Being Black, Being African, Being Human: WatchDog Not Watched Dog

When you hear the word 'Africa' what comes to mind? when you hear the word 'Black', what judgment do you give?

Truth or Dare?

It would be easy to say "Success" if the mind were human and verbalizes nothing of realities. However, we are humans and realities is what makes us.

The continual uproar of corruption and the dead-end promises of a better tomorrow justifies the 'hopelessness' you think for Africa, the inexplicable anger you vent, and the unconcern shrug you make. 

"It is what it is, my sister" comes the rushing blurt from the lips of a tired activist.

A concerned black once said 'Even our unborn ones are sold out already'

Black is making history an effigy of tales. In  June 2020, Kahiga Governor of Nyeri, Kenya did not surprise his residence and people of Kenya when he made a big statement of his picture on a gigantic billboard to speak volume of a "pit latrine project" for a primary school located at the ECDE centre in Konyu, Mathira constituency.

"The billboard must have cost more than the pit latrine," some Kenyans said on Twitter. Another concerned Kenya resident estimated the billboard to be 60000 Kenya currency and the pit latrine 30000 Kenya currency making the 'achievement' of the governor well pronounced.

It was not pleasing to Kenyans as they utterly showed strong disapproval to such act. This led to the removal of the billboard according to NTVNews. One could outrightly say it was a misuse of a public fund or a pure waste of money. 

Also, the fainting of the acting managing director NDDC, Prof Kemebradikumo Daniel Pondei shook Nigeria to her bones. It could have been heartache, or a sudden blurriness, or the heat(maybe) however, he fainted during a probing on the venue of illegal spending and mismanagement of fund. What could have happened?

The probing got suspended, the minister of Nigeria Delta affairs, Senator Godswill Akpabio stayed behind for the probe, 48hours was given to name the lawmakers who got NDDC contracts, Saga dies down, well, not until July 23rd( mandate: July 21) of the completed names compilations.

We could continue with Hushpuppi, or we could talk about Magu. Still, the act of Ikenna Nweke a doctorate student at the University of Tsukuba, Japan advocates hope not only to Nigerians but black as a whole.

Mr. Ikenne Nweke received a commendation letter by the president of Nigeria Muhammadu Buhari the 3rd of July 2020 due to his act of integrity he portrayed in Japan by returning a missing wallet with a huge sum and credit cards to the police in Japan, going as far also to turn down offers by the authorities.

What a shock? Unbelievable? Could that be possible? Are you sure he is hustling?

'Still, the act of such honesty is True'. 

The openness of Caroline Waiguru Deputy to the governor of Nyeri Kenya also tells displeasure to his buoyant landing of his billboard

"I want to dissociate myself from this persistent cheap publicity stunt, that I consider extremely unfortunate and ill-advised…" She said during an audience granted to NTVNews.

The general belief when 'black' is mentioned is 'survival'. The life of blacks too portray the fact that you have to ' survive anyhow' and by any means available.

We probably have a wrong focus or it is the case where the 'treasures' we have speaks where the heart is. Or maybe we are all getting it wrong.

It can not be changed? Someone just said

Yet, it is good to draw near to God: putting your trust in the Lord

Maybe it isn't about black, or human, maybe it is about where our focus is…'

Being a faithful wannabe authoritarian? Or a survivor in the full picture? Or better still a contender to world leaders?

What do we say to these? History is still making.

There is no hope. However, in spite of the hopeless, frustrated, and disheartening situation, you still get up at the dawn of every morning. Why is that? "Survival".

 

Nine years and counting, we have heard the loud cry of 'Keeping It Real' by the renowned journalist; Adeola Fayehun who is speaking boldly on the ill-treatment made by African leaders. Fisayo Soyombo is another journalist who has taken upon himself to bring out his 'little hope' for a better Nigeria; then and now.

 

Mock news with Pararan is another platform, speaking possibilities for justice. For twenty-three years and counting, Dr. Stella Nyanzi still goes at length in making a change in Uganda despite the unruly reign of the President who has ruled for thirty-four years and counting with no visual achievement.

She speaks through activist walks and talks, through books and actions. She has been jailed eight times for speaking her 'little faith' for a better tomorrow.

 

I could talk about Ama Ata Aidoo, Wole Soyinka, Late Chinua Achebe, Late Wangari Maathai but to mention a few. 

The eye-opener of what state we can be in as a country or continent as the case may be; the  fact that you are not alone in the watch;

the thoughts provoking questions to be answered; the raising of intellectual generations; the foundation already laid. 

These are achievements we cannot overlook.

Are they there yet? Of course not! Was there a change? Yes. They all had that 'little faith' to watch, act, and speak. They took up their cross of little faith believing consistently that it would add up someday.

Do you think their passion would pay off?

Then I would ask if your waking up each day would pay off? 

 

Ubani Irene, an International Journalist is another young mind for a hope.

