THE LEGAL WATCHMEN MOVES TO A NEW ERA.

    To our ardent fans and readers, even those behind-the-scene secretly acclaiming to be our fans, we wish to announce to you that The Legal Watchmen, after a nice spell of success with Blogger account, following the melange of complaints from our readers, has taken a quantum leap from our  present conservative Blogger account to the more stylish Wordpress account. Henceforth, we will no longer be attuned with the former site www.legalwatchmen.blogspot.com, but now to be recognized with our new site www.legalwatchmen.wordpress.com. Our migration, does not mean a total black out of the previous site as reference can still be made to it. Let us understand that this successful move is not the end in itself, neither is it the beginning of the end, but perhaps, the end of the beginning of an old era into the dawn of a new era for The Legal Watchmen.

C'EST LA VIE.

      A French expression that implies,‘‘SUCH IS LIFE’.  A carnival of naked souls dancing through blooming thorns and hopping through muffled shrills...that is the life we live! Remember how you feel when people make statements like ‘such is life’.Some call it a bed of roses,some call it a dice because of its unpredictability. Others call it a stage while for others,a bumpy ride. After a tested argument,one immersed in the waters of experience I beg to call it an IRONY!!!!!

 A scholar,OKPAMEN.E,once purported life to be the dichotomy between expectation and reality.In an air of utmost bewilderment I asked myself how many of my expectations have actually turned out as premeditated? Alas, all I got was a cocoon waiting to hatch. I was awe-stricken!.

     Dear friends,life is not as white as it is painted..it is a plenary of vagaries.It is erratic,unbelievable,unfathomable and of course an IRONY. Some sick and "about-to-die" debaters open their maggot-infested buccal cavities to interdict and malign my humble belief that the origin of man has always been ironical .Why wouldn't I call it an irony when we live in a world where:

* Those whose accounts have climbed monetary 'Kilimanjaros' lack the

acumen to innovate and create while those who swindle progressively

downwards from one financial hiccup to the other have bright plans and

dreams but actualize them.

* Those who lie contentedly at the bottom of the intellectual

foodchain pass out with flying colours while those who are tagged

‘‘walking encyclopedias’’ see their results and lament .

* Those who swim in the waters of carnality fellowship with success

while the ardent believers of the faith have frustration and misery

looking straight into their eyes.

* Those who get recurrent A's and excellent grades graduate and end up

jobless,feeding themselves with the sight of a well designed A-4 paper

with the word ‘‘distinction’’ written boldly across while those worse off in grades go on to create economic empires.

*Those who fervently serve God continue with their wonderful

fellowships in their graves while the dyed-in-wool spiritual

non-entities live so long that they even tell their skulduggery and

unwholesome escapades even to successive filial generations.

*Those who are  adorned with "plain Jane" attributes and  enjoy the warmth of handsome husbands,while the

untowardly-legged tout marry  the Agbani Daregos".

*Those with the confidence of success after exams find failure as an

inevitable companion while those who kept praying in frightened

silence are awe-stricken with A's..

* Those with the nicest,mildest,gentlest and most caring of hearts

suffer the most pungent of emotional discombobulations leaving scars

in their hearts.

*Those who are the true men of God spend decades in "huts" moralizing

members of their nuclear families while those who pray day and night

exalting materialism and edifying their pockets enjoy the pleasure of

an avalanche of members in virtuous edifices.

* Those considered "churchy" end up being called mummies in their

teens while the supposed workers of the old profession(freegivers) are

solemnized in "holy" matrimonies..

*Those deemed to be extremely beautiful ripen,fade off and begin to

beg for husbands by hook or crook while those who have physical

problems with beauty are blessed with a dozen fruits of the

womb,almost practising polyandry.

*Legal practitioners,law enforcement agents meant to fight injustice

and corruption have their hearts schooled in injustice..

ARE THESE ALL NOT IRONICAL? How pitiable!! This actually is life!! Certain things happen we can't explain how incongruous they are. Sometimes ironies are a date with destinies-a product of one's fate.

Other times,a repercussion. Those who live in virtuous edifices must refrain from catapulting perilous projectiles because as provided in GAL 6:7,it will definitely boomerang..

Only GOD  solves the riddles of life..do good,live ur life to the fullest of its potentials and fight for your dreams..

                                                                                         Written By DESTINY OSAYI aka Mr. Possible

SELF HARM

The principle of violenti non fit injuria is a Common Law maxim which is used to describe a situation where someone befalls a harm upon himself by inviting and opening himself to such risk. Hence, where a person opens himself to risk by willingly inviting such ill fortune upon himself, he is not ordinarily expected to recover protection from the law. The law would deem him to have consented to the injurious act. This principle forms one of the basis of tortious liability, and it is a very good defence which can completely exonerate a defendant if pleaded successfully.

In Nigeria, we are fond of exposing ourselves to risks and harm which would make it very difficult for us to seek redress under the law. Imagine the carpenter who has no visible means of procuring a good life for himself who goes ahead to marry a wife and start a family. He doesn't just stop there. He also goes ahead to have at least seven children with his wife, and does so with such impunity suggestive of the fact that he has a divine mandate to replenish the earth. He thus confines his multifarious family to the assorted pleasures of poverty in a tiny one room apartment, where they are subject to all forms of malodorous sufferings. Many at times, he doesn't just stop there: he goes further to marry a second wife, and introduces the new wife and her children to a habitat of misery

Or imagine the undergraduate who walks the street of an off campus around 10 p.m at night, pinging nonchalantly with an iPad in his hands and Beats by Dre Headphones hanging from his shoulders. If and when he eventually gets assaulted and robbed by cultists patrolling the area, one can safely conclude that he invited or even hastened the calamity upon himself.

Then the classical case of the girl that is always forming classy chic also comes to mind. With her bump shorts (did I get the spelling correctly?) and skimpy pants that can barely cover the subject matter of what clothes are meant for. The girl that always exposes hideous portions of her mammary glands and displays her ailing merchandise to the world. Yet, she takes her time to refuse advances from the opposite sex. She refuses to give the cookie to men legitimately, and guess what? They will take it by force! Even the Holy Book enjoins us to use violence when we encounter resistance (no be me talk am oo).

In such circumstances, the principal characters act outside the protection of the law from the moment they begin to display behaviours of brash recklessness and uncouth impetuousness. It would be very farcical for such person to expect the aggressor to act in a different manner, and it wouldn’t be unfathomable for a by-stander to refuse to interfere or come to his/her aid.

A girl recently updated her Facebook status to read:

                Virginity isn't dignity, it is just lack of opportunity.

A detailed analysis of that statement would reveal that the girl is sending across two messages:

1.       There is no pride in being a virgin.

2.       She (the Facebook updater) would seize or effectively utilise any available opportunity to have sex.

Now, assuming a rational man or guy who has being trying repeatedly in the past to clinch an affair with this girl in the past, but has been constantly refused, he would no doubt rely on the strength of this statement to get what he wants by all means (including divine violence). One cannot blame the aggressor in this circumstance for acting upon such information in furtherance of his unholy purpose.

Many girls (and women) are in the habit of remarking that (all) men are dogs, but they forget that they were the handlers who held out the bone to them by their Jezebelistic acts of inducing the opposite sex into forming mental images about them through their skimpy apparel.

Another “Nigerian” aphorism seems to be gaining grounds on the Social Media. This is the saying that Clothes are expensive nowadays. Many persons, male and females alike, use it as an impetus to dress half naked before leaving their houses. They cannot of course afford longer garments which are more expensive. They would make one believe that the cost (in terms of yards of material used) of producing a G-String panty is infinitesimal in comparison to the cost of production of a pair of Grandma Panties (you know what I mean). We can also infer that Deeper Life Gowns (which are not unlike the robes worn by students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the Harry Potter Series) are more expensive than skimpy jeans, bump shorts, armless tops and the other devices of temptation which youths of contemporary society prefer.

