Daddy smiled and coughed light,
Understanding my explained plight.
Men are lonely and they know,
Yet they conspire not to let show.
These women are assisted all through
By their very own sex, unlike you.
Firstly by mothers or sisters, then peers.
All thrust, show or coax their shares.
Ladies understand the bodies world well
As they grow so guided, you can tell.
The boy discovers on his very own.
And thus, what he finds is his fun.
The patience of man
Had over many ages
Given to his own land
Births of many images.
It has made gods
Of so many symbols;
Earthly made rods,
Also celestial balls.
In his long wait
His patience creates
Answers that relate
Only to his state.
The clouds of reason
Cover his horizons;
Make a sky season,
Or mystic masons.
Sight is so deceptive
That it can tilt a view,
Halo any perspective
With inspired preview.
Man looks around
And sees such beauty,
Beyond any he found
Or his own humanity.
In his natural urge
He pays respects to
Visions and courage,
Where honour isnt due.
In his all human way,
He puts faith in those
He comprehendsll stay;
Idolizing his very nose.
You are only young once,
Blossomed to take your chance;
To scent the worlds spring
With the fruit kinds you bring.
Sorry bro, if you haven’t guessed it yet,
and if you doubt it you’ll lose this bet.
There is an ongoing assault on your senses,
and it mainly targets your viewing lenses.
Ladies make sure you see their goods,
those curvy naughty goody foods.
They test your resolve to be normal,
teasing to resist their mean abnormal.
Found out amidst the threshing stones,
sort out of the cupboard of bones.
Where the situation was doctored
fell out that one not to be mastered.
Revenge consumes like any fire
and depends on sentimental air.
An action sought to set any aside
is vengeful if reason and sense coincide.
When anybody is singled out
the stone-casters dance about,
exposing ignorance and malice;
ironically with the drummers piece.
They always return like its shown,
Somehow better, on their very own.
When they were nothing, they knew.
And as they were begotten, they threw.
Just like such was predestined,
Man’s priorities shifts ascertained.
It was seen and again it will be,
Like again repeats all tides at sea.
They’ve always forgotten man feeds
Just like water kills and still it breeds.
The other day a lady teased me,
saying I’ve got huge man boobs.
Smiled and tried to make her see,
creation has one reoccurring oops.
Just like everything that is male,
My boobs are for my pleasure;
Not the upliftment of others’ tale,
For God’s a man in all His nature.
Earth has been all angry again,
Man did upset hers again;
Like he does again and again.
His efforts in controlling has been
Fixed as to betray his weakness seen;
She’s polite, not rash as harsh in between.
But you wonder how long for,
This sea-saw ride will further go?
Calmly, then hard ends a crescendo.
Spend me! You miserable clot,
So I can travel, visit and just be.
Have I not uplifted all your lot
With my coming and swelling sea?
Ha! See what is talking here;
Another creation grown astray.
Has making you collect near
Lost its purpose as any way?
I have existed so long before,
Making many, long before you.
Hadn’t my might sown more
Fright in you than you’ll rue?
My fear of you doesn’t keep,
That is why you I do amass.
How trivial your might heap
Just like any furniture was?
I taste the air men breathe,
Inhaled in its life and gasped.
Hasn’t the ease I could knit
Warm skeletons all trapped?
I don’t lodge or host guests
And don’t burden any to host.
Haven’t I seen your requests
Send errands until they’re lost?
I plunge in a lake all humble,
Help will come and does drown.
Had not man’s urge so trouble
His lust for his own crown?
Then I’ve unraveled your plot,
So with me you’re ever sunk.
I’ll keep man’s own twin clot.
After all, arent you precious junk?
First time I got those three words,
it was a parent checking on me.
Then it was a sibling’s own words,
demanding my attention and me.
Next on the train came a friend,
likewise demanding attention.
And this goes on without end,
because I’m in for an education.
As a stallion, my girl owned me,
every minute her calls are as true.
Mother didn’t as much call me.
Now my pet name is WHERE ARE YOU?
The spouse is the chosen partner;
either by craft, design or choice.
Becoming indeed a legal partner,
regardless of thought or noise.
No other legal relative is such,
not even the adopted children.
For they never share that much,
not in bodily or geno brethren.
Spouses come to a disadvantage,
one that timelessly edges it on.
Success makes it an advantage,
failure casts it good in rusty iron.
Spouse is a lengthy subscription,
one that needs constant renewal.
