Allow Me…..

pained.

pained.

Well, this is just all sorts of awks.

That moment when you become a stranger in your own house, which you built with your sweat, blood and at the expense of your laptop keyboard, phone screen and twitter intergrity, is as depressing as waiting for Tonto Dikeh to make good music.

Shit happens though, I’m just gonna man up and do what I’ve gotta do.

Allow me to re-introduce myself.

I’m DankarO ShintO, and I’m not a terrorist. Forget I said that last part. I used to write here, back when I still considered myself as one of the writing sorts. I watch, I wait, I steal things and apparently I will send you nudes if you follow me on twitter. Yeah, I want you to have the worst impression of me.

Insha allah, I’m gonna attempt to resume posting here and not just reblogging stuff I wrote for other peeps blogs. It’s been a while and I’m very rusty. My vocabulary has gone to Narnia, I’m a full blown Alomo addict – cause I like the truth, and like they say, the truth is bitter – and it is quite unfortunate that I’m doing this when ASUU is about to call off the strike.

I make up crazy scenerios in my mind, some come together well, some don’t, due to shortage of mind glue. Most times I try too hard to be funny. So even if you’re not amused, just comment LOL and let all be well with the world. For every comment you drop on this blog a starving kid gets fed in Somalia, a gangbanger in the hard streets of Detroit gets led to Christ and a Convenant female student gets impregnated. Do your part to make the world a better place!

There’s a Kenyan saying that “A man brags about his penis, no matter how small”. The originator of said saying definitely hasn’t seen Wande Coal’s nudes. I have no idea why I said that but apparently, I can. More importantly I’ve finally gathered enough mind to start organizing a blog challenge. All ye writers should pucker up for my ass kissing.

I’m yet to perfect a mind throbbing goodbye phrase, got some in the works though, so I’m gonna be using you guys as lab animals and testing them on yousa. Till the next post, stay straight.

Salaam.

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A world I can escape to……

I once read somewhere that a person who can explain the concept of colors to a blind person can explain any other thing in the world. I haven’t written in a while cause I’ve been having a little difficulty transferring my thoughts into words. That ability has always been an integral part of me, but one I didn’t start cultivating until a year ago so forgive me if some of my thoughts-made-words seem amateurish to you. if writing is an high school with six classes, then I’m still in kindergarten. Not your ajebor motokini or even your run-of-the-mill day care, I’m talking Garri school under mango tree here.

From the title of this piece you would obviously know that I haven’t made you click this link to talk about my poor educational background or amateurish writings. As the girl with low self esteem on my BBM keeps reminding me “don’t tell people about your problems……..” I’ve forgotten the rest sef.

Anyways there’s one irrefutable fact of life, and although I’m sure before I get into one of my moods and delete this blog one day I’m gonna tell you a lot of irrefutable facts of life, but this one I’m very sure is the least controversial and the one most of you can relate to.

Life dey hard!

If you have a contrary view to that I would love to hear it, just holla at moi on the comments section. Now I’m just gonna assume we’re all in tune with that and move on.

I just finish seeing a movie about weed by Snoop Dogg and Wiz Khalifa and I just remembered that because life dey hard, we all need that special, less hectic, more relaxed and definitely more fun place we can retreat to when reality goes to shit!

And for those of you thinking I’m about to convince you to start smoking weed, rest easy…. the entire movie just made me realized that different strokes goes for different folks. Some people retreat into weed, or alcohol or drugs… Let’s just say mind altering things sha.

Some peeps retreat into anger, silence like them Tibetan monks, some people retreat into fantasy worlds, role playing and a myriad of very weird stuffs out there for to be retreated into(especially them white folks).

I’ve had a very tedious, rigorous and tiring day today, combined that with the fact that everybody who have opened their mouths to speak to me today seems to have managed to piss me off and just generally rub me off the wrong way(no pun intended). That should give you an inkling of my mood when I got home from school today.

I cannot pretend to understand it’s Magic. I cannot even begin to investigate the process by which it does it. My human mind lack the philosophical abilities and capacities to fathom the extent to which it works the said magic, but today I’m here to introduce you to the world I escape to.

Music.

