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Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure...
Showing posts with label Articles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Articles. Show all posts

Education: Rights or Privileges?

Walking down my street in the ever busy city of Lagos, I pondered so hard on how the government and others have taken education with such levity.

Education has always been a right in the 1948 declaration of Human Rights going down history,  it stated in the article 26 "Right to Education" it was not "privilege" to education.

Education as stated by some government officials as a business which is not for the poor masses but for the rich and famous. I weep in my heart!!!

In Nigeria tuition fees of states owned institutions ranges from 100k - 300k some are above , I sat down under a Mango tree with unripe fruits thinking about how a father who sells meat and a mother who sells bread and makes profit just enough to eat can send his/her children to this institutions with exorbitant fees.

A civil servant who earns 100 thousand Naira per month and has 3 children in the higher institutions who pays 300k per session in a state owned institution ,  he  collects 1.2million annually as salary and expends 900 thousand annually for his children fees, he has barely enough to pay for rent, to pay for the children rent not to talk of increased price in feeding.

If any government propose on increasing the tuition fees of higher institutions, will they increase the salaries of our fathers and mothers ???
Will I ever get an answer from a government official??

The so called federal govt owned institutions who pay less receives thousands of admission seekers jostling for a few available slots whose majority has already been decided by the management (VC list, pro chancellor list, prof list, lecturers list) please which  list will the remain poor masses belong to?
The private institution is a no go area for the poor, it a place for the privileged politicians and we'll to do individuals.

Nigeria of about 200 million population have a majority of about 112million poor citizens.
If OYO state governor ,Abiola Ajimobi can say Education is not for the poor that means "112 million citizens are not entitled to education"
We continually complain of increased crime rates, thugs everywhere, prostitution and others; this will continue to increase until the educational system becomes friendly to the poor.

Ask a lautech student he would tell you education has never been a right it has always stayed as a privilege.

I hope one day, you and I will be privileged to be educated.

✍🏻✍🏻✍🏻
Horla oluwa©
03-09-2017




Musa olaoluwa is a student of Lautech, a poet and a social writer. anatomist in the making. He writes from momusa70@student.lautech.edu.ng


Goodbye, Dear August

Dear August,

Today, you leave in the same dress you came. We have managed you for thirty one days of mixed feelings. With a break, we have worn our "bests" and tasted the "worsts", smiled and frowned, laughed and cried...

August, as you leave like the August Visitor, please hold back no thing. Remind me, that the year would end, soon too.

Make memories of unfulfilled resolutions haunt me. That I may be accountable.

Then, vanish, like Lot's lingering lost wife...
Within seconds, minutes, hours... Into thin-fat air.
I will wave, Dear August.
It's a farewell, not a goodbye...
Till next year, if God says yes.

Let me birth a good child today to remember you tomorrow.

And, Let Spetember step in.

Goodnight August, the visitor. Good Night.

© -Mantras Inspiratio


Michelle's Musings I: Untitled...

So I was with a friend yesterday.
Someone I've not been in good terms with for some time and out of curiosity I asked him:

Why did you tell people bad things about me even when you knew they were lies"

He answered and I quote :
for you to get people to do something, you need to get into their heads, their mental or behavioural characteristics"

If I hate you, I won't be happy to see other people loving you, so I'd try to make them hate you too.

And if I love you, I won't be happy to see someone else love you too, so I'd try to make that person or those people hate you just because I want you all to myself.

I was shocked and at same time amazed, the concept to me at that point was mind blowing but later I went through it all over again and I realized that this person didn't put into consideration the damages that will be done to the person, either you love them or hate them.

But I learned something new
When people say things to you about other people, do you care to know why?
It might be because of any of these reasons my friend gave.
But we don't care to know, we digest the things we hear without any confirmation what so ever and some of us go as far as helping spread the wrong information.

So this is what I have to say,
Never judge anyone by what you hear about them from someone else, no matter how well you think the person know them.

Michelle.


Forgive this post! Happy New Month!

So, I read this post earlier this morning on whatsapp and I thought it wise to share!

My manners!

Let me wish you firstly, a Happy New Month. This month is a big one, I assure you...

Now, let's go to this article. It's on sex,a new dimension though...


