fear fear (vol 2)

 
You will not know or understand until you visit and spend time in the streets of Jos, going from Ray-Field to Naraguta hostel and checking upon some peeps in Abuja hostel. Social center in Nara’G so on point, with Baba Onne running both local and foreign booze; grown ladies everywhere with maximum reasoning. So 

 THEwriter needed to re-visit the capital of plateau state to see how things are after missing her with a passion, and also to physically access the extent of the damage triggered by years of unrest after coming to terms with the fact that things will never remain the same. #zeroeleven, #makumba.

The plot scaled through and eventually the journey commenced with Dudu on the wheels and the sponsor of the trip behind the car. After Mararaba there was this feeling of fear and discomfort in the air. All those tabloids and their front page news of upheavals and incessant fights in Jos kept revisiting THEwriter’s mind. The faces of loved ones I left at home flashing before me here and there, even on the faces of road-side masara sellers.

We arrived at about 6p.m and the news of the curfew spoilt the heart of THEwriter. Finally finally we met with zito and he took charge, alongside my man grant. After a nice Kush session to clear eye we proceeded to Semshak for 1 or 2 Kwalba of HARP.

Like I mentioned in volume 1 of this episode “…it is good to take time-out to travel out of the usual and find peace inside….” It is that search of peace and happiness that we went to tidy brief alcohol.

As we approached near pharmacy from old Hotel D Lag, all four happily strolling, JTF (joint task force) just show up from no where… mogbe… my mind fly, I say God who carry me come this town oh! I for just de D’OS de lick my HARP, abi no be the same taste? Shapaly the Ford Ranger pulled over and like 6 soljo jump down with guns and frowning faces(I had to notice that); at once zito went ‘officers, officers’ then the officer in charge of the patrol came out of the passengers side and started interrogating us. He went ‘who are you?’ zito say ‘a soldier’, them ask grant ‘who are you?’ grant holding up his i.d card, said ‘an officer sir’ na dere I sabi say dudu and I don die…bloody civilians. I knew I would not bring out that my corper i.d card, I for chop beta slap. Then pointing to me he said ‘are you an officer too?’ I shut up, beta ice-block enter my mouth, at once my highness clear. zito intercepted and said ‘no but we are together’ them ask Dudu, himself shut up. The man said ‘ok’ now pointing at Dudu and THEwriter he said ‘enter the truck’ at once and with speed me and Dudu fly enter. Dudu come go si-don for soljo space for that back wey dem de put crime-fighters thief people, the soldier shout ‘are you sitting on my seat’ immediately we shout ‘no sir’ we pam for ground wey cold die. This was about 3 hours into curfew while negotiations continued... inside my mind I say like 6 Hail Mary , 2 Our Father but  I no complete any because the fear too much… see soldier bad forget  joke .. dem no touch us but the kind fear wey catch me No b play play something.  I reason many things; kai!!!  This people fit say make I carry Dudu do frog-jump, dem fit say make I drink one bag of pure water, they might also say I should mop-up the wet ground with my shirt.

Finally they freed us thanks to ‘identification’  trust me no be small shayo go down because to commot for that state of shock no be play play something, also more HARP fall to calm THEwriter’s nerve as she did not turn up as planned, and no other was in town.  Following day was fresh too, even though there were pocket violence in Bauchi road, Azi still raise us to secretariat junction to enter car back home.

God who supports positive things brought us back and Jaguar was waiting. The fun continued…

Calculate the risk, add God then have fun. However, We JOS want peace in the Plaru

Thank You

@pokesville

daHiRu MusdaPHER

 

The writer sees a just need to put down this piece and recommend a man of great repute that all of Earth will agree to. The writer rightly understands the difficulty associated in service of a system, or a corporation or even a Nation; and has the singular honour to appraise this Nigerian Adult. If for no reason, the mere fact that he stayed on in the country and served for many years is ample grounds to accord reverence to him. A lot of people were begotten the same time as Dahiru, a lot of people had his opportunity to exit Naija’s shores to study and gain foreign knowledge and regard; however not all returned to serve in any capacity. 

Truth is Nigeria is a place where the general system is not too operational in full-force, consequently when people get the slightest opportunity to nack-out they never return… (Shame on you) this Musdapher man came back; and even while he was away he played a vital role in the Nigerian Affair. History noted the efforts he made commenting on the old-school coup de tat that removed some serious Northern Leaders wey-back. However perceived, it shows he had the North and the Nation at heart. Recently he proposed constitutional amendments to the Senate President, even though the writer believes it could have been done earlier, the writer still commends him as others assumed, sat-on and left the office of the CJN and didn’t do nothing but fight and expose themselves over election matters.

