Did You Know That, Life Is Unfair?
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The last time I checked, we were yet to note that life
isn't fair to mankind. Have you ever wondered why
having put in your very best into a certain cause you
are involved, failure would still be the outcome in the
long run? The answer is simple and succinct; life itself
is unfair.
Believe it or not; life was not, has not been, and will
never be, fair. People in most quarters are often of the
notion that life is like mathematics, which gives you
two when you add one to one. On the contrary, life
could give you eleven when one is added to one.
It's noteworthy that, in some circumstances, life would
drill your person in such a manner that you would begin
to wonder if your existence is abhorred by nature; that
you would inadvertently ponder over the reason you
were created in the first place.
This is why everyone is bound to be a member of a revered
school of thought known as realism. Realism, which does
not withhold facts, teaches mankind how to aptly absorb the
intricacies of life. It makes man to appreciate the content
of life to the fullness. It gives mankind the insight on how to
comprehend that life is never friendly.
It suffices to say that, on the average, a realist doesn't frown
at the hurdles brought by life because he or she has ab initio
acknowledged that life itself is unfair.
At this juncture, I challenge us to be strong enough to handle
whatever experience life, or nature, may bring. All in all, don't
expect to be favoured by life irrespective of the circumstance.
Just endeavour to do your best, exercise a little faith, and leave
the rest for your fate. #ThinkAboutIt
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Friday, 29 September 2017
Wednesday, 27 September 2017
ShortStory I Effect Of Ignorance
EFFECT OF
IGNORANCE
“Tosin.” Ayo called friendly.
“My Oga.” responded Tosin.
“Abeg stop this your oga of a thing.”
Ayo urged. “My name is Ayo.”
“But, you are my oga nah.”
“Oga ko, oga ni.” Ayo disapproved in vernacular.
“Okay ooh!”
“Well,” Ayo rode on. “Abi won ask you
how we go roll today.” he said, paused. “The route we entered yesterday didn’t
make sense at all..” he added.
Ayo
and Tosin operated a commercial L300 bus owned and managed by a transport
investor, in the city of Lagos. The former was the driver of the vehicle whilst
the latter happened to be the conductor. Therein as they leaned on the front
side of the bus in question, at about some minutes past seven O’clock in the
morning on a Tuesday, they were as usual discussing how the day’s operation
would be as well as the actual route(s) they would be plying.
The
32-year-old Ayo who was clad in a casual attire had before now strongly
registered his disappointment over the route they plied in the previous day
being Monday, stating that the revenue generated was very poor compared to
their earlier outings; hence, wanted the 25-year-old Tosin to suggest a way
forward.
“Let’s enter Mile-2.” Tosin suggested.
“From Mile-2 to where?” verified Ayo.
“Oshodi.”
They were already at Oshodi, thus
were meant to be headed for Mile-2 after loading the bus.
“Okay,” concurred Ayo. “Make we try nah.”
In a few seconds time, they drove
off. Some minutes on, they were on the ever-busy road situated between the two
aforementioned localities.
“Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh!”
Tosin resumed duty at the top of his voice as he clinched to the bus’ entry
point like a monkey that intended catching banana. “Mile-2 ooo, Mile-2 ooo,
Mile-2 ooo!!” he supplemented in a louder mode.
Intermittently, people kept trouping in
while the vehicle was slightly on motion as he (Tosin) kept alerting
prospective passengers to patronize the 18-seetter bus that wore yellowish
paint as requested by the Lagos transport authority.
“Everybody hold your change ooh..!” Ayo
conscientized as he ebulliently controlled the throttle, letting the passengers
realize the compelling need to enter the bus with low denomination (naira)
notes.
“Mile-2 ooo, Mile-2 ooo, Mile-2 ooo!”
Tosin proceeded with alacrity. “Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh, Mile-2 ooh!!” he
reiterated.
The exclamation continued unabated till the
vehicle got filled to the conductor’s delight.
“Everybody hold your change oooh…” Ayo
echoed as the tradition demanded.
