and returning them to base...I asked.

With an exasperated sigh, he started collecting the trolleys almost immediately.Within a short time, the mess was cleared. But I wasn't satisfied. I intend to find out who was lagging. I went straight to the office to look at the time sheet.

Only two peple signed -in. What happened to the other two...? I asked Paul again.
I can only give account of one he responded defiantly...
And who can you give account of...I asked patiently.
Smith. He is very sick--he replied.What happened to Mr Kwoofie? I asked. I don't know sir... Paul shot back...

I got the message. Tracy and Paul are trying to pass the blame on me.I was the one who personally brought Mr Kwoofie--vouching for his good conduct and character...

This is not the first time he has abstained from work without permission or calling his supervisor....but I'm going to make it is the last...

After work, I stopped over at Mr Kwoofies' place to find out why he was absent....
I met the wife Nana. And from all indications, she's been crying.
Without beating about the bush, I asked her the whereabout of Kwoofie...
Between sobs she told me her husband was arrested that afternoon. what for...? I asked.

She then went on to narrate the most ridiculous story that I have heard in years...
Kwoofie and Nana have a thirteen year old daughter--Aisha.
They all move from Africa to the UK two years ago...Aisha is that type who looks bigger and smarter than her age. Most people(including me-when I saw her the first time) assumed she is seventeen--thats how big she is...

Kwoofie caught Aisha in bed with a guy. A white boy. He decided to take the law into his own hands. He flogged Aisha until she fainted. And when she came to, she had the temerity to call the police...The white boy? He escaped the wrath of a vexed Ghanian.

Mr Kwoofie was given the opportunity to make a phone call... He didn't call me nor Paul his supervisor at work...instead, he chose to call the chairman of his tribe union in the UK...

That was why trolleys were scattered all-over the place...and because I was the one who recommeded Mr Kwoofie for the job, My integrity is at stake.

The funny thing is, I cannot repeat this story before my boss--it would appear as if I brought an irresponsible man for the job --Most of the people at work won't understand--that in Africa, MOST parents beat up their children if they step out of line...and this is quite often....

A Night Walk...

Every other evening, she sits on cold concrete--her violin on her shoulders attempting to play Mozarts' 'overture from the marriage of Figaro'...

Multitude of legs in a hurry threatening to trample on her does not in the lest appear to deter her...
Most times, her eyes are tightly closed as she caresses the strings of her violin with nails badly crooked from age-long habit of using her teeth...

I stood about three feet away listening and almost enjoying the melody...but the frigid atmosphere jolts me to reality...

No one is actually listening--save for some passive glances and two or maybe three 'generous' passers-by -who threw some browish coins her direction...

It is Friday night. I took my gaze slowly to the adjacent building--not really separated, but adjoining the building where the violin lady seated.

Its like stepping from a serene meadow with lush green lawns and rose bud flowers into a metallic junkyard--where the clanging of metals seem interminable...

There, a sea of humanity waited servitudely to purchase their tickets to see naked women... and heavy metal music blared stridently from invisible speakers--reminding us of the fall of man...

This mundane affair have been given immersed publicity for over three weeks. The queue of these 'beings' remind you of motorists in Lagos--during fuel scarcity...

They wait, groins pressed against hips. Here, only the animal instinct are in strung conditions as they can't bear to sexually explode-

Now, I revert my gaze to the violin lady--this time, the sublime 'hallelujah' --Handel's Messiah, was vibrating cozingly to remind us that heaven or hell is a matter of choice...

BLOGGING...A PAIN IN THE ASS!

Caught in a web of tumultous agitation, which all but me can extricate from, I found my itching finger hitting the keys yet again...putting thoughts into words and words into jerky phrases...which I apparently envisage no one except you reads...

Of these two difficult tasks--'writing and reading', my lazy ass has always prefer the latter...
Yet, you lure and entice me like the unconscious worm at the end a hook being dangled by an angler...

And like the fish which cannot discern this booby trap from genuine meal...I'm sucked into this vortex of human contrapment- blogging!