Spouse is one true legal relation,
in danger of instant withdrawal.
Every bit of knowledge is new,
at the instant it came into light.
The boldest fact as we all knew,
is time at hand is truest might.
The captain that has his crew,
has his craft in steady flight.
Time spent well is never few,
when it’s gains speaks right.
Truthfully none lives all alone,
But dead as alive all has none.
The words we are saying now, found us somewhere we know.
Our thoughts are always near, holding us captive right here.
Thank all the heavens for night time,
where will all mankind be without it?
Clarity praises all the days’ fine,
as all these many beautiful it lit.
Darkness had made procreation this bold,
aiding the naughtiness in all the shy.
Night makes ugliness the child of old;
daylight sculptures the beautiful sky.
Everything is chaos
that comes to a head.
Like life is not yours,
if it owns you instead.
The parent of logic
is simply knowledge.
What’s certainly tragic,
is all life is in bondage.
Time is a precious commodity,
one we cannot create but waste.
How we use every opportunity,
determines our enduring taste.
The fabric of every community,
makes up it’s content and state.
When a people lose their sanity,
old men rule like boys in haste.
For sure death of me cometh,
more like my very next breath.
It is edging closely towards me,
certain like it sees where I’ll be.
Boys’ll ever be boys!
Even if they’re older,
they like same toys;
only just get bolder!
Men get a lot older,
playing more bolder.
Craving similar toys,
make men still boys.
Living is a trip that keeps going.
Daily it comes, always it’s going.
It is peopled, hectic, never cozy;
Fares as pests all quite naughty,
Only it’s tiny stops are a bit rosy.
Picture from @xinorino
This isn’t the story of our wives;
With each and all we share life,
Parting and bridging as we leave.
Each and all of us is this thief.
We lead with all emotions canal,
Lustily wanting all just temporal.
For we only tell from the external;
Wishing, hoping it is so internal.
Rolled in next is the nature,
The feelings growing to mature.
We regard or discard a culture
To marry dreams, make a future.
The investments yield their sanity,
Our character tests its immunity.
The lucky are in blissful humility,
Off springing, living, fostering humanity.
Measurement elude even more less,
For all other lust is meaningless.
Finally, love rules all the featureless,
Together we die till eternity endless.
Life is a marathon, not a sprint,
one excelled with dedicate grit.
Commenced without good hint
of who can stand through or sit.
Place of the woman is spent;
through timely cratered vent.
She’s raging in her eruptions;
in her hair raising formations.
Still her place further reduces;
within every gain she chooses.
She’s the lesser man as before,
her sex ever breeds a new woe.
Picture from @msniffe
Hell will burn in a loving heart;
Abyss will once camp in there.
In pained loss looms one fact,
Life is war we will all lose here.
Picture from @Poem_Rumour
To avoid being quite sorry,
it’s always prudent to worry.
Not just for the tiny bit thing,
but to also laugh, cry or sing.
Good are also ugly and bad;
and can turn fair moods sad.
Most friends’re opportunistic,
indeed their needs are mystic.
Like thoughts form an opinion,
or tears weep to peeled onion,
desire gives dream their sights;
like clouds, time is once upon,
and grows aspirations’ heights.
Picture from @Nxdif
Indeed one lie feeds off another;
birthed as a circumstantial primary
and waltz to formidable secondary.
Like tiny bites follow one another,
simple lies reduce sources worth;
deminish their integrity to nought.
Common is the expression;
not quite the true situation.
Rare does the circumstance,
fit the damned consequence.
Whenever the setting changes;
timid viewers face challenges,
same fashion commentators
will become eating predators.
Skeletons still in the cupboard,
are still new, across the board.
Just a step into the near past,
reveals old habits always last.
Tombstones mark old cruelties;
hidden, mean, untold mysteries.
Looks are most deceptive tools, lying to the most gullible fools.
How the times have changed
and their days have managed
to turn our thrones into pulpits
our peaceful abodes into pits.
Mere words now make violence;
sacred scripture praise offence.
Social media taints knowledge,
as our youth mirror our tutelage.
Without these spoken words,
who can tell our mini worlds?
Without the delight of colours,
what’s this ruse sight conjures?
Without directions to guide us,
or passing time that bothers us,
who is certain where they are;
then, now, before ending here?
Is there any more perfect sight
than any day’s twinned twilight?
Then we are all identical twins;
worldwide, same human-beings.
Times have aged into a routine;
one weaned, not born by cooks.
