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Please Feel my Heartbeat

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please feel my heartbeat“When a man learns to love, he must bear the risk of hatred.”

Please feel my heartbeat as memories of the times we spent together overpowers me. I want to ask myself ‘why do I feel this way?’ but I know the answer deep within.

These were the words she poured out when I caught hold of her yesterday evening in respect to his previous post. Lol… the ‘her’ in this statement is actually the girl my fellow blogger was referring to when he wrote ‘FEEL MY HEARTBEAT, PLEASE’. Yeah! I know it wasn’t my business but I had to confront the girl to know why she made him feel that way. Anyway, this was what she asked me to tell him;

The hurt I feel each time I hear your voice in my head reminding me of how much I loved you. The shattering pain that takes its toll in my heart anytime I see you walk by. Who would have thought that one’s once love could become one’s greatest hatred. I hate you for all the feelings that you let me experience, for, for all I had given I received nothing but sweet nonsense from the tip of your tongue.
I hate you for every joy I felt when you were right beside me, holding my hands as we looked above at the night sky, so dark graced with stars. Who knew that all the faith that I had had in our proclaimed everlasting love would have no fuel to fill this fire.

Please Feel my Heartbeat

please feel my heartbeatNow the moon who is supposed to be a strong heavenly body worshiped by we humans now receives the blunt of my anger for I remember the day I gave myself to you the full moon was right outside in the dark watching. Oh why didn’t it just close its eyes and give way to a heavy downpour. At least I would have had a thunder and lightning and perhaps you would have been struck.

My heart holds no joy at once loving you because now that I’m all clear-eyed and fully aware I know you never loved me.

Why do I feel this way? Please Feel my Heartbeat

Full of hate, pain, regrets. Full of tears and empty, filled with thoughts of broken promises and unhappy tales. Why do I feel this hollow in me? For all the times I thought we had great times I realized I have been left with emptiness and lack of fulfillment; unfulfilled that my love wasn’t enough to keep us going and lasting… no break downs, no stops.

Please Feel my Heartbeat

Cursed be that day when you had me confessing my love for you. And cursed be the day I dream of you back in my life. This pain was built to last but for a while and just experienced once, and you are my once… never a twice!

Please Feel my Heartbeat

Wow! this is really touching. Who would have thought? Anyway, we can’t judge on who is at fault or not. They have both shared their sides and I seriously do not know who is being truthful and plain but what can we do if not speculate and create our own final judgements.

If you have your own views on who is right or not, please drop it on the comment box below. I’d love to know what you think.

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UC new companies to vie for $300K in grant cash

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UC new companies to vie for $300K in grant cash

UC new companies to vie for $300K in grant cash

Biotech new companies with binds to the University of California may have the capacity to vie for countless dollars in significant seed subsidizing this fall.

The college reported Tuesday that primeUC, the first of what is would have liked to be a progression of rivalries, will make a sum of $300,000 accessible to organizations creating innovation identified with therapeutics, customer wellbeing, restorative gadgets or diagnostics. UC new companies to vie for $300K in grant cash

One organization will win an amazing prize of $150,000 and three runner-up organizations will win $50K, as per the workplace of UC President Janet Napolitano. UC new companies to vie for $300K in grant cash

New businesses in the life sciences field with authors or individuals from any of the 10 University of California grounds or three related national research centers – with not exactly $1 million in private financing – will be qualified to contend, as per the college.

“We’re priming entrepreneurs for success,” director of the primeUC program Neena Kadaba said in a statement.

“Seed funding is scarce for the tremendous number of startups coming out of the University of California. We created primeUC to introduce these young companies to the investment community. Even if finalists don’t win an award, they’ll get valuable exposure.”

Kadaba imagines primeUC as a yearly stage to distinguish promising new businesses and expects that in future years the center will incorporate different fields notwithstanding life sciences. UC new companies to vie for $300K in grant cash

Applications during the current year’s rival are expected by Sept. 25.

By Oct. 5, semi-finalists will be welcome to one of the semi-finals pitching occasions at either UC Berkeley or UCLA. UC new companies to vie for $300K in grant cash

Twenty finalists will be informed on Oct. 28 that they have proceeded onward to contend in the last round.

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Fear of Rejection produces Regret

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fear of rejectionWhy are you scared of being rejected?

Fear of Rejection; this is to all the brothers, especially bloggers who hide their cowardice behind articles. One love!

Fear of rejection is a canker-worm that is eating into the social lives of so many dudes in recent times. I wonder most times how a young man or let me use the word ‘adolescent’, would be so naive in the pursuit of happiness. Come on, it is obvious you know what you want and exactly how to go about it but fear of rejection and cowardice turns you into a spectator seemingly watching from behind the curtains.

You can call me heartless, you can call me harsh, I’ve been called worse but I can’t sit back, fold my arms and relax to watch amazing dudes dive into an ocean of cowardice. If you begin this confusing, life-ending sport at this age when will you retire?

Fear of Rejection

The fear of rejection has taken its toll on your very existence. It has bound your legs together and tied an anchor to it in order to pull you and your self-esteem down the drain pipes of humiliation, disappointment and loneliness.

The most annoying part is that you’d end up singing “you gonna leave me lonesome when you go…” What the fear of rejectionf**k? How can you say that the babe is leaving you when there is nothing going on between you two? Brother, you can actually grab the bull by the balls and take that leap of faith by asking her out to be you lover, or you can sit down and watch from the crowd as she graciously enters into another’s waiting and willing hands.

Bear in mind that the worse thing she would say is NO…she can’t take away your birthday or start world war III. Taking risk, making mistakes, and learning from these experiences is what would build you up as a young man.

Our lives begins to end the day we become silent about things that matter MARTIN LUTHER KING

Remember, in the end we would only regret the chances we never took.

Kick Away that ugly Fear of Rejection Now!!!

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Love letter to an angel

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Love letter to an angel
love letter to an angel

I once wrote a love letter to an angel, put my feeling on an A4 so when the postman asked me for an address i said heaven, and he told me they don’t deliver that far. It was hurtful and then i realized, sometimes it’s not all impossible. would you listen to my story if i told you i was just a shy kid with a bunch of emotions, and i love a girl but don’t know how to tell her,because she’s just a few months older. A cleaver man would tell you love is pain in a different form, but a wise man would tell you when you find love then you take your true form … Love letter to an angel

Love letter to an angel

I fell in love with this girl from a mile away, first thing i said to her was,”you resemble an angel”.. but not out loud tho, see I’ve felt this before but not in this way , see I’m not so good with the lines so i just kept quite and smiled, luckily i was with a friend of mine so it wasn’t that obvious… So we’re sitting by a pool side at a hotel,normally if you’re sitting down with a person you’re actually supposed to be paying attention to what that person is saying… But i couldn’t pay attention because my mind was fighting with my heart, i was trying to stay still and mind my own business but i just saw this girl and all i could do was visualize, see our relationship is a beautiful one and i won’t want to make it awkward and frankly i don’t think I’m ready for a relationship, talked to her about it in a coded way and she said the same thing..” I’m not thinking that far ” she said, but still I’ll write my Love letter to an angel

Love letter to an angel

Dear angel,

I’m not so good with words and i don’t really know how to express myself but i do know this, you make the sadness go away and your smile makes everything better, i know its so obvious when i look at you that I’m in love with you and i think you know already know. But the thing is, if you’re waiting for me to say something i don’t really know how to start… don’t know if I’m going to get the expected reaction or are my words going to be insoluble in your heart…. i mean I’ve been so comfortable  in the friend zone, I’m too scared to get on the battlefield of love…. but whatever happens know i feel you like your my heartbeat… you’re all I’ve ever wanted.. just bear with me it could take a bit…

love, the shy kid from across the street.Love letter to an angel

Now i ask you guys, should i still send this love letter to an angel, or should i sheared it? Comment please

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Radioactive World; Are We Set For Doom?

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radioactive worldDOOMSDAY ARRIVES – A RADIOACTIVE WORLD!!!

Radioactive entails exhibiting radioactivity, and radioactivity is the spontaneous emission of ionizing radiation as a consequence of a nuclear reaction, or directly from the breakdown of an unstable nucleus.

Damn! I really am into this English thing these days, cool right? Yes, I knew you’d agree. Anyway, let’s get down to business; in simple English terms, radioactivity is the destruction of an area by the discharge of the nuclear weapon or element like gamma ray; therefore something is radioactive when it shows evidence of destruction by nuclear elements.

Why did he pick the topic ‘Radioactive World’ you may ask?

The answer is staring you right in the face; with the rate at which nuclear weapons and dirty bombs are built these days, and having the consciousness that the world is on the verge of another war, I am safe to say that a radioactive world is crawling, no! It is not crawling but running fast upon us.radioactive world

The economy of the United States of America is dropping on a daily basis, its unemployment rate is deteriorating on an accelerating speed, and the nation is slowly losing its grip on the World Power. Yeah! I said it; you can research yourself and you’d find out that I’m right, but let’s not go into that now. We are still talking about radioactivity or as the topic states ‘radioactive world’.