For those who were already in the bus
when the first message came from the driver, that was meant to serve as a
reminder.
“Everybody hold your change.” he
repeated after some seconds. “We no get change oooh!!”
Having gotten the required number of
passengers, the vehicle zoomed off, and headed towards its destination. Owing
to traffic jam and what have you, it had to move slow and steady. What matters
most was that it would surely arrive at Mile-2 as requested by its passengers.
“O
boy,” Ayo called his assistant who was still standing by the door. “Abeg begin
to collect my moni.” He urged.
Tosin was not too steady in the job, so he
(the driver) needed to continue reminding him of how it was being done.
“No
wahala.” replied the ever-vibrant Tosin.
Few seconds later, unfortunately, the vehicle
broke down to everyone’s utmost surprise. “What could be the problem?” one of
the male passengers thought aloud.
“Na wa ooh!” exclaimed a woman who sat
beside the man.
It seemed the fuel had dried up, and they were
so careless enough that they didn’t bother opening the bus’s bonnet let alone checking
the fuel tank before commencing the day’s outing.
It was about 8.00am. It wasn’t news that
an average passenger on the busy Lagos road was impatient, thus could not
afford to experience any bit of delay while headed for his/her working place,
especially the employees who were more time conscious.
Each occupant in the bus individually stepped
out, hoping that the plight would be fixed soonest or to be transferred to
another vehicle plying the route. Ayo and Tosin equally stepped out, and the latter
hurriedly went to the bus’ booth, picked a fuel gallon and headed for a nearby
filling station.
Minutes on, the bus was refueled,
hence, regained its energy. Consequently, the pathetically-looking passengers
were conscientized to resume their respective seats.
Within a twinkle of an eye, Ayo
reignited the engine and changed the gear immediately. “Abeg, start dey collect
moni.” He reminded his assistant.
“Abeg,” Tosin told the passengers in
accordance with the directive issued by the boss. “Make everybody hold he hundred
naira for hand.” He enjoined in pidgin.
On hearing the instruction, everyone
quickly exposed the naira notes within his or her reach. Without wasting much
time, Tosin began to collect the notes from each of them, starting from those
seated at the row sited beside the driver.
He was shock to his bone barrow when
he got to the turn of a young lady seated very close to him; the said lady who
seemed to be in her early twenties handed a thousand naira note over to him.
“Wetin be this?” Tosin queried.
“Which question be that?” the lady
replied in a more unfriendly mood.
“Shebi we tell una say make una hold una
change?” the driver interrupted.
She got infuriated by the query. “So if I
don’t have change, I should not go to where I want to go?”
“Which kai temptation be this?” quoth Tosin.
“You for tell me say you no get change the time wey you enter motor.”
“Abeg-abeg-abeg,” she boiled. “I don’t
have time to argue with a common conductor like you.”
“Nawa ooh..?” exclaimed Tosin. “We
never reach that side nah.” He said, trying to inform the lady that she was
overreacting.
Rather than calming down, acknowledging the submissiveness
of the conductor as well as the fact that she was faulty, the seeming
troublesome lady became hotter thereby continue to call Tosin names such as
tout, nonentity, and so on. Nevertheless, the abused person never got offended;
instead he chose to laugh over the scenario.
Having been intensely pissed off by
the rate of the abuses, Ayo hastily cleared to the roadside and applied the
brakes. “Come let me tell you,” he said, facing the abusive lady while still
seated in his seat. “The young man you are calling all sorts of names is a
fourth year student of Medicine and Surgery in the University of Ibadan, UI.”
He informed.
On receiving the information, the
passengers unanimously shook their heads in amazement. They – particularly the
lady – looked at Tosin in silent awe. The lady melted in a jiffy and
inadvertently began to weep as she tenderly fixed her gaze on Tosin’s who was
seated by the door-side.
Ayo was also a graduate. He studied
engineering in one of the universities in the West, Nigeria. Due to unemployment
palaver, he chose to settle for his current occupation which he had been into
for over two years now. Tosin who hailed from a poor home usually assisted him
whenever he had a semester break.