Like I said I go home In a very rotten mood. Luckily PHCN decided to grace us with their august presence. Three songs later and I, the class proclaimed and faculty enthroned Angry Kid was singing, whistling, doing a few dance steps and altogether having a good time.

It works in different ways for different people. Loud music, low music, happy music, sad music, slow music, fast music, Rock, Hip Hop, Jazz, Classical, Rock and Roll, Afro Beat. Whatever it is you like or are into. Doesn’t matter what tempo you prefer or at what decibel you like it.

Another irrefutable fact of life is music is God’s gift to mankind. and music works for any occasion, celebration of life, death, take off to outer space, like I said, any occasion without music is not complete.

Next time you’re down take my challenge and try it out. Satisfaction guaranteed

A world I can escape to……

God's gift to Mankind

God’s gift to Mankind

Love Matters? (2/3)

*sighs*

I know what y’all be thinking….that I left you in quite a bit of suspense and more importantly, left unceremoniously too. That wasn’t my intention, in fact you only take affront to my leaving cause you haven’t experience the wrath of Mama. Take Muhammad Ali, doing his butterfly floating and bee stinging thingy, combine that with the Incredible Hulk, always ripping and renting clothes and finally add the cold aloofness of Voldemort to that cocktail of terror. That is Mama when’s she gets angry.

But yet again, I digress.

It wasn’t like I had walked up to her and said “let’s hump our brains out,” I almost did that but that wasn’t what I wanted. All I wanted was a companion, someone to be there when I needed someone and vice versa. The problem was that I had gotten to the meat of the pie without first eating the dough. I had said “be mine” without first acknowledging or inventing feelings for her.

To tell you the truth, love has always been sort of an illusion to me. Like that perfect Fufu, with just the right ratio of firmness to suppleness, I’ve always felt true love was a myth. A story probably invented by aliens to conceal their slow and insidious infiltration of our minds and fill us with unrealistic dreams and aspirations. But that, my friend, is another story.

I swear you could have heard a pin drop. Who would have thought an unruly group of college kids could be this decorous? For the next 2 minutes, ears were straining to pick up the next words and I’m sure quite a few other occupants of the room – my friends inclusive – were waiting for the inevitable slaps-giving.

And for all you wondering if that was a Typo, it wasn’t. I had actually asked her “Can I tickle your nipples with a feather”.
It was all part of the strategy. The i-be-so-lonely-and-i-haven’t-had-a-girlfriend-for-2-years-running strategy it was, but still I had an inkling of a plan and half bread as we all know is way better than buns.

You see there was two possible replies to that: “Huh? What did you just say?” and “Yes, please!”

If she replied “huh? What did you just say?”I would have just tugged at my collar and reply, “I said there’s quite a trickle of people given the weather.” It would have saved my cheeks and gotten me an opening line with her.

And if she had said, “Yes, Please! by all means do”, I sir, would have immediately called my cab guy and adjourned the subsequent part of the conversation to the comfort of my room.

Alas I had finally met one for whom the phrase “breaking the mold” was coined. She simply stared at me for a couple of moments with something akin to disappointment in her face, picked up her school bag and walked out of the eatery without a word. The utter look of contentment on my face after about a minute or two would have being puzzling to people who didn’t know what I did. She was coming back, in fact, in the next five minutes she was gonna walk right through that door back to this table and also, on an unrelated subject, I’m awesome.

I was yet to apply for any job yet, so I really don’t know how it feels after hearing the ubiquitous “we’ll get back to you” and being finally gotten back to. But I can imagine that to an extent, I would very much feel like I did while waiting for her to realize how awesome I was and come back, apologize for leaving abruptly, hand me a sheet of paper containing her pin, phone numbers and house address and finally beg me to fix a date for the consummation of our newfangled relationship. If nothing else, just like Martin Luther, I had the right to “have a dream”

The swing of the revolving door brought me out of my day time fantasy/soap opera just as she was going down on one knee and asking me to be her boyfriend. The cute chocolatie girl, this time in realistic technicolor walked back to my table, stared at me for a couple of seconds yet again and this time picked up the enormous Medical textbook she had forgotten on the table and began the cycle all over again. She swiveled on her cute little crepe shoes and proceeded to walk away again. And this time also without a single word.