Picture an earth without the United States of America as the governing body like we’ve all gotten used to… I’m giving you some seconds to float in your mind’s eye…

what did you come up with?

Well, I saw a world in chaos and war, killings and plunder all because the top nations would be in a battle for the World Government; United Kingdom, Russia, Germany, North Korea, Israel, etc.radioactive world

The above named countries are going to bring about the dreaded radioactive world. I think I have said too much already but I have one more statement to make,

on no account should Africa get involved in the coming war. What do we want to use the World Government to do? We aren’t done governing ourselves, is it now the World we want to govern? The thought of it is so funny that I actually pushed down my laptop while writing this article in the name of laughing.

Also, the warring nations should please on no account use our countries for target practice, I believe we are cool the way we are.

Thank you all for your keen interest and stay tuned as I bring more matters concerning our survival to your tables.

Remember; Say NO to a Radioactive World.

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Invest in the City of Awka; 5 Reasons to do so

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Invest

 Invest In Awka

Okay so I was thinking recently about business in Nigeria and I came up with 5 reasons why entrepreneurs and businessmen should invest and grow businesses in the city of Awka.

  1. Capital City Advantage: Awka is the capital city of Anambra state, now that’s something any wise entrepreneur would see as a futuristic advantage. The fact that the place is not yet developed to taste doesn’t mean it’s a bad place to invest business; In fact, it means the exact opposite! Looking at other states, mostly the capital is the most developed part, this movement would eventually reach the city of Awka and by then many would be entrenched in ‘had I known’ lament.
  2. Less Competition: Depending on the kind of business you’re into and the sector you’re involved in, there’s literally little or no competition. Anyone who steps in with a grand business plan and great packaging will inadvertently swoop the market to his/her side. Look at the recreational section of this city for instance, it’s sparsely indulged.

    Invest In Awka

    Going in there blindfolded isn’t advisable though, wisdom should guide anyone trying to explore that venture to choose wisely when it comes to location, and other factors. Building a recreational park or a zoo in the hamlets of Okpuno for example is like telling a horse stranded in the Arabian Desert that you have some water in the Amazonian jungle. This area requires counsel from professionals.

  3. Seed Time & Harvest: Like I said firstly, Awka is the capital city of Anambra and is still undergoing development. Anyone who understands times would know instinctively that this is the time to invest and put seeds into the ground for the harvest is fast approaching.
  4. More Profit (aiding development): This sounds like cheating, even to me writing it; but passionate staff would know it’s for the better. The city of Awka’s population is 60% students, now this is an advantage, most of them have parents paying their rent and footing their bills, they only get a job to feel they’re making their own money, look important, or to get rid of laziness (though some really need those jobs!) Now to maximise profit, a company can discuss with it’s employees and give them a fixed amount salary for the time being, so that whatever was cut out can be put back into the company to help aid development and then the full salary can be implemented when the company attains a certain stage of development.
  5. Unskilled staffs tend to be more loyal: Now many of these students are here in Awka strictly to face their studies and leave. Too bad, many of them are the ones qualified for the vacancies that may be in our offices and yet the ones we end up hiring are the unqualified ones who have to make mistakes a thousand times before they are good at what they do. Patience is really required on the side of the employer, patience entwined with wisdom though for if you discover that the one under your employ is not a prospect for the future, then they have to be laid off. Having unskilled workers means they have to learn from you and become pros off of your tutelage; this is an advantage to the company because the learning process runs up the heart of the worker to drive the company. These ones who put their heart into the company’s future are the kind of people you would need to push your company forward.

Invest In Awka

Having put down these 5 reasons, I should say especially to young entrepreneurs that it would be unwise to jump into business head-first without thinking or having a mentor who counsels you on how to invest wisely.

Many businesses have crumbled because their founders didn’t really look into the future to see what would happen. The business sector is a very tricky place; your own very mistakes are the sharks that would eat you up.

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Biafra, What you never knew about Her

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Biafra WHAT YOU NEVER KNEW ABOUT BIAFRA

Biafra, what do you know about Her story?? Here’s an account of the country’s legacy by American writer and humorist Kurt Vonnegut, he titled it ‘A PEOPLE BETRAYED’.

There is a “Kingdom of Biafra” on some old maps which were made by early white explorers of the west coast of Africa. Nobody is now sure what that kingdom was, what its laws and arts and tools were like. No tales survive of the kings and queens.

 

It was a nation with more citizens than Ireland and Norway combined. It proclaimed itself an independent republic on May 30, 1967. On January 17 of 1970, it surrendered unconditionally to Nigeria, the nation from which it had tried to secede. It had few friends in this world, and among its active enemies were Russia and Great Britain. Its enemies were pleased to call it a “tribe.”

They were mainly Christian and they spoke English melodiously, and their economy was this one: small-town free enterprise. Their worthless currency was gravely honored to the end.

The tune of the national anthem was Finlandia, by Jan Sibelius. They admired the arctic Finns because the Finns won and kept their freedom in spite of ghastly odds.

She lost her freedom, of course, and I was in the middle of it as all its fronts were collapsing. I flew in from Gabon on the night of January 3, with bags of corn, beans, and powdered milk, aboard a blacked out DC6 chartered by Caritas, the Roman Catholic relief organization. I flew out six nights later on an empty DC4 chartered by the French Red Cross. It was the last plane to leave that was not fired upon.

While I was there, I saw a play which expressed the spiritual condition of the people at the end. It was set in ancient times, in the home of a medicine man. The moon had not been seen for many months, and the crops had failed. There was nothing to eat anymore. A sacrifice was made to a goddess of fertility, and the sacrifice was refused. The goddess gave the reason: The people were not sufficiently unselfish and brave.

Before the drama began, the national anthem was played on an ancient marimba. It seems likely that similar marimbas were heard in the court of the Kingdom. The black man who played the marimba was naked to the waist. He squatted on the stage. He was a composer. He also held a doctor’s degree from the London School of Economics.

I went with another novelist, my old friend Vance Bourjaily, and with Miss Miriam Reik, who would be our guide. She was head of a pro-Biafran committee that had already flown several American writers into Biafra. She would pay our way.

I met her for the first time at Kennedy Airport. We were about to take off for Paris together. It was New Year’s Day. I bought her a drink, though she protested that her committee should pay, and I learned that she had a doctor’s degree in English literature. She was also a pianist and a daughter of Theodor Reik, the famous psychoanalyst.

Her father had died three days before.

I told Miriam how sorry I was about her father, said how much I’d liked the one book of his I had read, which was Listening with the Third Ear.

He was a gentle Jew, who got out of Austria while the getting was good. Another well-known book of his was Masochism in Modern Man.

And I asked her to tell me more about her committee, whose beneficiary I was, and she confessed that she was it: It was a committee of one. She is a tall, good-looking woman, by the way, thirty-two years old. She said she founded her own committee because she grew sick of other American organizations that were helping the Biafrans. Those organizations teemed with people ‘who were kinky with guilt’, she said. They were trying to dump some of that guilt by being maudlinly charitable. As for herself; she said, it was the greatness of the people, not their pitifulness that turned her on.

She hoped they would get more weapons from somebody, the very latest in killing machines. She was going into the country for the third time in a year. She wasn’t afraid of anything. Some committee.

I admire Miriam, though I am not grateful for the trip she gave me. It was like a free trip to Auschwitz when the ovens were still going full blast. I now feel lousy all the time.

I will follow Miriam’s example as best I can. My main aim will not be to move readers to voluptuous tears with tales about innocent black children dying like flies, about rape and looting and murder and all that. I will tell instead about an admirable nation that lived for less than three years.

De mortuis nil nisi bonum. Say nothing but good of the dead. I asked a citizen how long his nation had existed so far, and he replied, Three Christmases, and a little bit more.” He wasn’t a hungry baby. He was a hungry man. He was a living skeleton, but he walked like a man.

Miriam Reik and I picked up Vance Bouijaily in Paris, and we flew down to Gabon and then into Biafra. The only way to get in was at night by air. There were only eight passenger seats at the rear of the cabin. The rest of the cabin was heaped with bags of food. The food was from America.

We flew over water, there were Russian trawlers below. They were monitoring every plane that came in. The Russians were helpful in a lot of ways: They gave the Nigerians Ilyushin bombers and MIGs and heavy artillery. And the British gave the Nigerians artillery too and advisers, and tanks and armored cars, and machine guns and mortars and all that, and endless ammunition. America was neutral.

