Photo Credit: Big Vee Photography

The Catholic Church is one of the oldest churches in Nigeria. In Igbo land, the Catholic church seem to be indigenous. If you were born today, you would think the Pope (or General overseer) is an Igbo man.


In my country, Nigeria, there are three major tribes — The Igbos (Easterners), the Yorubas (The Westerners) and the Hausas (The Northerners).

While the Igbos are mostly Christians, and the Hausas are mostly Muslims, the Yorubas have a mixture of the both and are regarded as the most tolerant tribe amongst the three.

A Catholic Church in Omuma, Imo State, Nigeria.

The Catholic Church in Igbo land is one I have always been opportune to attend, especially the one at the end of the year.


But this year, I spent the end of the year in Yoruba land. I went to the church and it seemed ‘normal’.

Now, in the Igbo land, there are other churches too. Like Anglican, The Redeemed and some other Pentecostal and some other African instituted indigenous churches.

Catholic congregation during a mass in Igbo land, Nigeria

The thing is, the Catholic church is usually the most populated. They usually run two to three services because of the crowd. But during the Yuletide period, they’d compress all of them to one service.

In this one service, the Catholic mass which is renowned for how brief it usually is, is never brief.


In actuality, the main service would be brief. But when it comes to the money part. That is where the main issue is.

From Thanksgiving, usually a very long procession and testimonies, to bazaar to donations and financial support which will take hours.

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A Catholic church in Arochukwu, Abia State, Nigeria.

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The Yorubas seem not to travel to their places of origin,they mostly just reside wherever they’re born. So the Catholic church here isn’t filled as such.

Also, the Reverend Father or Pastor in Igbo land, is a mini god. They do make sure he doesn’t lack. From food items to equipments he may need, some even go ahead to gift him car. But it seem not to be the case this way.


In Nigeria, the Igbos are usually said to be huge lovers of money, if you have stayed in the country, you would understand it.

When they do return, it is now a time for show of wealth. For them, during the Christmas period (from 20th December to 2nd January), every occasion or event is an avenue to showcase your wealth.

A Catholic Church in Enugu State, Nigeria.

The Catholic Church in Christmas is another place you also go to know those who have huge amount of money from their donations, offertory and Thanksgiving after Thanksgiving.

In another news, it is believed that the Igbos massive love for the Catholic church started during the Nigerian Civil War, when the Catholic were the only ones who could provide aid to them.


But then, in all, when you really need a very Merry Christmas, the Igbo land is the place for you, as they spend all they can to be merry during the Yuletide.

Happy New Year!

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“Nigeria is a country at war with its future. What a shame!” ~ Dr. Joe Abah

Give a black man power, and he will turn on all his brothers. There’s nothing truer than this, and I am not even joking!

Was this the Nigeria our fathers fought for, laying down their lives gruesomely? How did we get here? How do we get out of this mess? At times like this, one can’t help but worry, can we ever get out of this?

To the whites, we say it’s racism, xenophobic attacks, when they remorselessly murder and prey on our comrades; spilling our very blood out there without a second thought, but now, what is your excuse?

What’s your excuse for turning on your family? For deliberately trivializing the lives of the very people you swore to protect, what is your excuse?

Clinging on to power and never wanting to lose a finger’s-grip on it, you’ve done so at expense of innocent Nigerian lives protesting peacefully against a criminal and failed government.

Against a sophisticated criminal system where the rich gets richer and the poor? We know how that ends.

Deploying the military to shoot and kill armless and harmless peaceful protesters at the Lekki Toll gate all in fear that the current system you’ve been feeding fat off might be brought down and genuine sustainable development will be brought to 60 year country with nothing to show for it!

While such a fast and decisive action has never been taken against the insurgents, Boko Haram, whom we’ve been allegedly fighting for more than a decade!

Not even against the killings in southern Kaduna was such swift response taken — but here we are, with lifeless bodies littered all over at the Toll Gate, blood flowing endlessly, tears and wailings of brothers, without sisters, sisters without brothers, fathers without daughters and mothers without sons! All of which could have been avoided. Aren’t we just enemies of our own success?

What’s your excuse for popping the head of Oke open when all he wanted was a Nigeria where the lives of humans will matter more than that of a cow!

A Nigeria with a decent police force where bail is free not just on paper and in TV commercials. A Nigeria where police brutality is reduced to the barest minimum.