Everything that goes around comes around. One cannot sow mango seeds and expect to harvest oranges. You cannot roam the streets of a ‘danger-zone’ at night with your tush mobile devices in hand and expect not to get assaulted. Neither can one without substantive means of catering for himself decide to start a large family and expect manna to fall from heaven daily like the bags of rice shared by politicians during electoral campaigns. In the same vein, a girl cannot be sending out mixed messages through her dressing and SNS statuses and expect men (or boys like me) to treat her like a queen. Hian!!

                                                                                                                            

I am Oluwanonso_Esq on Twitter.

WHILST THE GREEN WILTS.

   
That man should name the animals and vegetation, having charge over them was a foremost dictum that has now unfurled itself into modern day trade: the business called Agriculture. One of the primeval assignment saddled man by the Omnipotent, no doubt is being enshrouded by the Devil's excreta veil: the faeces called oil. The post-civil war era that witnessed the debouch of poultry, livestock and other agricultural enterprise; that also scale-preferenced top budgetary demands is almost eclipsing with Nigeria’s monomania-dependence on oil. As it seems to be, our excessive reliance on what probably is our most lucrative natural resource, has now become a thorn in the flesh of the Federal Government. Being the Giant of Africa and ironically overtaking South Africa to become the fastest growing economy, Nigeria has continued to consolidate on her past glory and update her present status as one of the leading importers of agricultural products, whilst her green field desiccates unabatedly.    
         
As the tide surges further, the importation of agricultural products like fish and other non-agricultural products into the country barometers the federal government's lopsided attention given to agriculture under and below the oil and gas sector. Agriculture, being in the concurrent legislative list, in the Second Schedule, Part 2 of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria (1999), shared by both the Federal and State Government, one would have expected, that aside federal allocations, states generating revenue internally make agriculture a top most priority . Rather, the issue of education that has kept on hamstringing some graduates to speak in public or even draft a simple letter, takes, amongst security and defence, the ace in top budgetary allocations. When ebullient men and women who need not be taught the barebones of farming are still left in the lurch for the receipt of finance to cultivate their produce. I have not taken a stand that education or even security be not given paramount treatment, but that human capital will amount to nought if the creation of opportunities like investment in agriculture takes a posterior angle.    
          
Nigeria's investment in agriculture is alarming. Within seven (7) years (2007-2013), the Nigerian Federal Government has allocated an average of just 6.5% of the national budget to agriculture, risking even greater hunger across the country. If Ghana could peg about 9-10% budget for the agricultural sector, Rwanda 10% and Burundi 10.9%, being the only countries to have complied with the 2003 Maputo Declaration that pegged 10% of the country's budget to agriculture for the continent, one cannot but phantom the criteria that makes the gigantism out of Nigeria, where states therein still flaunt slogans like: Farming is our Pride, when in reality it has lost its salt; Food basket of the Nation, when she still remains one of those countries importing agricultural products and the Nature's gift of the Nation, when her rich minerals are yet to be tapped. I will not contradict myself if I fortune-tell the already dormant but living auxins of hope, the green-white-green Nigerian flag that depicts Nigeria’s green field; vegetation and variance, will soon evanescent its figurative expression to whatever can be imagined should the place of agric in decades to come downgrade further it's present position.                      

Since the implementation of policies has always been a hard nut to crack by the Federal Government, farmers and other small and medium scale enterprisers may not expect much this 2014 from the government as they have customarily promised, to provide subsidies to five (5) million farmers nationwide using the e-wallet system. The recently launched self-employed initiative under the Youth Employment in Agriculture Programme (YEAP), called the Nagropreneur programme, will develop over 750,000 youth-commercial farmers by 2015. Establish new agro-industrial clusters to complement the staple crop processing zones being developed across the country. In partnership with the private sector, the Fund for Agricultural Finance in Nigeria (FIFIN), a private equity fund to invest in agro-business across the country will be launched.
The Federal Ministry of Finance, budget 2014, themed, 'A Budget for Jobs and Inclusive Growth' and other laid down objectives for the agricultural sector, if at least a quart can be executed, and the effect probably felt by those farmers in the rural areas,..


DAVIDSON OBABUEKI.

OFFERING VS THE WORD

This post is the musings of a guest writer who calls himself an Esquire even when he is infact, not one. It is an attempt to harangue on the mentality which beffudles many a churchgoer when paying his' offerings and tithes dutifully. The story is written by Cosmos Harmony Nayaba.
Enjoy!

OFFERING VS THE WORD

Well,

There are a lot of things I'd love to correct opprobrious impressions on. One of which is the issue of church funds – tithes, vows, offering and the likes.

Personally, I believe this is how things are done (and I might be wrong). Church offerings, vows and tithes made IN and TO the church are meant to be used primarily for the furtherance of the gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and this includes construction of church buildings, acquisition of means of transportation (for evangelical purposes) and the payment of the salaries of pastors (for those that get paid - I really do not know much about this).

Now, some of us are of the notion that Pastors (sadly a vast majority of the wealthy ones) have made their fortune out of the offerings and donations. I'm not here to plead their case, no. But; I like to believe that this accumulated riches comes from members who out of their discretion have deemed it fit to sow "seeds" into the life their spiritual fathers (I choose to believe the concept of "seeds" is well understood).

I'm not exactly surprised that people could actually think up such. The trending "Rich Pastor - Poor Congregation" is to blame. And then, we’re all humans and we know how we act and react when it comes down to money issues. But I do however believe that is why we have church council comprising of Elders, Church Secretaries and the likes. I imagine a situation where such is absent. Folks would go "Na so we see am o. Only him na pastor, na secretary. How e nor go spend our money as e like?” Well, we have a church council. Unless of course, the accusations rubs on the council too.

Now, there’s a part of this issue I would like to just mention but not talk about. And that is the establishment of church universities (some would say built with church offering) that a vast majority of the members who contributed offerings and vows to this end cannot afford the fees of these universities when established.
Conclusively, your offering is not your tax that you do a "follow up" on. And of the many things that are certain, it is neither in your place nor mine to judge these pastors or anyone at that. If you are so knowledgeable to know the way our churches are being run in our day is not in accordance with what the bible says, you should also know that you were never made a judge. On that Day of Judgment, I'm quite sure God will not call you and ask for your opinion on how you think the Pastor ran the affairs of the church. "To Each Mallam, His Kettle".
Other than bothering yourself with such issues, you should rather focus on what is important and that is making heaven on that final day.

I pray the Lord help us all in our daily lives.
And that we may never lose sight of what is right.
Stay Strong in the Faith.
God Bless.

@Harmeet_Esq

INTELLECTUAL PREJUDICE

Hello friends and family. I am sure we were missed. Well, the administrators of this blog have all been busy writing semester examinations at the University of Benin, and we are glad to announce that we are done now and ready to fire with back to back articles.
We shall be making some structural changes to the blog as we have signed some new top-notch writers. We assure you that the Legal Watchmen is up and ready to watch us legally till we transist to the new year.

Today's article was written by a guest writer who happens to be a Final Year student of the Faculty of Law of the University of Benin. It hampers on the foremost subject which is on every students' mind during examinations.
Enjoy!