Funnily enough, the abusive lady who
had now ostensibly embraced repentance was seeking for admission in the
aforesaid institution (U.I) to study Marketing and her chances of securing
admission was far-fetched.
FDN Nwaozor
Executive
Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri
_____________________________
Twitter:
@mediambassador
Monday, 18 September 2017
Opinion I Okorocha And The Ongoing Payment Of Pension Arrears
OKOROCHA AND THE
ONGOING PAYMENT OF PENSION ARREARS
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The
last time I checked, there were ongoing rigorous payments of pension arrears in
Imo, the Eastern Heartland. The gesture might not be unconnected with the
pledge recently tendered by the state’s number-one citizen, Governor Rochas
Okorocha.
It
would be recalled that on Thursday 20th July 2017, the governor via
a press release confirmed the receipt of seven billion naira Paris Club refund
from the Federal Government (FG). He went further to disclose that the Rescue
Mission Administration would use the fund to clear the backlog of pension
arrears, commencing from January 2017 till date. He equally stated that
workers’ salaries would as well be paid with the fund.
The
release recognized that the government had earlier promised to start paying the
pensioners on a monthly basis beginning from the first month of 2017. The
statement read in parts ‘the government kept this promise in abeyance following the steady and
disturbing increase in the number of pensioners and the amount involved, worrisomely
snowballing to more than #1.5 billion’.
Consequently,
in August the following month, the government began a holistic verification of
the teeming pensioners across the Local Government councils in the state having
set up a Pension Verification Committee. The exercise was concluded as planned.
It’s worth noting that those who were indisposed owing to illness or what have
you, were captured via video call at the Children’s Recreation Park opposite
Concorde Hotel Owerri as was conducted by the said screening panel.
In subsequent to the concluded verification,
payment began in earnest as scheduled, and still ongoing. Any other individual
or leader would have allowed the written cheques to be collected by proxy since
each of the pensioners had painstakingly been verified, but the governor
insisted that they must come in person to clear their cheques. The governor’s
decision was informed by the compelling need to ensure that no foul play is
involved throughout the exercise with a view to discovering the loopholes that
had warranted the excesses recorded in the past as well as fishing out the bad
eggs therein.
Most of the senior citizens grumbled over the
directive of the governor, which they tagged ‘uncalled for and inconsequential
inconvenience’. But it’s noteworthy that the said directive of the government
under the watch of Gov. Okorocha had yielded a worthwhile fruit thus far. It is
good to acknowledge that the prangs played by some of the account officers had
reportedly been revealed, and the culpable officers fished out, in the ongoing
process.
One may wish to know how those prangs
were discovered. Having written the cheques by the concerned staff of the
state’s Pension Board, the governor went ahead to engage virtually all the
Directors of Account (DAs) presently serving in various ministries and
parastatals in the state. The prime duty of the DAs was to ensure that only one
cheque was written for a particular pensioner as well as ensure that the cheque
is duly confirmed and collected by the beneficiary whose name is inscribed on
it.
So far, we have learnt that a given
pensioner’s name was written on different cheques, probably three cheque papers
or thereabouts. For instance, if Mr. A is meant to collect #5, rather #15 or
more would leave the state’s coffer for that particular name in a case where
three cheques were written in that very name. In some cases, the cheques were
written in the names of non-pensioners. You could imagine the excesses? This
was how these account personnel had been rolling for years now unnoticed, not
until this point when the governor thought it wise to take the bull by the
horn.
No wonder why in the past when
pensioners collect their cheques, before they could get to their respective
banks, they would be told that the account where the pension fund is domiciled
had been emptied. Little did they realize that several non-pensioners were
withdrawing from the same account to the detriment of the real beneficiaries.
Now the thunderous breeze had blown open the dirty ass of the fowl.
I
candidly commend the governor for this giant stride. This accomplishment is arguably
best of its kind. With this development, I am sure the pensioners can now be
paid as and when due without much ado. I equally appreciate everyone who had
played one key role or the other towards ascertaining the above lapses, thus
wish that more feathers would be added to their wings.
