Archive for the ‘Sarcasm’ Category

*A New Metal is added to Chemistry:*
Name: WIFE

Symbol: Wf

Atomic mass: Light when first found… tends to get heavier over the years with time.
*Physical Properties :*

– Boils at any time

– Can freeze at any time

– Melts if treated with love

– Very Bitter if Mishandled
*Chemical Properties :*

– Very Reactive

– Highly Unstable

– Possesses Strong Affinity towards Gold, Silver, Diamond, Platinum, Credit cards, Debit cards & Cheque books

– Money Reducing Agent
*Occurrence :*

-Mostly found in front of the Mirror.

-It’s highly flammable when mixed with in-laws.

-It has mixed properties when seated with parents. 

-Woe unto you if she sees you with any element similar to itself!
Please circulate to all scientists.

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One thing about the ongoing Big Brother Naija reality TV show is the fact that whether you watch it or not, it’s in your face. As such, the concern of many over it’s value to the Nigerian society cannot be pushed aside. Unfortunately, the show has thrived on catering to the naughty or vice instincts in most people, with rated and raunchy scenes being the order of the house. Not surprisingly, many had called for a government action against broadcasting such content to a Nigerian audience in the future. Expectedly, that threw up mixed reactions from the Nigerian populace. While some find the entertainment exciting, other more serious folk are concerned about how the content affects values. Either way, the show has continued.
But perhaps more compelling in the argument against the continued airing of the show is one of the housemates, Tboss’ inability to recite the Nigerian National anthem in a routine truth or dare game. Since then, social media Nigeria cannot seem to recover from the shock that a potential winner of a show which is purportedly meant to be won by representing Nigerian values cannot recite something as basic as the national anthem. Shame!
More annoying to many is the fact that rather than own up to the goof and find a more intelligent way to placate her fans, the said housemate, Tboss, went on a tirade against her fellow contestant, Debbie-Rise, who posed the harmless kindergarten question to her, blaming her for the negative blowback her failure would do her chances of winning the show! Unbelievable. But then, nature has its own ways of shaming misfits. As it is, Tboss’ goof clearly, barring any miracle or organisers scam, makes the coast clear for other show favourites Efe or Bisola, who those following the show say are more deserving.
But much more than expose Tboss’ detachment from her country’s ideals, her national anthem disaster does also expose an aspect of our general failure as a people without deeper values for what is truly important. The national anthem of any country is the soundtrack of national existence. Footballers cry out of passion for their countries when singing before a game. Soldiers too. Great political leaders world over do too. The anthem is the soul of the country. But obviously not here in Nigeria. Only last year, two ambassadorial nominees, Alhaji Ibrahim Bida from Niger State and Mrs Vivian Okeke from Anambra State couldn’t recite the anthem at a Senate screening. Still, they were screened. The message is clear, it doesn’t matter whether you are passionate about the country or not, once you’re connected you have your way!
At the end of the day, beyond all the fuss about Tboss’ national anthem fiasco, Bisola’ blowjob on Thin Tall Tony, Kemen’s violation of Tboss’ womanhood, the free kissing sessions, the boobs baring moments and all the bad drama that Nigeria has been made to see on the road to creating a Big Brother model, we must all ask ourselves Olamide’s poser: who did the show epp? Apart from the organiser making loads of money off subscribers and voters, what else? Thin Tall Tony says he can make the prize money in three months on his own, meaning he or the others don’t necessarily need the show to make it!
As a final word to Tboss and all those who are privately guilty of this crime of passion for country, go on YouTube and find American singer Beyonce to teach you how to sing the Nigerian national anthem
Comment

Kai, stop bringing up such a senseless topic. How can you be raising such a sensitive political matter at a palm wine joint? And please, stop denigrating baba by likening him to your failed Jonathan. Jonathan failed all of us and that is why we all voted him out, including you. You were part of the change. Sai baba! Baba for life! Baba and Chelsea are the same. I love baba just as I love the blues. We will vote him again in 2019 if he agrees to run. Sai baba. Why are you laughing now? Does this sound funny? I have my dagger here to finish your life fa!

Sorry, I wasn’t laughing. But why are you this ferocious? Does viciousness run in your blood or is it because you are from… Where are you really from sef? Anyways, it doesn’t really matter. I hear most of your people are like this. You must not talk about their pinup even when they are being roasted by the same obsession.

Grammar…but who told you baba is roasting us? Are we chickens? Besides, your people are more violent than my people. I hear sound of bombs and grenades coming from there every now and then. They are claiming they own the entire country. Is it not only Boko boys that are troubling my people? Have you ever heard of kidnapping and militancy around my area? Take your time please! Sai baba!