When we got close to the one remaining airport, which was a stretch of highway, its lights came on. It was a secret. Its lights resembled two rows of glowworms. The moment our wheels touched the runway, the runway lights went out and our plane’s headlights came on. Our plane slowed down, pulled off the runway, killed its lights, and then everything was pitch black again. There were only two white faces in the crowd around our plane. One was a Holy Ghost Father. The other was a doctor from the French Red Cross. The doctor ran a hospital for the children who were suffering from kwashiorkor, the pitiful children who had no protein.

Father.

Doctor.

As I write, Nigeria has arrested all the Holy Ghost Fathers, who stayed to the end with their people in the seceding country.

The priests were mostly Irishmen. They were beloved. Whenever they built a church, they also built a school. Children and simple men and women thought all white men were priests, so they would often beam at Vance or me and say, “Hello, Father.” The Fathers are now being deported forever. Their crime: compassion in time of war. We were taken to the Frenchman’s hospital the next morning, in a chauffeur-driven Peugeot. The name of the village itself sounded like the wail of a child: AwoOmama.

I said to an educated Biafran,

Americans may not know much, but they know about the children. We’re grateful, he replied, but I wish they knew more than that. They think we’re a dying nation. We aren’t. We’re an energetic, modern nation that is being born! We have doctors. We have hospitals. We have public-health programs. If we have so much sickness, it is because our enemies have designed every diplomatic and military move with one end in mind — that we starve to death.

About kwashiorkor: It is a rare disease, caused by a lack of protein. Its cure has been easy, until the blockading of Biafra.

The worst sufferers there were the children of refugees, driven from their homes, then driven off the roads and into the bush by MIGs and armored columns. These people weren’t jungle people. They were village people—farmers and professionals and clerks and businessmen. They had no weapons to hunt with. Back in the bush, they fed their children whatever roots and fruit they were lucky enough to find. At the end, a very common diet was water and thin air. So the children came down with kwashiorkor, no longer a rare disease. The child’s hair turned red. His skin split like the skin of a ripe tomato. His rectum protruded. His arms and legs were like lollipop sticks.

Vance and Miriam and I waded through shoals of children like those at Awo-Omama. We discovered that if we let our hands dangle down among the children, a child would grasp each finger or thumb—five children to a hand. A finger from a stranger, miraculously, would allow a child to stop crying for a while.

A MIG came over, fired a few rounds, didn’t hit anything this time, though the hospital had been hit often before. Our guide guessed that the pilot was an Egyptian or an East German.

I asked a nurse what sort of supplies the hospital was most in need of.

Her answer: “Food.”

Biafra had a George Washington — for three Christmases and a little bit more. He was and is Odumegwu Ojukwu. Like George Washington, General Ojukwu was one of the most prosperous men of his place and time. He was a graduate of Sandhurst, Britain’s West Point. The three of us spent an hour with him. He shook our hands at the end. He thanked us for coming. “If we go forward, we die,” he said. “If we go backward, we die. So we go forward.” He was ten years younger than Vance and me. I found him perfectly enchanting. Many people mock him now. They think he should have died with his troops.

Maybe so.

If he had died, he would have been one more corpse in millions.

He was a calm, heavy man when we met him. He chainsmoked. Cigarettes were worth a blue million in this country. He wore a camouflage jacket, though he was sitting in a cool living room in a velveteen easy chair. “I should warn you,” he said, “we are in range of their artillery.” His humor was gallows humor, since everything was falling apart around his charisma and air of quiet confidence. His humor was superb. Later, when we met his second-in-command, General Philip Effiong, he, too, turned out to be a gallows humorist. Vance said this: “Effiong should be the Number two man. He’s the second funniest man in this country.”

Jokes.

Miriam was annoyed by my conversation at one point, and she said scornfully, “You won’t open your mouth unless you can make a joke.” It was true. Joking was my response to misery I couldn’t do anything about. The jokes of Ojukwu and Effiong had to do with the crime for which the their people were being punished so hideously by so many nations. The crime: They were attempting to become a nation themselves. “They call us a dot on the map,” said General Ojukwu, “and nobody’s sure quite where.” Inside that dot were 700 lawyers, 500 physicians, 300 engineers, 8 million poets, 2 novelists of the first rank, and God only knows what else — about one-third of all the black intellectuals in Africa. Some dot. Those intellectuals had once fanned out all over Nigeria, where they had been envied and lynched and massacred. So they retreated to their homeland, to the dot. The dot has now vanished. Hey, presto.

 

When we met General Ojukwu, his soldiers were going into battle with thirty-five rounds of rifle ammunition. There was no more where that came from. For weeks before that, they had been living on one cup of gari a day. The recipe for gari is this: Add water to pulverized cassava root. Now the soldiers didn’t even have gari anymore. General Ojukwu described a typical Nigerian attack for us: “They pound a position with artillery for twenty-four hours, th2en they send forward one armored car. If anybody shoots at it, it retreats, and another twenty-four hours of bombardment begins. When the infantry moves forward, they drive a screen of refugees before them.”

We asked him what was becoming of the refugees now in Nigerian hands. He had no jokes on this subject. He said leadenly that the men, women, and children were formed into three groups, which were led away separately. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said, “as to what happens after that,” and he paused. Then he finished the sentence: “To the men and the women and the children.” We were given private rooms and baths in what had been a teachers’ college in Owerri, the capital. The town had been captured by the Nigerians, and then, in the one great victory of the war, recaptured. We were taken to a training camp near Owerri. The soldiers had no live ammunition. In mock attacks, the riflemen shouted, “Bang!” The machine gunners shouted, “Bup-bup-bup!”And the officer who showed us around, also a graduate of Sandhurst, said, “There wouldn’t be all this fuss, you know, if it weren’t for the petroleum.” He was speaking of the vast oil field beneath our feet. We asked him who owned the oil, and I expected him to say ringingly that it was the property of his people now. But he didn’t.

“We never nationalized it,” he said. “It still belongs to British Petroleum and Shell.” He wasn’t bitter. I never met a bitter citizen. General Ojukwu gave us a clue, I think, as to why the people of this country were able to endure so much so long without bitterness: They all had the emotional and spiritual strength that an enormous family can give. We asked the general to tell us about his family, and he answered that it was three thousand members strong. He knew every member of it by face, by name, and by reputation. A more typical family might consist of a few hundred souls. And there were no orphanages, no old people’s homes, no public charities and, early in the war, there weren’t even schemes for taking care of refugees. The families took care of their own, perfectly naturally. The families were rooted in land. There was no citizen so poor that he did not own a garden.

Lovely.

Families met often, men and women alike, to vote on family matters. When war came, there was no conscription. The families decided who should go. In happier times, the families voted on who should go to college to study what and where. Then everybody chipped in for clothes and transportation and tuition. The first person from the area to be sponsored by his family all the way through graduate school was a physician, who received his doctor’s degree in 1938. Thus began a mania for higher education of all kinds. This mania probably did more to doom them than any quantity of petroleum. When Nigeria became a nation in 1960, formed from two British colonies, they was part of it—-and they got the best jobs in industry and the civil service and the hospitals and the schools, because they were so well educated. They were hated for that—perfectly naturally. It was peaceful in Owerri at first. It took us a few days to catch on: Not only Owerri but all of the country was about to fall. Even as we arrived, government offices nearby were preparing to move. I learned something: Capitals can fall almost silently. Nobody warned us. Everybody we talked to smiled. And the smile we saw most frequently belonged to Dr. B. N. Unachukwu, the chief of protocol in the Ministry of Affairs. Think of that: the country was so poor in allies at the end that the chief of protocol had nothing better to do than woo two novelists and an English teacher, He made lists of appointments we had with ministers and writers and educators and so on. He sent around a car each morning, with a chauffeur and guide. And then we caught on: His smile and everybody’s smile was becoming slightly sicker with each passing day. On our fifth day in there, there was no Dr. Unachukwu, no chauffeur, and no guide.

We waited and waited on our porches. Chinua Achebe, the young novelist, came by. We asked him if he had any news. He said he didn’t listen to news anymore. He didn’t smile. He seemed to be listening to something melancholy and maybe beautiful, far far away. I had a novel of his; Things Fall Apart He autographed it for me. “I would invite you to my house,” he said, “but we don’t have anything.” A truck went by, loaded with office furniture. All the trucks had names painted on their sides. The name of that one was Slow to Anger. “There must be some news,” I insisted.

“News?” he echoed. He thought. Then he said dreamily, “They have just found a mass grave outside the prison wall.” There had been a rumor, he explained, that the Nigerians had shot a lot of civilians while they’d held Owerri. Now the graves had been found. “Graves,” said Chinua Achebe. He found them uninteresting.

“What are you writing now?” said Miriam.

“Writing?” he said. It was obvious that he wasn’t writing anything, that he was simply waiting for the end. “A dirge in Ibo,” he said. Ibo was his native tongue.

An extraordinarily pretty girl named Rosemary Egonsu Ezirim came over to introduce herself. She was a zoologist. She had been working on a project that hoped to turn the streams into fish hatcheries. “The project has been suspended temporarily,” she said, “so I am writing poems.”

