PANDORA'S PANACEA

                                           

We live in a troubled world. Funnily enough the history of humanity’s distress is similar from different perspectives. The Greeks say that the origin stems from Pandora, a lady created by the gods who was given a box that was never to be opened. She willfully disobeyed out of curiosity and unleashed “wahala” on the world. From the book of genesis it was that man was formed by God and placed in Eden. He was given the permission to generally reign but was prohibited from eating a particular fruit. Man refused to comply and here we are.

I am appalled when I think of the wickedness on our planet (I seem to do a lot of that these days). The racial and religious bigotry, the selfishness, the greed, the kidnappings, terrorism, murder, ritual killings, gang wars, fraud, rape, armed robberies and my heart breaks. Why do we hate so much?

The question is, how do we put a stop to all the bloodletting? This is a query that no one seems to have the answers to since it has confounded even the wisest of men from the inception of time.

It was said that after Pandora released her problems and was weeping uncontrollably, a small voice was heard in the box which was supposed to be the solution to the earth’s distress. That voice was hope. 

What is the hope of our world? What is the panacea to the difficulties released by Pandora? It is LOVE!!! The love of God is what man desperately needs. The love that would make us treat one another like ourselves. 

A lot of people rail at God for the problems in the world. Some are atheists because they believe there can be no God if there is so much evil in the world but man is man’s own nemesis. God has given and lavished his love on earth, so is it any fault of his if earthlings refuse to walk in this love? Case in point, is it God that made those guys kill Cynthia Osokogu for no just cause? It is terrible! 

Jesus gave an example of a Samaritan who saved the life of a Jew. Jews hate Samaritans and vice versa with a passion. They could not stand one another’s guts but one day a Hebrew guy’s life was slipping away after being attacked by armed robbers until a Samaritan came along after the brother had been abandoned by his own kinsmen. The Samaritan took care of his wounds, carried him to a hospital and promised he was going to foot the bills of the injured man. Why would make an enemy treat another like a friend? Love bridged the rabid rapids of xenophobia and hate! LOVE MADE ALL THE DIFFERENCE! LOVE MAKES US SEE DIFFERENTLY! 

Without love we are sunk and the globe will sink deeper and deeper into morass of darkness until there is nothing left! 
That is why Jesus narrated this agape tale, so that we can see the benefits of Godly affection and begin to live by its creed.

LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOUR AS YOURSELF!!!

A GAME OF THRONES

                                                    

Framer my favourite cousin, who is a serial movie freak introduced me to “A Game of Thrones” and from the word go, its storyline reeled me in like I was a hapless cod. That is how it usually works for me, for a serial to thrill me it has to appeal to me right from the very start, just run off with me. I think that is why “Rome” is still my best till date. No matter the ratings, if it doesn’t grab me from the beginning, it would most likely never move me. I also said in an earlier post that I know a movie or a book has sunk its fangs into my veins when I see, smell, taste and dream it. It saturates me like a cloud of garlic (it’s just that in this case, the saturation is redolent of something more fragrant than blossoms from the Garden of Eden). Such experiences are epiphanic and make me proselytize with the vigour of an early apostle. It was during such proselytization that my brother mentioned that the film was actually adapted from a book. That triggered a faint awareness which made me search my library to discover that I have two out of the seven series of “A Song of Ice and Fire” from which the stories came. Following this I stopped watching and started reading. I usually prefer reading because most movies usually come short of great books with the “Godfather”, Lord of the Rings” and “Shawshank Redemption” being a few of the exceptions.

The book was exceptional and contrary to my usual pattern, I immediately picked up the second one in the series, “A Clash of Kings”. I get bored easily so I try not to read tomes by the same author back to back but “A Game of Thrones” broke my habit, I just couldn’t stop at the first book. As I traverse the pages, I find myself in an enchanting magical world. With a dollop of mysticism, a sprinkle of the mythical, a dash of the historical, a pinch of the medieval, a spoonful of heroism, a portion of wizardry, a seasoning of chivalry, a mix of warfare and everything peppered with fantasy, George R.R Martin cooked up a literary sumptuous fare. His books are finger licking sweet. It is actually a wonder I have not gotten to the point of chomping on the pages. It is in the league of the “Lords of the Ring”. It’s just that I think the J.R.R Tolkien’s is more poetic with a wilder and crazier imagination but like the journey of the hobbits somewhat harder going. George’s is simpler especially if you can remember all those names and houses. There must be something about the letters R.R that equates to literary genius. I have been wondering whether I should add them to my initials. His descriptive powers enthroned him amongst the kings of imagery like Wilbur Smith, Dean Koontz and J.R.R.Tolkien and if we had to add a queen to this pantheon that would be Chimamanda Adichie of course. All in all the collection of books and movies of “Song of Ice and Fire” that I have seen so far are divine (even the motion picture is as good as the book).  The musical score of the movie is heavenly; I could listen to it all day. Ramin Djawadi the composer was at his beautiful best.