INTELLECTUAL PREJUDICE

What if I told you that examinations are a violation of your human rights? What if I told you that every time you wrote an examination you trampled on your right to freedom of expression, intellectual expression? Why should individuals who are on diverse intellectual wavelengths express themselves via a sole means: written exams. And where it so happens that they fall short, they are viewed as failures. Why call a fellow dull when the system is not tailored for him or her, when all that he/she is amounts to is a misfit, a maverick? Isn't that a novel form of discrimination-cerebral profiling? Einstein once said:  “If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole live believing it is silly.”
I once wrote an examination that was definitely brewed in the vilest, dankest parts of the underworld: Psychology. The examination arrived in the infamous German objective format. I felt this cauldron of anger bubbling merrily in my stomach after I wrote that exam. I have never departed from any examination hall fuming before that day. I was well and truly enraged and for good reason too. Why? It made no sense to me. How? A certain question went thus:
 ______ is the willingness to help?
The first thing that came to my mind was empathy and I put it down without a second thought. Now, it so turned out that I was wrong. How? The answer to that question according to the lecturer's textbook is 'commitment'. Now, I'm going to flunk that question because my answer ran afoul of the system. I was grammatically right but systematically wrong.
I do not see the reason why it should be dubbed a learning process if all I'm going to do is gulp down the contents of a textbook for the sole purpose of regurgitating the exact same contents (verbatim) in the exam hall like I'm some ruminant animal with a digestive problem. It makes no sense for me to plonk stuff down my academic gullet for the sole purpose of passing an exam and getting a certain grade.
Why is it called school, when all it does is flood my mind with stuff I’ll never need in the real world? Why is it called a learning process if all it does is make me a certificate toting, unlearned contraption who spent the last four to five years guzzling enormous helpings of data he forgets with every hour that passes after he drops his pen and turns my exam sheet in? Why should I be called an educated man when I possess a malformed mind that has been beaten out of shape by an arcane system and neutered of the ability to think? Why should I be referred to as a leader of tomorrow when I get tested today by a system that belongs to yesterday? Why should that lad or damsel who's at the zenith of the class dubbed a genius when all that he/she is good at is downing insane amounts of data like they are tequila shots? Why not just refer to him or her as an oxygen breathing human computer?
Heck, referring to that 'genius' as a computer is a snide jab at computers- computers process data into information, all our acclaimed 'geniuses' are apt at is engorging their minds with data
From textbooks and regurgitating this same data like malfunctioning computers. Sour grapes? I think not. Why should it be called an educational system if all it turns is mass produce and churn out academic jalopies, graduates who are clones of themselves? In my opinion, it should be dubbed a mental institution for mentally deformed zombified conformists -folks who can't reason outside the academic box if their lives depended on it.
So many questions....
That's the end of my babble.



Written by Aloaye Daniel Igiekhumhe. He can be contacted via email at daniel007ace@ovi.com.

TEARS OF A WAILING WAILER

On this day, in 1995, a great icon was extinguished by one of the most gruesome leaders Nigeria ever witnessed. His voice may be silenced, but his words live on...

TEARS OF A WAILING WAILER

Least in the imagination of any level-headed being is to fold ones hands amidst intense social conflict whence the wherewithal is within ones reach to call the shot. To a sane person, one who fights and eventually dies for a cause he or she deems just to the society, will naturally chaperone such, to the very end if there is any. Will ordinarily not turn turk such vital a cause for any flimsy reason. If it be in the off chance, worst comes to worst, whether the existing legal order be a military or civilian one, will travel the farthest mile to set in stone his or her works as mementoes.
Nineteen years after the gruesome and grovel execution of a great African leader, born on the 10th day of October; Kenule ‘Ken’ Beeson Saro Wiwa and eight others by the then paper tiger, Sani Abacha’s administration, what seemed a cause dying for the Ogoniland inhabitants and Nigerians have turned an ancestral curse to human lives with the continued and pernicious violence dished out by the government-supported oil companies operations in the Niger-Delta regions.
The sojourn of this great leader has continued to transport unendingly the highroads of history and it is beyond a shadow of doubt that he is referred to as a non-violent struggler. A prolific writer (SOZA BOY-his best known novel, written in Rotten English), an artist, journalist and a television producer of the long-running satirical T.V series’ Basi & Co, purported to be the most watched soap opera of that time. Also was he a onetime President of the Association of Nigerian Authors, and the President, though, initially, as the Spin Doctor, of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP). He was consistently concerned about the treatment of the Ogoni people that led to his dismissal in 1973, from his post as regional Commissioner for Education in Rivers State cabinet, whilst vehemently advocating greater autonomy for the Ogoni people. He taught and chose to advocate for change using non-violent resistance techniques such as poetry, prose and peaceful protest that some ill-willed and intransigent politicians of our time have incoherently resolved not to change.
Tried and executed by hanging, after they were found guilty for the death of four Ogoni community leaders, Ken’s parting short has unfortunately knelled the bell of disaster, with the continued virulent activities of oil companies on the inhabitants of the Niger-Delta region when he said ; “…The company (Royal Dutch Shell Company) has indeed ducked this particular trial, but, it’s day will surely come and the lessons learnt here will prove useful for it, for there is no doubt in my mind that the ecological war that the company has waged in the Delta, will be called to question sooner than later…” What was said about 19 years ago has prophetically exacerbated itself with maximum negative impacts on the people of the region mostly subsistent farmers from the activities of Shell and other oil companies operating in the area. Juxtaposing the judicial proceedings that lead to their execution with present day decisions reached by our judges, on cases involving renowned social economical, and political thieves and murderers, a thin line of similarity is found that the judicial system that ought to be the hope of the common man, is now a tool easily manipulated by the elite and powerful in the society for their solipsistic gains. It continues to wriggle my heart at the state of the nation where rights are now termed wrong and wrong rights, one that has made many take solace in the words of Dele Giwa that; “Any evil done by a man to another man, will certainly be repaid either by man or God, if not now, but, certainly later.” For a nation like ours that have continued to depend on the revenue that accrue directly from the liquid black gold, could not succumb to the basic demands of MOSOP as enlisted in their 1990 Ogoni Bill Of Rights to wit; clean-up of oil spills, reduction of gas flaring, fair compensation of lost land income, resources et cetera, and a fair share of profits gained from oil drilled at their expense.
 MOSOP has bewailed the failure of the Federal Government to take urgent steps to address the challenges identified by the United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP) report on Ogoniland that points out how public health has being endangered in at least ten Ogoni communities where drinking water is contaminated with high levels of hydrocarbons, benzene (a known carcinogen at 900 times above recommended levels) amongst other things. For sure, we are certain that the rate of strikes embarked on by union workers, like the proposed Nigerian Union of Petroleum and Natural Gas Workers (NUPENG) and the Petroleum and Natural Gas Senior Staff Association of Nigeria (PENGASSAN) strike to be embarked on, after a recent ultimatum given the Federal Government to recall their sacked members in Total, E & P, Agip and Mobil and other grumpy disagreements like the non-passage of the Petroleum Industry Bill (PIB) that has suffered legislative postponement is only a fight that will continue time unending; an attestation that the tear-stained eyes of the wailing wailers, will only go dry the day unionists, activists, concerned citizens and individuals world over don’t keep silent over the damnable operations of oil companies in Nigeria and by extension the world


Written by IGIEMWIN DARLINGTON NOSAKHARE a.k.a RAS-D, a Mechanical Engineering student from the University of Benin.

LETTERS FROM COLLINS ARIKOR: NOT YET 30 NIGERIAN GIRL.