Sex is dirty, so they said. So, they turned off all the lights and copulated in thick silence punctuated with barely audible moans and sighs while they secretly acquired stashes of erotic magazines and movies, gawking at images and videos of nude personalities seeming to have the time of their lives.

They told us sex is dirty so we could keep our thighs closed, zips locked, noses turned up in disgust and minds smitten in horror at the mere mention of the word.


That was until we found out somehow that it gives much more pleasure than ten bowls of chocolate ice cream garnished with a variety of nuts and coconut chippings. "Surely, something so thrilling cannot be dirty," we reasoned.


Deeper and deeper we sunk into all kinds of sexual addictions. Our experiments began with stolen kisses that got deeper until we unraveled our clothing and couldn't seem to extricate our limbs from the clutches in which we had been wrapped.


The world around us seemed to shrink in size as we stared at the erotic display of skin, sinews and skills in different sizes, shapes and motions. The more we remembered that our acts were forbidden, the more we were sucked in to the vortex of unending scenes and fantasies. Then, the actors invaded our mobile devices and mailboxes until we began to relish waking up to the bold invitations from "Cutebitch", "HotSandy", "BigZack", etc.


Our guilt deepened as we transited to self-stimulation on days and nights when we were too shy, afraid or depressed to find partners. Then we found our palms reaching to forbidden zones even when we were in public places, among friends, family and/or strangers. It didn't matter anymore. The urge to feel good and better about ourselves was greater than the fear of being caught in public.


On sober days, we wished we could open up to somebody. Not anybody, but someone who cared enough to hear us without condemnation. One who wouldn't heighten our sense of shame by feeding us the lie that sex is dirty because in the throes of passion, it didn't feel dirty. It felt sweet, good, beautiful, exciting, like ice cream, popcorn and a good movie after a stressful day. Like a sizeable mound of swallow and our favourite soup after a particularly difficult test... And that was why we couldn't stop. No matter how much we tried, we just couldn't stop.


Dear young friend, sex is sweet. Even in it's perverse form, it still feels good, very good. I know that it helps you let go of some tension when you feel hurt after being unduly criticized or ignored by those who claim to love you. It's where you run to when you feel like the world has moved on without you and you're stuck in the same spot year after year. It's the balm that soothes you when you are faced with a deep sense of inadequacy. It began with an experiment but is now a consuming addiction because even when your heart says no, your body and your mind say yes.

Now, you have accepted that you like it. You also need to know that it is sacred. It's like that special couch in your sitting room; that one that only your dad was allowed to sit on. Yeah, like that special beer mug that only your dad was allowed to drink from. You watched with longing every time he drank from it. You could feel the liquid slide down your throat whenever he drank from it at dinner. It wasn't dirty, it was sacred.

So, you stole gulps from it whenever you could until... the day it slid from your palms and crashed on the floor. Your crime no longer hidden, you had to face the penalty for crashing your dad's favourite mug. You could have waited till you were grown enough to have your own special mug but your greed was greater than reason.

That same greed is the reason you experiment with sex. Call it curiosity, fun, whatever. Truth remains that instead of sex, you could be playing football, a video game, writing a script, visiting friends, learning to play the guitar or engaging in many other things.

So next time you feel like stealing that sacred gift called sexual pleasure outside the confines of marriage, take a stroll, play a game, talk to someone trustworthy like Matthew Femi Adedoyin, Stella Eyuruntela Ashe, Ajewole Ayodeji or anyone within your circle who understands and won't victimise you. S/he doesn't have to be a pastor to help you get over your addiction but must have a pair of listening ears and a heart that truly cares.

I want to see you on the other side of freedom from sexual perversion. I know you can. I trust you. I love you.

-Ini Akpan


Conformity, Religion and the Growing Child

It was the hour of prayer. I saw muslim brothers and sisters rush for prayers. The males lined into the mosque after the order of ablution and the females from their own end did same.

Minutes into prayer, I saw from the window opening of the mosque, Abubakar. He was a young boy of about seven years, judging from my thoughts. Abubakar had refused to

Is it proper to shake the hands of a lady?