In the past few weeks, I have been amazed at the absolutely mindboggling creativity of Mr. George and have been thinking that that is how human beings are supposed to be and function. The taste of divinity in his books is actually scriptural. Kudos to GRRM, a Caesar of literature, I salute thee “Ser”.

First thing we know about God before any other is that he is creative. Genesis 1:1 tells us that “in the beginning, God created……”  Before we get to know anything about Gods might, His love, His power, His wisdom, His grace, name it, the first thing that is brought to our attention is His creativity. Since we are made in His likeness, that means we have the innate ability to be creative. If a monkey’s kid cannot swing or climb, it’s an aberration. If we cannot create, it’s an anomaly. When we create, we exhibit the divine; we assume the celestial and manifest the heavenly. When we write something on an empty page, form art on blank easels, build on bare land, design with formless materials, cook gourmet meals out from raw ingredients, bring what has never been to be, we become like God our father who created a beautiful world out of nothing. We bring the eternal to bear on the ephemeral; we bring divinity to impact on the earthly. We conjure light out of darkness. Of course this is when we create something good that benefits mankind. Creativity makes the creator rule, IT GIVES DOMINION. Little wonder Times Magazine named George R.R Martin one of the most influential people of 2011. It also does not come as a surprise that countries where inventiveness is the order of the day are perpetually in the limelight and rule over those who do have such culture. One of the things that enabled the Romans to conquer the world was the building of roads and incredibly some of those roads are still standing today after hundreds of years. In Nigeria, it’s a miracle if our roads last for a couple of months. For Nigeria as a country to progress, we need to pay more attention to creation of things.

In my last post, “http://ekpoeze.blogspot.com/2012/08/apples-of-seduction.html”, I mentioned how Esau traded his birthright for Jacob’s food. Esau traded and Jacob created and at the end, he who traded was left holding the short end of the stick. That sounds familiar, does it not? It is exactly the way our ancestors sold the future of a continent for mere trinkets that were created by foreigners. Same way we trade our time to work for organizations created by others, at the expense of all that we hold dear sometimes. Creators own the world; the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof. God could lay claim to the cosmos because He created it. Let us work towards the creation of good homes, schools, businesses, industries, healthcare facilities and we will end up with a better country. Creativity is one of the chief ways in which to make Gods mandate for man a reality.  It was the way the renaissance brought Europe out of the dark ages. I am sorry to burst someone’s bubble but the words below are not only for procreation of babies…

BE FRUITFUL, MULTIPLY, REPLENISH THE EARTH, SUBDUE IT, HAVE DOMINION……

APPLES OF SEDUCTION

It was a balmy evening, with a mild wind lending coolness to the dying day as the sun drowsily slid under the blanket of the clouds. I was on the royal balcony, sipping grape juice when my pulse raced off like Usain Bolt! I saw her! My castle overlooks most houses and it was easy to see through the open window into her bathroom. She was a glorious sight. Sculpted out of a block of ebony, her skin glistened like black pearl reflecting shards of moonlight. With more curves than a French curve, hour glasses seem shapeless beside her form. The drops of water from the shower accentuated her more than oil shows off the muscular ridges of a body builder. As the tears from the faucet soaked her, the stream flowing down her body made it seem she took her bath in a cascade of jewels. Excitement coursed through me with the intensity of Jupiter’s bolts.  Suffice it to say I was more firmly hooked than a shark on a harpoon. Despite the fact that a faint distant voice of disquiet niggled in my soul that she was a faithful subject's wife, I knew I had to have her or else life would never be the same…

The animals ran me ragged this time. It was quite a tedious hunt. I came back almost empty handed with hunger ravaging my innards like a lupine huntsman. As my weary steps inched towards my tent, it hit me with the force of a stampeding herd! My nostrils were overwhelmed by an aroma that could only have come from the kitchens of heaven. The angel manning the pot turned out to be my brother. I knew he could cook but this was on another level and the look of that red pan stayed with me forever. The palm oil was fresh and fragrant of pepper; thick with vegetables, lamb chops swam in its blood. All in all, it was an enticing sight. Surprisingly enough, he asked for my birthright in exchange for some of his food. Birthright? The fellow is a joker! Who cares about a birthright when my saliva drools more than a canine’s. A birthright would not help me in the grave, if I did not get some of this pottage; I was going to die…