However,
this scrutiny mustn’t stop at this juncture. The government who has started
this exemplary move needs to ensure that everyone found culpable is henceforth
duly prosecuted having shown the way out. It suffices to say that no mercy ought
to be displayed by the relevant authorities. The indicted staff ought to be
handed over to the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) for
corresponding actions to be taken thereof. This would go a long way to serve as
a deterrent to other prospective ones. I’m also not unaware that a few
politicians might be accomplices to these civil servants; hence, they must
equally be fished out so that the system would be holistically free from sycophants
and hypocrites.
Above all, I have been reliably
informed that only three months pension arrears are being paid to the senior
citizens rather than eight months as earlier pledged. The report indicates that
they were asked to come back the following week for the remaining ones. Against
this backdrop, I urge the government to endeavour to do the needful so that in
the long run, there won’t be any more exchange of words between them and these
revered pensioners who had indeed served the state meritoriously. I may not be
one of them but I feel and share their grief, thus I plead with the government
to stick to its promise.
Similarly, there should equally be an
arrangement that would enable those who are currently bedridden or residing outside
the country to collect their cheques. In view of this, I’m of the view that the
video call measure deployed during the verification era ought to be redeployed
at this time. This would ensure that no beneficiary is sidelined as long as the
exercise lasts.
Most importantly, there’s a compelling need
for the governor to make an alternative arrangement towards ensuring that in
subsequent time, the collection of cheques would be decentralized. The old men
and women should be saved from the torture of covering distances in order to
possess their cheques. The government must note that most of these individuals are
weak and aged, thus deserved to be pampered.
In acknowledgement of the above fact,
let various teams be set up, so that, the pensioners can collect their cheques
at their respective wards. The need for setting up numerous teams is to ensure
that the exercise is conducted simultaneously and just on one day, rather than
the ongoing style where each LGA would be involved on a particular day.
So, as much as I appreciate the governor for
this remarkable effort showcased by his administration, I enjoin His Excellency
to ensure that henceforth we shall be awash with progressive discussions and
happenings instead of retrogressive ones. This is purely the dream of all, and
not mine. Think about it!
Comrade FDN Nwaozor
Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri______________________________
frednwaozor@gmail.com
Twitter: @mediambassador
Sunday, 17 September 2017
ShortStory I Concealed ill
CONCEALED ILL
“Engr.
Egun.” Dr. Kuku called as he was seated in his office chair.
“Yes sir.” responded Engr. Peter Egun who sat
directly opposite the caller.
“What is this I am hearing about you?”
“What is it, sir?”
Dr. Andrew Kuku had remained hell-bent toward
ensuring that things were done the right way. Ever since he popularly emerged
as the Head of the Department of Civil Engineering in the revered Otiko Polytechnic
situated in the South-South zone of Nigeria, eleven months back precisely, he
had ostensibly vowed never to give room for any sort of criminality or
immorality, which included truancy, exam malpractice and ‘sorting’, among the
overall staff and students of the highly rated department.
Barely
three months back, he recommended a lecturer in the department who allegedly molested
female students sexually for dismissal right before the polytechnic Senate. The
recommendation became consequential after countless reports received about the
serial shameless acts of the alleged randy teacher. Consequently, the teacher
in question Engr. Joel Okala was suspended, and upon investigations of a 5-man
Committee set up by the polytechnic management, he was thereafter outrightly
disengaged.
Since about twelve weeks ago Engr.
Okala was dismissed by the polytechnic Governing Body, every staff not just in
the Civil Engineering department but in the entire Otiko Polytechnic had
thought it wise to sit up toward averting any form of embarrassment that could
be linked to their persons. But as the saying goes ‘there will always be a
Judas amid the twelve apostles’, it seemed Engr. Peter Egun was yet another
Judas in the midst of the disciples who had strongly vowed to remain committed
to their respective duties having witnessed Engr. Okala’s fate.