Sensitivity is one basic feature in mixed societies. To the growing individual at the secondary school level or the youth at the tertiary level, a turn down must have occured during occassions where the male prompts a handshake to a female. This, in our society is largely premised on the religious and traditional inclination of the persons in question.



Some cultures govern the idea that men should be not shake hands with women to maintain the masculine status quo. Others restrict the handshakes to daughters below marriageable ages while some are binding, on the female folk to resist any handshake (especially the islamic religious background)

I believe as a person that handshakes are a form of greeting. In formal settings for example, it is the most acceptable form of greeting. Although, it is largely believed that it is a white man's system, adopted after we were willed into existence from Lord Lugard's and Shaw's colonial laboratory of artificial insemination. But then, the question is not the refusal of handshakes but the subsequent embarrassment it carries, especially in public. What way leads out?



The bargain leads that in any formal setting, a business setting for example, it is proper for a lady to shake hands with a man whether it was initiated by him or her. However, if you do not feel comfortable
shaking the hands of a lady, I suggest you should not initiate the handshake. However, you should respond if the lady initiates the handshake to avert any embarrassment that may ensue. Also, if you know
the religious or cultural inclination of the opposite sex by virtue of
prior information or "readable information" (e.g a muslim lady's hijab) at that moment, it is advised you do not initiate the handshake unless she does. Also, the nominal reference such as "Aishat" or names in that order should make you refrain from handshakes unless she initiates it.


There are situations where the male could find substitutes in informal
settings. I personally employ the "chop knuckle" (the exchange of
folded fists by either party) idea in cases like this.



The world is a 21st Century one. We choose to flow with trends or
refuse them. What do you think about the subject of shaking hands?

(Please note that this post is not targeted at any individual or sect- religious or traditional. Any misconception as to nominals is not deliberate.)




This post was first published via
Nondoc Media

The Memoir of the Mad

With each passing day, I count my achievements and then give glory to God. 

However, deep inside me, I believe there is much work to do. The future too, seems very uncertain. In the last few weeks, the only solace after providence has been my pen. The words above have thus been inscribed deep in my hearts that I long to read them over and over again. At the moment, I have a piece of paper where it's scribbled and attached to the wall in my room.


At other times, I feel I need to learn arabic or some other strange language so I can write these motivation pieces, for myself alone.
Then, I found her.


I begun to speak to myself. At times, loud enough that my room mates would query my sanity. This language of the mind is a tough one, a battle field of the plus and minuses.


Then I discovered that madness is not the absence of a sound mind, but the business of a sound mind. It is thinking everything first and thinking again, those things you thought earlier, making a perfect dough off the flour.
If you ever thought up anything good and such thing became successful, then, you have been mad.


But then, knowing too is a battle of the mind. So, the day you know who truly wrote this, then, you become a mad man too and you have your lucid period only when in rest- temporarily or permanently.


Signed: Me.


Today is Wednesday!

I know you're surprised that my heading sounds more like I'm giving
you a reminder of what day today is. However, it's deeper than that, a
tougher consequence on our conscience looms around us with each
counting day.

Gradually, the mist that covers our eyes clears off and we approach
the end of this rope. Yesterday seems more like the 1st of January,
2017 and we have a list of the fulfilled and a longer list of the
unfulfilled.

I vividly recall an article I earlier wrote, welcoming the new year.
It concerned resolutions and I will particularly quote some cuts of
the article here:

"The 'will' factor

I am no psychologist, but my understanding of the operations of the
brain and mind — being basic psycho-agents — places the will as strong
as the brain. At times, it may be stronger. The will remains an
integral part of the mind with some connectivity that bounds the trio
— the mind, the will and the brain.


My further poll to my friends leaves me at the point of choosing my
resolution before backing it with a will for accomplishment. That
could be problematic, as I think I would rather have the will before
setting a resolution.


As a result, I opine thusly: If, at the end of each year having
followed our will strongly, we decide to count our feats, there will
be no cause to leave empty plates at the dinner table, hoping they
will get filled the following year..."

(You may read the full article via this link:
http://nondoc.com/2017/01/03/the-mind-the-will-and-the-brain/ )

As this month rides on to its end, I believe this reminder post should
provoke thought, particularly speeding up the productivity rate in you
in the next few months.

Who's the next person?