Dear not-yet-30 Nigerian girl, I duly received your earlier letter asking me what you must do before you turn 30. It was a very expressive letter, though only flawed with a couple of grammatical errors here and there. You are forgiven though, for english has never been your father's language. Nevertheless, and in response to that, I shall be very brief with what I have to tell you, but if I happen to be long, please bear with me for it is how deeply this issue has touched me for the past three weeks that I've been having this argument with a very good friend as to the 'unprecedented' achievement of getting married before you turn 30. I clearly detected the belated and relished tone of your letter. It might seem crazy what I have to say, but I would say it nonetheless. Let me go straight to the point. Forgive my brusqueness and mindlessness in replying you like this, for I've never had the 'golden' opportunity of experiencing what am telling you myself. So, see below the six most important things you need to do before you turn 30:


1. Marry: Because that is the only way you become complete as human. That is the only route to be acceptable to society. Things would get better if you get married, notwithstanding that your father might be richer than Bill Gates. The institution known as marriage remains the only fundamental basis of your worth as a member of our larger society. Don't be like those incomplete women who tag themselves 'feminists' and 'independent women'. Those ones parading themselves as independent women or feminists are nothing but some bunch of failed women! They are not truly speaking of the psychological torment they undergo on many sleepless nights when they don't have any man to warm their beds. So, don't emulate them. Marry! It doesn't even matter that you have to throw away your father's sweet-sounding and much-meaning surname to bear a husband's own meaningless surname. Haven't you noticed? the media is majorly overshadowed with subtle, yet powerful messages that being married is the fons et origo of feminine existence. You would constantly be reminded of your flower-like longevity as a woman. That he might be bad-tempered, randy and a serial wife batterer is of no significance. You would even be expected to throw away your own body's autonomy. And if you are able to miraculously scale the hurdle of being accepted by his family members - most especially his mother and sisters, go to a nearby church and give the highest amount of thanksgiving ever given in that church. Haven't you noticed that even church messages are heavily furnished with this marriage-mania? “My husband must not pass me by this year,” calls out that church's crusade banner. “You must receive your heavenly husband by this month!” the preacher would triumphantly declare on radio. “I must get married this year!” the T.V would echo, while reminding you of the 3-day single sisters crusade being organised by the local church. But, that certainly is not the end of the matter, for a mother in-law's arms were specifically created to rock babies. You know what to do. And where the babies have refused to leave wherever was their initial abode to grace your marriage, quickly go for a spiritual cleansing or to a very potent babalawo who would inquire into unfathomable depths to know what is preventing them from coming. It doesn't matter the despicable things you have to do in order to have babies. When the babies finally decide to let go off where they initially reside to grace your marriage, and your husband is going about showing off his bloated ego of how he has made you a complete woman, suffer in silence sister. He is right. Lest I forget, remember to give him sons especially, or else mother in-law literally show you hell. Wherever it is you know sons are made, go to any length and give him because that is the only way his ancestry would continue. If you don't give him sons, he might be publicly scorned, and where that happens, you would bear the brunt of it alone. Weep secretly, but smile publicly. That's the idea. You are married. End of story.


2. I said marry: Even though you might never have the slightest iota of 'love' for him, don't worry, just go ahead and pretend as if you love him. Its just a matter of time. With time, you would learn to love him. His roof over your head, his wealth at your beck and his surname that you are now sharing are enough consideration for you to love him. Where's the place of love in marriages today? After all, you are far better than those old sourpussed spinsters parading themselves as independent women. Those lesbians! Psychological wrecks! Do you know what it means to have your own man - whether he is the type that has hotter-than-fire loins? He might not even get to fulfil your emotional needs, but don't worry, dear, you are married. That's all that matters. The sex timetable is according to the frequency of his sexual urge. It is just one funless boring routine like that. In the middle of the night, his hands would 'mistakenly' stray across your breasts. You instantly become awake. You immediately spread your legs as his plaything because you understand. The sex itself is a slapdash, lacklustre affair. When he's sexually satiated, he rolls over to sleep without bothering to see the furrows of unfulfilled desires stealing over your soul. Don't ever open your mouth to speak of how unfulfilled you are, sister, or else you would be sent back home to your parents - and consequently bring shame upon your family. Telling of how unfulfilled your emotions and needs are is only done by loose women - women of easy virtues. Or do you want to be labelled a nagging wife? And if he ever forces you to have sex against your will, that is not rape sister. The law backs him for that. He can demand the services of your body anytime he wants. Your body is his to be sated with pleasure. Its his right. It doesn't affect him in the least that you might be famished after a tedious day nor that some 'unhappy' and 'envious' ones in the guise of feminism are advocating for your own rights, too.


3. You should marry: Even though you might be the one single-handedly feeding and housing the able-bodied man and your children from the meagre salary you receive or the little business profits you've managed to pool, don't bother sister. Just bear and pretend everything is perfect. Its just for the now. Even if tomorrow he gets a job and decides not to do his own duties of providing for the family as the head of the house again by making Madam Vero's beer parlour as his place of permanent abode, don't worry, just go ahead and continue doing the husband's work, that's marriage. Its for better or worse - however for better or worse as it suits the husband. He might even come back at 1am and is heavily smelling of a woman's cologne - you knew this because he bought you the same type on your last birthday. She (side chick) might have even suggested he buy it as your birthday present - but don't worry sister, he's a man and would always be one. Bottom line is you are married. In any case, just remember to make ready your body for the night, in case the stud hasn't gotten enough feel of his extra-marital concubines. Should you complain to a senior, more experienced wife, she would duly tell you of how men are lords in our society. “Don't you address him as my lord?” she would coldly ask. That settles it. And when you meet the pastor in your perturbed state, he would joyfully tell your sorrow-laden soul that Mark 10:9 has finalised your case. ie, “What God has joined together, let no man, trouble, pain, predicament, suffering (the list goes on) put assunder. He would quickly point out the bible portion in Ephesians 5:21-24, which requires you to submit to your husband, while stressing how important it is for you to be humble, gentle, and tolerant of your husband's unsavoury behaviours. And where your confused mind is still seeking for more explanation, he would gladly guide you to 1st Timothy 2:11-12 which says, “Women should learn in all silence and humility; I do not allow them to teach or to have authority over men, they must keep quiet.” (Good News Bible).


4. Marry: Or if you don't, there would be a very big problem. A very big problem. When at Tessy's baby shower or Amina's birthday party, and you listen to all the old girls effortlessly and endlessly mouthing out the 'heavenly' bliss their marriage has thus far fruited, you would become heartbroken I assure you. Even the mannish Amaka, whose hair was always cut short, and had little or no feminine charms would join in the gossip to point out your odd-one-out status as the only non-married member remaining from secondary school because she happened to have joined the league of married women. A bevy of them all, praising to high heavens their perfect marriage. However, Susan would never tell that the week-old bruises she's manfully wearing were administered by her abusive husband, nor would Stella ever tell of how her ten-year old son, Junior, is gradually turning into a full-time thief by 'taking' money from her purse and throwing a class-break snacks bash for his friends, nor would Vicky tell of her pubertal daughter's well-known shameful conduct of being a runs girl, nor would even Jumoke tell of her well-known he-goat of a husband's widely circulated rumour of impregnating 5 different women. They would only be telling of how wonderful and heavenly their respective families have been. You would become a mental wreck after listening to them and you don't have your own husband. You see, there's no problem with you having your own impish 'Junior' or a reprehensible character as a daughter. It's just a mere price to pay for being married. You are far off better than any unmarried, and of course, unhappy spinster. It doesn't matter the near-death experience of childbirth nor the fact that you've turned into a constant HBP in-patient of the nearby hospital for time without end because you happen to be a mother of stubborn children. Just marry. That's all that counts.


