IYA ALAGBADO (…the corn seller)

Buy Corn, Buy Corn, Sweet Corn, Buy Corn…I was passing by her shop when I heard her voice. It was very hot in the afternoon; she was frying fish at one side of her shop and cooking corn at the other side. If you’re like me, you’ll wonder what relationship exists between fried fish and cooked corn.

Work Hard. Live Hard. Love Hard (…the past 10.5 months of my life)

Really, words fail to express the exact way I feel right now. This is that moment when you look back and safely conclude the essence of ‘Work’ is to ‘Live’ and the essence of living is to ‘Love’.

ON BOKO HARAM ACTIVITES…

*Opinions expressed in this post are personal and the stories represent the fictitious imaginations of the writer

Amina had to go back to school for her exams. She was a SSS3 science student, like I was some 5 years ago. She went back to write a core science subject, Physics. There was so much insecurity where her school was located but since they had not written Physics, they were called back to write it by the local officials. She looked forward to writing it too, in preparation of Ahmadu Bello University’s October admission exercise. Aisha, another science student was back in the dormitory on Tuesday morning in preparation for her Physics WASSCE, she convinced her skeptical parents to allow her to write it. Sofia, was in her room all through Tuesday morning and afternoon, she had very serious menstrual pains and she just had to stay still on her bed. I hear her telling her mother on the phone not to worry about her health, she was determined to write the exam despite the sharp uterine pain. Mr Kangi, the guard had left his wife at home with Abubakar, his 1-month baby and Kaffy, his 3yr old daughter-he had worked in the school as the guard for 5 years and he collected N15, 000 per month, though very small, it was enough to take care of his family’s hospital bills in a government hospital and put food on their table.

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They were all at one location, Government Girls Secondary School, Chibok, Bornu State when suddenly, a loud gunshot was heard, Mr Kangi, the guard jumped on his feet and went out to see what was happening. A masked guy placed a bullet right through his chest, he fell and died immediately. Well, we know the remaining story, about 240 girls were kidnapped from the school dorm by a terrorist group and rumor has it that some of them have been taken to Cameroon and others Chad, some say a number of the girls have been married while others think they’re hidden in a forest. Just when I was pouring out my anger about the present Nigerian State on my poor roommate who had no answers to my “why” questions, I heard of the Nyanya bombing that killed about 20 people....yes, the same Nyanya station that was bombed and took 80 lives some 3 weeks ago.

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My questions: What is wrong with Nigeria?... Or rather, What is not wrong with Nigeria? Where are the girls? Is it a crime to be Nigerian?

These are girls, like me…. these are young women who, despite the insecurity  and shootings in Bornu decided to still write their exams, these are children of some parents… and yes, they are sisters too. Why is this happening? Why are we still looking for them 2 weeks after? All I can hear is that the acts are condemned by Senator whatever and President GEJ and that investigation is going on…before nko? So is condemnation  of  the act what we want to eat? Bring back our girls jare! Excuse me, can’t we for once just get results in this country.  Almost all the sectors of this country are very highly densely flawed. Please what does the IG of police have to say? At least, he’s the chief security officer of his nation, I suppose.  The Nigerian State has thrown many into wailings and cries….why exactly is Nigeria not working? Why? Ki lo de?

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Well, I’ll open the almost-closed arms of optimism and hope for a better Nigeria. Somewhere in my mind, I see a better Nigeria, I see a Nigeria where the nations of the world flock into, I see the green passport becoming the most-desirable passport in the whole world, I see results-driven people in Leadership, I see men and women stand up and take their place, I see small businesses sprout and bloom, I see improved health care, I see transparency in our political system, I see our economy bloom like the morning glory. I see it, I see it

A man I respect a lot once told me that for things to work, it takes God and determined conscious efforts. I think God is a constant, He will do his part, but it is left for us to take our places and do our part. I think with a made-up mind, with election of capable people into government (not by how good their name sounds), with reduced complaining and lamenting and with DETERMINED CONSCIOUS EFFORTS by EVERY NIGERIAN, we will get to the promised land.