A Nigeria where FOREX traders are not seen as thieves, a Nigeria where living a good life and driving a fancy car does not automatically make you a yahoo boy.

A Nigeria where serial killers and hardened criminals with no regard for human life are recruited into the police force and let loose on the streets. What’s the aim?

What in Christ sake does your soul feel when you watch your fellow man bleed and beg for death?

What’s your excuse for rendering a mother childless? What’s your excuse for leaving a child without care?

We pride in diversity and tribes, but isn’t our skin colour a common factor suppose to seep through our veins and make us one?

You preach money? How much wealth can you aquire to plead innocent of the curses you laid upon yourself?

You preach respect for order and authority? I laugh, who respects a murderer?

#EndSARS #EndSWAT #EndPoliceBrutality

Yubedee Pyamene Anokari, is a contributor on the blog, an amazing content writer and entrepreneur. Currently, a student of environmental studies at the University of Port Harcourt, an SDG advocate, passionate about personal growth and development.


I have been a children teacher in my church, Eternal Sacred Order of Cherubim and Seraphim (one of Africa’s oldest indigenous churches) since 2017. If it was something that demanded celebration, I think I should be counting an anniversary as at this time. In my church, there is an annual children thanksgiving that takes place every second weekend of October. This celebration features series of competitions, including quiz, debate and essay competitions amongst various categories.

That particular year, everything seemed to be heading towards failure. I then took it upon myself that it would be different. We did come close on two occasions. Coming second place in one and fourth on the other. We didn’t win any, but we came close. Then came the second year, we did struggle but this time, we were also rans again. It was painful, but we were now a force to reckon with. By the third year, we emerged victorious on so many events and finally winning the overall first position. It was really a sweet moment. We were gearing up for more of it, before the pandemic suspended the whole jamboree that came with the annual thanksgiving.

Now, as someone who had been in the department before then, I think I had some experience or knowledge of where my teachers failed. I discovered personally, that people didn’t like a perfect preacher. They also enjoyed real life stories aside the bible. All these I employed in the teens class, and another thing I did was to crack a few jokes here and then. But one thing I learnt is, you have to make sure you avoid shaming them. You also have to know a thing or two about motivating teenage students. Also know there are various teaching methods for teenagers and also for younger children. Most tips I employ to teach teenagers can be found here.

Initially, I feared teaching the younger classes. I felt I would not be able to come to their terms. I felt even my knowledge on types of teachers would not be able to help. As I would totally need a whole different teaching methods for nursery class. I knew I needed to be friends with them, and at the same time be respected by them. There had to a measure, a balance between love and being stern.

Without enough pictures, I had to revert to a style I can not ever forget that was used to preach the story of David and Goliath to me, while in junior secondary school. This was a story I had heard numerous times, but it seemed like this day I was hearing it fo the first time. Moreso, it seemed like the preacher, Pastor Dave Onyekwere, was a witness to the event, he narrated it like he stood and watched David and Goliath. He, Pastor Dave Onyekwere of Seventh-Day Adventist Church, was the principal of my school then, Adventist Comprehensive High School, Elele; here in Rivers State, Nigeria. He made us wish he taught us everyday.

So this method of his, was one I employed as my teaching method for children. I enjoyed how I grabbed all of their attention. Though, the children department in a church seems to be peripheral and less important. But people fail to know that most times, failed adulthood is as a result of improper childhood; and unlike the adult section, the children department is the only place where you have the minds of people, highly receptive of the teachings you feed them.

One sad perk of being a children teacher in the church, is that, to every child you are their hero. A pastor could make wrong utterances or mistakes and people would understand that he is a human, but to the child, you are a hero with no chink in your armour.

Paul Chikaike Kalu alias Paul Kay is a prolific writer of prose, poetry, and articles; a content creator, a guest columnist on magazines and blogs, a copywriter with huge experience in ghost writing. A member of Association of Nigerian Authors. Author of THE VISIT, (his first published work on paperback) now on Amazon and on Okadabooks. You can reach out to him on


This morning, when I decided to check my phone for updates on all social media platforms; on WhatsApp, I saw on a friend’s status, something funny and perturbing. She had gone to register her SIM card. The guy at the SIM registration centre who processed the documents for her, had copied down her phone number without her consent, to keep in touch with her.