In anything you do, please, consider the next person.


When I came on campus about a session ago, I began to write the diary
of an undergraduate. No sooner than I expected, the first diary went
full. If you saw me in part one with one big book like that, you got
it. The diary is home now (I vividly recall the corner of my room
where I dropped it.) though I see the possibility of it becoming
published soon.


Resuming this session, I chose not to continue the diary. I felt it
was time consuming. But then each day, I see myself turning back to
this diary. As I type, the second book is finished.

You may wonder why this seems a deviation from the title above- a
title that sounds more like a warning. The next few lines will contain
the last story that filled up my second diary- "The diary of an Undergraduate".


It was a bright afternoon, barely 1:00pm. That day, I had only one class scheduled for late noon. I had spent the bulk of the day at the upper reading room in my hall of residence before I chose to prepare for my class. I closed my books and headed to my room.

Minutes later, as I walked down the passage that led to the bathroom with my bucket in one hand, I saw this young man waiting patiently with a bucket of water and a tissue roll. A further look made me see the feet of another guy, revealed by the lower compartment of the toilet door. There, I guessed the guy outside was waiting for the other to finish his poo before going in.

I swerved right and went for my bath.

"Hey bro! Come here!"

I had barely poured water on when I heard the loud call out. I went silent.

At that point, the guy had summoned a fast moving "brother" (who apparently just came out of the toilet). He drew close, sluggishly with this "Ehen, wetin happen?" look.

"Baba, why you no flush nah?" was the interrogation that followed.

There and then, "Brother" went silent.

I had rushed out of the bathroom by then. Then I saw brother. He was the same one who used to do big boy at academics. I vividly recall his roll of "big and classic girls" who run after him at the faculty basement and the large numbers he believes he controls with his "big boy", "town guy" and "rich kid" lies whereas... (you can imagine)

I wondered why this stakeholder in the ministry of feminine affairs would do so. Funny enough, running water was available at the time.

(my page would soon be exhausted. What's my conclusion?)

Silently, I conclude this episode of my diary by saying that the need to be real cannot be over-emphasized. One neat lie could become dirty and dirtier in the cause of time. Let it be known too that the next person is watching.




Culled from Diary of an Undergraduate by Nelson Vincent Ayomitunde.

Nelson Vincent Ayomitunde is a blogger and poet who is in love with the Law and Tech. He loves God and has a passion for society's wholeness.

Think Saturday: The Paradox of Time



The paradox of our time is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers.

We have wider motor ways, but narrower view points.

We buy more things yet, we enjoy less.

We have bigger houses and smaller families.

We have more conveniences but less time to enjoy them.

We have advanced diplomas, degrees and Education but less common sense.

We have more knowledge, but less sound judgement.

We have more medicine, but less wellbeing.


We have multiplied our possesion but reduced our values.

We have high incomes and social profiles, but lower morals.

We have been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble
crossing the road to meet a new neighbour.

We have conquered outer space, but still find it an adventure to smile
to a stranger.

We have tried to clean the air, but polluted the soul


We have splited the atom but not our prejudices

We have collective wealth and yet, poor individuals abide
We have more free ways but narrower viewpoints

We talk too much, love too seldom and hate too often.

If these odds could connect and these dotted lines join up, then,
society would be better equipped for transformation.



Do not forget The New Man Writing Contest 2017. You can Click here for
further details.



(The Paradox of Time is a Paraphrased Quote of George Carlin)


(The "THINK SATURDAY" is a special series powered by The New Man Movement)



Powered by www.thenewman.org.ng

Life and choices

Life is the period between birth and death. It is a phase of earthly existence.
Choice however, involves decision making. It can include judging the
merits of multiple options and selecting one or more of them. One can
make a choice between imagined options or between real options
followed by the corresponding action. -Wikipedia


Life is governed by choices but sometimes it does not happen that way.
You don't choose your parents and you don't choose death most times.


You can only control what you choose. In the long run, we shape our
lives, and we shape ourselves. The process never ends until we die and
the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility.
-Eleanor Roosevelt



Too often in life, something happens and we blame other people for us
not being happy or satisfied or fulfilled. So the point is, we all
have choices, and we make the choice to accept people or situations or
not to accept situations.
-Tom Brady


Making a choice should be done carefully especially choice over
sensitive issues.