Money now owns worship’s sin,
as many heros become crooks.
Todays’ are yesterdays’ whores,
all their victories liken abortions.
All gains reach emptied shores;
laurels are prismatic emotions.
Time never stops in its track;
It will grow, age, dry or fly off,
But never ceases, end or lack.
Each time rolls in its moments;
Strolling by in its miserly bluff,
Daring all to enjoy its torments.
Picture from @kc_clancy
We walk in steps, fits and starts,
Come and go like beatin’ hearts,
Pacing back, forth, yet onwards;
Winning battles, losing all wars.
Life drills all as an erring soldier,
Demands as needs never older,
For the future soldiers on bolder.
Trust is an egg, floating in the air,
Happy in delightful honest fair.
Safest feeling is only in the hand,
When it’s down to earth and land.
Picture from @MrsZanga
Life’s a long drawn out mystery,
one that we never ever fathom.
Our wishes become our misery; like dreams we don’t overcome.
We daily edge closer to nothing;
blindly holding onto naked cupid.
Our destiny is a very old setting,
until when bold becomes stupid.
Picture from @TheOnlyKemi
Can’t wait to be felt and noticed. Can’t wait to be seen and heard;
To be right here acknowledged.
When not if, a certain constant,
As I stand out in this moment.
For what is now is my current.
Picture from @oj_deji
Cubid is a terrible shot
And misses quite alot.
Maybe it’s those tiny wings
Or self righteous halo rings.
His cute aims for the heart
Always loses from the start
Because love is a mindset,
A selfish reaction to what’s felt.
Eyes make their own shows
Before the pierced head goes.
Their fruit crowned the whores,
Love is forever a game for bros.
Can we ever leave our homes,
Completely be someone else?
Can we change flesh as homes
From within, be of a new place?
True we leave our home nations
Physically, in identity or thought
But the nation stay in emotions
In sympathies, niceties and rot.
Happy Mothers’ Day, mothers
Mother comes along life’s miles,
Bringing time’s baggages along.
All her scars earn proud smiles,
As her priorities pile and age on
In days old and long gone by,
A young Goat, still with speech,
Asked humans as he went by
Their old time wasting pitch.
“Have you seen my wives go by?”
“Wives?” They jeer and returned.
Enquires to, the grown kid comply.
“Wives,” he so proudly confirmed.
“No laddie,” their answer did fly.
“We only saw your full mothers
And your many sisters walk by.”
“But they’re my wives, my brothers.”
On CHRISTMAS MORNING
CHICKEN woke GASPING
Do I PROCEED to SLAUGHTER,
Carry on FEEDING MURDER?
Or helplessly WATCH ON,
TEARED up, sadly MOURN?
Which in clearly MEAN,
What is indeed HUMANE?
Do pls help add an ADVICE
I’m PAINED, feeling not nice!
IT’S FINALLY HERE!!
The perfect Christmas gift for your child (1-6)
A fully illustrated Children Story book, with childish drawings to inspire your child’s imagination & budding talents.
MERRY CHRISTMAS Y’ALL
Does General Gowon look like somebody who moved to London with half of Nigeria’s Central Bank?
We, the undersigned call upon Hon. Member of Parliament representing Tonbridge and Malling of the United Kingdom, Ted Tugendhat to withdraw his recent statement at Westminster;
“Some people would remember when General Gowon left Nigeria with half of the central bank, or so it was said, and moved to London,”
Mr. Tugendhat, had spoken when E-petition 554150 was being considered at the British Parliament on Monday, November 23, 2020 over a petition seeking sanction against the Nigerian government for alleged human rights abuses during the #EndSARS protests.
We are not unmindful that the MP had added “so it was said” to his presumptuous claim. That notwithstanding, Mr. Tugendhat would have availed himself with some basic historical overview on the exact circumstances of how General Gowon ended up dining at the student cafeteria at Warwick University after his overthrow on July 29, 1975 while in Kampala attending a summit of the Organization of African Unity (OAU now African Union)
Even after 45 years, General Gowon’s statement thereafter remains instructive;
“From all indications a new government had been established in Nigeria. I wish to state that I, on my part, have also accepted the change and pledged my full loyalty to my nation, my country and the new government. Therefore, in the overall interest of the nation and our beloved country, I appeal to all concerned to cooperate fully with the new government and ensure the preservation of peace, unity and stability of our dear motherland.
As a Nigerian, I am prepared to serve my country in any capacity, which my country may consider appropriate. I am a professional soldier and I can do any duty that I am called upon to do.