“All projects have been suspended temporarily,” said Chinua, “so we are all writing poems.”

Leonard Hall, of the Manchester Guardian, stopped by. He said, “You know, the closest parallel to what this country is going through was the Jews in the Warsaw ghetto.” He was right. The Jews of Warsaw understood that they were going to get killed, no matter what they did, so they died fighting.

The Biafrans kept telling the outside world that Nigeria wanted to kill them all, but the outside world was unimpressed.

“It’s hard to prove genocide,” said Hall. “If some survive, then genocide hasn’t been committed. If no one survives, who will complain?”

 

A male refugee came up to us, rubbed his belly with one hand, begged with the other. He rolled his eyes.

“No chop,” we said. That meant, “No food.” That was what one said to beggars. Then a healthy girl offered us a quart of honey for three pounds. As I’ve already said, the economy was free enterprise to the end.

It was a lazy day.

We asked Rosemary about a round, bright-orange button she was wearing. “Daughters of Biafra,” it said. “Wake! March!” In the middle was a picture of a rifle.

Rosemary explained that Daughters supported the troops in various ways, comforted the wounded, and practiced guerrilla warfare. “We go up into the front lines when we can,” she said. “We bring the men small presents. If they haven’t been doing well, we scold them, and they promise to do better. We tell them that they will know when things are really bad, because the women will come into the trenches to fight. Women are much stronger and braver than men.”

Maybe so.

“Chinua, what can we send you when we get back home?” said Vance.

And Chinua said, “Books.”

“Rosemary,” I said, “where do you live?”

“In a dormitory room not far from here. Would you like to see it?” she said.

So Vance and I walked over there with her, to stretch our legs. On the way, we marveled at a squash court built of cement block—built, no doubt, in colonial times. It had been turned into a Swiss cheese by armor-piercing cannon shells. There was a naked child in the doorway, and her hair was red. She seemed very sleepy, and the light hurt her eyes.

“Hello, Father,” she said.

All of Owerri seemed out for a walk on either side of the street in single file. The files moved in opposite directions and circulated about the town. There was no place in particular for most of us to go. We were simply the restless center of the dot on the map called Biafra, and the dot, was growing smaller all the time.

We strolled past a row of neat bungalows. Civil servants lived there. Each house had a car out front, a VW, an Opel, a Peugeot.

There was plenty of gasoline, because they had built cunning refineries in the bush. There weren’t many storage batteries, though. Most private cars had to be started by pushing.

 

Outside one bungalow was an Opel station wagon with its back full of parcels and with a bed and a baby carriage tied on top. The man of the house was testing the knots he’d tied, while his wife stood by with the baby in her arms. They were going on a family trip to nowhere. We gave them a push.

A soldier awarded Vance and me a salute and a dazzling smile. “Comment ça pa?” he said. He supposed we were Frenchmen. He liked us for that. France had slipped a few weapons to them. So had Rhodesia and South Africa, and so had Israel, I suspect.

“We will accept help from anyone,” General Ojukwu told us, “no matter what their reasons are for giving it. Wouldn’t you?”

Rosemary lived in a twelve-by-twelve dormitory room with her five younger brothers and sisters, who had come to see her over the Christmas holidays. Rosemary and her seventeen-year-old sister had the bed. The rest slept on mats on the floor, and everybody was having an awfully good time.

There was plenty to eat. There were about twenty pounds of yams piled on the windowsill. There was a quart of palm oil for frying yams. Palm oil, incidentally, was one of two commodities that had induced white men to colonize the area so long ago. The other commodity was even more valuable than palm oil. It was human slaves.

Think of that: slaves.

We asked Rosemary’s sister how long it took her to fix her hair and whether she could do it without assistance. She had about fourteen pigtails sticking straight out from her head. Not only that, but her scalp was crisscrossed by bare strips, which formed diamonds—strips around the hair in the pigtails. Her head was splendidly complicated, like a Russian Easter egg.

“Oh, no, I could never do it alone,” she said. Her relatives did it for her every morning. It took them an hour, she said.

Relatives.

She was an innocent, pretty dumpling in a metropolis for the first time. Her village hadn’t been overrun yet. Her big, cozy family hadn’t been scattered to the winds. There were peace and plenty there.

“I think we must be the luckiest people in this country,” she said.

Rosemary’s sister still had her baby fat.

And now, as I write, I hear from my radio that there was a lot of raping when the Nigerian army came through, that one woman who resisted was drenched with gasoline and then set on fire.

I have cried only once about this country. I did it three days after I got home, at two o’clock in the morning. I made grotesque little barking sounds for about a minute and a half, and that was that.

Miriam tells me that she hasn’t cried yet. She’s tough about the ways of the world.

 

Vance cried at least once, while we were still in the country. When little children took hold of his fingers and stopped crying, Vance burst into tears.

Wounded soldiers were living in Rosemary’s dormitory, too. As I left her room, I tripped on her doorsill, and a wounded soldier in the corridor said brightly, “Sorry, sah” This was a form of politeness I had never encountered outside this country. Whenever I did something clumsy or unlucky, someone was sure to say that: “Sorry, sah!” He would be genuinely sorry. He was on my side, and against a bloody trapped universe.

Vance came into the corridor, dropped the lens cap of his camera. “Sorry, sah! said the soldier again, We asked him if life has been terrible at the front. “Yes, sah!”he said. “But you remind yourself that you are a brave soldier, sah, and you stay.”

A dinner party was given in our honor that night by Dr. Ifegwu Eke, the commissioner for education, and his wife. They had been married four days. He had a doctor’s degree from Harvard. She had a doctor’s degree from Columbia. There were five other guests. They all had doctor’ degrees. We were inside a bungalow. The draperies were drawn.

There was a Danish modern sideboard on which primitive African carvings were displayed. There was a stereo phonic phonograph as big as a boxcar. It was playing the music of Mantovani. One of the syrupy melodies, remember, was “Born Free.”

There were canapes. There was a sip of brandy to loosen our tongues. There was a buffet dinner, which included bits of meat from a small native antelope. It was dreadful in the way so many parties are dreadful: Everybody talked about everything except what was really on his mind.

The guest to my right was Dr. S. I. S. Cookey, who had taken his degree at Oxford and who was now provincial administrator for Opobo Province. He was exhausted. His eyes were red. Opobo Province had fallen to the Nigerians months ago. Others were chatting prettily, so I ransacked my mind for items that might encourage Dr. Cookey and me to bubble, too. But all I could think of were gruesome realities of the most immediate sort. It occurred to me to ask him, for instance, if there was a chance that one thing that had killed so many citizens was the arrogance of the intellectuals. My mind was eager to ask him, too, if I had been a fool to be charmed by General Ojukwu. Was he yet another great leader who would never surrender, who became holier and more radiant as his people died for him?

So I turned to cement. I remained cement through the rest of the evening, and so did Dr. Cookey; Vance and Miriam and I had a drink in Miriam’s room after the party. Owerri’s diesel generator had gone off for the night, so we lit a candle.

Miriam commented on my behavior at the party.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t come for canapes.

 

What did we eat in this struggling country? As guests of the government, we had meat and yams and soups and fruit. It was embarrassing. Whenever we told a cadaverous beggar “No chop,” it wasn’t really true. We had plenty of chop, but it was all in our bellies. There was a knock on Miriam’s door that night. Three men came in. We were astonished. One of them was General Philip Effiong, the second funniest man in the country. He had a tremblingly devoted aide with him, who saluted him ten times a minute, though the general begged him not to. The third man was a suave and dapper civilian in white pants and sandals and a crimson dashiki. He was Mike Ikenze, personal press secretary to General Ojukwu.

The young general was boisterous, wry, swashbuckling, high as a kite on incredibly awful news from the fronts. Why did he come to see us? Here is my guess: He couldn’t tell his own people how bad things were, and he had somebody. We were the only foreigners around. He talked for three hours. The Nigerians had broken through everywhere. They were fanning out fast, slicing the dot on the map into dozens of littler ones. Inside some of these littler dots, hiding in the bush, were tens of sands of people who had not eaten anything for weeks and more. What had become of the brave soldiers? They were woozy with hunger. They were palsied by shock. They had left their holes. They were wandering.

General Effiong threw up his hands. “It’s over!” he cried, and he gave a laugh that was ghoulish and broken.

He was wrong, of course. The world is about as un-shockable as a self-sealing gas tank.

We didn’t hear guns until the next afternoon. At five o’clock sharp there were four quick peals of thunder to the south. The thunder was manmade. No shells came our way.

The birds stopped talking. Five minutes went by, and they began talking again.’

The government offices were all empty. So were the bungalows. We were waiting for Dr. Unachukwu to take us to Uli Airport, the only way out. The common people had stayed to the last, buying and selling and begging— doing each other’s hair.