Choices could be right after meeting the right counsellors. We have
the greatest, The Holy Spirit(The Spirit of Jesus). Elders and wise
men also have their place in making right choices.







Araromi Oluwatobi Emmanuel

After Valentine, What's next?

The much celebrated February 14th has come and gone. One thing is noted that it forever remains a date on the calendar like every other day. How special we address each day depends on the tangible event accrued to that day. We celebrate birthdays, wedding anniversaries, remeberance and memorial dates but what's up with Valentine? 

Should we celebrate Love on the 14th alone and hate ourselves the rest of the year?


I believe there is no season for love and there should be no day for it. As the days go bye, we find causes to express love to the old man
on the street, the poor beggar with twin children, the slim sick lady, the hale man and even, the mad.

A sweep at the dailies leaves us updated with news of local and international terrorism, killings and hurt to the next human. It covers racism, discrimination and everything that invloves the word "Hate"


A reference to Geortge Orwell's "1984" leaves us with the issues of opposition, a reversal of order and so the question lies in "WHY SHOULD LOVE HATE?"

The issue of love should be a uniquitous remedy, healing our wounds, softening our sores. Let every day preach true love in our society.

Beyond the confines of a boy-girl relationship (as our society craves), love lives.

Beyond the cores of pretence and vanity, let love live, everyday.




With Love.
Nelson Vincent.





Nelson Vincent Ayomitunde is a blogger and poet who is in love with the Law and Tech. He loves God and has a passion for society's wholeness.

Falentine! Falentine!! Falentine!!!

The rhetorics of Funke Akindele popularly called Jenifa in dialetics and the rough but funny choice of words employed has carved an empire in society for her. As it is, most youths have caught the infection
with the popular "How is you?" taking it's toll on them.

It is her intellectual subscription that has resulted in the "Happy Falentine" episode. One that largely supports the boy-girl
relationship over other means of showing love to individuals in society.

History covers the 14th of February to be a sacred day to show love and be loved. Cutting across diverse definitions of what love could mean and tapping from various intellectual subscriptions, (running through the pastor, the imam, the couple, the aged, the boyfriend, the
atheist, the philosoper and an endless list) love has come to show herself as a varying factor, unified by the actions of persons.

NELOC Media went on streets to catch these views and we would make some aired here. Subsequently, others would come on our TV (You can subscribe and watch by clicking here)

Click here to view public opinion on matters of love! Or share this post to your public profiles via the buttons below to view them.

Hope you enjoyed these views? You can drop yours in the comment box!

The NELOC Team however wishes you a splendid valentine! Sharing Love!


Boxing the Box

The question, "After Christmas, what's next?" leads us to the twenty sixth of December every year. All around the world, we have the day for the exchange of gifts (boxing day) to be hallowed. In this part of the world, it remains of of our National Holidays.


Handle with Care: The CMCM Formulae

Handle with Care!


Well, it's not just a notice on some fragile equipment that makes us
take caution. A bunch of things around us require that we include
caution. Today, one of those would be properly looked into.

It's the subject "Criticism"

Simply put, Criticism is the opinion of A over B. Overtime, it creates
the better person in a man if he follows certain instructions. That's
where the Handling with care comes in.


1. Look beyond the criticism and see the critic. If it's someone you
respect, listen to what they say. If it's someone who is constantly
critical, do not place too much value on what they say- they are most
likely projecting their frustrations on you. Basically, question
yourself if your critic sincerely wants to help you.



2. Try not to take yourself too seriously. The truth is, we do things
we regret. However, the ability to laugh at yourself and learn from
those things signify the growth into maturity.


3. Know the difference between constructive and destructive criticism.
Learn to interprete it by asking:
a. In what spirit was it given? If the critic's attitude is kind, the
criticism is constructive.
b. When is the criticism given? If someone criticises you publicly,
usually, their intentions are not the best.
c. Why is the criticism given? For personal hurt or one's benefit?



Furthermore, the individuaal must
1. Demonstrate maturity emotionally
2. Realise that good people get criticises
3. Keep a good attitude
4. Concentrate on missions and change your mistakes- Note that undue
criticism allows you to Concentrate on your Mistakes and Change your
Mission- (Concentrate-Mistakes-Change-Mission)
5. Spend time with the right people.


