Religion, Politics : the immiscible mixture 1

    Religion explained by Collins English dictionary terms it as belief in, worship of, or obedience to a supernatural power(s) considered to be divine or have control of human destiny.

    Arguably so, religion interferes with day to day living. As man interacts with man and his environment . it's not strange rather, would interplay of man and religion make a great deal of news.

    Man as apply described as a social being is bound to interact, displaying inert tendencies, holding tenaciously to the apron strings if power to both secure himself and advance interest of his group.

    Politics as described as the complex relationship of people in society cannot be far from the obvious truth. As man moves around in this complex relationship, he carries about his religion. How well would religion slide down the throats of politics?

   A formal institutionalized expression of beliefs based on the supernatural flowing with a belief of intrigues, personal ideals, idea, ethos. Ain't we in for a serious face-off?

    "Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of the soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people" - Karl Marx.

    Politics which aims to uplift the helpless, philosophers who see religion as a comfort to the voiceless oppressed, would they be right? Won't politics deal fatal blow to faith when there is a blind move into it? Won't the temptation of diving into politics alter or completely give a technical blow to faith?

   "The weapon of criticism cannot, of course, replace criticism of the weapon, material force must be overthrown by material forces as soon as it has gripped the masses" - Karl Marx.

    With cries from certain quarters that the wrong set of people are into politics, would the thought of Marx be appropriate? Would it lay credence to his thought? With the poor yearning for individuals in the realm of faith make a triumphant entry into the political battle ground, wouldn't  spell doom to faith?

    Probing the material or weapon, which would give the perfect turn? Which would be the supersub?

A NATIONAL HERO

   We went about our normal duties, listening, hearing and seeing various media channels tell us about ur exploit as the latest kid on the block. Living our lives like the best way we could, it was inconceivable to have you around us.

   Left with no inkling you were staging a trip down here. Alas! It came, a disastrous one.

   Flying via Asky airlines from James spriggs Payne Airport in Monrovia, Liberia to Maritala Muhammed Airport Lagos, Nigeria with a stopover at Lome, Togo, it found it's way.

   Ebola was transported, no thanks to the late Mr. Sawyer. Reports had it that you were seriously I'll, why did u make d journey? How come you were permitted to fly? While did u come to Nigeria? These and more were asked in our desperate need for answers.

   Did you liken your infected urine to clean water running down the shower that should ever touch any one? Spraying ur urine at everyone and anyone at sight, would that slide as a mistake?

   We seek no appoligies. The humiliation of our nationals in transit, the rejection and segregation of our national who were on a national assignment far away in Asia. Where would the efficacy of the apology begin?

   No thanks to you EBOLA, you took our own from us. Painted the hearts of loved ones with permanent stains, piercing their hearts with sorrow.

   Hmm! To our own DR.(MRS) AMEYO STELLA ADADEVOR.

   Slowly u crept in,
   With an intent, u came in.
   You found a way,
   But the you didn't find the way in.

   Hmm you got us enlisted,
   But u met the brick walls.

   The clock ticked,
   With fear, we began to think.
   Fear came over us,
   We knew we were not thick.

    You had just a thought,
    And that was us.

    Till the last breathe,
    Your heart of gold thought of our safety.

     It's a year you crossed over to the other side, we can only think of the fight, the great battle, you stood.
     What more than what you did would anyone have done, your very dear life as a shield to seas of heads.

    My eyes are gaining weight, it threatens downpour.

    You are a HERO. Unborn generations respects you, past generations hail you, present generation cherish you.

    It's been a year so far, you are remembered for ur selflessness. What more than to name the world humanitarian day celebration in Nigeria after her.