Now, he even followed her to her house. How much NO would be enough for this guy to understand that she is not interested. This is a one of the many questions that bothers ladies. While a lady is feeling that she is being pestered; most times, the guy (the pester) often feels her NO is just her way of saying he should try harder. How this works is one thing that is very difficult to fathom. She shared a screenshot of their conversation on WhatsApp, after he had sent her a message.

Pester: I can’t just get you off my head, I really like you and want us to be friends. I promise not to hurt your feelings, just give me a chance in your life.

Uninterested Girl: No, No, Leave me alone!

Pester: If it were possible for me to stop thinking of you, I wouldn’t have been disturbing you.

Uninterested Girl: I really don’t like you or have any personal feelings growing anywhere for you. Leave me alone! You took my number off your customer care book for this? I’m really being nice.

She ended up blocking calls from his number, and also blocking him on WhatsApp, but part of her is still scared that the young man might stalk her to her house.

Another instance was one that happened in Ondo state of Nigeria, where a man beat up a married woman and tore her cloth because she reacted after he touched her buttocks. Though the guy was arrested by the Nigerian Police on her complaint, but somehow, he was released.

Many times, ladies complain of how they want to be able to lead a normal life, and not live as prey. It saddens me because I can’t really know how they feel. But how about the males, how about them. What leads to this rush of desire on sighting a woman. How does her negative reaction motivate you further? What makes you feel her no would be changed by your constant push?


Growing up, as way back as Primary school, I never taught anyone could be dull. I always felt we were all intelligent. But with time, I discovered that there were people like Joko who couldn’t pronounce ‘if’ or couldn’t spell a cup. Most times we use to sing “shame, shame, shame — shame” to her, whilst clapping, dancing and making funny faces, to mock and annoy her.

Now, you know how most parts of people’s body grow larger before the others, so did my head. It was like I was a boy with a man’s head, my only saving grace was that ‘I know book’. I remember moving and my dad switching me to a school of my choice at the time, especially as my new favourite neighbor — Philomena, attended the school. I wanted to get close to Philomena and all her ‘fine’ friends.

I didn’t even start on time, I started late. I played a lot, I really did play a lot. I think then, the brilliance just came to me. By the end of term, I scored fourth position; the next term, the teacher when scolding a boy that dropped in position, mentioned how the ‘new boy’ that came halfway, came out fourth position. The next term, I was the best student in the class and so then, I became popular and loved in my class. I was also short with a big head, so easy to describe.

My dad, one that was so proud of us, promised I would attend a boarding school, I did. Of course, in boarding school, the protection of my parents were not there anymore. The ‘big head’ remarks didn’t stop there, it blossomed (laughs). In my class of 62 students, I came out first. It was one of the proudest moments for me. By now, I had started studying, but not as some of my friends who still didn’t come out best. Most persons usually called me ‘deceiver’ when playing with other kids. Though, at the time, I didn’t like studying when others did, I preferred studying alone and quietly, while I schooled others during prep time.

At the end of my first year, I came third overall best student in the whole of Junior secondary. The best was also a first year student like me — Sabbath Usenobong, while the second position — Byron Amaokachi, was a class above us. But, by my third year, I had started having a crush — Iniyekpnonimi Suobo. Iniye, for short, wanted to be a friend, and I think I misread the signals, to think I was just between twelve and thirteen. This I could say was the beginning of my problem, as the term before my Junior certificate exam, I was the 7th best while Iniye came third.

After junior secondary, I wanted to switch schools. I wanted one that was sought by many. Federal Government College, Port Harcourt. I remembered how I wrote that exam with confidence, finished before time. I just felt like the anointed one. My very first term in this school, I was struck with Chicken pox, two weeks to our exams. I went home but came on the very first day of exams. I still came out fourth. I felt it was the sickness, next term I will conquer. But you know what? I never conquered. Anyaogu Ojichukwu, was now like the anointed one. I always felt I was more intelligent, but why was he doing better, why was he grasping things, that I took a while longer to grasp?