They, too, stopped talking when they heard the guns. We could see many of them from our porches. They did not start talking again. They gathered together their property, which they put on their heads. They walked out of Owerri wordlessly, away from the guns.

Dr. Unachukwu, our official host, did not come, and did not call. It was spooky in Owerri. We were now the only people there. We didn’t hear the guns again. Their words to the wise were sufficient.

Owerri’s diesel generator was still running. That was another thing I learned about a city falling silently: To fool the enemy for a little while, you leave the lights on.

Dr. Unachukwu came. He was frantic to be on his way, but he smiled and smiled. He was at the wheel of his own Mercedes. The back of it was crammed with boxes and suitcases. On top of the freight lay his eight year-old son.

I have written all this quickly. I find that I have betrayed my promise to speak of the greatness rather than the pitifulness of the this great people. I have mourned the children copiously. I have told of a woman who was drenched in gasoline.

As for national greatness: It is probably true that all nations are great and even holy at the time of death.

This country had never fought before. They fought well this time. They will never fight again.

They will never play Finlandia on an ancient marimba again.

Peace.

My neighbors ask me what they can do for the country at this late date, or what they should have done for her at some earlier date.

I tell them this: “Nothing. It was and is an internal Nigerian matter, which you can merely deplore.”

Some wonder whether they, in order to be up to date, should hate Nigerians now.

I tell them, “no.”

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Anambra Got Talent, A Complete Success

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Anambra Got TalentThe name that will linger on the lips of all is ANAMBRA GOT TALENT

The grand finale of the most celebrated event, Anambra Got Talent, the Maiden edition organized by Slami Empire took place at Emmaus House, Awka on the 7th of August, 2015.

Anambra Got Talent
From left to right: Maduekwe Sharon (AGT official red carpet host), Chris Okagbue (AGT official judge) and Nwolisa-Samson JayJay (AGT red carpet co-host, FrienditeTV Presenter)

The red carpet started by 9pm and it was handled by the media partner of the event, FrienditeTV with Samson-Nwolisa JayJay (FrienditeTV Presenter) and Maduekwe Sharon (the event red carpet Presenter).

The show as expected was a success, with talents from the various parts of Anambra competing for the star prize, a car and one year endorsement deal.

The judges looked radiant in their beautiful smiles ready to pick just 1 winner, the best talent of all talent. Chris Okagbue, Brainy, Ken Erics, Collette Nwadike, and others were the judges at the event.

Anambra Got Talent

Anambra Got Talent
From left to right: Madueke Sharon, Collette Nwadike (AGT official judge and Nwolisa-Samson JayJay)

Uti Nwachukwu, who was the main Host of the event, didn’t fail to impress the audience with his eloquent speech. He also won the heart of the audience with his offer of ten thousand naira to the best talent from the audience, this was won by Prince Neche, a comedian.

Anambra Got Talent
From left to right: Prince Neche (comedian), Uti Nwachukwu (AGT official Host), Slami (AGT Oganizer) and a groupie

Anambra Got Talent

The battle for the best talent was not an easy one as it became obvious that Anambra really got talents. Singers, Comedians, Actors, Dancers, and so many other abstract acts graced the stage of the 700-seater hall of Emmaus House. The crowd was wowed and cheers filled the arena as different acts displayed on the stage.

Anambra Got Talent

Surely and finally, after much deliberation by the impartial judges a winner was picked among the 5 finalists. The winner of the Maiden Edition of Anambra Got Talent was a dance group, OMEGA INSPIRED and they walked away with a car and one year endorsement deal as grand prize.

Anambra Got Talent

Anambra Got Talent
From left to right: Orjika Francis (CEO, Bionic Media), Uti Nwachukwu and Slami

In attendance were CEOs of different companies; Orjika Francis (CEO, BIONIC MEDIA), Ezike Divine (CEO, LASGIDEE ENTERTAINMENT), Queen Amaechi Adamma Amanda (Miss Ideal Anambra and CEO, AMEENA TATTOOS), CEO – MUZIKPLUS.com,etc

All this was made possible due to the effort of the organizer, SLAMI EMPIRE, A-list entertainers, dancers, models, singers and the Anambra Got Talent team (#TeamAGT); ChrisNX, Slimshady, Buchi, Uchay, Jessie, Sharon, Elarh, Paschal, ItxLexie and the FrienditeTV crew.

Anambra Got Talent

 

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Too far to reach

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Too far to reachMehn, i can’t stop asking myself if it’s safe to actually fall in love like this, i haven’t seen you in 3 days and it seems like years. I’ve tried calling your number but i keep getting that computerized voice on the MTN networking, with the same annoying sentence, “The MTN number you’re trying to call is currently switched off please try again later”. i used to think the whole love thing was just an older version of the too far to reachSanta Claus story, you know the one we were told as children. But you never actually see the man with the red cloth and a white beard … And then Khocee wrote an article, the fear of rejection which made me see that love is a leap but then again the question still remains, am I ready to jump? And even if I am,are you? …. Too far to reach

Too far to reach

I’ve always known how to write my emotions down, but never how to say them I mean nobody writes love letters anymore, everything is electronic  but that’s a story for another day.  what i feel is like gravity.. It’s like my whole center shifts.. Like I can be anything or everything you’ll ever need  I know most of you will be like, ask her out already and save yourself the horror… It’s not that simple see there are a lot of factors affecting the rate of this reaction, and I’m not just trying to be smart… Too far to reach

So it’s 3:00 am in the morning and i wake up unexpectedly, as i turned to check the time on my phone i see the missed call icon, it said you called at 12:59 am . Which if I’m allowed to say is ”our usual time”…[she’ll understand, it’s a vampire thing]. So i sent you a text and you texted back, we go on for an hour and suddenly you’re not that far after all… it’s amazing how i could picture you smiling while texting, i don’t mean to brag but i do always have a way of making you smile… oh the irony, you’re actually more than 100miles away.. but now i feel like you aren’t… Too far to reach

Too far to reach

 

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Complaints and Excuses!

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Complaints
Complaints & Excuses

The world today is encumbered with people whose only function is creating complaints and excuses. I just want to try and express my take on this infraction through this work of art I penned.

I turn my neck to the right

You complain about it

Turn the same to the left

You complain about it

Funny, you seem to complain about everything I do,

But forget that in complaining, you’re talking more than you should

So, who’s gonna complain about that?

And, if someone did, wouldn’t it form a cycle if I complained about the person complaining?

Complaints & Excuses

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind

So don’t fake a smile if you frown in your mind

Now talking ’bout excuses, they draw you into a mure

Cos an excuse is a foundation on which one builds a house of failure

Yeah, I made a mistake, let me just give an excuse

Hehe! Funny cos I just made two mistakes

See, an excuse is a disease which plagues the will

Sure it gives you that “I’m free” feel

But let’s look at it in the long term

No one would have crossed the ocean if he could have gotten off the ship in the storm

Excuses are lies invented on the spur of the moment

Wouldn’t it be better if we just admitted our faults and gave no comment?

Well, change is always an undo-it-yourself project

So don’t go hiding in your closet

Live your life as an exclamation, not an explanation

Cos the more you complain, the less you’ll obtain.

Before you make an excuse, ask yourself “Is this really what I’m going to do? Am I really going to accept that things happened because of this excuse or would I take charge and change things for the better?”

You shouldn’t spend your life complaining and giving excuses for everything when you know you can effect change. Live for more, dare for more, be more!!

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Profiling Audu Maikori, Choc.City Boss at 40

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audu maikoriAUDU MAIKORI, FOUNDER & PRESIDENT OF CHOCOLATE CITY GROUP.

Audu Maikori is a Nigerian legal counsel, business visionary (entrepreneur) and social extremist. He is best known as the Founder of Chocolate City Music Group which involves 4 distinct organizations. Audu Maikori’s Chocolate City is one of the greatest record labels in Africa serving to control the professions of several artistes including Asa, Djinee, MI, Jesse Jagz, Ice Prince, Nosa, and so on. It has expanded its operations to South Africa of which I believe it could be regarded as Africa’s biggest and most successful music label.

A multi-award winning business visionary and innovative industry expert, Audu soon tackled the part of social activism by subsidizing and taking an interest in an assortment of youth strengthening ventures. He was a key individual from the Enough is Enough rally in 2010 which is remarkable for tending to poor administration issues in Nigeria, amid which he had a face-off with Nigerian military police, when he declined to withdraw when a rifle was pointed at him in an offer to prevent him from driving the serene challenge to the doors of the National Assembly.

Audu Maikori is additionally a much looked for after open speaker and has travelled generally to talk on the inventive business in different fora including instructive foundations, for example, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Oxford University and in addition the prestigious Pan African University.

Audu Maikori is likewise well known in Nigeria as a previous Nigerian Idol judge and has been contrasted with Simon Cowell because of his extreme position on hopefuls amid trials.