So, what started as a simple pleasurable leisure metamorphesizes into a labourous and excrutiating ordeal--lest the well runs dry for me and others like me...

For some, a necessary sabbatic journey is embarked upon to return rejuvenated--While others from whom we took the cue fizzle out like a puff of wind --thou with rippling effects...

To all such, I say...'may your ink never run try--if scribbling is your thing...
And for those who like to hit the keys directly, may you find harmony...may your thoughts congeal into words, and may your words develop into phrases(not jerky phrases like mine)...

As we all know, phrases don't make sense only sentences(very ambiguous)...therefore, may your phrases phase into sentences...which will develop into chapters...then pages and finally that book...

CAN I HEAR A LOUD AMEN THERE....

A Thousand Apologies...!

First of all, I apologise for tempering with the comment section of 'my' blog. It's done without any bias whatsoever or disrespect to anyone.

Secondly, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to continue posting/blogging as I used to do because of my ever demanding job. I work day and night.

Heaven knows I like putting my thoughts down for others to see and read--if they find it appealing enough.

However, right now , my thoughts are scattered like a thousand pieces of a broken china.
It will take a while to put them back together--

So please, bear with me--I'm still very much around.

Where are Thou...?

For thirteen days they hid under... praying, making supplication to the most high. Precisely ten years ago, Khali lost his father and an elder brother. The Israelis called it the "Grape of Wrath..." As the Israeli forces make incursion through wanton destruction in southern Lebanon...killing women and children, a friend of mine asked a dumb question..."is God/Allah partial...? I said... "what do you mean...? He then made reference to the sad story of Khali--a young Lebanese who lost his father and brother during an earlier (1996) invasion by Israel. In his rage, he asked why God/Allah would allow such oppression and killing of innocent children--especially babies. Why...?Why...? I reminded him of 9/11 and the July bombing of London in 2005. He went totally ballistic. F...ck the Americans and British people...they do not believe in God... But don't forget that in both incidence--9/11 and 7/7, there were 'supposed' christians and muslims...how do you reconcile that...? This 'nut' looked at me straight in the eyes and said..."they were all guilty by association..." So, how do you explain-- that for the umpteen time, the 'minute' state of Israel is able not only to pin the massive muslim states around her to submission, but defeat them collectively hands down...? Needless to add, that the 'infidel' Americans have somewhat restrained them (Israel) from an- all- out invasion. My friend became 'tongue-tied' for a moment. When he eventually found his voice, he concluded by saying..." I think there are TWO Gods-- Jehovah--God of the Israelis/Jews and Allah--God of the Muslims/Arabites... He said it... not me...

Odd But True...

A woman in Devizes, southern England, was awakened in the early morning hours by a telephone call. Hearing moaning, she thought it was an obscene call and hung up. When the phone rang again, bringing similar noises, she was about to hang up again until she recognized her daughter’s voice, yelling "Oh my God!" and followed by a man’s voice. Sure her daughter was being attacked at her home, mom called police, who sped to the scene to find the daughter quite willingly being ...uh... friendly with the man in her bedroom. In the throes of passion, the couple apparently accidentally pressed the "redial" button on the phone with their toes, connecting the boudoir to mom. "This is a warning for other people — if you’re going to indulge in this sort of thing, move the phone," a police spokesman said.


A university professor in Bologna, Italy, writing a paper on the sociology of love, checked his local library for books on kissing. Finding none in Italian, the library arranged for the interlibrary loan of four scholarly books on the subject — from Yorkshire, England. When the Yorkshire librarian called the Italian librarian to ask why the reputedly great-loving Italians didn’t have any academic books on such a basic topic, they retorted "Because we are far too busy doing it to write about it."

Claude A. Smith, 60, a black man housed in an Ohio prison, was in need of prostate surgery. Claude E. Smith III, 43, a white man who until recently was housed in another Ohio prison, is suing the state of Ohio for $3 million, claiming his prostate was removed in error when they sent for the wrong Claude Smith. He charges the operation left him impotent and without bladder control.