5. Yes, marry: You are getting to 28 and you happen to be of the Igbo ethnic affiliation and no male homo sapiens is showing the slightest interest in you, do you want all your father's 'investment' on your head to become a waste, if you don't get married? Your mother would not longer hide her disdain for you remaining in her own house to share her husband with her. Just go out and marry anything. Moreso if you are of Bini customary origin and you are getting close to 25, 26 or 27 and no suitor is knocking on your father's door, then my sister, that wicked old witch in your village really needs to be appeased. For beyond 30, your brideprice starts depreciating. You are of the muslim stock and your father unceremoniously announces that you would be married off to Alhaji Danladi, you grandfather's age-mate, immediately you turn 18. Alhaji Danladi already has 3 wives, but because you have been bethrothed to him when you were born and Islam allows a man to have as many wives he wants (can control), you must marry him whether you like it or not. Don't complain sister, just go ahead and play a subservient handmaid role in Alhaji's house, because that's what you would end up being. Alhaji being the omnipotent master. It doesn't even matter that you might be in your 2nd year in the University then. And if by chance you 'mistakenly' like one very good non-Muslim boy in your class, don't ever increase the mistake by falling in love with him, or else you would spell doom for yourself and your remaining sisters. Because your father would construe such 'irresponsible' conduct to be the ugly fruits of sending a girl to school, and thus would stop sending your other sisters to school. “Haven't I said it that nothing good comes out of that their western education when given to girls? The girls would only turn out to become disobedient and rebellious to their parents!” He would angrily thunder in a family meeting. And all his 3 wives -your stepmothers - would speechlessly nod their approval in unison. It is inimical of a properly brought-up muslim girl, they would all echo in their hearts. And you that your parents happen to be far down the rungs of societal ladder, or they are even classless, as it were, you are excused for getting married (or being auctioned off, to put it appropriately) to 60-year old Oga Monday at 14. That you might develop Vesicovaginal fistula (VVF) or other life-altering diseases is just the added incendiary to the marriage (auctioning).


6. Last of all, you need to be married before you get to 30 sister. By all means marry! The reason is simply because marriage is the be-all and end-all of your existence as a woman in our society. Marriage is the subsistence of your societal standing. Society has made it so. It doesn't matter that you've gone to school and learnt, learnt, learnt and acquired all the certificates in the world and you are now emitting book, book, book all about you. It would all end up in the house of something that parades himself as a man. It doesn't sound okay to us that you laboured to get a very good Phd. added to your name, without bearing 'Mrs'. You see, when you write your name as Dr. Prof. Miss Tope Williams, the 'Miss' doesn't fit at all. That you might have been a first-class student is of no consequence to us if you don't end up married. If you happen to be reading this private letter and you are a Nigerian lady getting close to 30 and not yet married, sister, the witches and wizards in your village are seriously at work. Its time to visit that prayer house, native doctor or white-garment church. Let your prayer point all through be, “God, give me my own husband this year.” And if the lascivious prophet suggests that you personally come for a personal deliverance by 11pm in his bedroom or a spiritual bath at the nearby stream by 12 midnight, don't worry sister. Its all for the good of getting married. It doesn't matter that he gets a first-hand taste of what you are preserving for your future husband. After all, the thing has no meter. So just marry. Marry anything at all that happens to label himself a man even though he might not have the slightest inkling of what manhood is about.

The greatest barometer, as far as our society is concerned, is whether at the end of all your endeavours as a woman, you have a husband to 'gloriously' crown your efforts. Therefore, if on the voyage called life and on the path to greatness, you perchance forgot to marry along the line before you clock 30, you should be gravely sad and depressed for life should not be worth living in your case. Feel all the 'goodness' that society has thrown your way as a woman and embrace them with an open mind. Well, I think that's about it for now. Until then, thank you for your understanding.


Yours Solemnly,
Arikor Collins Ogonnaya,
@CollinsOgo.

DRIVING WITH CRAZY- The Finale.

Foreword.

       This is the last episode of the series Driving With Crazy. It’s been an honor taking this journey with Aisha and Alex and everyone who has taken out time to read any of the episodes. It means a lot. I hope we’ll reunite in the next post or story. Now to the good stuff….

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS….. (The Finale.)

To see all episodes, go here

     After driving like a crazy person down the express way and receiving insults from other motorists for flying down the road like a bat out of hell; I got to Nena's house. Kehinde's directions had been surprisingly easy to follow. I knew the way the house from the town market, so at least I wasn't too bad with directions. As I got out of the car with the box of Nena's shoes in one hand I was tempted to lie flat and kiss the ground! I had never been so happy to see the cream walls of Nena's family house. The devil's plan to keep me from this wedding did not work! I went around to the boot of the car and got Alex's luggage. It would be easier for him to get it from my room when he got back from the hospital.

   "You mean if..."  The pessimist in my head hissed.

    I pulled the box and struggled with the shoes and bag in my other hand as I walked into the house, expecting a battalion of people to accost me asking why I was just arriving. The first person I saw was Nena's mum who saw me just as I was about to climb the stairs. Now, Nena's mum was a "hugging screamer". The extreme type. Whenever she saw someone she liked and wanted to hug, she would start to scream her excitement. Impressive vocal chords, one of the many things Nena inherited from her mother.  

"Aisha! Is this you? Where have you been?! I've been asking Nena about you! She wanted to go mad yesterday when she thought something had happened to you. We've been expecting you, my dear!" At this point, I was still trapped in her extremely tight embrace.

“Aunty, it's good to see you. We had issues along the way. I hope she's fine now." I said making what I hoped she recognized as a conscious effort to free myself.

" Yesso. Taye's brother... Err Kehinde called to say you were close by."

"Oh ok. Let me go and see her. Is she in her room? "

“She’s dressing up in my room. Let me take your things to her room. Both of you were supposed to stay there." I handed her Alex's luggage and my handbag and took the shoes with me to see Nena.

   I pulled myself up the stairs, yawning all the way. There were so many people upstairs; most of the girls in the bridal train and a few of  Nena's aunts were standing outside Nena's mum's room. I figured she had prevented them from seeing her until she presented herself. They all had their beautiful champagne brown coloured dresses on with faces beat to perfection. As soon as they saw me, the noise erupted.

"Aisha! "

“You’re here! Nena has been waiting...."

“Oh my God! Aisha!” All these noisy girls sef. It wasn't like I had died and come back to life. Why were they screaming anyhow?

"Aisha, go in. I'm sure Nena would let you see her. No one else is allowed to go in so we're waiting for the bride to make her grand entrance abi exit. " Ify  said rolling her eyes. I remembered how Nena had told me Ify literally didn't let her sleep until she told her she could be part of her bridal train. The girl just had something about her that made me want to charge at her whenever I saw her but today was not her day. I made my way to the door and opened it and I sauntered in.

    "Didn't I say no one should enter this room!!?” Nena shouted with her back to me.

    “Calm down, Bridezilla.”

 She turned sharply on hearing my voice and almost at the same time I caught a glimpse of her wedding dress in all it's glory. I had seen Nena wearing this dress before, I was with her when she bought it and we had chosen it as the best out of the three she had liked initially but there was something about it today. Maybe it was her hair as the curls fell softly down her nape or her face that seemed like it had been moulded with the finest of clays. Whatever it was, it made her look perfect. Really perfect. I was too stunned to speak for a few moments. She noticed that I was staring and waited for a comment. When one didn't come immediately, she got impatient and said "Talk now!" 

"Nenadi, you look stunning!" I said still trying to take it all in.

"Really? Are you sure the hair doesn't make my head look funny? "

“Oh shut up Nena. You look perfect. Well, almost perfect.” I said trying my best to hold off the waterworks and bring out the shoes at the same time.   

“Curse my over active tear glands.”

The same shoes that had made me feel like I was spending a holiday in the valley of the shadow of death. I went on one knee and put both shoes on her feet. The fight with the tears became even more brutal after that.