YNaija Magazine, one of the leading youth influencers, named Audu one of the most powerful people in Nigerian Entertainment Industry in March 2014.

HIS EARLY LIFE

Audu Maikori was conceived on the thirteenth of August, 1975 and he is the third of five youngsters, he was destined to a Christian family and hails from Kwoi, Jaba Local Government, Kaduna. Jaba Local government is really known as the home of the Nok Culture. He experienced childhood in Lagos with his parents Adamu Maikori, a lawyer-politician and mother Laiatu Gyet Maude, a princess of the antiquated Jaba regal crew. He went to Adrao International School and King’s College in the witness of getting his Law degree from the University of Jos. He later acquired his Bachelor of Laws (B.L) from the Law school Abuja and youth administration. In 2014, he was accepted as a Fellow of the Nigerian Leadership Institute (NLI) in November at the NLI-YALE Leadership Conference which held at the Yale Campus in New Haven.

HIS CAREER

In 2001, Audu Maikori and business accomplice Paul Okeugo framed the Guild of Artistes and Poets, a non-benefit expressions society meant for empowering inventiveness in Abuja, which has held workmanship displays alongside joint efforts with the French Cultural Center. It was through GAP that he met with a scope of artistes and began rendering free legitimate administrations striving for artistes. After two years, Maikori registered Chocolate City – a record label, recording studio, events consultancy, and artiste management organization – with profit from his reward quarterly, and enrolled Okeugo and sibling Yahaya (who is likewise co-proprietor of Maikori’s Chinese eatery Oriental Express) as chiefs on the board. The organization has various artistes on its books, including M.I, Jesse Jagz, and Ice Prince, Pryse, Nosa, Dj Caise.audu maikori

Maikori, is an individual from the Chartered Institute of Arbitrators UK, International Association of Entertainment Lawyers, the Nigerian Bar Association and International Bar Association (IBA). Maikori cut his teeth as an Associate with the case slanted firm of Chief Afe Babalola SAN & Co. also, worked from that point as Legal Advisor to Leasing Company of Nigeria (an auxiliary of Bank of Industry,Nigeria, and organization secretary of Abuja Markets Management Limited (a backup of Abuja Investment and Property organization) all before the age of 30. In 2002, he collaborated with his senior sibling Yahaya Maikori to begin Law Allianz, a firm of legitimate professionals situated in Lagos and Abuja which concentrated on Intellectual property, gaming and additionally key privatization exchange admonitory administrations. Maikori was in a piece of the legitimate group for key national base activities, for example, the Lagos Rail Mass Transit venture, Abuja Mass Transit venture, Kano Mass travel venture in 2011.

In 2006, Maikori was designated Senior Legal advisor with CPCS Transcom International, a Canadian framework firm, where he chipped away at the legitimate and administrative parts of privatization exchanges including the Nigeria Ports Authority, Nigerian Railway Corporation, unbundling and privatization of PHCN. He spoke to Nigeria in the UNIDROIT Sub-Committee of administrative specialists for the planning of a preparatory draft Protocol to the Convention on International Interests in Mobile Equipment on Matters particular to Space Assets in 2005.

In May 2007, Audu Maikori co-organized the first Nigerian International Music Summit for building up a lawful and administrative system for the Nigerian music industry in March 2007. More than 400 music industry partners drawn from all over Nigeria attended the occasion. His faith in the imaginative businesses of Nigeria and Africa made him a representative and coach for some adolescent in and around Nigeria.

In 2012, after a corporate rebuild, another element Chocolate City Group was framed with prestigious business person and attorney Hakeem Bello-Osagie joining the board as Chairman. Four organizations were framed to constitute the gathering in particular Chocolate City Music, Chocolate City Media, Chocolate City Distribution and STM with Audu selected as CEO of the Group.

Audu Maikori has gotten both neighborhood and worldwide acclamations for his work in adding to the adolescents including being welcomed to Albania in 2008 to convey a keynote discourse at a course sorted out by the Albania Ministry of Youth and Employment, Minister of society and British Council.

In 2010, Maikori was a piece of the Enough is Enough crusade which saw a large number of Nigerians dissent against issues, for example, framework failings, fuel deficiencies and force power outages that thought about severely the administration’s push to give the fundamental courtesy to it’s subjects. In a generally serene four-hours dissent, they walked to the National Assembly in Abuja, conveying bulletins, wearing T-shirts which expressed “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH“, and conveying a letter laying out their requests. Maikori turned into the substance of Enough is Enough after a police cautioned him to withdraw or be shot; Maikori declined to withdraw and challenged the officer to shoot. He later drove alternate nonconformists to walk on calmly to make their challenges heard by the National Assembly.

On 13 February 2012, Audu Maikori was selected an individual for the Presidential Committee on the Subsidy Reinvestment and Empowerment Program ( SURE-P); the board individuals were hand-picked by President Goodluck Jonathan to manage and guarantee the successful and convenient usage of discriminating framework and social wellbeing tasks to be financed with  reserved funds accumulating to the government from endowment evacuation. Maikori was the most youthful individual from the board of trustees.

COPYRIGHT ACTIVISM

In May 2012 Maikori was elected to serve as a member of the board of COSON. On 20 May 2010, COSON was given the certificate of approval by the Nigerian Copyright Commission (NCC) to be Nigeria’s sole government licensed collective management organization for musical works and sound recordings. Maikori was one of the brains behind the lobby for the NCC to officially appoint a CMO to collect royalties for songwriters and performers after 13 years of the NCC failing to settle the dispute between the MCSN and PMRS, both de-registered CMOs which had been embroiled in legal battles for supremacy for years. His appointment has been lauded as a right step in the right direction by music industry stakeholders.

AWARDS HE HAS WON

Audu Maikori has won a series of awards, below are a few;

  • International Young Music Entrepreneur of the Year2007 (Nigeria)
  • International Young Music Entrepreneur of the Year2007 (Global Winner)
  • Entertainment Executive of the year 2011 by the Nigerian Entertainment Award (NEA)
  • Winner – Award for outstanding award in Music and Entertainment by the National Youth Merit Awards 2011
  • Young Entrepreneur of the Year (2011) – Diaspora Professionals Award 2011
  • Mentor of the Year – 2010- Enterprise Foundation)
  • Creative Entrepreneur of the Year for Music – 2011- CIAN
  • Winner – African Awards for Entrepreneurship 2011.
  • Entertainment Executive of the Year – 2012- Nigerian Reunion Corporation

Audu Maikori received a special judge’s commendation at the finale of the International Young Music Entrepreneur of the Year where he beat nine other contenders to win the global award in June 2007. At the inaugural edition of the United Kingdom Young Music Entrepreneur 2008, Maikori was nominated to serve as a judge alongside four other British music industry judges, making him the first black judge for a major British Music industry competition.

audu maikori
Audu and wife, Zel Maikori

On 19th March 2011, he was recognized by City People Magazine for his outstanding contribution to the Nigerian music industry.

Although Mr. Audu Maikori likes to keep his private life out of the media he stated in an interview that his wife, Zel Umunna Maikori is one of the greatest blessings that has happened to him in this life.

audu maikori
Audu Maikori & the new Chocolate City Music CEO, Jude MI Abaga

Well after 10 years, Mr. Maikori stepped down as CEO of Chocolate City Music on June 30th 2015 through an announcement on his twitter page by 5:00pm while categorically stating that Mr. Jude Lemfani Abaga will assume the position of the new CEO, Chocolate City Music.

I was actually going through Mr. Audu Maikori’s Instagram page with my friend and colleague, Henry Chestnut Ezikeoha (Brand Manager of Friendite Global Limited) and he had a few things to say,

He has actually said on an interview that he started the ‘entertainment hustle’ way-back in the University days with Paul Okeugo. He also has a great sense of fashion as can be seen on his Instagram page making me label him ‘a Classic man’.

‘Boss e no go bad if you bless your boy with some piece’

From the team (Friendite Global Limited) and most especially the Brand Manager we wish you a bountiful Happy 40th Birthday Sir… Cheers!!!

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Straight Outta Anywhere… How It All Started

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Straight

 

Straight Outta Anywhere…

Straight Outta Compton, the 1988 N.W.A album that sparked the ‘Straight Outta’ parody is now officially onscreen. The biopic movie Straight Outta Compton which was released on the 11th of August 2015 and is set for theatrical release today the 14th of August 2015 features the N.W.A story  from inception to growing success and stardom until the eventual disbanding.

The album Straight Outta Compton was released 27 years before now on the 9th of August 1988 under the record label Ruthless Records and was produced by Dr. Dre & DJ Yella. It redefined the direction of hip hop which resulted in lyrics concerning the gangster lifestyle becoming the driving force in sales figures. It reached double platinum sales status with no airplay support and without any major tours. The album has a total of 18 tracks; the original 1988 album containing 13 while the rest were released in two reissuings of the album, one in 2002 and another in 2007. The album single of the same name Straight Outta Compton is currently ranked as number 6 on VH1’s 100 greatest songs of hip hop.