 

The act for anti-corrupt practice was not just for the old. It is happening and would not end with now. An environment is created, a possibility is built and no matter how little the faith may seem, the watchmen (as I would call them), that sees beyond this world will readily leap on it. 

A popular saying: "A drop of water makes a mighty Ocean". This makes me affirmatively say; ' the little faith can create a bigger faith for a better world, how much more the contribution of the consistent and diligent true believer'?

 

We have not just watched, we are watching. We are not just dreaming, we are making. Although we are little, a man was all the creator needed; although bruised, we aspire for difference. Africa indeed is a 'mess', however, in all truth, it can be better. I believe.

Opinion: Oil- The Niger Delta Tale

It was a cold night. Mama and Papa had returned late from work that day for they had to finish up the leftover works of the previous week. They had come in tired and needed a shower, dinner and rest. I however went to do the cooking.
It was almost fifteen minutes gone. Dad and mum were done with the shower and were seated at the dining. Then I saw a thing...

The two hands of the car's wiper sway in the likes of a mass choir waving halleluyah on the windscreen which was punctuated with rain drops and had the tires rolling as a remote controlled toy. The vehicle made almost no noise and it carried no vehicle number. It was a new vehicle, a peugeot model.
It was just another few metres when he pulled the brakes. He was at his destination. I wondered what this son of man needed at this time- the cold, rain and time of night considered. He had possibly come on a visit. He hopped out of the vehicle with his movement ordered to make sure his traces were covered. "Was the car stolen?, What does he want?", I queried in thought.

I saw him. The young man in the black hoodie. He moved towards the high building opposite the street with my eyes following his silhouette. Thereafter, I saw nothing... No traces.

I turned back and left for the dining room with the food plates in my hand when I heard a bang. It portrayed someone trying to break a safe. Silence followed and I kept calm. For the next few minutes,

I heard nothing and so resumed my move towards the dining. I could hear papa and mama giggle
over coffee, my brothers seated patiently in wait for me.

That evening, I served dinner. I had a feeling that it was to be "The Last Supper", but my feelings could not be so true as I thought. "Did dad and mum not hear a thing?", I wondered...

I served silently and was done in no time. I moved on to sit when the bang came again. This time, louder than before. I looked at Dad, mum and my brothers and I saw indifference in them. They continued their chat as though nothing sounded...

Just then, the door went off, revealing him- the guy in a black hoodie who had concealed almost everything. His arsenal had only one hatchet. He marched in and filled an empty seat beside me. Then I saw trouble...

I had watched the start of the event unfold in one quick progression- the return from work, myself in the kitchen, the hoodie guy scene and my family having dinner. He had no reason whatsoever to come in that way. If he truly was the man I saw earlier, then our home was probably a mistake. I felt like getting on my feet but it was cold. I became frightened.

"I've got your names on my list, paid in full," he said, revealing the hatchet he had concealed under his jacket. He stood up and walked the table round. I looked at my father. He looked so helpless. My mother helped no issue, she was weeping already. He lined the family up and starting from father, he bludgeoned and hacked them- father, mum and my innocent brothers.
It was soon my turn. He stared hard into my face for long just before he turned around and left leaving me with the remains of my lovely little family of five.
I never forgot his face.

Overtime, I grew wondering what psychopath he was, why he murdered them and who paid in full. I wondered why my peaceful family of a father who worked with the Government Oil Regulation Agency, my mother who was a teacher in Agbabi Riverine area and my two promising siblings were murdered in cold blood. It was the beginning of the end.

I remember the stories of woe I read in primary school, years before the murder of my family and I conclude that we never feel the tragedy of loss by reading it. A tragic book is interesting when imagery is used to analyse suffering but it's awful when suffering is experienced in reality. No matter how well, the author can not fit the shoes of description if he has not experienced same.

  The hot slap landed on my cheeks as though I were another Jesus, taking the sins of the world. Caressing those cheeks turned another mistake as the full series of spontaneous slaps followed. Mami Kene as she was called is wife to my uncle who adopted me weeks after the cruelsome incident I suffered. However, she had not for once look with pity and count me as human.

Earlier this day, she had asked me to mop the floor which I had earlier done. I looked at the surface and saw barely no stain on it and wondered the need to do the mop again. It was then she hit me hard on the face. I could trace the map of Africa, intimately iinscribed by her palm on my face.

That was the least of punishments I received in that home. The only thing I however put in mind is the fact that one day, I would uncover the mystery of the person who paid in full, the price for the murder of my family. It was in this home that I finished my senior secondary school when my battles started in full...

The story in this article has replaced real names of persons and places. Any resemblance is not on purpose, should be taken lightly and the message should remain undistorted.

Making Black Lives Truly Matter

           

We are blacks but our skins are not weapons
We do not deserve to be killed 

And we deserve the freedom of expression. 