" Aisha, don't even start! If you cry, I'll cry! “   She said while fighting to keep hers in as well. Nature won in the end, much to the despair of Joe, the make-up artist who kept on scolding us for making him redo 'his masterpiece'. After seeing Nena looking so stunning and the way her eyes lit up when she told me she had been so worried and how much calmer she was now that I was here; I knew the hell I had been through to get there was worth it. According to Olaf, some people were worth melting for. At that point, I felt like I had been panel beaten a couple of times. That had to fall into the same category as melting. Right?

                                                                      ***

       Much later at the wedding reception, after I had bawled my eyes out as I watched Nena's dad give her away and watched her become one with the man who had loved her so hard for so long; I stood with my glass of wine in hand giggling as I watched Nena and Taye have their first dance. The look of contentment on her face was priceless. After all the petty quarrels they had employed me to settle in the past, they had actually made it down the aisle. I remembered how Taye had begged me day and night to convince Aisha to go on a date with him. I milked him dry before I even thought to tell Nena there was a guy who wanted to take her out. I giggled as I remembered my evil exploits. I knew Taye would take care of her. I had drilled him back when I noticed their relationship was becoming serious and laid down some serious ground rules. When I was done, he learned that there would be very serious physical and maybe even spiritual consequences if there was ever any tomfoolery on his part. Yes, I was that friend. But Nena never had to do any of that, I always laid down the rules by myself in my relationships and none lasted as long as Taye and Nena’s.

    As I watched them look into each other's eyes, I was reminded of how much I wanted someone who would just get me and be happy with me. I wasn't girly like Nena or desperate for affection or any of that but I just wanted someone who was always on my team.

    "You have Alex, you know."  

I had felt some kind of chemistry with Alex during  the trip or maybe it was all the near-fatal experiences making me confused. But even then I had caught myself a number of times looking all over and worrying about him all day. Alex and I would make an interesting pair. With his charms and good looks and eccentricities and my -

"Hey, road buddy. " I jumped out of my reverie and turned to see him looking incredibly handsome in his dark suit behind me.

“Hey you. Don't creep up behind me like that again abeg. "

“If you weren't so lost in thought, you would probably have noticed. "

“There isn't a halo around you though. There's no way I would have noticed. “I said teasing him.

“You have to argue though.” He took a step to stand beside me as he joined me to watch Nena and Taye as they swayed in and out of tune to the music. “Taye and his lack of dance steps. I guess some things never change. "

" Ahan. Michael Jackson! You that knows how to throw down!"  Throwing my head back as I laughed.

 Then he stopped and cocked his head to the side feigning surprise." Aisha, but you should know now. You don't remember how all those senior girls used to queue to dance with me? "

“Queue? Only Senior Ola used to die for you, only God knows why! "

“That’s not how I remember it oh. And which one is only God knows why? Oh, good. Everyone is going to dance. Come and experience what kept Ola coming back for more." I laughed as I let him pull me to the dance floor.

   We danced and laughed as we watched other people dance and laughed some more as we watched each other dance. This was the cycle until it was time for the slow dance. He held me daintily with his arm against the small of my back as we moved back and forth to the rhythm. The feel of his body against mine had me feeling tingly all over.

"How is your arm?” I said with my head resting on his chest.

“Oh, the doctor said it was fine. I woke up just as soon as we pulled into the hospital. We might need to go back for that hunter's sedative though. Best sleep I've had in a while. " He said chuckling lightly

“You better be joking. I thought you were dead at a point. Three straight hours of sleep! "

He chuckled. “Were you scared? "

“More like relieved"  I teased. "Your meat would have been perfect to help my gastric situation."  We both laughed as we kept on reminiscing what had to be the worst road trip in the history of road trips. The music, his speaking directly into my ears, his scent;  they were all conspiring to fan the flames of my growing attraction.

"Don't worry, we'll get back at them soon enough. "

“We?”  I said lifting my head to look straight at him.

“Yes, Aisha... We. "

                                                                      ***

The phone rang and Taye picked it up and saw my name across the screen.

 “Baby! ....... Nena! Aisha is on the phone for you."

" Ohh , I'll be right there. I just put Tobi down to sleep in the living room. "

“Yeah, I'll be quiet.” Taye said handing over the phone to her.

" Aisha! My sweetheart. How are you? "

" Iya Tobi! I'm fine. Why did it take you so long to come to the phone? "

“Someone has to put your god-daughter to sleep while you're touring the globe. Don't you know?"   Her words laced with sarcasm. I giggled on my end.

“How is she doing? I've missed her oh." 

“She’s fine. Still looks like me. Hehe. So wait, you haven’t missed me? That boy is teaching you bad things oh.”

"Don't be jealous. You know I miss you almost as much as you miss me." I said as I laughed

“How is your trip with the boo going jor? "

“It’s been lovely. That's actually why I called. "

“What happened?” I could sense the concern in her voice now.

“Well, nothing really oh. Just that one of the fingers on my left hand now has a new dress code. " You could literally ‘hear the smile’ that was plastered on my face as I said that.

“Huh? I don't understand...... Wait! Aisha! Did Alex propose??"  She said as the volume of her voice increased with every word.

" Yess!! It took you long enough! "  I had to take the phone away from my ears so I wasn't deafened by her screams. Alex was grinning and blushing at the same time on the bed beside me as Nena screamed the news to Taye. I could hear her even with the phone away from my ear.

“Taye!  ….Taye!! …..Taye come!!!   Alex proposed!!!”

 She ended up waking Tobi on her own.

                                                                 THE END.

ACCIDENT

Just one careless action, a reckless thought, or a negligent mistake can change the entire lifestyle of a whole family or community. Just one simple mistake made in haste is capable of defining doom for some particular set of persons. It is quite painful that some set of persons do lack the capacity to rationalize on the consequences of their actions before embarking on such.

Many may claim that everything which happens on this earth has been predestined (by God). Hence, we seek to attribute our misfortunes to be beyond our control, when in reality we are the masters of our own fortunes. Let us just for once assume that every single (unfortunate) incident is the will of the Almighty, does this mean that God in his infinite mercy will allow calamities to befall his faithful servants? Indeed, there are some questions which we as human beings have no locus standi to ask, and this is one of such.

However, as the proponents of Freewill have postulated in the past, this writer inclusive, we are solely in control of our wits. We are the masters of our actions and as such should be made to face full responsibility for whatever ill our actions and inactions might cause. It would amount to injustice if we are permitted to hide behind the cloak of predestination as a defence for our mistakes. Of course, God is aware of our actions, and he can in several ways influence how we act. But in the crucial minutes which lead to our actions, we are solely in control and responsible for whatever thoughts that make us act as such. For instance, a person who drinks heavily before embarking on a journey cannot and should not be allowed to postulate that for whatever reason, God in his infinite knowledge has already predestined the ensuing accident to occur.

It is therefore extremely painful to hear about certain accidents which arise as a result of the culpable negligence of some certain overzealous individuals who believe that their every action is ordained by some deity of some sort. Indeed, the Law imposes upon every person a duty to exercise due care in his everyday dealings with his neighbour. It is therefore inconsistent with this duty of care imposed on us to have a supplementary misconception that our actions are anointed and ordained by God. Divine anointing cannot cloak one’s eyes to the extent that he would be unable to perceive an oncoming vehicle whilst driving at night.

There are two major causes of accidents in Nigeria: negligence and recklessness. There is a thin line separating the two concepts. As earlier postulated, the Law imposes a duty on every man to exercise a reasonable amount of care in his every day dealings. This duty of care is one which has been scripturally and spiritually noticed when Jesus Christ mandated us to love our neighbours as we love ourselves. Without an observance to this duty of care, our society would degenerate into a Hobessian state where life would be invariably brutish, nasty, and succinctly short. A rigid observance to this said duty would no doubt reduce the spate of crime and civil mishaps we experience in contemporaneous society.