The worse of it all, was when the seniors above us, sat and wrote their senior secondary certificate examinations, and left. We were the seniors in the school, and of course everybody wanted to show. At this point, I wanted to be intelligent but not a nerd, and I also wanted to be ‘a senior’. Hmm(chuckles), Well, onto the tertiary institution — University of Port Harcourt. I was deep in school politics to the detriment of grades, not until a talk from my course adviser then — Dr. Sydney O. Nzeako, who said I was walking with a wring circle, where others are getting F and I am getting E, and being happy. He said I am supposed to be among the As and Bs. Twas then I looked around and felt he was right.

By my third year, was when the struggle really started for me, I struggled, and got stuck in the middle (or what you’d call average). I knew I was better than it, but twas where I got stuck on, cos of wasted time in my first and second year.

Now, do not think I don’t believe in talent, I do. But the point is, you should never rest on your laurels. You should never rest on talents alone, back that talent with hard work. Put some muscles into what you do. Don’t just feel talent alone is enough. Get yourself exhausted! Get yourself exhausted investing in yourself. Never get distracted! We all have equal time to be unequal. Happy new month (winks)

Paul Chikaike Kalu alias Paul Kay is a prolific writer of prose, poetry, and articles; a content creator, a guest columnist on magazines and blogs, a copywriter with huge experience in ghost writing. A member of Association of Nigerian Authors. Author of THE VISIT, (his first published work on paperback) now on Amazon and on Okadabooks. You can reach out to him on


Good morning, I do believe by now the whole ‘happy new month’ vibe would have died down. So my voice can be heard. I actually became a year in blogging on 24th day of August. A year in blogging has not really been all that gold. It has been different things, but believe me not rosy. But then, thinking of it, it has also been nice too.

I think it was few weeks to the launch of my first book, a lot was going through my head. A huge lot, I felt like making another book despite this one yet to be launched. I also wanted a space on the internet where I could reach to a lot of people.

Before I go further, A blog is a website that allows users to reflect, share opinions, and discuss various topics in the form of an online journal, sometimes letting readers comment on their posts. Most blogs are written in a slightly informal tone (personal journals, news, businesses, etc.) Entries (also known as postings) typically appear in reverse chronological order

I also discovered that the one of the mistakes you must avoid as a blogger is the niche definition. You have to know what you want to do. What kind of blog you actually want to put out there. What audience you want to reach out to, which audience have the message you are putting out there.

Consistency shouldn’t even be over emphasized. It is like a thing that everyone should adopt, in every part of their life. If you cherish growth and you want growth, then you should be consistent. You should keep on doing what you do, even on hardest days. Even on days when it seems like there is no push in you, create one. Always have a post to make, in times of block, find a way to unblock it (shout out to Amaka Eke-John & Emmanuel Duru).

Another thing I learnt is, in all you do as a creative, never lose yourself. Your works should never lose you. The moment your works begin to lose you, they begin to lose identity. As a creative, all works of yours created by you, should always have your DNA. You would always know when a work is not good enough.

Also, as a creative; put less focus on money and more work on your art. Put efforts on taking your art to the next level. Never stop at what you have, never ever be contented. Channel your desire, channel it strongly to growing.

Lastly, just enjoy what you do! If you don’t, then this might not be the right place for you. Happy new year and happy new month (winks)

Paul Chikaike Kalu alias Paul Kay is a prolific writer of prose, poetry, and articles; a content creator, a guest columnist on magazines and blogs, a copywriter with huge experience in ghost writing. A member of Association of Nigerian Authors. Author of THE VISIT, (his first published work on paperback) now on Amazon and on Okadabooks. You can reach out to him on


Ibinabo Sekibo

Ever gotten so tired of the world,that you decide to stay faraway from it? You don’t even think twice about the decision you’ve made all you want is your sanity, because you feel like you are running mad. I can relate very well, and it’s funny how in those moments when you want to keep to yourself, that’s when everyone thinks to indulge you the most. It is annoying even, but for the sake of etiquette and courtesy we just have to smile, and keep on communicating, when in reality that’s the last thing we want to be doing.

Well,how much is enough? I mean the isolation from the world, the feeling of laying in bed all day with nowhere to go, or friends to hangout with? Even when you know a lot of persons are craving your attention, missing the excitement that can only be present in your eyes, or that comforting hug only you could give, and let’s not forget the most beautiful smile, and worst still the way you can make them laugh, forgetting all their burdens at that moment. We may not know what we do, but we do these little things for these persons without even knowing.