Truth is when the writer hears or reads on dailies about excess praises accorded to man as against God he feel its over-rated, because man is only but a product of God; why then should man receive much exaltation. But its also interesting to tell that when you are still aspiring to enter into the Nigerian Bar seeing all the glamour it possesses, all the knowledge accruable from practice for that extended time, you’ll praise with strong words the Highest Judicial Adult in Nigeria and trust the writer, a lot of African Judicial systems and officers will agree.

Two academic years in the University of Jos did not let the writer understand the depth of Law as it was on Diploma basis and secondly, the writer’s habits were sponsored by others; so the vivid picture was not captured, neither did the writer understand what it entailed. However four calendar years or five academic years in Madonna University Okija clearly pointed to the writer that professionalism meant a lot more hard-work, more focus and more determination all fused with plenty more prayer JUST FOR LLB… law school no join oh! Oya Complete the story…

Now ascend to the level of Justice, undoubtedly another realm entirely. Could be substituted with assuming the office of a mini-god; a height where your verbal pronouncement can take a man’s life, can grant truth a chance, can generate tears, can make smile… basically can make or mar. now put the above written and multiply it by his many years of service this Man put in, now the answer you’ll arrive at is the reason the writer’s big heart is bleeding, and that is visible through this print.

This Man is not flawless, no man is. The writer isn’t also. More mistakes did not carry him to that extent; he did more right things… the writer has used the concept of balance of probabilities to determine his case and has scored him adequately.

The writer understands all these and that is why he formally decided to put this big piece and formally show appreciation and also wish the Honorable CJN (as he then was) a very belated birthday and many more Years ahead.

Thank You

@pokesville

fEAr FeaR (vol. 1)

Certain people realize certain somewhat discomforting results if they do certain things and basically just walk into them because certain people are not just AFRAID… for some it’s fun when it’s risky; when the equation doesn't balance, because it means no body in reasonable recorded history has attempted it; so undoubtedly it’s a fresh quest. FEAR FEAR people and in fact lazy people will say it’s stupid and cowardly; however the writer sees it as Bravery.

Stepping into the unknown defines adventure and that basically re-defines who you are. Sometimes the fun is lost when you know the eventual outcome. Understand that fearless reporters risk everything to bring the news to you live or in a pre-recorded broadcast. Would you call Christiane Amanpour foolish or brave?

In the writer’s case, his love for adventure was sealed, signed and consented to by nature when he met with all his men tey-tey ago as they all have like-similarities as regards going the extra-mile to catch-trips…

Fear is a mental state of mind, just like Joy, or like happiness, or even anxiety. It is just a realm the mind finds itself which can immediately affect the rest of the body, if not controlled in time… how do you feel when you remember the face of one bully in the hood back then…? So afraid that you would want to change road and follow another side. When you hear the horn of His car, your mind will cut because you remember the cash you removed from His brief case will cause severe brushing… when you see Aunty Bola’s face in primary 3 in your sleep and wake up shapali. Where is all that FEAR now…? You have conquered it overtime. That’s why I agree with oyibo when they say ‘time heals all wounds’ this saying should not be subjected to usage only when you are consoling a friend her guy broke her heart; even in this context it can be applied.

Everybody fears an out-come all the time, regardless of how mean they might look. Even IBB de fear steady. What however differentiates him (IBB), the writer, OBJ from you is how we control our minds seconds after that fear creep in; or how we react immediately after our minds travel out to fearVILLE. That is why there is need for steady calmness, and for mental relaxation. That is why it is good to take time out to travel out of the usual and find peace inside, so when those trouble times re-approach you will handle them with care and utmost precision.

The reason for this write-up is the journey to Plateau State capital amidst all the upheavals; and truth is that maximum fun was recorded, and fresh memory created to add to the list of plenty trips garnered by the writer.

See you in volume 2.

Thank You

@pokesville

uNfulFiLLed lOVe

The writer is 26 years far into earth’s reality... Facebook does not have a ‘living’ parental advisory arrangement… and that happens to be the best means the writer uses to create awareness of new posts. The writer truly does not like the idea of private placement, so the posts are in the open. The writer needs to let everybody know it’s out. He’s got selected people he shares his blogs with to use them as a platform to alert a wider range of people on the publishing of a fresh blog. The writer does not have money for bulk sms, well even if he did, not all doctors would give health-tips for free. You have to meet him half way. Twitter users are unserious; there is unreasonable page view traffic via twitter. (Some of my peeps de try sha) however, Facebook gives the writer the best platform. as He makes use of groups to create knowledge of a new stuff, Madonna university group, brace group, one Ibusa group, contemporary legal issues group and plenty other groups; the writer also shares the info of new issues on walls or timelines of serious friends on facebook. The writer also sends mails to serious writers to read and recommend.