The Babylonian robe dyed in murexes’ juices was silk smooth and irresistibly soft, the silver’s glare was overwhelming and the gold’s glint enchanted my soul. Though it was written that I should just do my work and leave without touching any of the spoils, I knew that I, Achan the son of Carmi would never have a good night rest again unless I take these treasures into my custody. If I obey the law without pilfering them, they would haunt my dreams forever……

The whole paradise belonged to me. The entirety of the orchard was mine. Then I heard the hissing suggestion and took a long look at the apple. The sibilant proposal made me wonder how I never beheld it before. It was beautiful beyond anything I had ever seen and suddenly looked sweeter than any other around me. How can I live another day of my life without having a taste of this, it would be the torture of a lifetime. Even Tantalus would agree mine is a worse torment. I must have it…..

I stole the honey that was not mine and licked it sweetness…

I exchanged food for my birthright…

I took things that were not mine and hid them…

I took a bite of that luscious flesh…..

Life sometimes is like being caged in a cookie shop with an instruction not to touch while hunger sets your tummy on fire.  The streets of living are lined with endless malls filled with the sounds, sights and smells of all sorts of tantalizing temptations that can make even the stoutest heart fall.  The list of unwanted wants keeps up it's endless dazzling display before us. Billboards of graphic enticement continually attack our senses, wily guerrillas of destruction. But everything boils down to whether we will fall or not…

I fell and left murder in the wake of my lust. I killed a faithful friend, watched my son die, and was dethroned by my favourite son who raped my wives before the watching eyes of all and sundry…

I lost my right to being the firstborn and could not get it back. I wept until my heart broke, cried until my lachrymal glands were scorched and yet I wept. I am still weeping….

Dying by stoning is quite excruciating but within my agony, was the anguish of seeing the same happening to my wife and little children…

My eyes opened to naked ignominy, shame dogged my steps, and my opprobrium was to last for all eternity. I lost glorious divinity for loathsome humanity…

TRUTH IS THAT IT IS NEVER WORTH IT! I am sure the above four even though they lived in different periods would concur. But the pull is strong so how do we survive?

I was beside myself with hunger after not eating for forty days yet I did not succumb to the seduction of fleshly bread. I was the King of the world yet I did not give in to pride. The cosmos glitz and glitter was pretty attractive but I refused to take the easy route out by bowing to the allurement. How did I do it? I kept His word his word in my heart. His book was not far from my mouth. I rattled the written word like a Gatling gun in full steam…

Are you drowning in the pool of a dangerous appeal, and then it’s high time to call out to Him. Do you feel you cannot live except you scratch the itch of a particular enchantment? Then you need to hear His voice telling you that YOU ARE NOT MISSING ANYTHING.

It is His voice that tells us not to be a profane person like Esau who for a morsel of meat sold his birthright. The loss of a birthright causes everlasting regret.

Our birthright could be our destinies, career, families, children, marriage, finances, relationships, name it. Thing about a lost birthright is that it might never be gotten back. God help us all!

We all need to borrow a leaf from the book of the Psalmist, which says….

YOUR WORD HAVE I HIDDEN IN MY HEART THAT I MIGHT NOT SIN AGAINST YOU....

AN ISSUE OF...................................

                                                                          

With the last ounce of my will, I pressed inexorably through the swelling mass, swam through the surf of resistance until I broke through the swirling currents and touched the silky smooth, woolly fuse. Suddenly, BAM……..EXPLOSION!!!.......

When I look into the mirror, I see the macabre grin of the skull in its most charming state; reaching it reaches out to me a pale ghoul with its repulsive beam. My face used to be flushed with cheeks that were ruddy rose petals, but now they are as ashen as rain doused embers of coal. I was a robust palm oil fruit which has become a shrivelled charred kernel. The music I hear these days is the swish of the grim reapers sickle, the clattering hooves of death’s black steed crashing down the cobblestones of my soul. I sleep perpetually in the embrace of cold’s chilly fingers, the only warmth I feel on my pallet being the pillow of my tears.  The echoes of silence fill my home, no children running about, no man to call my husband (He walked). I haven’t been touched in many years, only loneliness sought, courted and is now betrothed to me. I used to walk about in a cloud of Chanel NO 5 but now, the odoriferous smog that dogs my every step is part of what has made me a hermit in the temple of my solitude. Church doors are barred to me, the law says I am too tainted to worship.  I have needle bites all over my arms yet I am no junkie, but veno-punctures required for a battery of tests have drained me like vampires. Angels in all their forms have attended to me, young, old, black, white, bespectacled, friendly, ornery, name it but none has been able to heal. Their white coats, a mockery of their shortcoming as their fingers probe and their speculums explore.  I am continually subjected to the impassive glare and robotic examination of radio-diagnostic inspectors.  My affliction has made them richer and left me poorer. All my saving and investments are gone.  Recently my breath comes in short gasps and rattles in my throat with every step. With the most minimal exertion, weakness soaks every fibre of my being, pampers me in its sauna and floods me with sweat. The latest report is that my heart is failing. Fat and back, the ugly worms of suicidal tendencies worm through the rotted wood of my consciousness, truth is, the burden of living has become too much to bear. I am on a trajectory of fatality, a derailed train on a mountain pass heading for an inevitable end. My life is haemorrhaging away, I have a primary issue amongst all these, a dozen years issue of blood……….