Straight Outta Compton

Straight Outta Compton is a 2015 American biographical drama film directed by F. Gary Gray. The film revolves around the rise and fall of the Compton, California hip hop group N.W.A, and borrows its title from the name of N.W.A’s 1988 debut studio album. The film is being released today August 14, 2015.

On February 8, 2015, Universal Studios released the first official trailer. The red band trailer was preceded by an introduction featuring N.W.A members Dr. Dre and Ice Cube. A second global trailer for Straight Outta Compton was released on April 1, 2015 and attached with theatrical screenings of Universal’s Furious 7.

Straight

On August 7, 2015, Dr. Dre released the album Compton: A Soundtrack by Dr. Dre exclusively on Apple Music and the iTunes Store. Though not an official soundtrack to the film Straight Outta Compton, Dr. Dre said this album would be “inspired by the movie,” “During principal photography of Straight Outta Compton, I felt myself going to the studio and being so inspired by the movie that I started recording an album,” Dre said on The Pharmacy, his radio show on Beats 1. “It’s an ‘inspired by’ album. It’s inspired by Straight Outta Compton.” Dr. Dre says he will donate royalties from his new album to the city of Compton for a new performing arts facility.

The same day, to help promote the film, Beats by Dre launched a new app through the website StraightOuttaSomewhere.com. The app allows users to create a meme by uploading a picture with the “Straight Outta” logo and fill in the blank with a location of their choice. Some people did proclaimed that they were “Straight Outta” a certain city or locale while others uploaded funny images and phrases. In under 24 hours, over 78,000 “Straight Outta” images were uploaded on social media sites. Inquisitr.com proclaimed, “It’s a successful viral photo campaign that is definitely bringing attention to the movie Straight Outta Compton.”

Straight

Straight Outta…

N.W.A (an abbreviation of Niggaz Wit Attitudes) was an American hip hop group from Compton, California that is widely considered to have been among the earliest and most significant popularizers of the gangsta rap and West Coast hip hop subgenres while also being credited by many as one of the seminal groups in the history of hip hop music. Active from 1986 to 1991, the rap group endured controversy owing to their music’s explicit lyrics that many viewed as being disrespectful of women, as well as its glorification of drugs, and crime. The group was subsequently banned from many mainstream American radio stations. In spite of this, the group has sold over 10 million units in the United States alone. The group was also known for their deep hatred of the police system, which sparked much controversy over the years.

The original lineup consisted of Arabian Prince, DJ Yella, Dr. Dre, Eazy-E, and Ice Cube. MC Ren joined in 1988, with Arabian Prince leaving the group later that same year. Ice Cube left the group in December 1989 over royalty disputes. Several members would later become platinum-selling solo artists in the 1990s. Their debut album Straight Outta Compton marked the beginning of the new gangsta rap era as the production and social commentary in their lyrics were revolutionary within the genre. Rolling Stone ranked N.W.A number 83 on their list of the “100 Greatest Artists of All Time.” In October 2012, N.W.A were nominated for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for the first time. In October 2013 the group was nominated for a second time.

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Children Get To Sway, Why?

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Children

Children Sway… Why?

There are many causes as to why children ‘sway’ and I have sway in parenthesis because only the parent sees it as deviation from a path; the child doesn’t.

I would touch only two causes; the two that have mostly affected me as a child.

Children1: They don’t like being bossed around

 

If there’s anything that spooks a child towards becoming disputant towards authority, it’s an over-protective parent. Parents who are this way are well-meaning, future-concerned, caring parents. They only want to produce a disciplined child; a height many try to achieve but some climb the wrong ladder. Many parents go to the extreme trying to teach their children discipline and so they unconsciously give out a distorted image of how authority is meant to be used to the child’s psyche. Now God is a clever, loving Father who built us up with the capabilities to adapt to and overcome challenges; whether we adapt to or overcome whatever we are faced with therefore depends on us. So children get to utilise this ability during adolescence especially, that is when they start spawning veto power; after solemn sessions of thought, they decide to dispute every authority that has ever undermined them or made them tremble, they decide to test the limits of their own strength and see what and what they can overcome. It’s almost like they are packing up to embark on life’s journey and so want to know what they should adapt to and what they should challenge should they encounter it in the future. So, bossing them around is a sure way to set them up for rebellion in the future.

Children

2. They don’t appreciate neglect

 

Children really don’t appreciate neglect. Although the manifestation occurs when they are grown, it is as a result of an accumulation of feelings from experiences of neglect. All the times parents left on long business trips and came home brandishing toys to compensate for their lost time instead of spending ample time with the kids. Some parents don’t realise it but they appreciate other children more than they do their own kids, this is one of the things I suffered as a kid. Thank God I understand that life is not to be governed by feelings else being a rebel would be the least of my parents’ worries right now. Yes, I love my parents unconditionally, but what do I do with all the pain I feel inside? Do I deny the fact that I feel anything at all and just put on a smiling face while I’m crying inside? I’m not really a fan of pretence when it comes to serious issues like this one. Parents have to learn to spend considerable time with their kids and understand that these children need their approval and acknowledgement.

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Law and Grace – The Paradox

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Law

The Law & Grace

Well I’m going into Christianity; any disputant to my choice should checkout Romans 1:16.

Talking of the law and Grace, many churches today still don’t understand the distinction between both. Some think they are the same thing while some try to fix Grace under law.

The Law

The law, the real law was given by God. Only one man ever knew what was stated in that contract and he broke all the clauses; Moses is that man. Immediately after receiving the laws from God on both sides of two tablets of stone, he descended from the mountain only to see the Israelites worshiping a golden calf. His anger waxed hot and he broke the two tablets at the foot of the mountain; then the order was given for all who were not on the Lord’s side to be slain and an estimate of 3000 people died. Moses was then required to mete out his own laws and engrave them on two tablets on stone just like the first; those stipulations are what we now know as the 10 commandments. Due to this, many people today argue that Moses is the real accuser of the brethren; I think that to be a lie. The devil is the real accuser; he just accuses us on the grounds of Moses’ laws.

Law

Grace

The real meaning of Grace has been obscured by the devil. Grace as we know it today is undeserved pardon for sins committed; this is a misconception of evolution; so then, what is Grace really? Grace is love unrestricted. God loves you and me so much that He sent down his own Son to carry all of our sins; past, present and future upon him when he died upon the cross. Does this mean He gave us the license to commit any type of sin since it’s all been taken care of? No way! What He did for us is that He gave us his place in the Father’s heart; God doesn’t look at me or you now and see our iniquity, because he saw it all when Jesus hung on the cross, and He punished Jesus for all of it. This is the good news that we are commissioned to spread throughout the earth; all your sins have been forgiven, all you have to do is confess Jesus as Lord over your life and believe that He died for you and rose again.­[1] Then live a life free from sin and enjoy God’s Grace to the fullest. If you have the intent of doing that right now, there is no need to procrastinate, Jesus’ arms are stretched out wide open and he won’t turn anyone away who comes to Him for shelter.

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The Pencil, The Paper and The Eraser

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Pencil

 

The Pencil, Paper & Eraser

Life is bridled with diversity. Different people take on different roles. To Wale Adenuga, “We are nothing but pencils in the hands of the creator.” Not everyone is agreed on that notion though.

Some people believe that we are the paper and we have no right to decide what is written and what is erased; we just take whatever we see.

Some would agree that we are the erasers, tools meant to erase whatever written clause we don’t agree with.

Some don’t even believe that a creator exists. They think everything just happens by chance; how delusional.

Howbeit, some people don’t even believe that there is an eraser; their policy is “What is written is written.”

 

But what is the real truth? Does God hold the pencil or does he just oversee the one who does? Does the erasing occur by chance or is it instigated by the pencil’s error? And if it is, then who discerns when the writer makes an error?

Is there a God at all or is it nature that governs all the different processes taking place around us? What is nature? Does it exist? Who created it?

Oh, you just gave a silent answer to that saying “Well God had to create nature.” But what about the atheists who believe that we are all a big accident; subatomic particles colliding to form atoms and so on… I guess everyone is entitled to their own opinions.

These questions can only be completely answered from a divine perspective; every attempt to comprehend them from a human point of view would just prove futile. All we can do is accept the things we cannot change, have the courage to change the things we can and pray for wisdom to know the difference.

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Google changed to Alphabet but game remains same

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Google changed to Alphabet but the game remains the same

Google changed to Alphabet but the game remains the same

Google’s sensation declaration that it’s going to crease itself into another combination called Alphabet has been met with overwhelmingly positive reactions from the money related markets and innovation intellectuals alike. Google changed to Alphabet

Yet there’s more depression than chutzpah in the Alphabet declaration: Google’s genuine issues are auxiliary and can’t be comprehended by corporate fiat, regardless of the fact that the reputation encompassing the Alphabet arrangement can briefly hide Google’s own particular sprawling information imposing business model.