I can’t just control this laughter but in a rancorous manner. Did I hear you say sai baba again? Well, I remember how it was activated. We all started with the stimulation of ‘sai baba,’ but at the middle of last year, some people started chorusing ‘why baba’. I have heard ‘chie’ baba from a few people and very soon, it will be ‘haba baba.’

Shut your ‘moronic’ and odious mouth. Buhari can never end up like Jonathan. Forget about what PDP is saying. They are trying everything possible to sabotage his government. I will continue to support baba, even if…

Even if what? Baba has failed us; he has even failed the group he used in removing Jonathan. I mean…ennnnn. What’s the name of the group again? This Oby Ezekwesili’s group, I mean that Aisha Yesufu’s group.

You mean BBOG?

Exactly! Can’t you see that they are now asking baba to be cautious, if not he will end up like Jonathan? In fact, they are like cat and dog now, and baba does not want to see them. I wonder why he is doing that, even when they staked everything for him and helped him win the election.

What did they stake for him? Are you daft? Did you ask why they formed the group? It was for appointment, but since baba only considered one of them, the rest are now angry. Could he have appointed all of them as Ministers? It’s not fair. Do they think baba is too old that he can’t decipher blue from white?

But he used them? Why is he now refusing to dine with them?

Because they are making impossible demands. They are asking baba to rescue the abducted Chibok girls. Is that not suicidal, I mean cheerless? How can you ask our President to go to the Sambisa forest to liberate those girls? I pity the security forces in the forest because it’s an awkward task. No government can rescue those girls. The forest is a noxious zone. After all, your Jonathan said the abduction was a facade’ so why troubling my baba?

Gbam! You don dey speak oyibo now. But baba said he was coming to rescue those girls or has he now agreed that there were no such girls?

Baba is also a politician. Baba is not just a military man. A politician capitalizes on every little opportunity to triumph over his challenger. At least, he got our votes with the sentiments of that abduction. Whether true or false, baba has won the election and now he is our President. He used the group wellaaaa.

Tufiakwa! He is not my President. I wish Jonathan won. I regret everything today. The sleepless night, the argument at newspapers stands, the social media campaigns and everything. I think I betrayed my people who would have preferred Jonathan to continue.

Jonathan would have killed this country.

So what has your Buhari done to this country so far? Revived it? Name one thing that your baba has done positively?

Okay wait…he has decimated Boko Haram.

How?

Don’t you read papers and press releases? Do you know why SK Usman always uses ‘remnant’ when he is issuing a press statement on Boko boys?

Talk is cheap!

Be serious my friend. The era of Boko Haram is over.

How can you say that? Where then are the abducted Chibok girls? Where is Shekau? Is he now dead for the third time?

You see, you don’t read. Shekau is a title. They have killed two title holders. One was recently wounded on the arm.

That sounds very funny. So we can say Shekau, the Emir of Sambisa. How many of the dead bodies have they recovered? How did the military know he was injured in the last raid? If they could be specific about the nature of the injury he sustained in the raid, then why didn’t they capture him or are they turning Sambisa to Boko Haram forest reserve? Very soon, the military will tell us the name of the hospital Shekau was taken to, and mention even the name of the doctor handling his case. Abeg, don’t let me derail from the topic. All I know is that baba has done nothing. He is living on his past glory.

Thunder fire you! Will you stop this nonsense?

No! The nonsense makes sense.

No sense. Jonathan finished our economy before baba took over.

But baba said he was coming to change things. Was he coming to lay blames? He studied the economy and said there was need for change. Now people are already saying we need to change the change. And I’m wondering what he has changed so far?

So many things.

Like wounding Shekau in the arm? Like promising that we will soon be out of recession? Like taking pump price of fuel to N145. Like promising that price of rice will soon fall from the current N20,000. Like completing the Abuja- Kaduna rail project Jona started? Honestly, he has tried to convince us to be a little patient with him. He may end up being worse than Jonathan. If I want to juxtapose, then I will say Jonathan was the best president we didn’t give a chance.

You are mad! You call yourself a media practitioner, yet it’s only at ‘palm wine joint’ you can claim super man in politics. How many articles have you written against the government of the day or are you afraid too?

I’m not afraid of anything. What is there to be afraid of? Is this situation not even worse than prison? What’s the difference? Didn’t you see Dasuki that day? That man don chop up. At least, he has rest of mind. Ask other journalists. People have refused to give brown envelops because they are also managing to survive. Many companies are folding up. Even Dangote is wailing, so I’m no longer afraid. Even Salkida willingly handed himself over to the security forces the other day.

Nonsense! ‘Jagbajantic’ bear parlour journalism. No matter the badbelle, baba will bounce back.