Yes, things hadn’t gone as planned, or as peculiar to this case, daydreamed. But this dude wasn’t gonna let this second chance of a lifeboat sail away without grasping on to it with both hands and holding tight for dear life. So I immediately stood up and “walk/ran” after her. Okay, I so can’t remember the name of the “Kenyanese” guy that won the Olympic medal for trekking, but apparently this girl could have given him a “walk” for his money. I had immediately stood up and followed her, but when I burst out the door, eyes scanning faster than those of Robocob and Terminator coalesced into one. I couldn’t find her. She, the object of my fantasies and daydreaming was no where to be found.

When I had earlier explained the depth of my gratitude and extent of my joy at finally getting her BlackBerry pin some of you had probably thought I was overly excitable and exaggerating as we amateur writers are prone to doing. But if you had seen me running that day. Yes monsieur, actually sprinting down the corridor towards the car park, I’m sure you would be in Concords with me when I say Usain Bolts had got nothing on me. By a freak accident I had gotten a glimpse of her reflection on the multitude of glass planes the designer of the building apparently thought classy. She had just closed the trunk of a low slung very expensive looking vehicle into which the school bag and massive textbook had obviously being dropped into and was now in the process of getting into the driver seat and zooming off not to be seen again. We sha all know that you never get to see a Unicorn twice in a single lifetime.

How I got across that fast is still a mystery to me, though I’m of the impression that I was almost faster than the speed of light and that the sound I heard while running was not thunder but rather sonic boom as I flew into Mach one and arrived at her window just as she was pulling of the curb.

Marilyn Monroe would have being proud of the grace with which she gently braked, powered down her window and purred “what took you so long?” Do I have to tell you that I was more interested in the piece of paper she handed me than in the grace with which she did it? Even if a professional gymnast had contorted herself into the most awkward or even more preferable the most “interesting” position to hand me that piece of paper. I still wouldn’t have given a hoot. I can just hear Iyanya crooning “all I want is your pin”

I wonder why Mama’s staring at me like that.
Now she’s approaching rather too innocently.
And I think she be holding a broom!
SHIT…..I haff gast to GO!!!

My very first liebster……

liebsterblog1Hey people, approximately 24 hours ago I got an email that got my heart aflutter. Just imagine, after just five months of blogging and just 25 post I got nominated for an award. An award given to up and coming bloggers with under 200 WordPress followers, The Liebster Award originated in Germany. Liebster means dearest or beloved, and Liebe is love. So I feel very ecstatic that people feel I deserve this award. And not just ‘people’ but I was nominated by a blogger who has being kind of role model and inspiration in the struggle to write better and more importantly to write interesting stories and not so crappy articles. So first of all I’d like to thank Tonwa, the not so crazy writer behind The Crazy Nigerian an awesome blog which you all have to check out. Apparently there are some iron clad rule which I have to adhere to or I forfeit (which is out of the question by the way)

The Rules

  • Thank the person who nominated you
  • List 11 random facts about yourself
  • Answer the question they have asked you
  • Nominate 11 other people
  • Ask the nominees 11 question
  • Last and definitely least, let them know you have nominated them.

11 Random Facts about Myself

  • One of my greatest difficulty, as just discovered is apparently answering questions about myself
  • For the past five years now I’ve had this recurring dream where I pick up a magazine and see my name as the richest black dude ever
  • For the first five months after registering this blog on wordpress.com, I was too chicken to post on it.
  •  I earnestly support the theory that everything’s more fun with Alcohol
  • As a kid, I spent quite a long time in my own fantasy world, especially when everybody was being their usual annoying selves.
  • For the next few months I’ll be trying out the whole singlehood and celibacy thingy, so if I seem touchy or grouchy for no particular reason, you know what to blame it on.
  • In approximately 6 months I’ll be a graduate, and I absolutely have no idea what to do with myself.
  • One of my targets for the new year was to win an award for “something” still wondering if this counts?
  • I’m a music fanatic, it just helps me process better and do stuff faster.
  • My friends think I’m too violent, I just don’t see it though.
  • I’m kind of a recluse emotional, why do have to tell you how I feel?