Contrary to the popular belief that ‘no man is an island’, a lot of persons are islands today. At a point in everyone’s life we just want our peace and the we start withdrawing ourselves from all forms of human interaction without even knowing it. It’s funny what life can throw our way at times, and from taking time to heal, we discover we love it the most in our little shells, no going out, sitting in, or laying in our beds, scrolling through social media and doing basically nothing except the things we need to stay alive, I don’t know if you relate with what I am
saying here.

When we are in such situations, we discover that interaction with other persons begin to irritate us, and even when we force ourselves to visit places and persons, there is no buzz, no
excitement in you about it, nothing to keep the conversation alive or even make you feel like going back there. What should we even do in these situations? How do we react to those
moments where we always want to stay to ourselves? No one has the perfect solution to these, but let’s see what I’ve got for my favourite audience.

While keeping to yourself to get your sanity and get back on track is very healthy, it could become dangerous to you as a human. We are conditioned to be social, and not minding how
healthy it will be, the moment you don’t ever feel like leaving your bed, or worse still you start feeling hollow, it becomes bad. That is when keeping your distance becomes too much, by the time you realise what is happening, you will discover that you’ve missed out on a lot and you really don’t know what is happening anymore.

Not to worry much about it, but when you see you have become so secluded that the first defense mechanism when people try to be close to you, is to shut them out, then you know you need to start working on yourself. First things first, you should see reason in life and socializing, seeing reasons on why you should hangout with your friends frequently. Because, anything to happen, it needs to happen in your mind first. Then, start hanging out with one or two of your closest
friends you enjoy their company. Before you know it, you are back on track and enjoying all you did with your friends before your supposed period of break.

In conclusion, a point comes in life when everything becomes too much, at that moment a much needed break would suffice, take it, get to know yourself and after the break don’t forget to get on with your life, don’t let yourself get too comfortable while on your break.

IBINABO SEKIBO is a contributor on the blog. An avid reader, poet, and writer of articles, blog posts, and stories. A enthusiast of love and relationships. A Nigerian from the Niger Delta part of Nigeria who also believes in the right to a fair environment.


Matilda Dikibo

“Guess what!” Cynthia exclaimed. She looked very excited. She shut the door and threw her bag at me. No doubts, Cindy was very happy.

“Cindy baby, have you catched a bigger whale? This one you’re dancing as though you’ve won a lottery.

“Hahahaha, you won’t understand dear. A new ATM has been short-listed oh! He said he is a business man. I don’t care about what he does as far as I get what I want, he gets his ‘delicacy’, no wahala. Anita, your babe gats to survive in this recession o. Meanwhile, I ordered pizza from Tilda’s Kitchen. How was your day?” Cynthia said happily.

Cynthia and I lived in a self-contained apartment where the middle class residents of Calabar reside. We have been good friends since our second year in the University of Calabar.
We were in our final year in school. She was a student of marketing department while I was a mass communication student. Our different backgrounds and beliefs has never come in between our friendship because we respect our differences.

After thirty minutes, the pizza arrived. We ate and talked about our lectures during the day. I told her about how my fiancé have been fluctuating in his finances and I needed her to borrow me ten thousand naira. I didn’t want to bother my single mom.

“Saint Anita, Miss Faithful” she mockingly said as she laughed provokingly. “You better stop this your yeye faithfulness and follow me to Mr Ben’s birthday party next week Friday!” She ranted.

“Cindy, it’s alright. Thanks for your help. I’ll be fine without doing ‘runs’. Goodnight!” I replied.

Dawn came sooner than wished. We were preparing for lectures when she apologized for her rudeness the previous night. I told her it’s nothing. She transferred the money to my account. She has always been a giver, I always appreciate her for her kind gestures.

“But Cindy, don’t you think you can start a little business instead of marketing your body, (I had to be real with her). Embrace the marriage proposal of Tekena, build the future with him. This your waist won’t be a pearl forever, sweetheart. If Tekena turns out to be unserious, you must not make men an ATM or your body, a merchant. You deserve better than this your way”, I gently told her.

“Counselor Anita, thanks for your concern. There’s time to change, I’ll change when the spirit leads me to. About my yesterday’s whale, the nigga and I would be spending the weekend together at his place. I promise to bring lots of goodies. Keep being the great personality that you are, do not trade it for anything, I’ll be back”, she said excitedly as she left the room.