Therein, in the office of Dr. Andrew
Kuku in the morning on a Monday, precisely at about few minutes past ten, Engr.
Egun – a Masters degree holder in Civil Engineering – was about to be orally
queried by the boss. The meeting was necessitated by the rumours that had
filtered in lately, insinuating that the latter had been busy demanding money
from his students in return for good grades. The H.O.D had in the previous day
being Sunday called him (Engr. Egun) on phone, instructing him to see him in
the office unfailingly on the following day.
“That you now go about asking students for
money,” Dr. Kuku rode on, frowning. “For good grades?”
“What..?” exclaimed Engr. Egun, stood up.
“Sit down, sit down.” the boss urged tenderly,
gesticulating.
Engr. Egun resumed his seat as requested,
looked not unlike an ex-convict that was just released from the prison yard
after many years of imprisonment.
The dark-skinned and plump Dr. Kuku who was
clad in Safari fabric, supported his lower jaw with his left arm that stood
erectly on the table. “So you mean,” he said. “All these things I have been
hearing are mere unfounded rumours?” He added, keeping his gaze on his
(Egun’s).
The
sparingly light-complexioned and slim Engr. Egun quickly adjusted himself as he
sat loosely in his seat. “Sir honestly,” he responded. “I don’t really know
where this is coming from.” he said, paused. “Why would someone want to paint
me black?”
“Hmmm…” Dr. Kuku exclaimed. “This is getting
interesting.” He thought aloud.
There was a brief silence.
“Okay,” said the Doc. “You can take your
leave.”
Engr. Egun who was apparently trapped
on the ground, was calm, couldn’t make a move
“I said,” uttered the boss. “You can
take your leave.” He frankly reechoed.
“You mean,” said Engr. Egun. “I can leave..?”
he verified in false pretences, gesticulating.
“Yes,” replied Dr. Kuku. “Since you
have refuted the allegation, what else do you expect me to say?”
From the reactions thus far, the
accused person could sense that the accuser was not yet convinced that he was
innocent. “Okay,” uttered the former. “But I would like to ask, sir…” he said, still
seated.
“What is it?” interrupted the accuser.
“How did you hear such rumour, sir?”
“Of what need would such information be
to you?” responded the boss.
There was absolute tranquility.
“I am asking, Engr. Egun?” reminded the
Doc. “Why do you want to know how I got the rumour?”
“No sir,” said Engr. Egun. “Just that…”
he added, suddenly stopped.
“Just what?” uttered Dr. Kuku. “I
thought clear conscience fears no accusation?” he hinted. “So, I see no reason
you should be worried about this.”
“I am worried because this is
ridiculous.”
“Let me bother about that.” quoth Dr.
Kuku.
“Besides,” said the junior colleague.
“My personality is at stake here.”
The boss smiled stylishly. “Since you are
innocent,” he said. “That shouldn’t bother you at all.” he added, paused.
“After all, rumours are constant.”
Engr. Egun stared at him in silent
awe.
“Now, you can take your leave.”
“Okay sir.” Engr. Egun replied, stood
up and calmly walked towards the door.
The
H.O.D, on his part, leaned on his seat and folded his arms, smiling. “This is the
end of the road for you.” He thought, as he keenly watched the accused walked
away.
In a few seconds interval, Engr. Peter Egun
was out of the office and headed for his as he was deeply preoccupied with fear
of the unknown just like one docked in a court of competent jurisdiction.
“Okay,” Dr. Kuku said aloud the moment Engr.
Egun left. “We shall see.”
As time went on, Engr. Peter Egun
remained jittery, not knowing what the next second entailed. Even if he was
innocent, such allegation had a way of making the accused look like an escape
goat in the eyes of the public. He was of the notion that since such news had
gotten to the H.O.D, virtually every staff in the department must have come
across it. This presumption alone made him felt guilty before his colleagues.
Three weeks on, he was eventually caught
in the act. He was spotted in his office collecting gratification from his
class representative who acted as an intermediary between him and the students.
The H.O.D, Dr. Andrew Kuku was alerted immediately to come and see for himself.