 

Now, the hard part

  • If you could rescue only one personal item from a burning house what would it be – why? It’d be my glasses. So I can actually walk to the fire station, or at least see enough to get the hell outta there.
  • Which would you prefer this year – 10,000 more page views or a hundred more followers? You actually have to ask that? Which is more, 10,000 or 100? I’m a typical African, I’ll go for quantity.
  • Of all the blog themes why did you choose your current blog theme? To be honest, a snail moves faster than my Modem. It was actually the first preview I could open….and it looked kinda cool too.
  • What is the one thing (animate or inanimate) that you are terrified of? One word; Poverty.
  • If you could teleport yourself to any part of the world right now, where would it be? Err… I’d go to Ukraine and see a friend.
  • Which F.R.I.E.N.D.S character do you think you share a similar personality with? I’ll go with Ross Geller, he’s tall, Brilliant, got the cutest girl and it took him a while to get his act together.
  • If you could eat one type of dish for a whole month, what would it be? Actually done this already, and it was Rice all the way.
  • What is the title of you last blog post? Love Matters? (1\3)
  • If you won $1,000,000 what is the first thing you would spend on or invest in? I’d first get myself an ipad….and by the way contributions are now being accepted.
  • When you get angry what do you do to calm yourself down? Tuesdays, Thursday and Saturdays I just go to the Dojo and beat down on some unfortunate individual. Every other day, I listen to music.
  • Do you believe in life after death (explain your reason)? I’m just gonna take the easy way out here, I’m Agnostic.

And my nominations for the Liebster award. Noted for their inspiring and refreshing contents, in no particular order are:

Congratulations. And I’ve also got to ask you guys a few questions too.

My questions for the nominees

  • If you could only rescue one parent from a burning house which would you save, and why?
  • How do spend your free time?
  • What is your greatest achievement so far?
  • If you were appointed President of your country, what would be your first act?
  • If you have to choose between dying by poisoning or suffocation, which will you prefer?
  • If you had just a wish, answer guaranteed what would you wish for?
  • Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings (state reasons please)
  • What are the best five words that would describe you?
  • Which of the F.R.I.E.N.D.S character would date if you have the opportunity?
  • How did you get interested in writing?
  • If you could start all over in life, would you change anything?

 

This is like my longest blog post and I hope y’all have fun reading it.

 NOTE: There is no general committee that handles this award. its’s just a recognition  from one blogger to another for how awesome they are. Kind of like a really big internet hug!

Beht of cos, itz the Naija Dude

*dust shoulders*

Dr. Ehi Enabs

.....And the prince chose the fairest of them all.

…..And the prince chose the fairest of them all.

When Oga “Naija Dude” told me about this piece he wanted me to write I didn’t even think about it, I just said yes and now its been two days and still no inspiration.

Anyhow here I am under the influence of cough syrup (notice I said cough syrup and not codeine?? Yeah that’s because its prescribed and shit…haha) and jazz and I have no idea what to write, so I’m just gonna “wing it”.

The idea behind this article is basically “what is it with Nigerian girls that make them the least romantic in the world?” Right now, I have no idea but hopefully as we go on this journey we’d both find out, is that cool? Yes? No? Psssh! Who cares?

Now let’s start from the beginning (a very good place to start and all). Why are romantic gestures made?? Personally I think its to prove our love to the receiver of such gesture.
Now if we take this understanding of romance and apply it to our society we’ll find out that us, Nigerian girls are never actually required to prove our love.

In the days of the old when wishes were granted and animals could speak it has been said that women had no say when it came to the matter of love, if they felt it no one knew or even cared. Back then if a man wanted a bride he would line up seven (I don’t know the exact number but 7 seems cool) fair maidens and pick the one he decides is the fairest of them all ( snow white, anyone?) Then after he makes his decision he would seek her father’s approval and that’s it! Done did it! Itz ova! He has a bride.

Now if you followed the chain of events leading to the union, you’ll find that there is no way for the girl to “prove her love” to her man, all she has to do is stand there and look pretty.