Then I heard about Him and there was a twist in my tale. My tragic saga turned into one of hope. He sowed in my heart the seedling of a fairytale…

Our Narrator embodies all our travails and agonies. Life is a hive of issues and they come out stinging like a furious swarm of bees and their anaphylactic shock kills.  The memories of terrible nature can also be quite long lasting. We are in a lot of ways similar to this woman, in the sense that issues can be spiritual, physical, financial, emotional, psychological, marital, relational and every other …..al. Hers though primarily physical affected every other area of her live. Issues dog our steps with rapid intensity until we run out of breath.  They make one bleed and drain life. Legion in their multiplicity….bills with deadlines, (tuition fees, hospital bills, premiums, rent, mortgage, wedding, etc) lack of jobs, unfeeling creditors, unfaithful partners, divorce, single and lonely, married and lonely, married without issues, battering spouses, mean bosses, loss of loved ones, low self esteem, racial and other kinds of discrimination, chronic debilitating illnesses, addictive habits, PHCN blackouts, terrorists, air crashes, abominable traffic, dismal leadership,  separation from God…. issues are a burgeoning list of hopelessness……

I heard about the Galilean on the airwaves on my small transistor radio, the only gadget I now own. He is a miracle worker everyone seems to say and it sparked something within me.

·          I started thinking differently; I stopped seeing death and started seeing life.  My thoughts went from sickness to health. MY PERSPECTIVE CHANGED!

·         My thoughts translated into my words, I kept saying if I could touch Him, I would be healed. MY WORDS GAVE ME LIFE AND IMPACTED MY DESTINY!

·         My words translated into action. I STEPPED OUT, went for broke, put everything on the line. I wasn’t going to sit at home and give up! I was going to get healed or die trying!

·         With the milling throng, it would be a tall order to reach Him but if I can navigate my way around to just touch the helm of his garment, I would be cool. I SAW POSSIBILITIES WITHIN MY CHALLENGES!

·         The hem of a garment is almost nonexistent relative to the whole clothing, it was a connection point. Irrespective of how diminutive, CONNECTION POINTS ARE VITAL! I found mine, what is the one you need for your issue? Remember the mustard seed.

·         Fighting through that unruly crowd was extremely exhausting but I JUST COULD NEVER GIVE UP!!!!!

·         Most times, we wait for God to touch us, but I decided to touch Him! I THOUGHT OUT OF THE BOX!!! You can touch him too with your prayer, worship, praise, gift, time, faith…..what are you waiting for?

·         Unclean humanity that I was I handled spotless divinity which I wasn’t supposed to do. The law strongly says so, but to live, I BROKE THE NORM!

·         MY FAITH WAS STRONGER THAN THE IMPEDING OBSTACLES, both physical and otherwise.

·         Loads of folks surrounding the Man, shoving and pushing, BUT I SINGLED OUT MYSELF FOR DISTINCTION! That’s the only thing that would make my own touch unique, what would differentiate me.

·         I slowly reached out, painfully stretched until MY BEING WAS A LIVING BALL OF CONCENTRATION.  All that mattered at that moment was the hem of his garment; it meant more to me than the Golden Fleece to Jason and his Argonauts.

I finally touched it, a contact so faint it seemed it did not happen but……SUDDENLY! EXPLOSION…BAM…I was zapped by a power beyond my comprehension, Zoe; God’s divine life surged through me and dried my poisoned well.

I felt like Persephone emerging from Hades womb into a spring eternal. Every cell of my being sang merrily and laughter burbled in my spirit. I WAS HEALED but more than that I felt whole. Joy percolated within me and gave me a heady high rush. The future was not scary anymore; there was a fresh taste to life.

He called me to Himself. It is actually true that the eyes are the mirrors of the soul; they were pools of mercy, seas of kindness merging to form an Atlantic of love.  His azure eyes washed me over in a river of peace.

