I'm not a pastor neither am I a lord bishop. But it doesn't take white colar, the crucifix and other paraphenela of a 'man of God' to remember the scriptures, especially the part where Jesus was asking his disciples whether faith will still be on earth when he returns. Jumping into an hasty yes conclusion is quite understandable, but considering Nigeria's similar status, we've got to re-think.
After almost 100 days of a 'vacant presidency', the rank and file of the nation seem to be, for once in recent times, cohesive- we all want lucky Goodluck as acting president. All seem to be heading that way except a last minute surprise spearheaded by Nigeria's 'devil's advocate' Micheal Andoakaa.
With other members of the so called kitchen cabinet, he bought his boss some time to recuperate and get back on the Nigerian horse, all to no avail, teaching us all the lesson that there is no amount of manipulation or hand twisting that can come against a plan of God for Nigeria. But how will Umaru Yar'adua feel, or react on return from the Holy land?
In the first instance, nobody knows his stand- whether he was the one giving the sit tight orders or his loyal loyalists. His reactions will certainly define his preference between being loyal and doing what is right.
Yar'adua's cabinet, when he returns, will be revamped or as popularly said, reshuffled as the disloyal cabinet members might be shown the way out, grossly incapacited or clamped down with accusations of corruption and misappropriation. But there is one fact for Yar'adua, his wife and boys to remember- Nigerians and the world will be watching with keen interest.
For Jonathan, there won't be much price to pay as he played his cards right. However, problem, I suppose, will arise if his presidency outshines Umaru's.
It is however worthy to note that Nigerians asked for Jonathan not because we want or like his face and political destiny, but it is what our law states. And Mr. President should understand, respect and applaud that.
Nigeria is bigger in size and relevance than any individual hence collective well being should be paramount and upheld in place of self perpetuation in national office. For Jonathan, this is the moment of his life.
Luck and patience had finally given him the opportunity to serve the nation in its highest capacity as the president- acting or not. It is therefore worthy to let go of luck and patience (not Patience, his wife) as Nigerians are not ready to stake their lives and destinies on the duo that seem to be his theme.
Nigeria is eclipsed in several embarassing circumstances that warrant the active actions of an alert president, not a sick or patient one. He's got to step into action at the go!
He needs to quench the rising fire in the Niger Delta, tame the gladiators of the Sokoto caliphate who seem to have had the nation tightly secured in their glamorous eye popping turbans. Jonathan also have a duty to southern Nigeria.
Living in the south, I've come to understand that southerners believe the rest of the country cannot entrust them, just for one day, with the presidency. With this unifying action, the entire nation is saying yes we can! It's all in Goodluck's hands to stir the wheel and decide what future perception should be.
This is not the time for him to relax, thinking all will straighten out while he wears his signatory hat and smokes a well matching Cuban cigar while attending his numerous social functions. If he does, then the nation is doomed.
Nigerians are waiting, the world watching and the clock is ticking for Jonathan because like a thief-in-the-night, his master shall return to regain his mandate.
How we will remember Jonathan and indeed southern politicians rest in his hands. But for Yar'adua, there is the need to fully recuperate and be energized enough to answer the million and one questions that we've stockpiled until the time when he returns; starting with is it just pericarditis, or something else?
Like most Anambarians, non Anambra indigenes and residents, I spent most part of last weekend following the reports of polls via the internet. As usual, anticipated and highly expected, there were several skemishes. Despite all these, a new lesson was learnt on why our electoral system and programme are perenially problematic. It is the complacency of the voters.
Last Saturday was the day when gladiators of Abuja and Anambra politics outwitted and outsmarted one another in what seemed like a do-or-die affair. Names like Prince Arthur Eze were copiously reverberating across most news reports as a result of his notoriety at what Nigerian 'politicians' are good at- rigging.
I'm not surprised that the PDP stalwarts deployed every artillery in their arsenal of weapons to rally around the founder of Soludoeconomics, neither was I disappointed that INEC's voters' registers bore names of late eminent Nigerians like Fela and Bola Ige, it has become Prof. Iwu's way of paying glowing tributes to the late sages, and INEC's role at ensuring that ballot papers of those who were disenfranchised of their fundamental human right were thumb printed for the candidate of their choice. Believe me, there is a comprehensive and all- encompassing voters' register, you can only see it on days apart from the day of election. It's part of the fault proof plan!
What is however disheartening is the complacency of Anambarians who were intimidated either by the big grammar and charts of Soludo et al, or by the blood shot red eyes of political thugs. One after another, we heard stories of how hoodlums disrupted electoral processes, carting or snatching away ballot boxes to be snuffed with thumb printed ballot papers of those whose names weren't on the voters' list, while the eligible voters looked on.
In times past, I thought only we the Yorubas feared trouble, compelling us to stay at peace when things are breaking into pieces, Anambarians had shown that the siddon look attitude is not an exclusively Yoruba affair, but a national phenomenon that has permeated all ethnic groups. United in fear, it seems, we stand!