Paul Siemens, 18, of Chestnut Ridge, N.Y., graduated second in his class from Spring Valley High School. Despite having been accepted at Harvard to study biology, he has filed suit against the school district, calling their method of determining class rank "erroneous, arbitrary and capricious," and claiming that he would have been number one based on straight grade point average. The suit demands that he be made class valedictorian because in the future, graduate school entrance and grant awards will take his high school class rank into account, and he would be placed at a disadvantage by being ranked number two.This kid should go in for law instead of biology....

Researchers at the University of Southampton (England) have found that constant kneeling in prayer can cause arthritis of the knees. The study of 2,000 people found that excessive kneeling strains the knee, increasing wear of its cartilage. Most at risk are vicars, priests and nuns, the study said. (Reuters) ...While you’re down there, ask for money to pay for joint replacement surgery.

How Medicinal Is Your Urine...?

Of all the English words that try to explain the state of confusion in the form of embarrassment..., the one that fascinates me most is: 'tongue-tied'.

The adjective is so apt when you think of situations and events that have not only surprised you, but actually led to your embarrassment. To be 'tongue-tied'! What could possibly embarrass you to the point of speechlessness...?

Once I had walked into my best friend's sitting-room...lo and behold,his mother lay stark naked on the couch...
I was not tongue-tied, I screamed..."Jesus H. Christ"! I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I guess I said that a thousand times with my back turned.

Last night, after some pints of beer, I went to the 'gents' to relieve my urinary bladder that was threatening burst its seams...

I just started having my pee and feeling my bladder heave a sign of relief... when I noticed three white boys come into the toilet noisily.

One of them tapped me on the shoulder to draw my attention with these words: "I bet you haven't seen anything like this before.."

As I try to comprehend the import of his statement, he zipped down the fly of his trousers, brought out a monster-like 'willie' and started peeing.

It all happened in flash. One of the other guys just cupped his hands; scooped some urine from 'monster-like willie' and swallowed it...

Then, it was a free for all feast of happy urine drinking and splashing amongst the three...
I quietly and hastily left the loo before the idea of splashing their urine on me will occur to one and all...

When I got back to the bar, I narrated my ordeal to my South African companion...and all she could say was..."is that why you look as if you've seen a ghost...?"

I remained speechless! All I could say then was "...you act as if drinking and splashing urine amongst men or women(if I may add) is a normal everyday occurrence... is it? I asked her.

"Hey, relax... you're taking this too serious. In case you don't know, urine is medicinal..."
Somebody should please lecture me on how medicinal urine is...

And if urine is medicinal, is it another person's urine...? How safe is that?

What if the other person passing the urine has of the numerous urethra diseases like -- gonorrhea, syphylis or chlamydia...? How medicinal would that be...?

She too became 'tongue-tied'....

...Is it Really Good to be Back...?

I haven't been to the village in fourteen years--not because I dislike village life, but because, I have nobody familiar enough to embrace and accommodate me. Sounds very funny--isn't it?
But, thats the implication of having parents (from different cultures) who spent almost their entire lives abroad.
You are in the village as a matter of necessity. And you are like a baby learning everything anew.

You get introduced to every passer-by. This, somehow embarrasses you. Why, you do not know.
Then, those wrinkled hands of some hag--that you've always considered to be witches try to cuddle you--involuntarily, you cringe. They sense your action. But they don't say a word--instead, they look at your Dad straight in the eyes.
That look that says "its all your fault... you should have brought them to the village more often... that way, they need not be afraid of their kilt and kin..."

The village setting reminds you of the hilarous comic character called Nkem Owoh. The uptight economy has virtually turned everyone into greedy comedians. They all want more like Oliver Twist.
When you try to explain that the 'Pound-Sterling' is very difficult to get, they laugh...that kind of laughter that insinuates they understand-- but they don't; because they still continue to make these endless demands on you.

You are sympathetic. But you cannot solve all of their problems this one time...
To some, you make this empty promise...' I will send you more money when I get back...'
And to others you genuinely feel like helping...but, you are constrained by your tight budget...
So, you make the same promise...'I will send you some money when I get back...ok...