Now let’s fast forward a little, say to the 60’s and 70’s now during this era, women had a little more say in their love lives, I think its during this time that the feminist voice became not only heard but acknowledged. Now in the west, women of this time used their so called “liberation” to pay for their dinner, have a career, participate in certain sports e.t.c but in Nigeria what do we get?? A bunch of women demanding to be wooed instead of standing there looking pretty, now it was the time for women to do the choosing, they would string along dozens of men, looking for the handsomest, kindest, sweetest, richest, did I mention richest? Yes, the richest men, that would take them “overseas and buy them diamond ring and do things they won’t believe” and these men that are able to do these things for them are chosen to be the father of their kids.
Now again, if you followed the chain of events leading to this union, you’ll find out that once again our women had no need to ever prove their love.

Let’s fast forward some more, to let’s say, this generation. You’ll find out that the females of this generation are from the loins of these 60s and 70s women, women that were wooed with the biggest bush meat and thickest george wrapper. Now do you expect these women of super vaginas and incredibly high standards to let their daughters have any less?? Oh no you didn’t!!! The other day I was complaining of a heart break almost getting a bout of depression and my mother goes “its boy matter that’s making you behave this way?? Hmmm you are no daughter of mine, in my days…….” She went on for quite a bit about how she was a hot piece of ass and how many bush meat she got, I zoned out after an hour or so. According to her, men were supposed to make the grand romantic gestures, they are the ones supposed to be heartbroken for not being manly enough to win the girl”s affection, basically all I could understand from what she said is “stand there and look pretty” (sounds familiar anyone??). So while my mates are showing their lovers how much they love them with luxury cars (Kim k anyone?) And luxury watches I’m here, “standing there and looking pretty” hoping to snag myself a hot piece of rich ass.

Now that we are done with the courtship aspect of this article, let’s focus on the relationship aspect. We’ve been taught by our friends, elder sisters and sometimes mothers that the only gift we can give to our men is our bodies. Its the only way to prove our “love”. Say its our husband/boyfriend’s birthday, how do we tell him happy birthday? We take our clothes off, or they buy us something pretty, how do we thank them? We take our clothes off. Now it has even become an expected and almost compulsory gesture, say your man gets a raise in the office, what does he hear in the locker room? “Man you gon get some today” or ” man you gonna get lucky tonight”. This tried and tested “reward” for good behavior has been a part of our society for so long its become a tradition and it works or else it wouldn’t have lasted for so long.

Now you say not all romantic gestures has to be big and “out there” the little things count or the thought behind it, is what matters. An example of a small romantic gesture, say, breakfast in bed, if your significant other brings you breakfast in bed what’s the first thing that pops into your head?? This is romance?? Haha! I think not!! The first thing that comes to mind is “this is her duty”, if she should wash and iron your clothes, you think “its her duty” she tidies the house for your return, you go “its her duty” she buys you nice clothes you go “I work so much I barely have time, its her duty to take care of me” she programmed your favorite show “its her duty” you go again. Now in the west these little gestures are actually considered romantic but over here “its just her duty”.

Now unto big gestures if a woman should take her man on a luxurious vacation in Nigeria , do you think people would go “so romantic” or “na she dey spend for the man body?? Yup! “Na she dey spend for the man body” is totally the reaction you’d get, some men might even find such gesture emasculating. Or a woman does something like write her man’s name on the side of an airplane what reaction does she get “poor woman, so desperate, last last the man go still fuck about”. Now why on earth would you think I’d go out of my way (with the way the economy is) to do something and get that type of reaction, when I can just stand there and look pretty??

Well I think I’ve got it guys!! Nigerian women are not romantic because we don’t know how to be and mostly, we are not expected to be.

Professor Niro XVII

There are three people that you should not forget in life: the man who brewed your beer, the man who chilled the beer and the man who served the beer. – Sir Pun Starr 2013 AD

On that note, you’re welcome to today’s edition of the annual Naija-Dude Scientific lecture. I am your lecturer for today and we are going to be testing the hypothesis, Nigerian girls are the most unromantic of the female species. Unfortunately, your professor today, is a professor of theology, so we’re going to church. *rings Terry G’s bell*

Before we go on, let’s first create a common ground for the understanding of key terms as it were.

A Nigerian is someone of Nigerian descent (from the republic of Nigeria), whether male or female, living in Nigeria or diaspora.

The word female originates from Old French femele, from Medieval Latin femella (“a female”), from Latin femella (“a young female, a girl”), diminutive of femina (“a woman”).