A slight deviation from this mandatory duty is what gives rise to negligence. When we fail to act up to the standard which both the Law and God expects from us. A failure to act, however innocent our intentions might be could be very disastrous to the lives of others. For instance, a failure to place warning lights at appropriate quarters, failure to observe simple traffic regulations, etc are examples of negligent acts which could lead to accident.

Recklessness on the other hand, is when a person in a fit of euphoria, or under the influence of some stimulating substances, be it spiritual or intoxicating, self-induced or administered by coercion, real or illusory; refuses to take certain steps, or takes certain steps which a reasonable right thinking man of the same intellectual level would ordinarily not do.  For one to know as a fact that a certain course of action would result in harm being done to another person or his property, yet he still goes ahead to indulge in such action. For instance, when a driver knows that whilst driving against the traffic, he is probable to crash into an oncoming vehicle, or when he knows that he is exceeding the speed limit, or driving against the traffic light. In circumstances of recklessness, the reckless actor need not have an evil intention. In fact, he may be acting in good faith, but no amount of such good faith can justify the unnecessary loss of human life or property.

There is no reason why a family should lose their breadwinner or dearly beloved child to some reckless maniac operating under a self-induced illusion.

It is high time people began to respect the lives of others and hold such in high esteem. Even if one has an innate wish to take his life yonder beyond on a journey, he should at least take care to ensure that he takes only his own life.

Should Students Be Allowed To Grade thier Lecturers?

Although it might sound cliché, it is common knowledge that students are the wealth of any nation, the future of tomorrow and consequentially their education is the social responsibility of the country. To be educated is not just a right but also a duty. However, in the midst of dilapidated structures, an ancient academic system and a country literally begging for salvation, a simple education is simply not good enough, it just has to get better.      

Over the course of the past decades, several solutions have been brought to the table. In Nigeria, the strategy has been for school officials to frequently evaluate the performance of lecturers in their various institutions. The hope was that through a combination of feedback and pressure, the lecturers would improve or be replaced by someone better. While this has yielded a few positives, it has also been largely unsatisfying and this has ushered in the question of whether students should grade their lecturers or not. In order to reach a decision, it is wise to discuss the benefits of allowing students grade their lecturers as well as the dangers of implementing this policy.

As unorthodox as it sounds, allowing students grade their lecturers could be that extra push needed to transcend Nigeria's academic system. While it is quite apparent that the students are the target audience of the lecturers, letting the students assess the lecturers gives the lecturers an insight of their minds, it shows these lecturers how much they have performed, how far they have being able to go and whether the learning environment has been conducive enough for learning. Also while this method appreciates and motivates lecturers that are largely hardworking and dedicated, it conversely exposes those who have not being doing well enough and by the basis of this method which seeks out not to condemn but to correct, it will make the lecturers adjust their teaching methods in other to ensure that the students who is their main priority are always in tune with their ideology. Lastly, it is trite that for every relationship to succeed there must be communication. Allowing students assess their lecturers bring them a lot closer to them and that makes the whole teaching process a lot more pleasurable. For example the students may not be particularly comfortable with a certain attitude of their lecturer and may not have any avenue to let that known, however with grading assessment in place the students can pass this across to the lecturers and that could be the starting point of positive changes in schools.

However, allowing students grade their lecturers has its many downsides. First of all, there is a tendency for students to misuse this ‘power’ for their personal interests since they do not have the needed mentality to carry out an assessment without being bias towards lecturers. It is common knowledge that most students prefer lecturers who are lenient with them, hardly bothers them with assignment and are jovial with grade points. The students tend to see strict lecturers as people whose life mission is to frustrate them. If these students are now required to grade these two classes of lecturers, it is obvious that the first class will be portrayed in a more positive light. The students also stand a chance of being a victim too. There is a possibility of lecturers punishing students for giving them bad grades and this could be set in strife between lecturers and students.

While this topic has been a subject of debate for such a long time, there has not seemed to be a consensus. While I feel that students should be given the chance to grade their lecturers, I am also of the opinion that this should done under intense supervision. Also there should be set and transparent parameters for grading such as punctuality, ability to exert discipline, how he uses his time etc. I also believe should be done in collaboration with the school authorities and other stakeholders in the educational system. Change is deliberate and as such a conscious effort should be made if we want to see the change we so dearly crave for manifested in our schools.

                         What do you think? should students be given the option of grading their lecturers? send in your comments and don't forget to share...

ETHNIC DIVERSITY IN NIGERIA-A BLESSING OR A CURSE

The ethnicity of Nigeria is so varied that there is no universal definition of a Nigerian beyond that of someone who lives within the borders of the country, Nigeria. It is no gain saying that the boundary of this former English colony was drawn to serve commercial interests, largely without regard for the territorial claims of the indigenous people. As a result, about three hundred ethnic groups comprise the population of Nigeria, and the country's unity has been consistently under siege: eight attempts at secession threatened national unity between 1914 and 1977. The epic ‘Biafra war’ was the last of the secessionist movements within this period.

  The concept of ethnicity can be viewed as "a group of people having a common language and cultural values". These common factors are emphasized by frequent interaction between the people in the group. In Nigeria, the ethnic groups are occasionally fusions created by intermarriage, intermingling and/or assimilation. In such fusions, the groups of which they are composed maintain a limited individual identity. The groups are thus composed of smaller groups, but there is as much difference between even the small groups.

  

 Although the ethnic groups in Nigeria, number in hundreds, it must be understood, though, that there exists three major ethnic groups, these include the Hausas, the Ibos and the Yoruba. A question remains unanswered, as to whether ‘the ethnic diversity in Nigeria could ever be a force for positivity in the country’. These three groups comprise only fifty-seven percent of the population of Nigeria. The remainder of the people are members of the ethnic minority groups, which include such peoples as the Kanuri, the Nupe, and the Tiv in the north, the Efik/Ibibio, the Ijaw, and the Ekoi in the east, and the Edo and Urhobo/Isoko to the west, along with hundreds of other groups that differ widely in language, culture and even physique. As the population of Nigeria has doubled to over seventy-eight million people in 1982 from approximately thirty-one million in 1953, it is safe to assume that these groups are now much larger.

 Well, in times past the country has suffered a heavy and long halt, preventing her from making giant strides as a rich black nation ought to, a big thank you to the anchor called ethnicity. Every ethnic group wants to be recognized, as such, the scramble for power has plunged the country in to coups, civil wars and more recently,  could be argued to have contributed to the event of insurgency. Nigeria party politics has been polluted by ethnic chauvinism. This problem is one of the major qualms confronting the progress of liberal democracy in Nigeria since 1960, to the extent that ethnic sentiment has gradually crept in, to find a place in every façade of Nigerian political activity. Ethnic sentiment has been one of the factors responsible for most of the inefficiencies and low productivity in Nigeria.

  

However, it must be established that Nigeria has been envied for its culture richness, its variety in cuisine and dish, her people’s colorful apparel alongside their tasty traditions, dance, primitive societal structure, religion, just to mention a micro few. The potentiality in the diversity of a nation has been expressed successfully by many foreign states for example; the United States has always been an immigrant culture. Aside from Native Americans, the entire population has immigrant origins. The traditional view toward immigrants was that they would wish to assimilate to the dominant Anglo-Saxon population of the nation's earliest colonial settlers. The assimilation process, according to the traditional view, however, was never expected to be total. Each group would add a distinguishing contribution to the overall national culture so that in time the myriad immigrant groups would alter the cultural norms of the rest of the nation in subtle ways. This philosophy was called the "American melting pot”.  In truth the beauty of ethnicity when managed properly is a glorious wonder as it only enhances richness and color of a modern state, unfortunately it could beckon on the essence of ARES (so to speak), affirmatively, it is a fact that civil wars causing myriads of deaths are printer effects of ethnic diversity amongst other things. Yet, we all agree that variety is the spice of life.