Certain times, certain writers really feel a need to relate certain matters that traditional African/Nigerian  society would consider immoral simply because of content or merely ‘understanding or perception’ truth is there is this female the writer has serz cravings for. As regards the age affixed above, the writer has reached marriageable status, just awaiting cash to set-in. Well if it’s wrong to be sincere, I await Jete…

Visual is blurry, because e don tey small wey I see her; it was in a friends party in Efab, in life-camp. She had a purple dress on; she came with a couple of friends, all hi-tech, fresh gadgets cast, BB and tins all looking young and promising. This particular female redefined the writer’s scope of feminine reasoning, as the writer found a reason to corroborate her purple appearance with one female’s own he saw wey-back. The dress was short; slightly above her knees exposing her light-skin thighs which seemed like it was worn for the writer’s viewing pleasure alone. The body glittered; it signaled involvement of expensive cream, or probably just nature. Normal face though, but, there was serious composure in her persona. She didn’t talk too much, just kept cool with her girls; she jus comport. That girl is the writer’s spec, height arrange, hair-do intact, her accent is in conformity with the writers specified standards. Her lips, those lips… created internal joy and uncontrolled excitement which delighted the writer; just one kiss will do. (First) then having her in the writer’s abode and reserving exclusive rights to all the afore-mentioned parts of that her rather skinny appealing body. The truth is ice-block entered the writer’s mouth; the writer couldn’t talk, cos liver fail and even Benson&Hedges couldn’t assist.

The reality is that the writer does not even know her Name, of where she lives, or what she does. The writer is just lost in his thought. Apparently this is reality, the person you admire does not send you, the one you detest is all over… this is the primary reason why real-life na actor and humanBin b boze or vice-versa. 

The writer still wishes in his big heart that you are His, and pray an end to this UNFULFILLED life he is living. Purple Dress please where are you?

As regards parental advisory: the writer no-send, ME FIRST

 Thank you

@pokesville

VAMPIRES

 

See the writer is no joyous state of mind, nothing like smiling for now. The writer has found out a truth that will affect a lot of minds and this truth will be let out without fear or favor. A generation has passed on without having the supreme opportunity to impact on the Nation, their ideas, concepts and creativity.

This conglomerate of states christened Nigeria has allowed her older sons to hold everything hostage. The adults that are still in the helm of affairs are sadly but truly in their seventies. Unfortunately all age brackets lower than them will painfully die without having the atmosphere to contribute their own quota to Nation development. In alphabetical order these men are all in their seventies Abdulsalami Abubakar, Buhari, IBB, Oga OBJ and other underground men all in that age group still have a vicious hold of the Nation which can be substituted with ‘afro-comb’ (that plastic comb used to tidy afro and long hair that has an eternal grip, that is often used to refer to stingy people…aka Araldite or Aka Gum) that is the only visual matter the writer can use to reason the extent of power they hold and control in the country.

Open your eyes people, these men do not really posses the strength the tabloids portray. ‘Elephants are fighting’ ‘iroko iroko tins’ no they do not. All they rely on is the trust and loyalty they built in some of our parents still in Government while they were serving military heads helping to surviving their prowess… means they are using us to work, and to preserve them, their business and the shameless respect they have… ‘VAMPIRES’ 

So if you are 40 or above you are either a tool, or you will exit earth also not differently from any random Nigerian because power still revolves round these seventy year olds. I need not remind you of Lawan’s jonzing, that was Baba’s move and see how freshly and smoothly done everything was. And that is trulu why they never look worried… ok excluding Buhari, I’ve seen that senior-man cry. *eyesClosed

The pain the writer bears in his Big-Heart is enormous to the point he is actually in tears right now. Honestly there is no particular drive behind this write-up just vexation; because I’ve been hearing these names since wey-back when the writer was a young promising lad with a lot of dreams. Now these Ye-Ye, Lazy folks just seize everything; enrich themselves and lock-up on the Nation. There has to be some sought of take-over because we cannot allow these credential-Less Men that defy death to hold on till we come, age and die without achieving nothings for the generation un-born. Since it’s rather obvious they do not care about us, talk less of the generation to come.

I also write to these young Nigerian fools who do not want a change in the welfare of the majority of Nigerians, who already subscribe to this idea of extreme fraud, to pick up whatever medium they can use to fight these internal slave masters. You see Oyibo freed us, and then they captured us; now we are going no where because they do not have ‘fair-skin’ they are black like us so they camouflage.

You might want to argue Mr. Jona isn’t seventy yet, that’s true, but the writer made mention of ‘tools’ above…abi? Come on board with me on this brief flight of thought.  If we talk we’ll be killed, abi? If we do not talk we’ll still die. So if ‘killed’ and ‘die’ are translated to mean timely or untimely exit from earth, then we’ll kpeme either way; so why not voice out?

If we do not talk corruption will ensure the following:

1: Naija will never win world cup

2: forget 9ice, Grammy will never enter Naija

3: Education will continue to way-ward

4: boko boys will continue to PAP

5: Nigerian Premier League will never alright

Speak-out…no fear…God dey

Thank You

@pokesville