Friday lectures ends by 12pm. Cynthia called me by 5pm and said I should send her my account details. She also said that he gave her a cheque of five hundred thousand naira. She transferred hundred thousand naira to me, saying that we’ll enjoy more when she arrives on Sunday evening.
I was very glad. Although, the weekend was boring without her. It was even more boring because Tunde, my boyfriend travelled for a business trip.

As I was eating my rice and egg sauce on Saturday morning, Boma called me. Boma was our former roommate until her boyfriend rented a self-contained apartment for her. She said I should come to the Akan express way that leads to the Akan Market. Her voice was shaky as though there was an emergency. I didn’t care to remove my hair net nor wear something presentable. I locked my door. My flip flop slippers helped me hasten my steps. I boarded a taxi to the Akan express way leading to the Akan Market. People gathered as though a non-governmental organization was sharing something worth their stay. They were not also looking happy too. I was confused.

I called Boma, she picked the call. I asked where she was and what I’m doing here. Someone yelled my name from behind, I turned around and it was Boma, and she looked so pale. I walked to where she was, and she hugged me tightly, like a mom who just found her lost child. I became more bothered, I kept asking what was wrong till we got very close to where the people gathered. As I paved through the crowd, I saw a dead body with mutilated breasts. I looked keenly, it was my Cindy baby!



About a week ago, the news of a celebrity fraudster emerged in the media constituting nuisance. I think any issue that outshines COVID-19 in the media must be one with large impact, but the case of a fraudster and its media attention is worrisome. A Nigerian and worldwide fraudster who has wined and dined with Nigerian politicians was arrested in Dubai, and we are here littering the media to project our ineptitude in dealing with corruption.

For the fact that Hushppupi has rolled with our so called leaders, his arrest here in Nigeria would have been like one chasing shadow. The agency that will arrest him and the judges that will sit on his case are also ‘Hush-puppies’.

The gang of fraudsters were responsible for Dh1.6 billion (about N169 billion) fraud involving over 1.9 million victims. Items worth N15.845 billion (Dh 150 million) were also seized.13 luxury cars worth N2.640 billion ( Dh 25 million ), 21 laptops, 47 smart phones, 15 memory storage devices, 5 external hard drives and 800,000 emails of potential victims were also recovered from the gang.

The Dubai Police said, Hushpuppi and his gang specialized in hacking corporate emails and then send fictitious messages to the clients of the companies whose email accounts they have hacked in order to redirect financial transactions and bank details to their own accounts.

From the above fraud analysis, the only difference I see between Hushppupi and Nigerian Politicians is their method of operation. While Hushpuppi defrauds cooperate companies, Nigerian politicians are defrauding the poor masses.

For instance, Orji Uzor Kalu was convicted by the Lagos Division of the Federal High Court on Thursday, December 5, 2019 and sentenced to 12 years imprisonment for N7.65 billion fraud. He was convicted for defrauding the government of Abia State where he was a governor for 8 years using his company, Slok Nigeria Limited. Many Nigerians raised encomiums on President Buhari led administration for waging war against corruption without taking sides. Truly, the administration deserves encomiums for jailing a serving senator who is a member of the ruling party.

But on the flip side of it, the Supreme Court, in its verdict delivered on May 8, 2020, held that Idris who convicted Kalu gave the judgment without jurisdiction. This amounted to the judgment being annulled on the ground of technicalities. My God! Judgment was not annulled base on falsehood, but technicalities. So, all the charges against Kalu were real and true but were annulled because the judge had been transfered to appeal court when he made the judgment. Kalu who enjoyed all bonuses and allowances while in correctional center is now back to the senate building enjoying the stench of cool breeze. What other kind of ‘Hushppupi’ is more than this ?

Worse still, Kalu on arrival from prison was welcomed by his co-looters. A delegate headed by the senate president sent to Uzor Kalu to welcome and celebrate his arrival. 12 years jail term has ended in couple of months.

We had similar example in the case of Maina. Maina was accused of fraud, money laundering and operating fictitious account; he was initially declared wanted by EFCC and later got arrested and charged to court on 12 counts including 2.1 billion naira pension fund scam. Before Maina was arrested, I want to belief firmly that he has undergone series of training on how to feign illness in order to display it perfectly in court and when he finally appeared in court, he acted everything correctly and scaled through. What a baddest Hush-puppi!