May I take this opportunity to thank all the people of Nigeria and friends of Nigeria for the support and cooperation that you all gave me during my tenure of office and call upon all of you to give the new government of our nation the same support and cooperation in the interest of our beloved country.
Long live one united, happy and prosperous Nigeria. Long live the Organisation of African Unity.”
The attached images are of General Gowon after he had enrolled as a student at the University of Warwick, United Kingdom. Where eventually his Ph.D Thesis focused on The Economic Community of West African States: A study in Political and Economic integration.
It would be recalled after his overthrow from government several investigations were made into corrupt enrichment. The General was neither found complicit nor indicted in any. More ever;
“Many offers of residence came to him in Kampala from various African countries. He notified the new regime in Lagos that he would leave Kampala for Lome in Togo. Since he was financially broke, teary-eyed members of the Nigerian delegation along with staffers at the Nigerian High Commission in Kampala donated 3000 pounds sterling to enable him begin a new life. He was flown to Lome – via Garoua in Cameroon – aboard President Idi Amin’s executive jet.
Part of the flight passed through Nigerian airspace and Gowon took the opportunity to transmit a radio message reaffirming loyalty to and support for Brigadier Muhammed’s new regime. Although offered permanent domicile in Togo he chose to join his family in the United Kingdom. He received an additional 10,000 pounds sterling donation from General Eyadema. Following a telephone call to Brigadier Muhammed, during which he made requests for elementary federal assistance, he left for London.”
“When he got to London, he was offered official accommodation by the Nigerian government which he, however, turned down for a variety of reasons. After some weeks at the Portman Hotel, he moved into the house of an old friend – Mr. Emmanuel Otti – at 472 Finchley Road, London. The delay was to enable the house to be redecorated by Mr. and Mrs. Otti and Brigadier Sam Ogbemudia (who had been in the UK when the coup took place in Nigeria). Other friends came to the assistance of the family. It was not until September 1975 that he began to get his pension and gratuities as a retired Four-Star General. In the nine years he had been Nigeria’s ruler he had not built himself a single house, inside or outside the country, nor did he expropriate one kobo of government money.
Unlike some of those who served under him, his TOTAL savings throughout his service years as well as his years as Nigeria’s leader was N75,000 – all of which was inside Nigeria. In time to come this would stand in stark contrast to the conduct of and personal fortunes of most of those who conspired to remove him from office – or benefited from it.
Once settled in with his family, the General, who was offered several Masters Degree programs, signed up for undergraduate studies in Political Science at Warwick University. Newspapers in Nigeria later carried news items and photographs depicting the former Nigerian leader carrying trays in a student cafeteria in the UK.
The Muhammed regime was embarrassed and therefore dispatched Brigadier TY Danjuma (who, took Kano born Col. Wali along) to ask Gowon adopt a supposedly more dignified stance. Gowon rejected the overture and reassured his “embarrassed sympathizers” that he was comfortable with his situation. (Conceivably nothing could have been more embarrassing than to be overthrown while attending an OAU summit). He made friends among the Nigerian students at Warwick, including a family friend of mine, Desmond Guobadia, now a legal practitioner in Lagos. Meanwhile his spouse, the former First Lady, Mrs. Victoria Gowon (who was a nurse) registered as a catering student at a University College in London.”
See details in; Military Rebellion of July 29, 1975 – Epilogue: From Kampala to Lome to London and back to Nigeria by Nowa Omoigui
Therefore, we the undersigned call upon all Nigerians of goodwill and indeed the members of the international community at large to ignore the insinuations of Mr. Tugendhat. In turn, by this signed clarification we call upon the MP to be appropriately corrected and to do the needful by withdrawing his statement on General Gowon.
Ahmed Yahaya Joe.
English: If Theo walk at night, Theo might get lost.
Pidgin: If Theo waka for night, THEOPHILUS.
English: It will take a while before Dan arrives.
English: Jason started it..
Pidgin: Na JASON STATHAM
English : It’s Ramsey that knows her.
Pidgin: Na Ramsey Noah
ENGLISH: Are u Videoing it.
PIGIN: U DAVIDO am.
ENGLISH: Olamide is Bad.
PIGIN: Olamide Baddoo.
ENGLISH: How did u know.
PIGIN: How u Tekno.
ENGLISH: He Might Know.
PIGIN: He Phyno.
ENGLISH: I thought he is a girl, but he is a boy.