I won’t take it personal with you. I will be here next week to continue the argument with you. But remember I bought a bottle for you today, so you must return same next week. This is an era of change.

Useless man! Where is the money? I’m even thinking of how to survive this weekend. I have only 500 naira left for tomorrow’s garri. You know a cup now sells for as high as 50 naira.

Call baba to epp you. After all, who him epp for this country?

Ali Adoyi is an Abuja based journalist.

Firstly, I hope Goodluck Jonathan had a great cup of coffee or whatever his enemies say he drinks as he watched Bukola Saraki sitting in the dock. That should be the price of disloyalty.

According to Dwight Eisenhower, there is a difference between honest dissent and disloyal subversion. Saraki subverted PDP.

If not for Saraki and the PDP Governors that decamped, APC would never have smelt the seat of power, so, I couldn’t care less, really. And I love what Steward Jonsen wrote: Who got into the dock first- Bukola or Jonathan?

Secondly, what PMB is doing is good for our democracy. Let people know they will account
for their actions- whether it happened in 2003 or 2013.

Thirdly, even though I’m fully in support of this prosecution, I also know this prosecution is a sincere persecution. We all know that if Saraki had belonged to the right side, the powers that be, would have conveniently forgotten that he ‘wrongly’ filled a form in 2003.
If he had worshipped at the temple of Asiwaju, his British passport would never have shown
up on Sahara Reporters. His case file would have gone missing the same way Fashola’s contract awards got missing on Lagos State’s website.

It is actually a witch hunt. The only difference is that Saraki may truly be a witch. So then, he has a choice to bow or to burn.

Fourthly, nothing is going to come out of this charade. It is simply a telenovela, a short-running soap full of intrigues and comedy. The
final episode has been written already. It’s a Nollywood film but it’s not going to be a block
buster. It will end similarly to AY’s dry and predictable ’30 days in Atlanta’. Many people will hiss the way I hissed after seeing the over-hyped movie.

If you think Saraki can be removed this way, perish the thought. Bukola Saraki is more
politically savvy than most people give him credit for. Be careful of the man who betrayed his father and sent him to political Siberia. The older Saraki never recovered. He went down to the grave in disbelief. The old fox was outfoxed.

Bukola is Absalom. Absalom cannot be killed by deceitful wiles or snares set by human beings. Absalom knows how to fight. Absalom had watched his father fight from when he was small. Absalom grew up with a spear in his hands. Those who should know said that Bukola Saraki sponsored either in part or whole those who are in the Senate for the first time- irrespective of party or regional affiliation. He has a bunch of serious loyalists and you could
see that in the number of people who followed him to the CCT. Even Kwara State was shut down.

Has it ever occurred to anyone why Saraki did not appear last Friday? It was not the fear of being docked or put in jail over the weekend- like so many erroneously thought. And I know
he knew the Appeal Court would not rule in his favour. But he needed time. To negotiate and
sort things out. And that is what he got between Friday and Tuesday when he appeared. Time! Time! So much happened between that Friday and Monday.

Head or tail, APC loses. If Saraki is booted out by chance, who heads the Senate? Ike Ekweremadu!

And this is the first time I’m seeing a party in power being in opposition to itself. There is nowhere APC can push Saraki
to- he belongs to them warts and all. APC cannot accept the good and reject the bad. He is their burden and responsibility and they must live with it.

:::Culled:::

bad-bank-robbery

During a robbery in Guangzhou, China, the bank robber shouted to everyone in the bank: “Don’t move. The money belongs to the State. Your life belongs to you.”

Everyone in the bank laid down quietly. This is called “Mind Changing Concept” Changing the conventional way of thinking.

When a lady lay on the table provocatively, the robber shouted at her: “Please be civilized! This is a robbery and not a rape!”

This is called “Being Professional” Focus only on what you are trained to do!

When the bank robbers returned home, the younger robber (MBA-trained) told the older robber (who has only completed Year 6 in primary school): “Big brother, let’s count how much we got.”

The older robber rebutted and said: “You are very stupid. There is so much money it will take us a long time to count. Tonight, the TV news will tell us how much we robbed from the bank!”

This is called “Experience.” Nowadays, experience is more important than paper qualifications!

After the robbers had left, the bank manager told the bank supervisor to call the police quickly. But the supervisor said to him: “Wait! Let us take out $10 million from the bank for ourselves and add it to the $70 million that we have previously embezzled from the bank”.

This is called “Swim with the tide.” Converting an unfavorable situation to your advantage!

The supervisor says: “It will be good if there is a robbery every month.”

This is called “Killing Boredom.” Personal Happiness is more important than your job.