Till now, I still don’t know the name of bank built in Tinubu’s house that called for a bullion van. During electioneering, a bullion van was spotted in his ambience. The matter has been buried because the purpose of the bullion van was achieved. What a country made of hush-puppies!

How about the Hush-puppies displaying comedy skits in Edo state? Obaseki, a qualified and best candidate in 2016 did not merit gubernatorial seat again but Ize-Iyamu who was painted blue black with derogatory remarks in 2016 is being regarded as the Messiah now. The clash of personal interest has ushered in a division. They are not after good governance, they only want to hushppupi the masses.

We are retarded as a nation because of our system of government. The jabberwocky nature of our dear nation is caused by the nefarious grandeurs occupying the throne of power and authority. Before we can get things right, we must get the hush-puppies defrauding our resources arrested. But, who will channel the arrest of other Hush-puppies in Nigeria ? No one, not even the EFCC boss that was indicted of corruption by Attorney-general of the federation. Drama in the league of Hush-puppies.

Things have fallen apart and Mr. President is not strong enough to hold the center. Some easement we require, unarguably, though we argue against desire.

Kudos to Dubai police, we have more hush-puppies in Nigeria under the guise of politics.

Busy Brain is a guest on the blog. An opinion writer, poet, journalist, researcher and Public Relations Practitioner, who drops his ink, from Borno State, Nigeria. Contact



Photo credit: May Okoh

“Beauty, truly lies in the eyes of the beholder”
The people murmured amongst themselves as they watched the bride walk down the aisle, arm in arm with her father, face glued to the alter and her gown as blinding as the rays of the sun. If not that it was a wedding dress, one would have easily concluded that her husband-to-be was blinded by the brightness of the dress and not by her beauty or love.

Halfway down the aisle, she stopped and smiled, her dark gum made her big white teeth look whiter, one would think she works with one of the toothpaste companies; but I bet the companies were not blinded by her dress, either because she definitely didn’t wear it to the interview. The amazed audience were amused when the husband-to-be broke down in tears as he watched his bride smile. But the people never really understood because beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.

Growing up, we have always followed the saying, “Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder”. But is beauty truly in the eyes of the beholder alone or is beauty just beautiful that everyone can see it and when we can’t, it’s just not beauty but the beholder trying to justify his choice, just like the ‘monkey wey no fine but him mama like am’.

Firstly, who is a beholder. A beholder according to Google, is a person who sees or observes something or someone; while beauty is a combination of qualities, such as shape, colour, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.
So if beauty lies in the eyes of ‘the beholder’ (take note of the beholder and not a beholder). “The” is a definite article, meaning it is just one person observing the beauty from his perspective and his own point of view. So one man’s definition of beauty might be totally and entirely different from the other persons’ .

But that brings us back to the word ‘beauty’. Note that beauty is physical. I will define beauty as ‘pleasing to the eyes’. If It doesn’t satisfy the eyes, then it’s not beautiful. So, if a man sees an object and calls it beautiful, when its obviously not beautiful, does it make it beautiful because he thinks it is. Or should we just mind our business and let beauty be beauty to whomever it wants to. Don’t you think beauty is just beauty and if it’s not appealing, it isn’t beautiful? Or do we categorize both the hidden attributes and the physical aethestics that qualify an entity to be called a beauty in one area.

For instance, let’s say, we see a very ugly dog that is efficient in its security duties. I mean, a very ugly dog that sticks it’s tongue out and pants like nothing else, but when it comes to security, policing and even drug detention, its efficiency is 99.98%; would you as the owner of the dog wanting to describe your dog, use the term ‘beautiful’? (wonders).

Or you have a friend, who is not too appealing to the eyes but has a good heart; do we call the friend beautiful, because of his or her good heart or should we be realistic and call a beauty, a beauty?

I don’t know, but think about it, dont you think we should be realistic, like if someone has a good heart and character just call them nice; but, if the person is beautiful, whether or not he or she has a clean heart, just call them beautiful.

Does beauty lie in the eyes of the beholder, or we are just being blinded by love. Wait! Is it love or fondness? We will talk about that next time.

But right now, what’s your take on the saying ‘Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder’? Because some beauty are way out of the beholder’s eyes, that the whole universe can attest to it, while some beauty are just in the beholder’s eyes, we no dey see am.