PIGIN: I think say na Girl, Burna Boy.
ENGLISH: The Song Belongs to Sam.
PIGIN: Na SamSung.
ENGLISH: It’s David that Baked it.
PIGIN: Na David Beckham.
ENGLISH: Selena will fart.
PIGIN: Selena Gomez.
ENGLISH: Their Belly.
ENGLISH: John is Weak.
PIGIN: John Wick.
ENGLISH: Roberto’s Car got lost.
PIGIN: Roberto Carlos.
ENGLISH: He went to see Linda.
PIGIN: He go Cylinder.
ENGLISH: It wasn’t Me, It was Ruth.
PIGIN: No be Me, Naruto.
ENGLISH: I don’t Care.
PIGIN: I Nokia.
ENGLISH: How did u know that I told him to knock your Head??.
PIGIN: How u Tecno say Itel am make Im Nokia head?
Nigerians will always be innovative.
After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”
By Taiwo Sanni
Tell my mother I was unarmed.
Tell my father I had the flag in my hands when I was shot.
Tell the unborn Generation that I died singing the national anthem.
Tell the cowards who shot me that my spirit lives on in the life of every good Nigerian youth.
Tell the government that they shot my body but not my spirit.
Tell the world I died for freedom like many good people before me.
I regret nothing, for I have done what my father’s, mother’s, uncle’s and aunt’s couldn’t do out of fear. Let God judge me, I am only sorry for the pain of leaving you this early.
My prints will forever remain in the sands of history for I have done my time based on the path I chose freely & willingly.
Now that my torment in Nigeria is over, please lay me to rest on mother earth where you all will join me in due time, take my voice and hand it over to the next good youth whom I hope by Gods Almighty grace will benefit a better Nation.
For I know that freedom is coming, yes freedom will come tomorrow.
By Ahmed Yahaya Joe
There is an overwhelming need to improve inter-communal harmony that has become so toxic in our dear nation. Religious hatred is a mainly product of ignorance and mischief. Both sides of the divide are very much guilty particularly against the background of political grandstanding. We currently live in tumultuous times. The ravages of the Coronavirus pandemic is no respecter for religious difference. Its economic fallout will not spare anyone while the political will be all encompassing irrespective. We therefore need a bird’s eye view on issues to pull through.
I asked the first Israeli I ever met, why the dickens Jews and Arabs in that highly combustible nation haven’t been able to work out an acceptable peace agreement between them for decades? She replied that the problem wasn’t actually religious as I had presumed but more about international power play, control and manipulation of spheres of influence as such it will be extremely difficult if not impossible to resolve the fundamental issues between them due to the various conflicting interests beyond their borders.
I still find my conversation with that secular Jewess in far away Singapore 31 years ago instructive as far as Nigeria is concerned Najran is the capital of the a southern administrative division of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia of the same name. Before 1902 there were 4 monarchical Sheikhs of 4 regions which Abdulaziz Al Saud of Nejd emerged superior and became overall King in 1932 up to 1953. All subsequent monarchs in Saudi Arabia to date are among his 36 sons that survived him based on seniority.
I first heard about the Pact of Najran through my good friend Ahmad Ramadan, a extremely brilliant legal mind who back in the mid 1990s was a practitioner at the chambers of Aliyu Umar Esq, later Aliyu Umar SAN now of blessed memory.
On the al-Masīḥiyyūn al-ʿArab in the historical Arabian Peninsula the background narrative is; “The visit of the Christians of Najran to the city of Medina in 631 is perhaps the most important noted interfaith interaction between Christians and Prophet Muhammad (pbuh). At this time Muhammad (pbuh) had sent letters to different communities and their leaders, encouraging them to embrace Islam. In the case of the Najran, who lived near Yemen, about 450 miles south of Medina, the Prophet sent Khaled ibn al-Walid and Ali ibn Abi Talib to deliver the letter.
At the time of this diplomatic endeavor, Najran Christians had a highly organized religious system. As such, after considering Muhammad’s (pbuh) letter, it is unsurprising that few Christians embraced Islam. In reaction to this “failed attempt” of conversion, Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) sent another representative to Najran, Mughira Ibn Shu’ba, who was meant to elaborate on this new religion called Islam. Intrigued by Ibn Shu’ba’s message, the Najran Christians sent a delegation of sixty people to visit the Prophet in Medina. The delegation consisted of about forty-five scholars and fifteen assistants.