This makes me wonder why are Nigerians afraid to defend their votes, standing arms akimbo or running helter sketter when they ought to stand against the insignant fraction that wants to jeopardize the collective destiny of all?
Is it the weapons that are brandished by the disgruntled elements, or their blood shot eyes? Is it the deep baritone voice or Yokosuna thick biceps muscles? Or is it our inate tendency to flee at any sign of trouble knowing that there is nobody to watch your back? Many questions.
Going by the Anambra elections, it becomes evident that a million and one Wole Shoyinka, 'Tunde Bakare and the likes cannot empower the voters, voters must empower themselves!
To ensure good attitude at Nigerian polls, everyone should be able to defend themselves with sticks, stones, matchets, daggers, licensed guns and juju armlets. It's time to learn from Americans.
One of the reasons why America will continually have free and fair elections is not the technology or democracy, it is the civil right of citizens to carry guns. Imagine having 20 voters legally armed with guns, no amount of money and talk can convince thugs to snatch boxes knowing that anybody can take an aim.
In whatever form, Nigerians should rise up to defend their votes and not be intimidated by those working for people intending to serve the state. This is the mistake made by Anambarians in Saturday's elections which has helped us to better understand the problem with our democracy- Nigerians seem to be weak!
Martin Luther King Jnr led hundreds of thousands on major streets campaigning for racial equality. If he had feared gunshots like Nigerians do, he wouldn't have led the campaign. American blacks wouldn't have been liberated, and who is Barack Obama to even think of being a black president in the White House talk less of blacklisting Nigeria?
It is time we redefined our democracy as the government of the people, by the people, for the people, and defended by the people. Until then, qualitative leadership will continue to elude us as we will be entrapped in our usual familiar vicious cycle; just like Anambarians, for the next four years.
How do I explain a 5- year journey becoming elongated to 8 years, yet the traveller has no reason to regret? 'It doesn't make sense', that is what most people say. But for me, there is another side to the story.
Across the world, it is the dream, wish and prayers of every aspiring student to start a programme and end when expected. But in a number of times, such wishes are left as wish due to a number of factors.
A student's ability to comprehend all that is required may be in doubt, there may be unforeseen circumstances like strikes by the numerous unions, an occurence that has become deeply rooted in the academic calenders of most Nigerian government- owned public universities. For me however, the story is different, I'm a transferred student.
'Transferred students' are those that started their program somewhere and were taken somewhere else to complete their program. I started mine at the prestigious first Nigerian teaching hospital, University College Hospital, Ibadan. But I'm graduating with Imo state university. The transfer came at a time when I was envisioning myself as a graduate. But looking back at the history, I'd be damned if I had graduated then.
It's not that I didn't receive the best training I could get at the UCH, it was just a good quota of my training wasn't given. This quota is the true life lessons of ideating, deciding, competing, and dissapointments. As far as I'm concerned, UCH was a fairy tale while Imo state university is the real deal!
Thanks to the 2 academic sessions spent in IMSU, I've been able to have the school pass through me. I've internalized a lot of things, discovered some personal truths, polished myself, refined my skills, packaged my talent, and more importantly, IMSU had made me realize the stupidity, idiosyncratic nature, and perdition- and frustration- prone nature of a life without Christ.
While in UCH, the fairy tale made me believe that it's more about me than God. But here where many things can go wrong, and there is little or nothing any morally upright stupendous student can do to remedy the situation, calling on God is certainly a good call that I've learnt how to make often than ever.
God has used the last years of my undergraduate education to open my eyes to the realities in the world, how to survive without getting detered, and how to choose the right set of people with whom you can tag along. I've also learn how to grow from an unsung underdog to a force to reckon with, both within and outside one's jurispudence. In addition, I've been able to understand people of different roots and I've realized that our needs are the same, means are equal, challenges are similar and our approach is the only thing that uniquely define, not defile, divide or defy us.
I've also met great new people, some of whom are great destiny helpers and partners, with the help of whom I've experienced through and excelled at true life (and death) experiences.
These and many more peculiar nature of staying in an Igboland will be further elucidated in my about-to-be-published book. It is my own way of helping non- Igbos survive and enjoy the land, and depict the onye Igbos in their true colour, not the popular assertions.
Before I came here, I was angry, annoyed, perturbed, frustrated and in dire need of a lifeline, which I got in Owerri. And as I begin to count my last days here, I question is constantly on my mind- how will my life be without The Owerri Experience? The answer is simple, my life will suck!
How do I explain a 5- year journey becoming elongated to 8 years, yet the traveller has no reason to regret? 'It doesn't make sense', that is what most people say. But for me, there is another side to the story.
Across the world, it is the dream, wish and prayers of every aspiring student to start a programme and end when expected. But in a number of times, such wishes are left as wish due to a number of factors.
A student's ability to comprehend all that is required may be in doubt, there may be unforeseen circumstances like strikes by the numerous unions, an occurence that has become deeply rooted in the academic calenders of most Nigerian government- owned public universities. For me however, the story is different, I'm a transferred student.