Our rights should not be violated because we are black

We deserve the freedom to speak up

When our rights are violated.


The discrimination against black has been existing for years, and this has led to crises and chaos in many nations. The black skin has been bleached with several injustices owing to the fact that it is simply black. Racism is not meant to be the order of the day especially in this century. Our skin is black but our brain is not. We are human and we deserve justice like every other human.

Being black is not meant to be a crime because that's our race and we are meant to be able to stand in public and defend it but due to racism, black people are scared to go out and be proud of being black. We do not deserve to be bullied or be shy of being black.

We are black!

We were born black 

And our lives are important. 

That's our race, our identity.

The Law of Value - For or Against The Naira?

When you meet some handicapped begging, you would be quick to contain the realities of his physical state and give him whatever your good mind can. On the other hand, when you see a full grown, body abled man, begging for money, what happens? 

 

I dipped my hands into my wallet and got the worst, tattered Naira notes and gave it out to them. You know what? They accepted it with great ecstascy. Right there, they taught me value!

 

Water is free (except you choose to buy packed water) and can be gotten almost everywhere but Coca Cola is expensive. At the same time, Air is free but Air Conditioner is expensive. A heart is free but a kidney transplant is costly, and so I have noticed that the most precious things in life are either free or cheap. The Salvation of Jesus is free but to get a herbalist to work for you isn't free. Tim Berners-Lee invented the world wide web (www) and made it free for everyone but Bill Gate's windows softwares aren't free. Android OS is free for all but Apple OS isn't. Newspapers aren't free but reading news online is free. These are just few...
The Law of Value says that "If you want to create an awesome value born out of a great vision, CONSIDER the PRICE, make it cheap so that even a fool can afford it and gain wisdom."

Anything that is much more smaller has value; whatsoever we feel has no value, has much more value than we can ever imagine

Rape: Of the Victim and the Accused

 

Rape victims and survivors suffer great trauma what with all the commotion raised by internet users who took to various social media platforms to pour out their grievances after the release of Busola Dakolo's interview. A lot of people had a lot of things to say about the issues raised in the video and there were back and forth arguments about who to believe and who was lying. My thoughts? Well read on.

It takes a lot of strength, especially mental, for a person to come out and say he or she was raped and when such persons do come out let us, mere outsiders, not be too quick to judge and cast blames. Rape is a very painful experience, one that cannot be quickly forgotten, if at all it is gotten over. It does a lot to a person's self-esteem that most victims turn out to be desperate people who search for self-validation everywhere even at places where it is obvious that it cannot be found. I implore us all to show more attention and compassion to people that will come to us to report any sort of sexual violations they suffer.

There is a lot of pretense in the society today. A lot of people only get involved in conflicts when a well-known persona is a party but when the victim is an unknown person it becomes no one's business. Taking reference in Busola's case, her story became this popular only because she is a public figure. We should do our part and not turn deaf ears when the story is that of Nkechi, an helpless sixteen year old student that live in a local town. Let us please stop with the hypocrisy.

The shame culture that is practiced by Nigerians is a sad one indeed. It makes it so that victims of rape are ashamed and afraid to come out and tell their stories. They get to deal with the trauma that comes with the experience and also have to face the stigmatization that coming out will attract with it. Nobody ever wishes to be raped and it is entirely unfair to even suggest that the victim is to be blamed; the victim is never the cause. It is, therefore, our collective responsibility to create a society that respects rape victims as the survivors they truly are and to hold them at a high pedestal that is the complete opposite of the ridicule they would otherwise be put through.

Now there are a lot of rape apologists out there justifying rape and giving stupid reasons and excuses such as, 'It's not rape when she was dressed provocatively', 'His no usually means yes', 'They deserved it'. Let me set this straight, sex without consent is rape. Sex with another person without the person's permission is rape and there is no such thing as silent approval. If you want to save yourself from being labelled as a rapist do not have sex with someone that is showing any sign of reluctance but instead go on to some other person that shares mutual interest with you. Trust me, there are many people out there that will meet your taste.

Another thing to discuss is rapists themselves. Do not be the unfortunate being that will forcefully take what is not freely given to you. Always consciously and deliberately try not to be in a situation where you'd have to sexually assault somebody, it is an advice I will always give to people that know they are weak in that respect. If you're someone that struggles with issues that make you do things you would rather not do then save someone the heartache and seek help, professional or not.

Furthermore, it will be a great crime to falsely accuse someone of rape when there was a consent before the action. A lot of people have chosen this period to bounce their pain on their preys. The false accusation is as costly as the rape offence itself. Because, this will not only tarnish the integrity and image of such person that has been wrongly accused, as the label will remain as a skin on such person, if not forever, but always.
 

As I conclude, my heart goes out to every person out there who has had to experience such hateful, depressing and painful ordeal, what happened is not your fault, you're stronger than you think and you're worthy of more. Love.