The next day, the TV news reported that $100 million was taken from the bank. The robbers counted and counted and counted, but they could only count $20 million. The robbers were very angry and complained: “We risked our lives and only took $20 million. The bank manager took $80 million with a snap of his fingers. It looks like it is better to be educated than to be a thief!”

This is called “Knowledge is worth as much as gold!”

The bank manager was smiling and happy because his losses in the share market are now covered by this robbery.

This is called “Seizing the opportunity.” Daring to take risks!

So who are the real robbers here?

By Chimamanda Adichie

As soon as he opened his eyes, he felt it. A strange peace, a calm clarity. He stretched.  Even his limbs were stronger and surer. He looked at his phone. Thirty-seven new text messages – and all while he was asleep. With one click, he deleted them. The empty screen buoyed him. Then he got up to bathe, determined to fold the day into the exact shape that he wanted.

Those Levick people had to go. No more foreign PR firms. They should have made that article in the American newspaper sound like him, they should have known better. They had to go. And he would not pay their balance; they had not fulfilled the purpose of the contract after all.

He pressed the intercom. Man Friday came in, face set in a placidly praise-singing smile.

“Good morning, Your Excellency!”

“Good morning,” Oga Jona said. “I had a revelation from God.”

Man Friday stared at him with bulging eyes.

“I said I had a revelation from God,” he repeated. “Find me new Public Relations people. Here in Nigeria. Is this country not full of mass communication departments and graduates?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Man Friday’s eyes narrowed; he was already thinking of whom he would bring, of how he would benefit.

 “I want a shortlist on my table on Wednesday,” Oga Jona said. “I don’t want any of the usual suspects. I want fresh blood. Like that student who asked that frank question during the economic summit.”

“Your Excellency… the procurement rules…we need somebody who is licensed by the agency licensed by the agency that licenses PR consultants…”

Oga Jona snorted. Man Friday used civil service restrictions as a weapon to fight off competition. Anybody who might push him out of his privileged position was suddenly not licensed, not approved, not registered. “I don’t want you to bring your own candidates, do you hear me? I said I want fresh blood, I’m not joking.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Man Friday said, voice now high-pitched with alarmed confusion.

“Put that DVD for me before you go,” Oga Jona said.

He watched the recording on the widescreen television, unhappy with his appearance in the footage. His trousers seemed too big and why had nobody adjusted his hat? Next to The Girl from Pakistan, he looked timid, scrunched into his seat. She was inspiring, that young girl, and he wished her well. But he saw now how bad this made him appear: he had ignored all the Nigerians asking him to go to Chibok, and now The Girl From Pakistan was telling the world that he promised her he would go. He promised me, she said. As if the abducted Nigerian girls did not truly matter until this girl said they did. As if what mattered to him was a photo-op with this girl made famous by surviving a gunshot wound. It made him look small. It made him look unpresidential. It made him look like a leader without a rudder.  Why had they advised him to do this? He pressed a button on his desk and waited.

Violence was unfamiliar to Oga Jona. Yet when Man Monday came in, his belly rounded and his shirt a size too tight as usual, Oga Jona fought the urge to hit and punch and slap. Instead, he settled for less: he threw a teacup at Man Monday.

“Why have you people been advising me not to go to Chibok? Why have you people been telling me that my enemies will exploit it?”

“Sah?” Man Monday had dodged the teacup and now stood flustered.

“I am going to Chibok tomorrow. I should have gone a long time ago. Now it will look as if I am going only because a foreigner, a small girl at that, told me to go. But I will still go. Nigerians have to see that this thing is troubling me too.”

“But Sah, you know…”

“Don’t ‘Sah you know’ me!” This was how his people always started. “Sah, you know…” Then they would bring up conspiracies, plots, enemies, evil spirits. No wonder giant snakes were always chasing him in his dreams: he had listened to too much of their nonsense. He remembered a quote from a teacher in his secondary school:  ‘The best answer to give your enemies is continued excellence.’ What he needed, he saw now, was an adviser like that teacher.

“Sah, the security situation…”

“Have you not seen Obama appear in Afghanistan or Iraq in the middle of the night to greet American troops? Is Chibok more dangerous than the war the Americans are always fighting up and down? Arrange it immediately. Keep it quiet. I want to meet the parents of the girls. Make gifts and provisions available to the families, as a small token of goodwill from the federal government.” He knew how much people liked such things. A tin of vegetable oil would soften some bitter hearts.

“Sah…”

“From Borno we go to Yobe. I want to meet the families of the boys who were killed. I want to visit the school. Fifty-nine boys! They shot those innocent boys and burnt them to ashes! Chai! There is evil in the world o!”

“Yes Sah.”