'Transferred students' are those that started their program somewhere and were taken somewhere else to complete their program. I started mine at the prestigious first Nigerian teaching hospital, University College Hospital, Ibadan. But I'm graduating with Imo state university. The transfer came at a time when I was envisioning myself as a graduate. But looking back at the history, I'd be damned if I had graduated then.
It's not that I didn't receive the best training I could get at the UCH, it was just a good quota of my training wasn't given. This quota is the true life lessons of ideating, deciding, competing, and dissapointments. As far as I'm concerned, UCH was a fairy tale while Imo state university is the real deal!
Thanks to the 2 academic sessions spent in IMSU, I've been able to have the school pass through me. I've internalized a lot of things, discovered some personal truths, polished myself, refined my skills, packaged my talent, and more importantly, IMSU had made me realize the stupidity, idiosyncratic nature, and perdition- and frustration- prone nature of a life without Christ.
While in UCH, the fairy tale made me believe that it's more about me than God. But here where many things can go wrong, and there is little or nothing any morally upright stupendous student can do to remedy the situation, calling on God is certainly a good call that I've learnt how to make often than ever.
God has used the last years of my undergraduate education to open my eyes to the realities in the world, how to survive without getting detered, and how to choose the right set of people with whom you can tag along. I've also learn how to grow from an unsung underdog to a force to reckon with, both within and outside one's jurispudence. In addition, I've been able to understand people of different roots and I've realized that our needs are the same, means are equal, challenges are similar and our approach is the only thing that uniquely define, not defile, divide or defy us.
I've also met great new people, some of whom are great destiny helpers and partners, with the help of whom I've experienced through and excelled at true life (and death) experiences.
These and many more peculiar nature of staying in an Igboland will be further elucidated in my about-to-be-published book. It is my own way of helping non- Igbos survive and enjoy the land, and depict the onye Igbos in their true colour, not the popular assertions.
Before I came here, I was angry, annoyed, perturbed, frustrated and in dire need of a lifeline, which I got in Owerri. And as I begin to count my last days here, I question is constantly on my mind- how will my life be without The Owerri Experience? The answer is simple, my life will suck!
How do I explain a 5- year journey becoming elongated to 8 years, yet the traveller has no reason to regret? 'It doesn't make sense', that is what most people say. But for me, there is another side to the story.
Across the world, it is the dream, wish and prayers of every aspiring student to start a programme and end when expected. But in a number of times, such wishes are left as wish due to a number of factors.
A student's ability to comprehend all that is required may be in doubt, there may be unforeseen circumstances like strikes by the numerous unions, an occurence that has become deeply rooted in the academic calenders of most Nigerian government- owned public universities. For me however, the story is different, I'm a transferred student.
'Transferred students' are those that started their program somewhere and were taken somewhere else to complete their program. I started mine at the prestigious first Nigerian teaching hospital, University College Hospital, Ibadan. But I'm graduating with Imo state university. The transfer came at a time when I was envisioning myself as a graduate. But looking back at the history, I'd be damned if I had graduated then.
It's not that I didn't receive the best training I could get at the UCH, it was just a good quota of my training wasn't given. This quota is the true life lessons of ideating, deciding, competing, and dissapointments. As far as I'm concerned, UCH was a fairy tale while Imo state university is the real deal!
Thanks to the 2 academic sessions spent in IMSU, I've been able to have the school pass through me. I've internalized a lot of things, discovered some personal truths, polished myself, refined my skills, packaged my talent, and more importantly, IMSU had made me realize the stupidity, idiosyncratic nature, and perdition- and frustration- prone nature of a life without Christ.
While in UCH, the fairy tale made me believe that it's more about me than God. But here where many things can go wrong, and there is little or nothing any morally upright stupendous student can do to remedy the situation, calling on God is certainly a good call that I've learnt how to make often than ever.
God has used the last years of my undergraduate education to open my eyes to the realities in the world, how to survive without getting detered, and how to choose the right set of people with whom you can tag along. I've also learn how to grow from an unsung underdog to a force to reckon with, both within and outside one's jurispudence. In addition, I've been able to understand people of different roots and I've realized that our needs are the same, means are equal, challenges are similar and our approach is the only thing that uniquely define, not defile, divide or defy us.
I've also met great new people, some of whom are great destiny helpers and partners, with the help of whom I've experienced through and excelled at true life (and death) experiences.
These and many more peculiar nature of staying in an Igboland will be further elucidated in my about-to-be-published book. It is my own way of helping non- Igbos survive and enjoy the land, and depict the onye Igbos in their true colour, not the popular assertions.
Before I came here, I was angry, annoyed, perturbed, frustrated and in dire need of a lifeline, which I got in Owerri. And as I begin to count my last days here, I question is constantly on my mind- how will my life be without The Owerri Experience? The answer is simple, my life will suck!