As I left him that day, all eyes were fixated on me especially that of one of his disciples. He is quite a hunk, gosh! My blush has returned. Life is beautiful once again. I skip with gaiety into a future of possibilities…..

 Yet I hear His voice forever resounding in my tomorrow, telling me the sweetest words I would ever hear………………

DAUGHTER, GO IN PEACE, YOUR FAITH HAS MADE YOU WHOLE………………..

WAZOBIA FM

                                                 

Magic hypnotizes! Seeing creativity being displayed by someone is like watching African pear (Ube) roasting on a coal fire on a rainy day while dusk comes, tiptoeing into an eastern Nigerian village. It’s a thing of beauty to see its shiny skin swell and soften under the romancing fingers of the flames. Its luscious surface then bursts and the fruit’s natural oil oozes from its cracked epidermis with a sizzling symphony, the soundtrack of gastronomic fantasies. Out of that beautiful ulcer emerges the purplish green flesh that makes one’s palate water agonizingly in delicious anticipation of combining it with fresh farm corn roasted in its tasseled skin. This is way better than any fare the cooks of Olympus could ever offer.

To be the witness of great workmanship leaves you more emotionally satiated than a Lagosian that has just gorged on “Agege” loaves combined with Ewa Agoyin (soft beans topped with the peppered sauce recipe of the Togolese and Beninoise) and washed down by vats of pure water.

I am not really one for listening to the radio, actually I could go for years without listening to one but my wife does and heavily subscribes to Wazobia FM. She loves the station so much that if it were a dude, I would have gone about perpetually green like the “Changeling”. Truth is anytime I get to listen to this station (thanks to her), I am usually enthralled. “Yaw” (his repartee usually has more panache than the riposte of the most accomplished Musketeer) and his crew, from Mayowa (her linguistic abilities spreads sweetness across my soul like marmalade on sweet bread), Diplomatic OPJ (his caustic wit is a balm that massages the rigours out of the cramps of a hectic day) to Uzo (someone said once that he would like to have her laughter as the ring tone for his phone) are absolutely WORLDCLASS!!! Their shows are pure magic. They are like magicians bringing out different coloured bunnies from the hat of their speech centres faster than the eyes can follow or ears in this case. They could make a Roman marble statue laugh more than a hyena on laughing gas. They are veritable masters of their game, spider artists weaving silken golden threads with their artistry from their office in Victoria Island to the hearts of Lagos’ citizenry. People call in, in bucketfuls absolutely bewitched. This gifted group leave a distinctive taste in your mouth like caviar on crackers! They are that good!

The above contributed to why I was absolutely stunned last week when I learnt that Wazobia FM, the most indigenous radio station in Lagos is owned by a Lebanese. That really got me thinking.

Of course from biblical times it has been shown that the Lebanese are great business people with an eye for opportunities (Laban, Jacob’s father-in-law is said to be their father, so it’s not a surprise they have such sharp business acumen). Also it is known that Africans are not one for seeing and exploiting opportunities. But life is about learning. The British brought football and are no force to be reckoned with in the soccer world anymore because other nations now play the game more beautifully.

It took foreigners to bring our natural resources to light, diamonds, oil, platinum, name it. Nigeria’s oil was discovered by them and yet we still have to ship this oil to them for processing. Almost all the best brands in this country are owned by other nationalities, from gadgets, supermarkets and healthcare is fast joining the list. Shoprite and DSTV are South African, Peak is Dutch and LG is South Korean. In my post “a sunflower in the wilderness” I wrote that despite the thousands of radiographers and radiologist in this nation, it had to take Indians to start up about the best and affordable diagnostic center in Lagos (MECURE) and right in the heart of the most dreaded part of the metropolis. Africa has tried indigenization over the years and failed abysmally. Some great brands ended up being buried.

At the inception of it all, God initial words to man was for him to have dominion. The word dominion also means take charge. Taking charge means being responsible for the resources that God has blessed the earth with, to make things work, to bring abundance out of our world, to process the things God has made to another level of refinement.

God went ahead to make Eden and placed man in it to control the environment, and to have access to all the fruits in the garden apart from the forbidden one. We are entitled to the fruits only when you are in charge. It is of course not surprising that Africa is still carrying bowls of supplication begging for alms from both God and first world countries even though it is buried up to its eyeballs in rich materials. When you are not in charge, you can’t have the fruits and even if you do get, it will be at the mercy of the person controlling the orchard. Most times the fruit you even get will be off not juicy and shiny. This is why the owners of DSTV smile to the bank while we make do under the burden of the heavy subscriptions they subject us to. This is because they took charge of the air space and have exerted their dominion there. The opening chapter of the Holy Tome actually tells us to exert our influence in the air on the ground and underwater. We need a reawakening!