Afterwards, Engr. Egun joined his ill-fated
colleague Engr. Joel Okala. His removal raised uncontrollable uproar among his
teeming students who had immensely benefitted from his ‘benevolent’ policy.
Some of the affected undergraduates would have seemingly preferred the death of
their relatives to their benefactor’s sack.
After
Peter’s dismissal, Dr. Kuku reiterated the riot act of his administration to
his workers with a view to ensuring that the likes of engineers Okala and Egun
had a rethink.
However, something unthinkable transpired
merely four weeks after the sack of Engr. Peter Egun; Dr. Kuku was caught
red-handed having carnal knowledge of one of his female students right in his seeming
respected office. That fateful day appeared like the end of the world to the
entire staff and management of the department, and of course the polytechnic
community.
He
was dismissed by the institution and handed over to the police for onward
prosecution. Consequently, he was jailed for twelve years with hard labour.
FDN Nwaozor
Executive
Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri_____________________________________
Follow: @mediambassador
Monday, 11 September 2017
Opinion I Owerri Tricycle Riders, TAXIMO and The Days Ahead
TRICYCLE
RIDERS, TAXIMO AND THE DAYS AHEAD
________________________________
Twitter: @mediambassador
http://facebook.com/TheMediaAmbassador
The
last time I checked, the entire commercial tricycle riders operating within the
five-kilometre-radius of the Owerri metropolis had been given till 30th
September 2017 to vacate the said territory. The press release, which was
issued by the Imo State government penultimate week, implies that as from the
first day of October this year, the concerned commuters would cease to be
recognized by the apt authorities.
The moment I got the info, the first
statement I made was ‘Imo is at it again’. The exclamation was informed by the
obvious fact that this is happening barely few days after the revered Ekeukwu
Owerre market was eventually relocated amidst several disagreements cum mixed
feelings. In fact, if I am opportune to reiterate the exclamation, I would
rather say, Governor Okorocha is at it again.
It’s noteworthy that the directive was
necessitated by the apparent ugly outlook the riders of the affected vehicle
otherwise known widely as ‘Keke’ have constituted within the nooks and crannies
of the city in question since its inception, thereby showcasing what could best
be described as a ‘menace’. It’s not anymore news that in recent times, in
terms of traffic congestion, virtually all the tricycle operators have
ostensibly become worst than the riders of commercial motorcycle – popularly
referred to as ‘Okada’ – that were banned from operating in the city years ago.
Notwithstanding, we shouldn’t forget that the Keke has been very helpful to the
teeming populace in their day-to-day lives.
It is equally worthy of note that the
government has already made available Sport cars – to be called TAXIMO – that
would replace the about-to-be banned vehicles. The cars are reportedly to be leased
to interested commercial drivers on a hire purchase basis at the rate of one
million naira. According to the government, if fully implemented, the proposed
initiative would tremendously help to restore sanity within the shores of
Owerri and its environs.
I wish
to inform the government ably led by Gov. Rochas Okorocha that the notice is
too short for the concerned individuals to properly prepare themselves towards
embracing the forthcoming rainy day. On this note, I appeal on their behalf, for
the September 30 to be extended to a further date, preferably in December 2017,
to enable them be adequately equipped to face the challenges ahead.
The short quit notice might not be
unconnected with the governor’s leadership mantra that says that the Rescue
Mission Administration is ‘in a hurry to develop Imo State’. This kept me
pondering over how much in haste is the government towards bringing the said
change. However, no matter the intensity of the quest, it must take into
cognizance that if the proposed initiative is not well implemented, it would
end up causing more harm to the generality of the state than good.
No sane and rational being that does not yearn
for positive change, but it’s pertinent to understand that the way and manner
we go about it would have a great role to play in the long run. It suffices to
say that whatever that is worth doing is worth doing well. This, we must not
take for granted if truly the interest of Imolites at large is being considered
as priority.