When the Christians of Najran arrived to Medina, Muhammad allowed them to pray in Nabawi mosque where the Muslims also prayed. This invitation was not only the first example of Christian-Muslim dialogue, but it was the first time that Christians prayed in a mosque. While Prophet Muhammad and the Najrans were not able to reach common ground on all theological issues, he nonetheless gave them a place to stay near his home, and even ordered Muslims to pitch their tent.
Upon leaving Medina, the Najran Christian leaders told Muhammad (pbuh):
“O, Abu al-Qasim, we decided to leave you as you are and you leave us as we are”. But the Christians nevertheless left Medina with a pact (written guarantee) that Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) would protect their lives, property, and freedom to practice Christianity.”
No doubt the visit of Najran Christians to Medina is an example of religious pluralism. If so why are Al – Mu’minin (Muslims) and Ahl – al – Kitab (Christians) so historically daggers drawn? There is need to highlight the Pact of Najran;
“I hereby declare that my horsemen, my foot-soldiers, my armies, my resources, and my Muslim partisans will protect the Christians as far away as they may be located, whether they inhabit the lands which border my state, in any region, close or far, in times of peace as much as in times of war. I commit myself to support them, to place their persons under my protection, as well as their churches, chapels, oratories, the monasteries of their monks, the residences of their anchorites wherever they are found, be they in the mountains or the valleys, caves or inhabited regions, in the plains or in the desert.
I will protect their religion and their Church wherever they are found, be it on earth or at sea, in the West or in the East, with utmost vigilance on my part, the People of my House, and the Muslims as a whole.
I place them under my protection. I make a pact with them. I commit myself to protect them from any harm or damage; to exempt them for any requisitions or any onerous obligations and to protect them myself, by means of my assistants, my followers and my nation against every enemy who targets me and them”
Agreed there is controversy over the applicability of the he Pact of Najran beyond that specific Christian community the treaty was sealed with. Understandably, through the eras of the Abbasids, Fatimids, Ayyubids, Mamluks, Safavids, and so on Ottomans right down to the Maliki revival of Sheikh Othman Dan Fodio a lot of water has passed under the bridge, lest I forget the intervening Crusades that spanned 175 years from 1096 – 1271.
We however have a monumental reference point in our own clime in the groundbreaking letter written by Shehu al- Hajj Muhammad al – Amin al – Kanemi (1776 -1837) on the 23rd day of Rabee-ul-thani, 1238 AH to the Sultan of Sokoto, Muhammad Bello (1781 – 1837) who was Amir al – Mu’minin, Commander of the Faithful from 1814 -1836. After the usual polite and often flowering greetings, felicitations and best wishes the Shehu of Borno that was born in Murzuk, in present day Libya stated;
“Hence, the cause of writing this letter and the purpose of its lines, is to acquaint you that the bearers are English travelers; whose nation, out of all the other Christians, has maintained with the Mooslemeen uninterrupted treaties of religious amity and friendship, established since ancient periods, which they inherited from their forefathers and ancestors; and on this account, they penetrate into Mooslemeen countries whenever they please, and traverse all provinces and lands in confidence and trust, without fear. They came to our country, sent to us by our virtuous and accomplished friend, the Lord Yousuf Pasha, master of Tripoli, to see and delight themselves with the wonders of the Land of Soodan, and to become acquainted with its rarities, as lakes, rivers, and forests (or gardens) ; equal to which are seldom seen in other countries.”
The accomplished cleric and sovereign of the Borno empire that was of Kanembu ancestry of present day Tchad who upstaged the Sefuwa dynasty with its former capital in today’s Yobe state, ruled from Kukawa which he founded in 1814. Maiduguri was later established around Yerwa by the Ngadda River in 1907 after a treaty with the Germans, French and British.
“You are well aware of what is stated in Alcoraanic sayings upon the subject of the observance of honour, dictated by our Lord, the Apostle of God; and that the true Mooslemeen have always avoided shedding the blood of Christians, and assisted and protected them with their honour. Be then attentive to these travelers, and cast them not into the corners of neglect; let no one hurt them, either by words or deeds, nor interrupt them with any injurious behavior: but let them return to us, safe, and may the high God bestow upon you the best reward for your treatment to them, and insure to us and to you the path of righteousness for conduct in this life.”
For me this iconic attestation that accompanied the English explorers Major Dixon Denham and Royal Navy Commander Hugh Clapperton from Kukawa to Sokoto in January, 1824 is sufficient proof of the historical covenant between Muslims and Christians before even Nigeria was crafted into being a nation. It is on that foundation laid 196 years ago we must build a new Nigeria!