“These people are evil. That man Yusuf was evil. The policemen who killed him, we have to arrest them and parade them before the press. Make sure the world knows we are handling the case. But it is even more important that we tell the true story about Yusuf himself. Yes, the police should not have killed him. But does that mean his followers should now start shedding blood all over this country? Is there any Nigerian who does not have a bad story about the police? Was it not last year that my own cousin was nearly killed in police detention? Let us tell people why the Army caught him in the first place. He was evil. Remember that pastor in Maiduguri that he beheaded. Find that pastor’s wife. Let her tell her story. Let the world hear it. Show pictures of the pastor. Why have we not been telling the full story? Why didn’t we fight back when The Man From Borno was running around abroad, blaming me for everything when he too failed in his own responsibilities?” Oga Jona was getting angrier as he spoke, angry with his people, angry with himself. How could he have remained, for so long, in that darkness, that demon possession of ineptitude?

“Yes Sah!”

 “You can go.”

He picked up the iphone and spoke slowly. “I want to expand that Terror Victims Support Committee. Add one woman. Add two people personally affected by terrorism. How can you have a committee on terrorism victims with no diversity?”

On the other end of the phone, the voice was stilled by surprise. “Yes Sah!” Finally emerged, in a croak.

He put down the phone. There would be no more committees. At least until he was re-elected. And no more unending consultations. He picked up the Galaxy, scrolled through the list of contacts. He called two Big Men in the Armed Forces, the ones stealing most of the money meant for the soldiers.

“I want your resignation by Friday,” He said simply.

Their shock blistered down the phone.

“But Your Excellency…”

“Or you want me to announce that I am sacking you? At least resignation will save you embarrassment.”

If those left knew he was now serious as commander-in-chief, serious about punishing misdeed and demanding performance, they would sit up. He ate some roasted groundnuts before making the next call. To another Big Man in the Armed Forces. They had to stop arresting Northerners just like that. He remembered his former gateman in Port Harcourt. Mohammed, pleasant Mohammed with his buck teeth and his radio pressed to his ear. Mohammed would not even have the liver to support any terrorist.  He told the Big Man in the Armed Forces, “You need to carry people along. Win hearts and minds. Make Nigerians feel that you are fighting for them, not against them… And when you talk to the press and say that Nigerians should do their part to fight terrorism, stop sounding as if you are accusing them. After all, let us tell the truth, what can an ordinary person do? Nothing! Even those people who check cars, if they open a boot and see a big bomb, what will they do? Will they try to subdue an armed suicide bomber? Will they pour water on the bomb to defuse it? Will they not turn and run as fast as their legs can carry them? Let’s start a mass education campaign. Get proposals on how best to do it without scaring people. When we tell Nigerians to report suspicious behavior, let’s give them examples. Suspicious behavior does not mean anybody wearing a jellabiya. After all, was the one in Lagos not done by a woman?” He paused.

“Yes, Your Excellency!”

“As for the girls, we have to go back to negotiation. Move in immediately.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“I should not have listened to what they told me in that Paris summit. Why did I even agree to follow them and go to Paris, all of us looking like colonised goats?”

From the other end, came a complete and lip-sealed silence. The Big Man in the Armed Forces dared not make a sound, lest it be mistaken as agreement on the word ‘goat.’ Besides, he had been part of the entourage for that trip and had collected even more than the normal fat juicy estacode.

“I don’t want to hear about any other mutiny,” Oga Jona continued. “You will get the funds. But I want real results! Improve the conditions of your boys. I want to see results!”

The Big Man in the Armed Forces started saying something about the Americans.

Oga Jona cut him short. “Shut up! If somebody shits inside your father’s house, is it a foreigner that will come and clean the house for you? Is Sambisa on Google Maps? How much local intelligence have you gathered? Before you ask for help, you first do your best!”

“Yes Your Excellency.”

“And why is it that nobody interviewed the girls who escaped?”

There was a pause.

“By tomorrow night I want a report on the local intelligence gathered so far!”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

Oga Jona turned on the television and briefly watched a local channel. Who even designed those ugly studio backgrounds? There was a knock on the door. It had to be Man Thursday. Nobody else could come in anyhow.

“Good afternoon, My President,” Man Thursday said.

Short and stocky, Man Thursday was the soother who always came cradling bottles of liquid peace.

This time, Oga Jona pushed away the bottle. “Not now!’

“My President, I hope you’re feeling fine.”

“I received a revelation from God. From now on, I will stop giving interviews to foreign journalists while ignoring our own journalists.”

“But My President, you know how useless our journalists are…”

“Will Obama give an interview to AIT and ignore CBS?”

“No, Your Excellency.”

“I know some of our journalists support Bourdillon, but we also have others on our side. I will beat them at their game! I want to do interviews with two journalists that support us and one journalist that supports Bourdillon. Find one that will be easy to intimidate.”