Just so you know, the English spelling was remodeled under the influence of male, which is not etymologically related. With this definition of mine, I hope, I have been able to prove to you without reasonable doubt that the adage, “What a man can do, a woman can do better”, because they are not even related.

According to a famous biologist, a female refers to the sex of an organism, or a part of an organism, which produces non-mobile ova (egg cells). Most female mammals, including human females, have two X chromosomes. He went further to state that a female [pronounced as fee-meyl] is a person that bears two X chromosomes in the cell nuclei and normally having a vagina, a uterus and ovaries, and developing at puberty a relatively rounded body and enlarged breasts [See how he cleverly excluded A cups] and retaining a beardless face; a girl or woman.

Since we have created a common understanding of what a female is, can we now define the word romance? *turns around looks at lecture hall*

I can’t even lie, the only idea of romance I know, is of Shakespearean plays; I don’t know what that other romance is, as I am still the executive vice chairman of National Council for the Prevention and Protection of Team Forever Alone Members, Rivers Chapter for 3 years running K

The dictionary (can’t remember which of them again) describes the word romance as fanciful; impractical; unrealistic: ideas. Nah. I’m serious. It even went on to say that it is a scenario in which traits of a desire for adventure, chivalry, etc. with ONE person are most dominant. [See how they clearly omitted double dating?]

@oprite: But we were told romance is the expressive and pleasurable feeling from an emotional attraction towards another person associated with love. (@pwetiefibbs cuts in)

@pwetiefibbs: Yes, I read somewhere that romance usually implies an expression of one’s strong romantic love, or one’s deep and strong emotional desires to connect with another person intimately or romantically, that is, the expressive and pleasurable feeling from an emotional attraction towards another person associated with love.

Sigh.

I know I didn’t ask for definitions, but seeing that we are in this class to learn and share ideas, I think I might just borrow a few things from the definitions these ladies have offered.

Do you know that during the initial stages of a romantic relationship, there is more often more emphasis on emotions—especially those of love, intimacy, compassion, appreciation, and affinity—rather than physical intimacy. Please note PHYSICAL INTIMACY. In other words, if all you can offer a boy is your body, you’re not romantic… except the boo is a ritualist, then fine. Can we go on?

@ThelazyMedic: Wise one, why do you say Nigerian females are not romantic?

I’ve not said so yet… but to answer this question, can we turn our bibles (tablets for those of you digital kids) to the thirty and first book of Proverbs, and read from the tenth to the thirty and first verse? I’m reading from the Contemporary English Version (CEV)

I’m going to assume that the female in question is not a P, more like, she’s the official boo… Here we go.

10.  A truly good wife is the most precious treasure a man can find! – A romantic Nigerian female is the most precious treasure a man can find.

11. Her husband depends on her, and she never lets him down. – Can your boyfriend/husband trust you with his money to purchase a FIFA13 game without cutting the money for that watch you’ve had eyes for? Rarely.

12. She is good to him every day of her life, – What this means is that, she respects UCL and EPL time. She understands that he’s busy when a Manchester united game is on and she brings him his favorite beer at half time.

13. And with her own hands she gladly makes clothes. – This doesn’t apply to tailors/seamstresses, but how many Nigerian females will see the boo’s torn shirt and bring out her Singer™ sewing machine to stitch it up? Scratch that, how many Nigerian women have home sewing machines or know how to spin a yarn? [yes, I did Home Economics]

14. She is like a sailing ship that brings food from across the sea. – Let’s replace sea with kitchen. How many of you, know how to stand in the kitchen and would not be like my ex that will tell me, “I will sweat if I cook” and instead prefer to eat at a fastfood. Now they are acting like they don’t know they’re the reason KFC came to Naija. *smh*

15. She gets up before daylight to prepare food for her family and for her servants. – Long thing. Now most of them will be forming “feminist”, when they wake up in the morning, before the oga of the house will even have his bath sef, they’re already swearing in traffic. Sigh. Go on

16. She knows how to buy land and how to plant a vineyard, – Did you see that? She can buy land if she has the money and won’t wait for oga to ‘bring moni’ and when she buys the land, she goes ahead to make an ‘ugwu’ farm. How many of you girls do this? How many?