In any case the conclusion of the Pact of Najran emphasized;
“Christians must not be subjected to suffer, by abuse, on the subject of marriages which they do not desire. Muslims should not take Christian girls in marriage against the will of their parents nor should they oppress their families in the event that they refused their offers of engagement and marriage. Such marriages should not take place without their desire and agreement and without their approval and consent. If a Muslim takes a Christian woman as a wife, he must respect her Christian beliefs. He will give her freedom to listen to her [clerical] superiors as she desires and to follow the path of her own religion.”
In conclusion; You don’t have to be Hindu to enjoy Indian films or an Inca to watch Telenovelas or indeed worship Shinto to drive a Honda or Toyota neither have no religion to patronize any Chinese product nor be a Korean Buddhist to use any Samsung or be an agnostic to admire Nelson Mandela. Must you own an iPhone or any Apple product if like Steve Jobs that produced them you don’t subscribe to any particular religion?
Less 48 hours or so ago America despite its present health pandemic and economic woes launched a space mission called Mars 2020 Perseverance Rover; “That will search for signs of ancient microbial life, which will advance the quest to explore the past habitability of Mars. The rover has a drill to collect core samples of Martian rock and soil, then store them in sealed tubes for pickup by a future mission that would ferry them back to Earth for detailed analysis. Perseverance will also test technologies to help pave the way for future human exploration of Mars” – yet here we are in Nigeria still dividing ourselves over religion!
The space between your eyebrows is called a glabella
The way it smells after the rain is called petrichor.
The plastic or metallic coating at the end of your shoelaces is called an aglet.
The rumbling of stomach is actually called a wamble.
The cry of a new born baby is called a vagitus.
The prongs on a fork are called tines.
The sheen or light that you see when you close your eyes and press your hands on them is called phosphenes.
The tiny plastic table placed in the middle of a pizza box is called a box tent.
The day after tomorrow is called overmorrow.
Your tiny toe or finger is called minimus.
The wired cage that holds the cork in a bottle of champagne is called an agraffe.
The ‘na na na’ and ‘la la la’, which don’t really have any meaning in the lyrics of any song, are called vocables.
When you combine an exclamation mark with a question mark (like this ?!), it is referred to as an interrobang.
The space between your nostrils is called columella nasi
The armhole in clothes, where the sleeves are sewn, is called armscye.
The condition of finding it difficult to get out of the bed in the morning is called dysania.
Unreadable hand -writing is called griffonage.
The dot over an “i” or a “j” is called tittle.
That utterly sick feeling you get after eating or drinking too much is called crapulence.
The metallic device used to measure your feet at the shoe store is called Bannock device.
By Ahmed Yahaya Joe
I have just finished watching a BBC documentary that featured the attached family (L-R) Rizqy Setiawan, Iwan Setiawan and Sarah Setiawan flanking Ahmad Hassan (2nd from L) Iwan is the father of Rizqy and Sarah.
Meanwhile, Ahmad Hassan is on death row. He was one of the conspirators of a bomb attack that killed Iwan’s wife, the mother of Rizqy and Sarah. The program put together by the maverick BBC reporter Rebecca Henschke was such a profound experience for me. It is a poignant reminder that the best way to fight against evil is through forgiveness. As Abraham Lincoln famously asked;
“Do I not destroy my enemies by making them my friends?”
“Setiawan was on his motorbike, speeding past the Australian embassy in Jakarta. His mind was on his wife, whose arms were around his chest and whose pregnant belly he could feel pressing against his back. Their second child was due within weeks and they were on their way to hospital for a check-up. Suddenly there was this incredibly loud sound and we were thrown into the air,” he remembers. Iwan didn’t know till much later that it was a suicide bomb, planted by a militant group a responsible for a series of attacks in Indonesia, including the Bali bombing in 2002 that killed 202 people from around the world. “I saw blood. Lots of blood. Metal went flying into one of my eyes, destroying it. His wife was thrown from the bike, landing metres away. Both were rushed to hospital and, in a state of shock, a badly injured Halila Seroja Daulay went into labour.