“But…”

“I want names in the next hour.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Man Thursday now stood still, lips parted in the slack expression of a person no longer sure what day it was.

 “Tell the Supporters Club to change their television advertisements. They should stop mentioning ‘those who are against me.’ I will no longer give power to my enemies. They should mention only the things that I am doing. I like that one with the almajiri boy. It shows Nigerians that I have helped with education in the North. They should make more advertisements like that.”

In response, Man Thursday could only nod vigorously but mutely.

Later, after eating vegetable soup with periwinkle and a plate of sliced fruits – he was determined to keep himself from looking like Man Monday – he asked Sharp Woman to meet him in the residence. Not in the main living room, but in the smaller relaxing white parlor. Sharp Woman was the only one he fully trusted. He had sometimes allowed himself to sideline her, when he had felt blown this way and that way by the small-minded pettiness of other people. She was the only one who had not allowed him to dwell too much on his own victimhood. Once, she had told him quietly, “You have real enemies. There are people in this country who do not think you should be president simply because of where you come from. Did they not say they would make the country ungovernable for you? But not everything is the fault of your enemies. If we keep on blaming the enemies then we are making them powerful. The Bourdillon people are disorganized. They don’t have a real platform. Their platform is just anti-you. They don’t even have a credible person they can field, the only major candidate they have is the one they will not select. So stop mentioning them. Face your work.”

He should have listened then, despite the many choruses that drowned her voice.

It was she who, a few days later, and after the four rubbish candidates stage-managed by Man Friday, brought the new PR people, Kikelola Obi, Bola Usman and Chinwe Adeniyi – when he first saw their names, he thought: and some crazy people are saying we should divide Nigeria. They were in their early thirties, with rough faces and no make up; they looked too serious, as if they attended Deeper Life church and disapproved of laughter. They started their presentation, all three taking turns to speak. They stood straight and fearless. Their directness and confidence unnerved him.

“Sir, we voted for you the first time. We felt that you would do well if you had the mandate of the people instead of just an inherited throne. We liked you because you had no shoes. We really liked you. We had hope in you. You seemed humble and different. But with all due respect sir, we will not vote for you again unless something changes.”

He nearly jumped up from his seat. Small girls of nowadays! They had no respect! As if to make it worse, one of them added that if the election were held today, the only person she could vote for was The Man From Lagos. Oga Jona bristled. That annoying man. Even if a mosquito bit him in his state, he would find a way to blame the president for it. Still, Oga Jona could see why these foolish small girls were saying they would vote for him. The man had tried in Lagos. But their mentioning The Man From Lagos was now a challenge. He would rise to the challenge.

“Sir, the good news is that Nigerians forgive easily and Nigerians forget even more easily. You have to change strategy. Be more visible. Stop politicizing everything. Stop blaming your enemies for everything. You have to be, and seem to be, a strong, uniting leader. Make sure to keep repeating that this is not a Muslim vs. Christian thing.”

Oga Jona cut in, pleased to be able to challenge these over-sabi girls. “You think Nigerians don’t know that it is mostly Christian areas that they are targeting in Borno? And what about all those church bombings?”

The three shook their heads, uniformly, like robots. They were sipping water; they had declined everything else.

“With all due respect sir, if you look at the names of bombing victims, they are Muslims and Christians. If God forbid another terror attack occurs, you have to come out yourself and talk to Nigerians. Stop releasing wooden statements saying you condemn the attacks. We will prep you before each public appearance. You have a tendency to ramble. That’s the most important thing to watch out for. Be alert when you answer each question. Keep your answers short. You don’t have to elaborate if there is nothing to elaborate. Stick to the point. If they ask you something negative, be willing to admit past mistakes but always give the answer a positive spin. Something like ‘yes, I could have handled it better and I regret that but I am now doing better, and am determined to do even more because Nigerians want and deserve results.’ You have to start reaching out beyond your comfort zone. Nigeria has talent. Look for the best Nigerians on any subject at hand, wherever they may be, and persuade them to come and contribute on their area of expertise. Especially the ones who have no interest in government work. Even one or two who don’t completely agree with you. Think of Lincoln’s Team of Rivals.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, sir. The important thing is to reach out beyond your circle. Oga Segi was not a calm person like you. He even used to threaten to flog people. But he had a good network. Jimmy Carter is his friend. If he needed expertise from a university in Zaria or Edinburgh or Boston, he would pick up his phone and know somebody who knew or somebody who knew somebody who knew. But with all due respect, sir, you don’t have that. Bayelsa is a small place.”

These girls really had no respect o! He glared at Sharp Woman, who shrugged and muttered, “You said you wanted people who would tell you the truth.”

But he listened.