The proposed one million naira ought
to equally be reviewed for the good of the prospective beneficiaries and the
Owerri residents in general. Let there be a downward review of the stipulated
amount, so they can pay up the debt in time and thereafter be recognized as car
owners. This no doubt would go a very long way in increasing their respective
daily earnings, thus motivating their individual selves. We need to acknowledge
that the amount to be attached to the car would affect the price per passenger
to be billed by the drivers.
Pricing is indeed a very crucial
factor required to be considered while introducing an initiative of such into a
system. In this case, the transport sector is in question. Taking Owerri as a
case study, it’s worth noting that at the moment, no tricycle rider would
charge his passengers more than fifty naira for any drop regardless of the
distance. So, any change in this as a result to the incoming initiative would
amount to unease among the concerned commuters.
The government should also ensure that
the cars are enough to replace the number of the affected tricycles. Anything
less than this would on the contrary contribute immensely in increasing
congestion within the territory, because commuters seeking for commercial
transit would overpower the available vehicles.
There is as well an inevitable need
for the prospective drivers to be placed on an intensive training. The
suggested training should inculcate, but not limited to, holistic traffic orientation,
driving workshop and day-to-day vehicle maintenance. This would help to imbibe
sound culture in them with a view to doing the needful as long as they operate
the vehicles within the roads of Owerri.
Above all, a special team ought to be
set up by the government to ensure proper sustenance of the initiative.
Overtime, lack of maintenance culture has contributed immensely in bedeviling
various laudable programmes embarked upon by governments at all levels, thus
introduction of TAXIMO into the roads of Owerri wouldn’t be an exception.
Against this backdrop, I enjoin that whatever team to be inaugurated to oversee
the sustainability of this project must comprise experienced stakeholders from
all angles including transporters, disciplinarians as well as administrators.
Imolites yearn for a project or an initiative
that would stand the test of time; a programme that would remain after many
years of gracious exit of the Rescue Mission government. This is surely the
dream of all, and not mine. Think about it!
Comrade FDN Nwaozor
Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri________________________________
Twitter: @mediambassador
http://facebook.com/TheMediaAmbassador
Sunday, 10 September 2017
ShortStory I Justice At Last
JUSTICE AT LAST
Who
could tell the actual reason the grief-stricken family had chosen to ‘abandon’
his remains? Several months had eventually come and gone, yet no one could tell
for sure where his grave would be dug. The deceased’s body that pathetically
lay in the morgue could now best be described as debris since the corpse had
been relegated to the background by the embalmer owing to lack of payment by
the supposed bereaved family.
Mr. Seun Adegoke left the sinful world
four months back. His abrupt mysterious exit was attributed to various evil
acts allegedly committed by him. He was struck by thunderstorm in the early
hours on a Sunday when he alongside his family was preparing to go to their
place of worship.
The 56-year-old Mr. Seun was till his sudden
death happily married to Titi, and the marriage was blessed with four children.
The couple could formerly boast of five children – 3 males and 2 females – not
until two years back when their first child Kelvin, 24, was brutally killed by
an auto crash; Kelvin was in his final year in a university when the ugly
incident transpired in a broad daylight while returning from the campus for a
semester break.
Before the said chap departed, series of unforeseen
deaths had occurred among the members of the Adegoke family at large. Mr.
Seun’s immediate younger brother died at 51 in his farmyard barely three months
to Kelvin’s exit. Prior to that, one of his (Seun’s) younger sisters who was
married to a business mogul equally lost her first male child via
electrocution; among others too numerous to mention. The killings were
occurring serially that anyone in the family could be the next; hence, people
within and beyond began to wonder what could be the cause of such untold and
dreaded incidence.
“Seun, my brother.” called Mr. Biodun
Adegoke as he was seated in a single leather cushion.
Mr. Biodun was Seun’s elder and only surviving
brother; his other two male siblings had passed away in cold blood. The duo
were seated in the latter’s home lounge in the late evening on a Saturday. It
was exactly the night that preceded the day Seun was murdered by thunderstorm
right in his matrimonial room. The former who lived a few meters away had
thought it wise, albeit deceitfully, to visit his younger one towards
discussing some pertinent issues bordering on their family’s ongoing crisis.