She was rushed into the operating room after getting contractions. But praise be to Allah, somehow she was still able to give birth naturally,” Iwan says. That night Rizqy was born. His name means “blessing”
According to Setiawan “I lost my best friend, my soul mate, the person who completed me. It’s so painful to talk about it,”. At first, he was filled with a desire for revenge. “I wanted the arrested conspirators to die, but I didn’t want them to die quickly,” he says. “I wanted them to be tortured first. I wanted their skin to be cut and salt put in the wounds so that they had some idea of the pain their bombing caused, both physically and mentally. My children and I have struggled so incredibly hard just to keep living.”
The car bomb attack that killed Mrs Setiawan went off at 10.30 am Jakarta time on September 9, 2004. It killed the suicide bomber that triggered it, 8 others, injured 150 and destroyed not just the Australian embassy but that of Greece and China shattering glass windows up to half a kilometer away. 6 persons were eventually arrested and sentenced to death. They are currently cooling off their heels in a maximum security prison on a jungle covered island that the surviving Setiawan family members met Ahmad Hassan including the mastermind of the bomb attack Darmawan Munto Rois. Setiawan senior had all previously met them before bringing his children along. Who by way of introduction started;
“I have invited my children to meet you, I want them to understand too why you did the bombing that killed their mother and caused me to lose one of my eyes. They have to know because they lost their mother when they were so young” Ahmad Hassan nods solemnly and replies;
“I never wanted to hurt your father, he just happened to be passing by, and my friend who was carrying the bomb blew it up at that time. I hope that you, the children of Iwan, can forgive me.” His voice starts to break.
“I am a flawed human. I have made many mistakes. My friends and I were given the wrong education and learning. I wish that we hadn’t acted before we had really gained knowledge and understood what we were doing,” he continued.
Sarah summons up courage and says; “I would always ask my dad when I was little, ‘Where is my mum?’ and he told me she was at Allah’s house. I asked where that was, and he said it was the mosque. So I ran away to the mosque. My grandmother was looking for me, and when she found me I told her that I was waiting for my mum. I was waiting for my mum to come home. But she has never come home.”
“Hassan closes his eyes and opens his hands in prayer. Over and over he mumbles a prayer seeking forgiveness from Allah. “Allah wanted me to have to meet you and be forced to try and explain,” he finally manages to say. “But I can’t explain to you my child, I am sorry. “I can’t hold back my tears. I take Sarah as my own child. Please, please forgive me. It’s in your hands.” Everyone in this tiny room is crying – except the mastermind and financier of the bomb attack who on his part stated; “I have a child, too. I haven’t seen my wife or child for years. I really miss them. I am even worse off than you. You’re still with your children. My child doesn’t even know me.” Darmawan continued “I didn’t do what they said I did. Why did I admit to it? Maybe when you are older you will understand” he said directly to the Setiawan children but added
“All humans have made mistakes. If I have wronged you in any way I apologise. I feel pain. I really do”
The entire meeting is part of a De-radicalisation program by the Indonesian government that brings captured terrorists and their victims face to face many of which have found healing and moved on with their lives without bitterness. Quite a number of the terrorists have also recanted because they are kept in isolation. Without their death sentences carried out and group solidarity they break down. Can the same template be applied in Nigeria? Will one day Shekau pose for a photograph holding hands with the Sharibu family? Are terrorists not actually pawns on a chessboard they neither understand nor have real control over? Truth is the real terrorist grandmasters never blow up themselves or get in any harms way.
They always pose as good guys because terrorism is the continuation of politics by other means. That not withstanding there is power in forgiveness.
The various aftermaths of the Nigerian Civil War during the Oil Boom 70s, the emergence of a Rainbow Nation after dismantling of Apartheid in South Africa and the current soaring of Rwanda after the Hutu genocide against Tutsis are all examples of that awesome power.
I love this analogy!
You are holding a cup of coffee when someone comes along and bumps into you or shakes your arm, making you spill your coffee everywhere.
Why did you spill the coffee?
“Because someone bumped into me!!!”
You spilled the coffee because there was coffee in your cup.
Had there been tea in the cup, you would have spilled tea.
Whatever is inside the cup is what will spill out.
Therefore, when life comes along and shakes you (which WILL happen), whatever is inside you will come out. It’s easy to fake it, until you get rattled.
So we have to ask ourselves… “what’s in my cup?”
When life gets tough, what spills over?
Joy, gratefulness, peace and humility?
Anger, bitterness, harsh words and reactions?
Life provides the cup, YOU choose how to fill it.
Today let’s work towards filling our cups with gratitude, forgiveness, joy, words of affirmation; and kindness, gentleness and love for others.