17. and she always works hard. – In the bed.

18 She knows when to buy or sell, and she stays busy until late at night. – She has the gift of foresight, she is intelligent and spends her late nights working on powerpoint presentations instead of twitpicing nudes.

19 She spins her own cloth, – How many of you naija females make your own ‘buba’ material? None.

22 She does her own sewing, and everything she wears is beautiful. –

26 Her words are sensible, and her advice is thoughtful. – She thinks before she makes statements like, “I cannot wash my boyfriend’s clothes or cook for him”

27 She takes good care of her family and is never lazy. – She does not wake up on a Saturday morning and tweet, “Today I don’t feel like doing anything”.

28 Her children praise her, and with great pride her husband says,

29 “There are many good women, but you are the best!” – This means she does not have low self-esteem. You do not get long hair, you import from Brazil; you do not have long eye lashes, the USA will not have peace etc

He who has eyes, let him see… and if you’re already ‘hating’ on a brother, please read 1 John 3: 15 (KJV)

Are Nigerian females unromantic? Mathew 7: 1-5 answers it.

@Punstarr

 

are you kidding me???

Let’s take them one by one.

“Why is it assumed that of all the problems facing Nigerian farmers, the most acute is treatable by merely buy mobile phones for them?” – Dele Momodu

Speaking as one of the so called future ‘leaders of tomorrow’ and more importantly as a final year student of the Faculty of Agriculture, majoring in Crop Science, I just can’t stop laughing. I’ve being laughing ever since I heard the news about the intended purchase of ten million mobile phones by the government for ten million farmers. I just keep laughing any time it pops into my cranium because the “intellectuals” that came up with that idea obviously lack some vital component of theirs.

The exact….err cause of my mirth is not as funny as you might expect it to be. See, for the past four years, my colleagues and I had being regaled by the various issues and problems confronting the average subsistent farmer. In fact 60 percent of our education so far have being focused on those problems and how they may be thus solved by a dedicated and ultimately sane government;

1). Poor processing and storage facilities (value chain)

2). Lack of incentives for said farmers.

3). Development of lands meant for farming

4). High cost of inputs

6). Lack of funds

7). Poor transportation system

8). Illiteracy

9). And more importantly; non implementation of essential government policies that are supposed to create food security for the nation and subsequently a better life for these hard working farmers.

So I just can’t imagine why the president of our dear Federal Republic, after numerous meetings and consultations with his cabinet, particularly the Minister of Agriculture and the many….oh so many special advisers on various agricultural matters would decide that the best way to help farmers in this brand new 2013 will be to provide the farmers with cell phones. I wonder which phones he intends to buy for them, maybe BlackBerry 10? Or the iPhone 5 perhaps?

Excuse me if I’m being dramatic but I just can’t help it at this moment. About 3-4 months ago we all heard the story about how farmers in the north were swindled out of their “supposedly” free government provided fertilizers which subsequently led to a drop in produce yield and the federal government in its infinite wisdom has discovered that buying them cell phones will trigger an increase in crop production? Or a decrease in pest and disease outbreak? Or and increase in market value of their crops leading to a better life for them and their families?

Let us take it further by quoting from a Basketmouth’s broadcast when the sad news first broke out: “The Federal Government is to procure 10 million telephone handsets worth about N60 billion from China and the US for free distribution to rural farmers across the country. Questions:  Are they buying BlackBerry Porsche for these farmers? Are they going to preload the President’s number in all the phones? As the reason for the purchase is because they want the farmers to have direct contact with the Government? Did the farmers complain that their problem is a mobile phone?”

“Possible facts:

Maybe Obama will distribute the phones himself. Maybe the phones have inbuilt fertilizers in them. Maybe the phones have inbuilt tractors…”

It is a sad fact that this is the kind of country we find ourselves in, and if I hear any-other self righteous individual say “Nigeria go better” I might just end up being jailed for an homicide. A country is only as good as its leaders and according to Dele Momodu once again:

“FIFTH COLUMNISTS have programmed President Jonathan for failure and he’s playing along. He wobbles and fumbles like a victim of hypnotism and Black Magic. No miracle is about to happen. Not in Jonathan’s time.”

You can read the full article by Dele Momodu here