Letters in order – a pleasant case of corporate plastic surgery at work – makes unequivocal what everyone has known for some time: Google’s originators are worn out on and profoundly humiliated by the organization’s center business.

As it were, it additionally reaffirms the exceptionally brutal reality that Google is attempting to subdue: not just is it still only a commercial organization yet it is presently likewise compelled to participate in the sorts of vacant, legalistic traps that may fulfill Wall Street regardless of the fact that they mirror no principal change in how the organization works. Google changed to Alphabet

From this point of view, the Alphabet news must be alarming to any individual who lives up to expectations at Google: after the profoundly humiliating disappointments of Google Glass and Google Plus, the organization’s doomed informal community, Google’s best development comprises of including lawful gleam its corporate structure.

Does anybody truly trust that Alphabet’s self-driving autos, indoor regulators or wellbeing sensors would not exploit the plenty of information produced by Google itself?

The Alphabet non-occasion demonstrates that, in the matter of long haul vital speculations, even an organization as powerful as Google can’t generally do what it needs, needing to pander to the fleeting needs of speculators and fake ordinariness through legitimate rebuilding. Google changed to Alphabet

Divider Street’s blissful response to Google’s capitulation is straightforward, however restraint is certain to situated in soon: none of Google’s basic issues is going without end.

One could just trust that Alphabet would in any event redesign Google’s unique mission to make it more exact: to arrange the world’s data and make it all around open and helpful – in offering promotions. Google changed to Alphabet

Google changed to Alphabet

 

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Illusion, Our Very Own Demon

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illusionsThe Illusion that stares you in the face

Illusion refers to a specific form of sensory distortion. Unlike a hallucination, which is a distortion in the absence of a stimulus, an illusion describes a misinterpretation of a true sensation. For example, hearing voices regardless of the environment would be a hallucination, whereas hearing voices in the sound of running water (or other auditory source) would be an illusion.

Why do we keep letting ourselves remain blind when it is clear that we can see? Why do we throw lapels over darkness and draw it down to block our view when the clarity of the sun is safer? Is it conducive to see a burning bridge and decide to take your horse past it or would you prefer to first put out the blaze in order to have safe passage?

Illusion, Our Very Own Demon… before I continue I must warn you – you are going to be hypnotized. I wanted to just write an article but my dear friend who just got back because I missed her so much and performed a little ritual that brought her back said I should perform the hypnosis on a larger audience. Her name is Dionne Anekwe.

Hi Dionne! *waving at her as she smiles adorably at me*illusion

Questions upon questions cross our minds whenever we come across any turn on this expressway we call ‘life’. Seriously why should I get a vehicle worth 50 million Naira when I can get the one that costs at least 5million Naira? I know some of you would say that that is a dumb question and that I just asked like a poor man, but let’s look at it from this angle;

I am a billionaire. I own a lot of assets and have investments everywhere. It is so obvious that I can ne…ver go poor. So I decided that the society has given me my reward in respect to my hard work so it was time I gave back to the society.

Illusion, Our Very Own Demon…

Now bear in mind that I own a house in the Hamptons, an island in the Bahamas, estate on Banana Island (I want us to get these clear), 180 plots of land in Abuja and several duplex and mansions all around the major cities in Africa. I bought 3 Rolls Royce Phantoms (Gold, Silver and White), 5 Ferraris, 2 Bentleys, 2 Lamborghinis and one Mercedes G-Wagon, not to mention the fleet of Ford vehicles in my Awka garage. I own 2 private jets, 5 helicopters and 1 yacht.

What the f**k is this ni**a driving at? Actually I have nothing to say but I’m pretty sure that I just left a lot of ideas in your heads. Crazy and hopeful, but unrealistic ideas. Illusion, Our Very Own Demon…

Why is he doing this, you may ask? Well, I just wanted to know how it feels to feed people with illusions and you to know how it feels to be fed with illusions. I am still talking crap, right?

Let’s do it this way; do you know that if you call the name of someone you miss dearly three times in the space of three minutes with three fingers held high that the person will appear?

Illusion, Our Very Own Demon…


Now stare at the picture below very hard;

illusion

After reading this post you will fall into a deep sleep and when you awaken your first thought would be Dionne Anekwe.

Full Stop… Lol!!!

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Stronger Than I Was..!!

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Stronger

Stronger Than I Was

“You won’t break me; you’ll just make me stronger than I was.”

I should have been stronger, stronger than I was when you said it was over, stronger than I was when you stopped crying on my shoulders, stronger than I was when you left me sober, I should have been stronger!

But tell me, how could I have been stronger?

“Loving someone is giving them the power to destroy you but trusting them not to.”

Nobody could hurt me more than you could at the time, I let you in unguarded, gave you the keys to my heart wantonly. But you just couldn’t control your desire for other guys. As I write this to you, it’s raining heavily in my heart, yes, there’s a thunderstorm with flashes of lightning ripping me apart and it just keeps me thinking, “All this lightning yet you couldn’t find a spark with me…”

I still love you despite what you think; I think of you every day and hope to God that you’ll come back my way.

Eminem already gave me a hint of what to say so I’m just gonna quote him:

“You walked out, I almost died, it was almost a homicide that you caused cos I was so traumatized, felt like I was in for a long bus ride, I’d rather die than you not by my side, can’t count how many times I vomited, cried, go to my room, turn on the radio and hide… If you coulda took my life, you woulda…”

All the lies you connived with Khocee to publish in his ‘Please Feel My Heartbeat‘ article had me going over the edge for the last two weeks but I’ve recovered now and I’ve decided to move on.

You won’t break me, you’ll just make me stronger than I was…

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In a dark room

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In a dark room- Ekwuno Obinna

So before I begin this was a thought that came to me, while I was sitting with my team nothing too serious though  but in every rubbish, there is a bit of sense, so here I go… in a dark room

 In a dark room

I’m always in a room filled with people but still nobody can see me, it’s not like I’m invisible but I find it hard to communicate with the people around me, It always feels better when I’m in a dark room because things seem to make sense when I’m alone. But then again, I was born into a family for a reason I really don’t understand, but like J.Cole would say “we’re on this earth to write a story we know nothing about”. OK I’m not sure he said that but I’ve heard that before somewhere, my life is filled with questions I mean its every bodies cross, I try to hid my emotions in poetry and rap but still my world is still in a dark room.In a dark room- Ekwuno Obinna

Reminiscing on a couple of years back, my aunty always asked me “was it always this way?” which made me wonder, honestly I remember the happy times, Like my dad teaching me how to ride a bicycle. I once saw a picture of my dad carrying me I was laughing and honestly I’m sure I was happy. But now the question now is where did that happiness go? Good times I had feeling like they never existed, was I born into this darkness or is this something I created?

Random Note

Depression isn’t a nice feeling but I just can’t help it, I’ve practiced how to smile in front of a mirror and it almost feels like I’m getting good at it, but oh well “fake it till you make it” that’s what they say right? Don’t get me wrong I’m happy sometimes, most times even , like when I’m around Bukky  I have no reason to frown I mean she makes everything funny, she’s no clown though and oh my team , I’ve learned  a lot from them first of all I learned that there can be a dim light in a dark room… peace out….

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Breaking Out of The Dark Room

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Breaking Out of The Dark Room

Breaking Out of “The Dark Room”

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you”.

A friend of mine wrote ” IN A DARK ROOM“. Brother I really understand you and bear with you but you got to understand, most times we build our own dark rooms and lock ourselves in and throw the key far away that our hands can’t reach anymore… Probably it’s because we are scared of getting out of our comfort zone or confronting the monster we thought exist within ourselves that was really never there! Breaking Out of The Dark Room

It’s never easy to create a comfort zone for yourself, but first you have to understand what it really means to be comfortable.

Let me ask you this; what really makes you think you are in a dark room? Trace back and figure out when were you ever in the light room? Breaking Out of The Dark Room

Sometimes we get too addicted in finding happiness elsewhere, whereas the real happiness lies within us.

Do you know that Happiness is the art of never holding in your mind the memory of any unpleasant thing that has passed? Breaking Out of The Dark Room

A wise Stacey Charter once said, ” Don’t rely on someone else for your happiness and self-worth. Only you can be responsible for that. If you can’t love and respect yourself – no one else will be able to make that happen. Accept who you are – completely; the good and the bad – and make changes as YOU see fit – not because you think someone else wants you to be different.”

Breaking Out of the Dark Room is at your fingertips, you either flunk it out or you suck it in and bear the consequences… Breaking Out of The Dark Room

 Breaking Out of The Dark Room

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