    At this junction, what’s your take on the phenomena of ethnic diversity? In your country, Is it a blessing, is it curse or is it both?
 

   

DRIVING WITH CRAZY Episode 7

                              HEAVEN TO THE RESCUE.                                             

 *For previous episodes, go here         

       I drove in the company of the GPS. She, as Alex liked to describe it, wasn't much help at keeping me entertained or awake. We were too far from any city to get radio signals and so I was stuck with the rap songs Alex had in his car. Even with the songs blaring from the Speakers Alex didn't move from his slumber. Whatever sedative that hunter had given him would probably have given anaesthesia a run for it’s money. I had slapped him across the face enough times to leave the area slightly reddish hoping he would wake up but he would only turn and continue sleeping. At a point, I began to envy him. The things I would have done to have a good, soft bed to crash on right then. He had stopped bleeding, at least the hunter had done one thing right by applying some pressure to the injury to stop the bleeding but I still felt he should have it checked out. The bullet might have been laced with something. Poison? Maybe that was what was making him sleep so long? Or maybe it would make him hallucinate and start to act out his hallucinations! I had to take a deep breath to stop my mind from overreacting. Hopefully, he was just enjoying what had become an over two hour nap under the influence of a sedative. That was normal. Right?

  

                                                              ***

   I had been driving for almost three hours with my mind constantly reminding me that i could be going in the driving myself to Jos without knowing it. My mum always chided me for not knowing how to drive myself to Kaduna or the cities that led to it. I would always tell her that if I ever needed to drive, I would get a driver and so I never learned the route. See why you should listen to your parents! The GPS had gotten me this far; hopefully it would take me the rest of the way. It was nearing 9am. The sun looking nice and bright, perfect weather for a wedding. It was my best friend’s wedding day. The day we’d dreamed about since we recognized the importance of boys. Nena must have tried my number at least a thousand times by now. I tried to find comfort in the fact that it could have been a lot worse. I could have been married off to some old chief by now or be stranded because I couldn't drive and Alex was sleeping like he was half dead. So in comparison, I was having a good day.

    I took my eyes off the road long enough to see that according to the GPS, we were about an hour and some minutes  away from Kaduna. A smile slowly tattooed itself across my face when I saw that. If that was anything to go by,  I would make it in time for the wedding and the last forty-eight hours of horror would not be in vain. While turning to look at the side mirror two things caught my attention. Firstly, the blinding stench that was emanating from my armpit! I smelled like fish and coffee mixed together. After not taking a bath for almost two days and running and sweating ever so often, I suppose it was to be expected. The terrible smell coming from my body almost made me forget the second thing I had noticed while looking at the side mirror. A car seemed to have been following me for a while. I was on an express-way, wide enough for a person to overtake if they felt it necessary and a few cars had zoomed past so it was puzzling that this white car had been a few metres behind me for almost thirty minutes. I had noticed it earlier but thought nothing of it till I looked out again and saw the same car. I could tell it was a man driving but I was too far to recognize the features. I tried to convince myself that it was paranoia and hunger making me over-assess the situation. I put my foot to the gas pedal and sped on ahead thinking i would probably lose after the bend that was up ahead; but still he followed me. Why would someone be following me in the middle of nowhere unless they knew me or wanted to rob me. I looked around the car, there was nothing to steal. Pastor had made sure to take care of that as I was naïve enough to let him. So what did this guy want?

     My heart started to beat very fast again as I thought of what to do. I looked at Alex, looking oh-so-peaceful in his sleep that was nearing three hours now. Still looking at the road, I went at his face with a slap. Thwack! “Alex, will you wake up already! Haba! Someone is following us!” There was no stir, no sound; he just continued with his soft snores. It looked like I would have to face this one alone. Wasn't I just saying some minutes ago that I was having a good day?

       I thought about speeding until I got to Kaduna, it was just about fifty  minutes away at that point but then it occurred to me that this could also be someone going for the wedding that recognized Alex’s car and was trying to get my attention. But then, I had been making all kinds of wrong choices throughout this journey and I was too hungry to endure another situation arising before getting to that wedding. But I also had to consider Alex’s arm; I needed to get him to the hospital before getting to the wedding and I didn’t even know the way to any hospitals in the city. The only gadgets I knew how to handle were my phone and laptop so configuring this GPS to direct me to a hospital was not an option; but if I knew this person, they could probably help me take Alex to the hospital while I hustled my way to Nena. All these options and things to consider just to make the decision to either speed up or park the car. I said a silent prayer as I slowed the car to a stop by the side of the road.

    As was expected, the person in the car caught up to me and parked his car in front of mine. He got out of the car revealing his almost six feet figure with muscles bulging from his tight T-shirt. As he stood locking the door, I peered through the windscreen to see if I could recognize him. He looked like…..Taye? What was Taye doing here? But when did Taye get so muscular? And he couldn't possibly be on the road when his wedding was in about an hour. It was then he turned towards me and I noticed the birthmark just about his right eyebrow. I heaved a huge sigh of relief . Kehinde!

                                                          ***

“Aishatu!" No one else felt the need to call out my full name but Kehinde. "Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get your attention. I expected to see Alex driving though.” He said locking me in a huge embrace. For once, I had made the right call.

“Kehinde, you can’t begin to understand how happy I am to see you. I thought you were  Taye for a second there.”

“It’s good to see you too. You look exhausted Aisha and where is Alex? Taye told me the both of you were coming together. It sounded like a recipe for disaster. I hope you haven’t dumped my friend’s body somewhere oh.” He said chuckling.

“Not yet oh. Look at him sleeping in there.” I said tilting my head in the direction of the passenger’s seat. Kehinde went around and tried to wake him up. Alex didn’t budge.

“What’s wrong with him? Which kind sleep be dis?”

“Long story oh. You wouldn’t believe if I told you. Your brother and sister-in-law have put me through what has to be the craziest journey of my life, but don’t worry he’s alive. He’s injured though. I actually stopped hoping it was someone I knew so they could take him to the hospital for me.”

It was then he noticed the blood on his shirt. Clearly alarmed he asked “ Ahah, Aisha what happened to him?” Then I proceeded to recount the happenings of  the entire journey and all it’s craziness to him. I had not realized how good a story it was until I retold it to him. By the time I was done he was so shocked all he could do was laugh.

“And all that happened between yesterday and today? After all that, the both of you have to get married and make Aisha and Taye do this for your own wedding.” I laughed like I hadn’t been secretly imagining the same outcome while driving.

“You don’t even know. I’m waiting to find out which is a longer journey by road- Lagos to Ghana or Lagos to Kaduna. If Lagos to Kaduna is longer, I’ll find another place. They must experience the ‘thrills’ of a road trip.” I said as we both burst into laughter.

   Finally, we agreed that Kehinde would take Alex to the hospital while I made my way to the wedding. We carried Alex into Kehinde’s car and laid him in the back to continue sleeping. Now it was 10:03 and I had forty-five minutes to get home to resume my chief-bridesmaid duties. I knew Nena wouldn’t let anyone else take my place until I got there but I didn’t want my lateness spoiling her big day. I got the exact directions to the house from Kehinde. We agreed that he would drop Alex off at the hospital and make sure he would be well taken care of before he ran off to assume his role as the best man.  As I bid him goodbye, I was careful enough to go for a handshake instead of a hug. There was no need to pass the ‘fish+coffee stench’ around. I got back into the car determined to make the journey of approximately one hour it should take to get to the house in forty-five minutes so I would have some time to get ready. I pulled on the seatbelt, adjusted my seat as I prepared to go all ‘formula one’ on the rest of the journey.