You are back. Your mortgage (loan repayment) is overdue. Your bills piled up--inspite of the fact that you were away for twenty-six days.
You sit down to reflect... but you don't feel relieved... because, you don't know which is better-- the agressive, needy villagers you fled from or the mortgagee and debt collectors whose embrace you ran into...

Speechless...!

When someone so close to you passes on after a bitter struggle with cancer,
you are mostly like to be silent...

When that person is your eldest sister and mentor for some obvious reasons,
You are most likely to remain shocked...

And when your eldest sister plays the role of your mother... because she is more,
you are mostly likely to be more confused...

But when she passes on; leaving three little kids with mouths agape...
you are most likely to cry...

At times like this Naomi, the only consolation, is in John Donne's word:


"Death, Be Not Proud"


Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Strange...!

I have been down with this annoying flu for three agonising days...
Didn't go to work on Friday, Monday and Tuesday...
My having flu is always annoying because, any damn thing can and may trigger it.
Right now, my nose is making the run--attempting to leave my face...and I have so rubbed it, that the redness is like headlamp.
And I sneeze around thirty-nine times per minute... my head throbs and my ears are blocked and my breath comes in gasp.

As I sat behind my desk--face raised --so this watery catarrh would not drop on the papers, Tracy pops in her head..."hi ya"... she says...
Hello Tracy, I tried saying with my mouth... but very word comes out nasalized.

The police are here to see you was her next statement.
What...?
Two policemen are down-stairs with Justin... I think he is in alot of trouble...they wanno have a word with you...
Me...?" If Justin is in alot of trouble, what has that got to do with me"...I asked her...

We hurried down-stairs. And behold, the police were there for real--with Justin...and he had this strange look on his face...like a cornered rat.

My boss was the first to speak. She said... " officers, this is 'so-obscure'... the one in the CCTV recording".
I looked at Justin straight in the eyes and asked ..."Justin, whats going on...?"
One of the policemen reponded by telling me that for the past five months or there-about, Justin has been smoking 'weed' in the premises...
What has that got to do with me...I asked the officer...
We saw you with Justin on two ocassions in those recordings... and we want to know if you smoke 'weed' too.
For the first time, Justin opened his stinking weedy mouth and said..."officer, he doesn't smoke..."

Yes, ...I don't smoke cigarrette... let alone 'weed'....

That was the statement that saved me my job.

Justin was taken away. According the officers, he's been arrested for 'anti-social behaviour'...

Back upstairs, my boss asked the secretary to type Justin's termination letter. He will get that when he finishes with the police.

The bottom-line is that Justin has turned the car park within the work premises to 'a joint'--where he chills out during lunchbreak to puff his marijuana. He sits in his car while listening to some 'acid rock', and puff away...

Didn't know that the security men had warned him on one ocassion.
They called in the police.

How can any sane man bring marijuana to work and dare to smoke it within the premises....?
I never knew that Justin smokes 'weed'. What I do know is that, he is too quiet to be normal.

Too bad, it had to end this way.
What will he tell his folks back home?

Co-incidence...?

I do not actually believe in witchcraft or wizardry...what I however do know, is that some people are plain wicked.
Right now, I am too flustered to think straight and articulate what I intended to blog.
Someone very close to me called me last night: saying, the step-mom is dead. She died while giving birth. The baby too could not be saved.

That is not the source or cause of my anger.
I strongly suspect the father of this friend of mine to be a wizard. Hear me out.
The dead woman I mention above, is the third wife that has died through child birth in the hands of that man. My friend's mother was the first wife. She died while giving birth to her third child.

We used to be very close family friends until I moved to the UK.
According to my friend--who is trying to keep a wide distance between himself and the father, the man has married thrice within a period of twenty-four years and none of the women is alive. And he is just fifty -four.

A man's second wife dying through the same circumstances as the first may appear to many as a mere co-incidence.
But, for a third wife, the same man... no, this is one coincident too many.