In his first interview, the words rolled off his tongue. Those girls had made him repeat himself so many times. “I want to apologize to the Nigerian people for some actions of my government. We could have done better. No country fighting terrorism can let everything be open. But we owe our country men and women honest, clear assurance that we are taking decisive action, with enough details to be convincing. I ask for your prayers and support. I have directed the security services to set up a website that will give Nigerians accurate and up-to-date information about our war against terrorism. I have also hired specialists to manage the flow and presentation of the information.”

And the words came easily when he shook hands with the parents in Chibok, simple polite people who clutched his hand with both of theirs. He should have done this much earlier; it was so touching. “Sorry,” he said, over and over again. “Sorry. Please keep strong. We will rescue them.”

The words were more reluctant when he wore a red shirt and asked to be taken to the gathering of The People in Red at the park. But he cleared his throat and urged himself to speak, particularly because, as he emerged from within his circle of security men, the People in Red all stopped and stared. Silence reigned.

“I came to salute you,” Oga Jona started. “We are on the same side. My government has made mistakes. We are learning from them and correcting them. Please work with us. Together, we will defeat this evil.”

They were still silent and still staring; they were disarmed. He thanked them and, before they could marshal their old distrust, he turned and left. That night, as he sank to his knees in prayer, he heard the muted singing of angels.

– Chimamanda Adichie is an award winning writer and author of bestsellers including Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, The Thing Around Your Neck and Americanah.

The Future Awards Africa 2013 took place on Friday in Port Harcourt, Rivers State with Governor Rotimi Amaechi serving as the chief host. The event had honourees from all over the country and Africa’s youngest billionaire, Ashish Thakkar as one of the winners of the prestigious awards.

In his usual no-holds-barred manner, Amaechi engaged the youth present at the award ceremony casting doubts on their sincerity in steering the ship of Nigeria right if given the opportunities to right the wrong of leaders past.

According to him,young people in Nigeria just want to go and ‘chop’ in government.

Here is a list of the 10 most outrageous things he said while giving his speech:

– In a statement which sounded very Jonathan-esque, Amaechi said, “At your age I didn’t have money to buy a suit.” He went on to chide the audience at the awards for appearing gay and colourful wondering how they intend to fight leaders accused of embezzling public funds.

– “If a man tries to rape you, beat the sh_t out of him,” he said. He urged ladies to resist any man who tries to take advantage of them by not giving in to any untoward advances.

– “I had one shirt and one trouser in university; to wash on Sunday and sleep.” (The President might want to consider suing our dear governor for copyrights infringements right here. That’s his line, isn’t it.)

– “I could not chase girlfriends as a youth, no girl would date me.”

– “Youth wearing suits are not the type that will be the change Nigeria needs.” (Did we hear anyone say #GBAM? Anyone?!)

– “The office of governor in Nigeria is so comfortable that no one will want to leave.” (There you have it.)

– “My commissioners got up to line up when I came in, they don’t have work….”

– “We put poor children in rich men’s schools so that they can impregnate their daughters…”

– “…We established this policy as a way of redistributing wealth,” he says. (At least one governor has an economic love policy. Quick, vote Amaechi for… err… never mind.)

– He continues his theory saying “If love should catch you ehn? Love knows no boundaries.” (Aww, how philosophical of him…)

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HOW TO DIE IN NIGERIA

A great man once said that a thing that must be done, should be done properly. Ok, I made that up. But it is true. No point flopping at something you can’t escape. Somehow we all must die. Don’t ask me the cause of that product defect. Even if you cheat death like Mugabe who at 120 is still insisting on ruling Zimbabwe, someday it must all end. This no one can control. But how we die, this is more important than dying itself. Because to die without a ripple, without some stirring in the air, is to never have lived. Death is not a noun or a state. It is an event, the success of which requires proper planning.

This is how to die in Nigeria.

One way to die is to ensure that in life, you did something worth remembering. This action need not be good or exemplary. In Nigeria no one cares if you were good or evil when you die. The only crime is dying without having done anything worthy of note. Like dying so poor no one knows your name. In Nigeria death, especially the death of someone rich or powerful, confers sainthood that cannot be challenged. Coup plotters and government thieves assume the title of elder statesmen and heroes of the nation. It will become forbidden to dig into your wicked past and you will be beatified. You may even get a posthumous national award. And most importantly, the newspapers will carry ads about your unfortunate exit or ‘Call to Glory’. In this way your death will have a meaning. So, please, if you must die in Nigeria, acquire power and wealth. I don’t care how and if you do, no one will. 