We owe our children, the next generation, a Nigeria that works...Honestly, we do.

May God help us all.

HIV TEST: IF I TEST POSITIVE (Ending Part)

(I should start by apologizing that this part is coming late.  I have been occupied with a lot of things, work, deadlines, etc. etc and I have been doing more of talking than writing… I’m sorry I kept you waiting this long. You can check below to read the first part of this story. Apologies accepted, right? Thank you. Plenty love!)

Well, I knew I was going to face my fear.

I stood up and a surge of determination rose up in me. It was time to test for HIV. I walked up to the local testing centre (NACA) at Obafemi Awolowo University, my heart skipping beats at regular intervals.

I entered the building and was directed to a young man who was going to do HIV Counseling and Testing (HCT) for me; I smiled widely at him, though behind the smile, I was thinking “God, it won’t be funny if I have HIV oh”.

HIV TEST: IF I TEST POSITIVE…

Thank God it was a dream. I wiped sweat off my forehead; my heartbeat had increased to twice its normal rate; I was very afraid. I had dreamt that my neighbor tested for HIV and she was positive. I saw myself consoling her and asking her to go to another testing center to confirm the result. I was really sweating when I woke up, my pillow was soaked. Well, I know the dream came as a result of my subconscious activities. I had meditated and thought and pondered on HIV till I dreamt of it. Mind you, that was the second dream I had about HIV.

Since my eyes were open, it was time for my morning devotion. I muttered words to God in my morning prayer, but the fear of the dream and the fear of HIV was still there. I decided to jump off my bed to talk loudly and audibly to God, such that my cries will not only drive the fear but beg for some grace from God. I walked to and fro, and shouted at fear, praying and telling God I didn’t want to test for HIV out of fear, but out of the understanding that I should know what my status is.

Before that judgmental part of you comes out, unprotected sex is not the only way to contract HIV, other ways could include sharing of sharp needles (which a lot of ladies do at the hair salons),  among others. My mind did well to remind me of times when my hair stylist pricked my scalp with needles (though they were majorly mine) and times when I had minor cuts from cooking knives that were not mine. My risk factors were few, but trust me, they could have been more than this  (I know what I speakest :)).

After the high-toned, fear-binding, tongue-strolling prayer, I waited to hear God; I was thinking He’ll tell me to forget about HIV jare and face other spiritual and academic things, but instead the thought came to me: ‘Simi, why don’t you go for your HIV test?’. Immediately, I remembered the saying that: ‘One way to combat fear is by doing that exact thing you are afraid of’.

*Whew*- The characteristic big sigh that precedes every major decision.

Was I ready to face this fear?

(Part 2 in a bit! *winks*)

FOOTPRINTS- Margaret Fishback Powers

There are times when things go hard; times when things get tough; times when giving up looks like the best option. I came across this poem at a 'tough time' and it was just what I needed at that time. I hope you draw some strength from it.

One night I dreamed a dream.

I was walking along the beach with my Lord.

Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.

For each scene, I notice two sets of footprints in the sand,

One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

When the last scene of my life shot before me

I looked back at the footprints in the sand

And to my surprise,

I noticed that many times along the path of my life

There was only one set of footprints.

I realized that this was at the lowest and saddest times of my life.

This always bothered me

And I questioned the Lord

about my dilemma

‘Lord, you told me when I decided to follow You,

You would walk and talk with me all the way.

But I’m aware that during the most troublesome

Times of my life there is only one set of footprints.

I just don’t understand why, when I needed you most, You leave me.’

He whispered, ‘My precious child,

I love you and will never leave you

Never, ever, during your trials and testings.

When you saw only one set of footprints

It was then that I carried you.’

God is always there -in the good times, the bad times and the ugly times. He doesn’t leave when things get tough, He stays and carries us right in His arms. Oh! What a caring Father!

ABORTION: IS IT REALLY MURDER?

I was at home with mum and my brothers one cool evening when we decided to check through the new materials and books that had arrived the previous day from the United Kingdom.