    Dear DR.(MRS) AMEYO STELLA ADADEVOR, R.I.P

STORYTELLING, THE AFRICAN WAY: An endangered art

   Storytellingis the act of conveying events using words as it's vehicle. Storytelling, simply called narratives instills cultural, educational and entertainment values.
   The ever changing world has not left the art of storytelling out of it's sphere of influence.
   Among the category I term innovative art, the art of storytelling is now an endangered specie.
   Once known as a trademark of the African community/settlement, the sight of people (especially young ones) gather round a storyteller or a narrator to listen to stories couched in morals and spices with humor is almost been confined to the archive of history.
   Storytelling period was one every child looks up to, gathering round grand pa/ma, mum or dad, close relative to tap from their store of knowledge. It was a delight.
   Storytelling fostered social and family ties amidst siblings, compound/community peers. As we evolved, our social life's as Africans have been infected rather slowly with the social media virus, spending more of our time before the screens.
   Siblings in our present day time and age rather get a window to interact with themselves safe for the time they struggle for possession of the remote controls to the TV sets. The 8am-5pm schedule rob parents of precious bonding time with their children leaving them with little or no time for themselves to spare.
   I remember stories we call grandma/pa, mum/dad's tale that taught us to be contented, instilled in us the courtesy, teaching us to say 'thank you', avoid greed and not to envy others. No better location/site than staying under the shades of trees, as we get served with the cool natural breeze(better than the synthetic air conditioning set).
   Permit me remind you of the instance we were told as a child not to drink the water found in the center of the coconut cos it would result in academic retardation. Smiles, those it strike a cord?
   The moral of the story teaches us to teach us not to be greedy and have total content in the nut offered to us.
   As we grabble with letting our much adored skill/art that has spanned generations leave us through the doors, won't we be serving a delicious meal of injustice to the next generation?
   We now leave the duty of storytelling to tales by moonlight and animated characters(cartoons).
   Sighs! Are we doing well in this regard?
   Feel free to share stories u remember so someone from the 'indomie' generation could have a feel of real storytelling.
  

Where does it reside?

Respect, mouthed by many but where does it really lie? Would it be safe to rest in the realm of speaking, acting or combination of both?

   A life experience by an individual brings sparks this puzzle. Joining a bus with an elderly man enroute a location in unarguably a socioeconomic hub in West Africa, in extension Africa and to a microscopic effect, the world. Making the concept conceivable.

   Few minutes into the journey, the man behind the steering demanded his fare. Fellow occupant began to direct their fares to him.

   Of course to a man who knows his trade, it took him no time to discover someone has not turned in his fare.

   The defaulter, an elderly man was sitting beside this individual. The individual caught in between silence and reality kept mute.

   Suddenly, the defaulter remembered he carried a mobile vault. He didn't hesitate to bring out all the money he had in his pocket and began an unending financial balancing and allocation.

   Almost at the eleventh hour, he brought out his fare and send it further despite calls for it after a long while. I could interpret a despiteful demeanour on his face.

  Assume he was confronted on deliberately deciding to withhold his fare, won't his subconscious term it disrespect?

   Does stating the obvious translate to disrespect? Is respect supposed to be earned or it's a thing of compulsion or statutory obligation?

  How do you see the concept of RESPECT?

Leadership: A hitherto empty crusade

The tag of been a leader for so many makes their world go round, how often do we ponder on basic leadership arithmetic? Leadership transcends beyond congregating people together precising over their activities, it goes beyond been called nice name, attaching wonderful appendages like medals round his neck. Needless bore you with dictionary meaning of a leader or what leadership is. The rule of thumb tells you to be a leader, you must be able to lead yourself. How do u fail in everything as pertain personal life and hope to miraculously be a successful leader? Will 1+1 yield 3 or 1+0 yield 5? A correspondent of a media outfit in the social commercial hub of Nigeria asked a young man his viewpoints on the readiness/preparedness youth to step into leadership position. The only answer that resonated through his head was a NO NO, a state of unprepared crop of youth. The puzzling questions are these. Does leadership skill develop in a vacuum? Are the building blocks in scare supply? How do the individual (would-be leaders) view priceless virtues? Do integrity, honesty, self control come handy to him as a virtue? Can we pick out 6 out 10 individuals with deep since of self-control, a great deal of honesty and impeccable integrity but we all tout so many who are at best meant to lead themselves as leaders. Leaders are born and leaders are made. On either side, these ingredients are essential. Before you slowly slump into uncontrolled state of uncontrolled leadership appetite spend time to lead yourself to serve harbour before you stir others on the ship with others on-board.

Honesty

I once had a nice time with men, dwelt, eat,
drank and was drunk of men. I could beat my
chest to say I am in virtually in the heart, mind
and thought of people.
Alas! unknown to me, that my reign would be
short lived. Had I known I would have created a
stamp, signed autographs on their foreheads so
I could be identified by those who still think it
wise to carry me about.
How can I explain this? I’ve lost my grip on so
many. Now an endangered specie , hmm! do
people believe a can survive this deliberate and
conscious move to starve me?
I know my own and am known of them.