Do not die in the company of important people if you yourself have not attained importance or notoriety. This is crucial. If you go and die in the company of an ex governor or ex militant, the news will say Governor so-and-so has died in a ghastly motor accident. Then the report may add that ‘also among the casualties were two persons traveling in his convoy’. No one will know which of the two unidentified persons you are. Or if you are male or female. You will pass on into oblivion without so much as an ad in the paper. Because in Nigeria, you are a number unless you are important. God forbid that this should happen to you.

The only exception to this is dying in a plane crash. This is the most respectable death for persons without a title to their name. The flight manifest- one of the few records that are consistently available on demand in Nigeria- makes it possible to have a full list of everyone on board. Usually this list is published and somehow the world will receive notice of your untimely death. Your name will appear in full in newspapers and news reports. Your death will matter. 

Do not make the mistake of dying in a luxurious bus accident. You do not want to go out with the headline ‘Dozens perish in bus crash’. Because to die is one thing and to perish is another. If you are unfortunate the reporter will say something like ‘25 crushed to death’ with an emphasis on the crushing instead of the dying. All people will see in their heads will be human flesh being crushed. No face. No identity. No names. 

Dying in a flood, a cholera outbreak, a collapsed building, these things are unacceptable. Rather than that, it is even better to die while having carnal knowledge, in which case at least one of the tabloids or gossip blogs will find out your name and carry your story. Your family may not like it, but at least people will know your name.

One of the worst places to die however is in a terrorist attack. Nigeria is not Kenya that respectfully identifies people by name in a terrorist attack. We cannot afford such luxuries. Here, when a terrorist kills you whether as a student in a school or a traveler on the road, you become a summarized number. An official of the National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA) was once quoted as saying that when fatalities occur in a conflict situation, they feel duty bound to reduce the figures, so as not to escalate the crises. What wise thinking. So if there are 200 deaths, NEMA may report 60. Imagine being summarized. Not even counted as a whole dead figure. So if you run into a terrorist bent on taking your life, beg the man. Tell him you are not opposed to dying for his cause. Plead with him to try something else, maybe make a video or something. Because it would be a tragedy to fade into oblivion, unannounced.

One great way to go is to die on camera. Hundreds, including school children may die or be slaughtered every month in Maiduguri and Nigerians will go about their daily activities. Because in their heads Maiduguri is one faraway North Eastern state that could pass for Chadian or Nigerien territory. In their heads 160 killed in Borno is what it is, a number. But if you have your death captured on tape, perfect. Then you can have hashtags with your name on Twitter and NGO’s calling for legislation to outlaw whatever type of knife they used to stab you. People will grant interviews and there will be hundreds of badly written blogs about you. A hashtag and a badly written blog post with a link to your death video or a photo of you gotten from Facebook is better than dying as a number. 

You cannot leave your death to chance. Because, as they say, to die is human but to die properly is divine. Ok, I made that up too, but you catch my drift, no?

Elnathan John

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WARNING ::: This is a Fictional tale

The last has not been heard from Nigerian representative at the recently concluded Big Brother Africa The Chase series, Beverly Osu, as she has reportedly threatened her in-house lover, Angelo, with juju.

This is coming on the heels of Angelo’s engagement to his girlfriend moments after the show ended. The heartborken Beverly got wind of this and has been in tears since last night, FNN sources tell us.

Our source was told that she became really angry and started making threats saying “Angelo! Angelo! Angeloo!!! How many times did I call you?? So you want to break my heart like this? NO! You can’t break a Nigerian girl’s heart and go scot free! Mbanu! I will go to the best juju man in Onitsha! I will tie you wife’s womb! You must love me again! If you won’t love me then no one else will have you!!!”

FML via FNN can also confirm that 2Shotz, her ‘alleged’ ex lover is making plans to be at the airport when she touches down. Just to laugh at her. Gov. Fashola of Lagos state has also asked that her flight be diverted to Kano Airport, after all the nonsense she said “about arranging girls for him” during the show.

Many people have been speaking their mind with regards to the connection of First Lady Patience Jonathan to some of the principal actors in the crisis threatening to bring Rivers State to its kneels.

But one man has been watching with keen interest as the drama unfolds until now.

Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon, a Former Member of the National House of Assembly from Edo state, Nigeriaonpoint observed, has finally broken his silence on the raging controversy. See his message to our dear Patience Jonathan below:

“Is the malodorous excrescence in Rivers State, cascadingly oozing out from erebus Dame, all about the satiation of a megalomaniacal presidential termagant?
“Let someone assist me in whispering to the Dame that ‘Alagamus Paret Ai Ai Num, Ai Ai Num Cest Daret, Opotere Alagamus’.”

But who is going to help us whisper this kind BIG grammar to the mama of the nation nau?

Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon

Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon

Nigeria's 1st Lady, Dame Patience Jonathan

Nigeria’s 1st Lady, Dame Patience Jonathan