That is why we need the very first words God spoke to man to ring in our consciousness like the gongs of Big Ben rousing a groggy London at dawn……..

BE FRUITFUL, MULTIPLY, REPLENISH THE WORLD, SUBDUE IT AND HAVE DOMINION (TAKE CHARGE)!

NIGERIA, A NATION OF PARROTS.....??

                                                            
Parrots are the real deal! Aside from dogs, I love them for pets. I think it would be nice to have one sitting on my shoulder like Treasure island’s Captain Flint on Long John Silver’s, squawking out “pieces of eight”. But thing is that the ones that give us so much fun and entertainment by their fusillade of mimicries are usually incarcerated. They are freedom less.  Truth is also that the frequent repetitions could grate your nerves especially on a day your emotional fuse is short. Free Macaws fly unhampered; they are nobody playthings unlike their imprisoned counterparts.
 
I heard a song Fela sang about twenty years ago yesterday and it was saddening to note that the same things he was crying about are still the issues plaguing us today; it is just that they have gotten worse. Power, water, transport, bad leadership, etc, have been Nigeria’s perennial thorns, penetrating the heart of its citizens.


The miasma of pain and the anguish from the Dana air disaster still hangs over this nation like a cloud of putrefaction over a mangrove swamp. And the whole nation is agog with the tragedy of it all. Knowing Nigerians, the whole episode would soon dissipate like tendrils of fog on a sunny morning except for the families directly involved. The agony of losing a loved one may wane with time but it never completely goes. It is a big gash on the heart that never completely heals.


Sadly enough all we do is talk! We organize a jamboree of lamentations, participate in an orgy of sorrows, dance along in the carnival of tears, orchestrate a fete of sadness and that’s where it all ends. ALL WE DO IS TALK! The carousel of destruction keeps up its monotonous circle, the wheels of déjà vu keep spinning, we have been at this point before and here we are again. A lot of noise was made just a few years ago when we lost some stars amongst them school children and the illustrious Bimbo Odukoya. The Corpers that were gruesomely massacred after the elections have been forgotten. We talked then and nothing happened, and the same circle of carnage keeps repeating itself. We parrot away while everything seems to be going to hell in a hand basket.


A lot of hue like the bright plumage of our focus bird is made, we cry until we are blue in the face yet all we get are a few seedlings of placation to smooth a few ruffled feathers while the prison wardens in their flowing robes shake their head in amusement wondering what the whole chatter is about. They are so used to our ineffectual cacophony of bedlam, the tweets, chirps and chirrups that do no good.

Panels are set up over and over again, but at the end we realize they are just like avian parades where a lot of meaningless songs are sung. After a while we don’t even remember where, and when it all ended, if it ever ended or if there was ever any verdict/conclusion.

We revel in the sensationalism of the latest broadcast and try to out tweet ourselves like that would qualify us to win the award of the most informed African Grey. We are like zonked out drunks snoring on a bed of vicious vipers oblivious to imminent cataclysm unless we wake up real fast.


But the talk is surely enough, is it not? Passengers of Charon’s canoe feel like they are on a sun filled trip as they are ferried across the Styx to Hades comparative to the kind of blackout our nation has but it doesn’t matter so long we have enough to buy fuel into our multiple generators. New kids get wiped out like old lessons on a blackboard by the duster of malaria and other ailments that should not even kill an ant if not that we have greedy rulers who keep stuffing their maws with sweets from the national treasuries. But what is the big deal if we live in upscale areas with more mosquito nets than metal grills in “Alcatraz”. A Neanderthal shows more intelligence in deciphering the letters on the Sumerian stone than our so called leaders depict even in the reading of the alphabets, but what do we care so long they continue giving us the million dollar contracts . Bombs go off at the pace of exercise induced heart beats but don’t matter much so long it happens far away from us.


So why not just talk and retreat into our gilt edged shells, bury our heads in the sands, Ostriches of self deception. With all our prattle we have become inured, developed thick skins that makes an elephant’s seem as soft as a Vaseline lubricated baby’s bottom.


The reality should have started to dawn on someone by now that the gap is now being bridged, almost no one is safe anymore whether home or abroad. We cannot remain ornamental talkers. IT IS EITHER WE DO MORE THAN TALK OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES (SOME HAVE ALREADY PAID WITH THEIR LIVES)!!!