Seun sat directly adjacent to him in
another single upholstery chair. “Egwo mi.” Seun answered tenderly, fixed his
gaze on Biodun’s.
‘Egwo mi’ meaning literally my elder
brother.
“What is actually happening to our
family?” said the 64-year-old Biodun.
Seun was calm, couldn’t utter a word.
“Someone dying every minute of the
day.” Mr. Biodun rode on. “This is getting very worrisome by the day.”
“In fact,” said Seun. “I am tired
myself.”
“If you are tired,” responded Biodun.
“I am fade up.”
“Hmmm…” sighed Seun as he sat confusedly
in his seat.
It would interest, perhaps shock you to
acknowledge that prior to this moment, Mr. Biodun had already brainwashed most
members of the family, stating that Seun was the brain behind all the
misfortunes taking place in their family. The false campaign occasioned by hatred
was occurring unknowingly to the accused, and no member of the family was
convinced enough to openly level the allegation against him. Seun got to know
about it just a few days before he passed on but little did he realize that
Biodun was the sole sponsor of the campaign.
Some members of the family were at a
point apparently convinced that Seun was a ritualist because the latter was a
well-to-do trader and remained the most successful among them, though they
pondered why he would use his own son (Kelvin) – who was obviously promising –
for a ritual. The lingered scepticism was outrightly buried on the very day the
man in question died; based on their custom, it was only persons who indulged
in atrocities that could be killed by thunderstorm.
“What do we do about these atrocities
taking place right under our noses?” Mr. Biodun proceeded as he was seated in
his seat. “Or, do we wait until it becomes our turn?” He added hesitantly,
frowning.
“God forbid!” Seun exclaimed, became
more perturbed.
There was abrupt silence.
“I
think you are right.” concurred Seun. “We really need to do something about
this.” he said, paused. “And very fast.”
“Thank
God you are now reasoning with me.” Biodun appreciated.
“But,” quoth Seun. “How do we go about
it?”
“Don’t worry,” replied Mr. Biodun. “I
think I have a solution.”
“You do…?”
“Yes.”
“So…?”
“I will get back to you first thing
tomorrow morning.” responded Biodun.
It was that following morning he promised to
return to Seun’s house that the latter was struck by the thunderstorm. He
actually made it to his house at the early hours of the day as pledged, only to
meet his corpse on the tiled floor surrounded by his wife (Titi) and children
who were hit off-balance.
On that fateful day being Sunday, Mr.
Seun’s remains were deposited in a nearby morgue. Owing to the mysterious
nature that surrounded his eternal departure, everyone far and near – including
his immediate family – seemed to be convinced that he was really the brain
behind the various misfortunes that befell the Adegoke family. In view of this,
upon the directive of Mr. Biodun who was now the only surviving elderly man in
the family, the corpse was seemingly forgotten in the morgue.
Worse still, no money was further
deposited to sustain the required embalmment, thus the dead body wasn’t given
the due attention it deserved. The wife of the deceased, Titi who would have
done so was persuaded by her in-laws to stay away from the corpse until the
necessary traditional rites have been conducted. Four months had passed, yet no
one could say what the corpse’s fate entailed.
Two weeks down the line, something
terrible but revealing transpired; Mr. Biodun Adegoke was struck by
thunderstorm right in his wretched sitting room. Before he gave up the ghost,
he confessed to his wife and six children coupled with other members of the
extended family that rushed to the scene, that he was solely responsible for
all the evil occurrences in the family. According to him, he was the one who
projected the thunderstorm that killed Seun so that everyone would believe he
(Seun) was the brain behind the misfortunes as he (Biodun) had falsely alleged.
Thereafter, Mr. Biodun’s remains were
thrown to the evil forest whilst Mr. Seun’s were eventually given a befitting
burial by the family.
FDN Nwaozor
Executive
Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri_____________________________________
Twitter: @mediambassador
http://facebook.com/TheMediaAmbassador
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