Now you know the CMCM formulae?
So, handle criticisms with care.





Nelson Vincent Ayomitunde is a blogger and poet who is in love with the Law and Tech. He loves God and has a passion for society's wholeness.

When Productivity Pays

Kokon is a young lady. She falls in the category of people the world refers to as invalids.
.
However,

Letters to a Freshman III

Letters to a Freshman III Hello Freshman,
I know my last letter got to you clearly. I saw your comments and feedback and I would work on them. Today however, let me take you through these words:

“Those who refuse to learn from history, are bound to repeat it”.

I will continue in this story. It's a real one, do not be scared. It happened not to me, but a friend (on permission). The names therein are undisclosed though.


Kwame remained silent. He watched Ebeme move her lips over his and caressed his body with hers. Several thoughts crossed his mind. "Was this right? Should he withdraw from her at this moment?" The Anglomoz location fully supported the continuity of their actions. It was dark, the solar lights having gone out. The electric power had gone out too. Moreso, they were at a place hidden from prying eyes. This was the exact time I paddles my legs down from Academics. I had gone to read and in my tired state, I desired a bed to slump in and sleep.


As I took the last bend that led towards Angola Hall, I saw them- my girlfriend and best friend, having sex, right in the gutter; her moans begging to go louder...


This is the kind of things we used to see back in part one. Now, you should recall the quote I started with earlier.


You know, so many persons have gotten another "degree", wonderful pregnancies. Others who were very lucky not to get the degree in time have chosen to continue the trend, "attend anglomoz dating classes" and later graduate with STDs.


If you would ask why Ebeme went after Kwame or the otherwise, I would say I know not. Probably the looks, the money, the popularity (in his department)...

Let me be frank with you. One of the 10 commandments of this ogba that I have learnt is this: "The fear of Anglomoz is the beginning of wisdom"


Anglomoz however has good sides. It's the equivalent of "Eagle's square" at Abuja if you do not know- the centre of almost all activities in OAU.


Have you not seen MEN from town who park vehicles waiting for Bae? Or the high undergraduates who are seeking "joy" (as they call it)?


Those children of Part II that visit there ehn... (Let me not talk this yet.)


You will sha enjoy Anglomoz. Please visit there daily, remembering NEVER to spend beyond 30 minutes.




Nelson Vincent

Child and Punishment: Contrasting Generations.

At times, I wonder why I have issues with this younger generation. Despite these issues, there's a lot of lesson to be learnt from them. A necessary part of society we say, or

Article: Where Responsibility lies

Where Responsibility Lies As I sat from the corner of the hall, I watched this funny scenario. How funny it might be, I handpicked the lessons and decided to relay them to you.

"Mummy, he hit me! , she said. "It was after a wedding reception, the guests had started to leave when this young girl came crying to her mother telling her this. Her mother's query made her realise that it was Ann's twin brother who had hit her on the head for a reason that sounded untrivial. Ann remained convinced that it was her brother's fault and he ought to be punished with her receiving mum's sympathy and be absolved of all responsibility.



Alex, her brother on the other hand is equally certain she started it. "She hit me first and took my toy", was his defence. Then right in front of their mum, they began a verbal altercation that led to their mum beating them up.



Similarly, In life, we grow older, but not always wiser. "It just happened" we say, then proceed to blame people and circumstances. We dance to the tune yet we do not want to play the piper, so we complain about our consequences, saying it was not our fault.
.
Similarly, the elder brother in the parable of the prodigal son wanted the priveleges of being a son, but he was not willing to accept the obligations and responsibility that came with being a brother. Little wonder he could not celebrate his brother's return.



Truly, life would be better if we acknowledge our faults and know that even though someone else had initiated it, our part in such actions, remain our responsibilities...



Nelson Vincent Ayomitunde is a blogger and poet who is in love with the Law and Tech. He also loves God and has a passion for society's wholeness.

I am a Prodigal by Nelson Vincent Ayomitunde.

I am a Prodigal "You know, I'm a freshman, the only son of my father who is a very wealthy man"

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