There was a time during the exodus of the Hebrews when they were plagued by the consequences of their sin and all they did was moan, mourn and plead. While this disaster was going on, one brother was busy grooving with a Midianite doxy perpetuating the root cause of the nation’s problem until a fellow named Phinehas took a spear and lanced the couple through. That single action stayed the hand of the plague. This hero of Israel took action instead of talking. He struck at the heart of the matter, took out the root cause of the evil but before he did that 24,000 people had died. I am not advocating violence but we have to take action until the jokers who are up there start to take us seriously. Our destiny and that of our progenies are at stake here. WE HAVE TO TAKE CONTROL!!!


Some people say we should keep praying. I strongly believe that if you are a Christian, about the most potent force you can exploit is the power of prayer but prayer is not everything. There is no better model of prayer than Elijah the Tishbite(anyone who prays down rain knows a thing or two about prayers) in the scriptures but when Israel was infested with the bugs of bad leadership, aside from praying, he confronted the king and his henchmen. King’s Ahab’s regime was reminiscent of Nigeria, spiritual darkness that could be likened to PHCN power, famine that caused economic hardship, Jezebel his wife, a terrible first lady, murdering of anyone who stood in the way of their gain like they killed Naboth and the roll call of evil goes on. While other prophets were hiding in caves, Elijah confronted these people and started a spiritual revolution that toppled them. He put some of their spiritual advisers to the sword. Someone had to account for all the bad things going on like extirpating the lives of infants on the altar of Baal.

In the movie "the Good, Bad and Ugly, someone wanted to kill "Ugly" and droned on and on until "Ugly" was able to get a vantage point of shooting at him. I never forget what he said, "if you want to shoot, shoot! Dont talk!

Allow me to digress a bit but if any of you leaders are reading this, you might not have figured this out though it is not rocket science, the airline you didn’t do anything about might cause the death of you or your loved ones, the gully in that road you refused to build might end up swallowing your soul like a Venus fly trap eats up a fly, the hospital you neglected might be the one that your sole grandchild would be taken to in an emergency before your jet gets ready to evacuate her abroad and by then it might be too late. The schools you refuse to build might raise the assassins that will have you in the cross hairs of their rifles tomorrow. Don’t be deceived, whatsoever a man shows that shall he also reap, it is a given. You cannot run away from this one.

Nigeria is our kingdom; the ruler is never more than the people especially in a democracy. We call the shots and that had better begin to dawn on us.


Elijah knew something about the kingdom of God that most of us have not cottoned on to…

“THE KINGDOM OF GOD IS NOT IN WORDS BUT IN POWER”!!!

ROBERTO DI MATTEO.....

                                                                            

I wanted Chelsea to lose! You know how the story ended, don’t you? Thing is, I used to be a blues fan. I loved the two dreaded wonders who with Van Basten helped Netherlands win the 1988 European cup. When Ruud Gullit went over to Chelsea from AC Milan to become a player coach, I naturally followed him and became a diehard fan of the blues. All through the Italian revolution that had Gianluca Vialli, Pierlughi Casiraghi, Roberto Di Matteo and Gianfranco Zola play for the club, to when it became a veritable melting pot of nationalities with the Spaniards Ferrer and Sergi as full backs, the Norwegian, Tore Andre Flo, the Uruguayan, Gustavo Poyet, the Dutchmen, Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink and the goalkeeper, what’s his name now….ah ha.. Ed De Goey and until Claudio Ranieri took over with Mario Melchiot (subjectively, he is one of the best right backs in the world, who did not fully fulfill his potential) running down the right flank. Then the Special one took over, I respected his confidence and absolutely abhorred his pride, same reason I can’t abide CR7 but absolutely in love with Lionel Messi because of his humility. I turned my back on Chelsea!

The last Champions league finals will go into the annals of football history as one of the best ever. It had enough heart stopping drama to make it a Hollywood production but it was said that Michel Platini tried his best to make ensure it was a Barca, Real Madrid finals and failed. To me even a classico could not have ended better than the match we saw, nail biting tension and all. The rapid succession of classico games played recently has made them a bit monotonous for me; personally I don’t think it would have made a great final. Thing is that lots of the time in life we try to work things out with our own wisdom and strength like  Mr. Platini but if you are a Christian, wisdom should tell you that God has better things in store for us, so it does not pay to try and scheme our way through life. We should play by the rules and quietly trust God. For example if as a lady, you have changed everything about yourself just to make a guy slip a band on your finger, you are probably trying too hard, it is not supposed to be that difficult. The dude is not your knight in shining armour my sister, please walk. There is a better guy in store for you. Cheating to make a quick buck is also not worth it and the list goes on. Absalom, the son of David used every kind of manipulation and machination to dethrone his dad in his bid to become king and died in the process. Since his dad loved him so much, he would most probably have become king if patience had been a virtue of his. Machiavelli was wrong; the end never justifies the means if the means is wrong.

One thing that astonished me was the way Chelsea and its fans believed even when the deck was obviously stacked against them. They dug into the trenches and fought the fight of their lives. In life, it’s not over until it’s over. It does not matter the disadvantage you have or the hand life might have given you, NEVER QUIT, NEVER BACK DOWN, SIMPLY BELIEVE, HAVE FAITH!!! FAITH MOVES MOUNTAINS!!!

My buddy bro Emeka told me that even though the odds were against Chelsea that they had something, someone who will make all the difference, that is Didier Drogba (humble fellow he is I must say), and I laughed him to scorn. My laughter came back to haunt him and not as Casper the friendly ghost. The Ivorian turned out to be the ace that changed the game. In the game of life we all need aces even God after using all the plagues in the world had to resort to the blood covenant to break the hold of Pharaoh and Egypt over the Israelites. WHAT IS YOUR ACE??

How powerful can cards be in the game of life? After seeing The Gambit of the X-men fame using explosive cards to do away with enemies, you would agree with me that cards can be dangerous in doing a foe in, wild-cards. Against Bayern Munich, Ryan Bertrand was a wild card, an unforeseeable and an unpredictable element that helped to clip Arjen Robben’s wings. God’s a master of wild-cards. Moses was reared in Pharaohs household, Jesus was born by a virgin, veterans of war could not kill Goliath with the best of war armaments and here comes “lil” David and brings the man mountain down with a sling and a stone, ridiculous. If these are not wild-cards then I don’t know what is?

Study life! Czech studied the penalties of the Germans and came away unbowed. We all need to be students of life; this is one of the sure ways to avoid being victims. Samson was betrayed once by a Philistine filly and did not learn his lesson; he later fell for a Philistine vixen and lost his life. Understanding life helps us know the direction to face when things get kicking. It saves you from projectiles that could topple your aspirations.

Believe and invest in a dream! Roman Abramovich did not let up on his dream and invested billions into it. He came away with the grand prize!

I have been plunged into darkness before. Black and stygian, boiling and living, its maws filled with poisonous fangs, breath full of peppery mist and bowels filled with pain that stung like a sting ray until every cell of my being was marinated in excruciating agony. But even though the pain has almost being buried in the sands of time, I still remember the sweetness of the embrace I got from pals who tried to ease the pain (Dego, Nonso, Dozie, Pst Toyin, a million thanks). One of the things about that game I would never forget was when Didier gave a broken, confused Robben a hug. There is nothing like the hug of empathy, an embrace of comfort. Seriously, I have never been able to understand people who leave a wake of pain and hurts wherever they go. The bridge of relationships is one of the strongest things ever, makes that of San Francisco seem like a makeshift tangle of raffia and bamboo sticks. Let us always endeavour to reach out a helping hand, a loving hand, a hand of camaraderie.

Then of course, the Hero of the whole saga, Roberto Di Matteo! This brother makes a cucumber seem hot and sweaty. He is the James bond of the round leather world. I can almost wager that he introduces himself by saying my name is Di Matteo, Roberto Di Matteo.  He is suave, debonair and urbane, can keep his shirt on intact after a battle with a wounded lion. Dandy and cool, he led Chelsea to an unbelievable victory. I told someone recently that one of the worst tragedies in life is committing suicide; it’s an extremely stupid act, absolutely foolish. This is because the winds of fortune can blow in your direction at any minute, the fact that you seem down on your luck today doesn’t mean that your situation has been cast in stone. Ask Roberto, outcast eighteen months ago, hero today. Even when the cup was won, he did not exhibit the kind of euphoria that would make one think he never expected it. His stone cold nerves of steel showed that he knew he had it in him, so it was going to be sooner than later. The thing in life is to keep investing and practicing so that when the platform of fortune shows up, we would be ready to perform on the grand stage.

Loads of people have concluded that the Chelsea victory was as a result of serendipity but I beg to disagree. Fortune favours the brave. That victory came by sheer grits, tenacious guts, meticulous preparation, strategic planning and good management powered by an exceptional Italian. Roberto Di Matteo, I DOFF MY HAT!!!

This whole tale of fortitude and unbelievable triumph sparked off the timeless verse Paul told the Galatians in my heart and it’s been burning like the fires in Vulcan’s forge.

“BE YE NOT WEARY IN WELL DOING, FOR IN DUE SEASON, YOU SHALL REAP IF YOU FAINT NOT.”