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Sunday, 12 March 2017

Opinion I How Not To Love Imo


HOW NOT TO LOVE IMO STATE
        
The last time I checked, hundreds of thousands of Imolites claimed to be in love with Imo State, the Eastern Heartland. But when critically and closely examined, you would observe that they actually meant something contrary. Sure, anyone can put up a claim as it pleases him/her, but sticking to the true meaning of the claim is a totally different ballgame.
        
In life, there are two major phenomenon you must not take for granted; when you are truly in love, and when someone really loves you. You are bound to understand when your heart is wholly and sincerely attracted to a colleague, relative, associate, friend, or what have you. On the other hand, you are required, at all times, to be aware of when someone cares about your happiness. If you take any of these factors for granted, you may live to regret it.
        
The truth is, life is controlled or governed by a four-letter word known as ‘Love’. This is why the Holy writ stipulates that it (love) is the rudiment of every commandment provided by the Creator; because if you really love someone or vice-versa, any rule binding the relationship can easily be adhered to with ease. If you love someone with your whole heart, you can sacrifice anything whatsoever towards ensuring that he/she does not lack happiness regardless of the circumstance.
         
Same is applicable to a pet in your household. If you love your pet passionately, you can do anything to keep it alive. A society isn’t left out when discussing love; if you care about the wellbeing of a society you belong to, you would never attempt to indulge in any act that would be to the detriment of the happiness of the society in question. Let’s get it straight; if you are a citizen of any state or country, and you are of the view that you love the state, you would always do things that would contribute to the state’s uplift or welfare.
         
At the moment in Imo state – particularly in the socio-political domain – many Imolites tend to showcase a façade that they truly care about the state, unknowingly to their followers or the onlookers that they are only interested in personal aggrandizement. For instance, if the state’s governor erred or erroneously implements a policy, rather than criticizing constructively, they would prefer to display an action that would end up causing more harm to the state. If you candidly love a state, you would always think of the effect of your proposed criticism to the state before tendering it.
         
First, we need to acknowledge that there are some basic recipes that are expected to accompany any criticism. When you criticize, courtesy demands that you proffer a remedy to what is being criticized. The primary aim of every genuine criticism ought to be to correct an error or address any presumed anomaly.
        
So, if your interest truly lies on the wellbeing of the affected state, you would invariably focus on how to make amends, or the way forward, instead of constituting more troubles. When you criticize, endeavour to concentrate on the lapse, and not on the personality of the initiator of the policy/process being criticized.
         
A true lover of any state should be concerned on the uplift of the state, and not the other way round. In politics, the reverse is often the case; people claim to love their state but mean otherwise. If you are a leader of a state and the development of the jurisdiction matters much to your person, you would never be propelled to initiate actions that would yield nothing but good governance; in other words, you wouldwillingly wish to carryout projects as well as initiate policies that would see to the betterment of the state, and so does a good follower.
         
A good and genuine follower or stakeholder, as might be the case, is always interested in way forward at all cost; he is tirelessly involved in issues of general interest rather than personal; he is invariably ready to sacrifice something toward ensuring that the concerned society becomes a better place to live; he’s prepared at all times to compromise some attitudes for the sole interest of the society; above all, he always think of other members of the society in all his actions as well as concerned about what their reactions would be as regards any criticism he intends to come up with.
         
The bone of contention is that, Imo is not interested in those who claim to love her; but those who genuinely strive relentlessly to ensure that her wellbeing is not tampered, or relegated to the background. The state is only pleased with Imolites who encounter sleepless nights while thinking of how to help the government usher in sound governance, which remains the sole dream of the electorate. The ancient state is interested in seeing people who wish to ‘die’ for the good of the state.
         
To this end, it’s needless to reiterate that anyone who keenly loves his/her state of origin/residence must be involved in activities that would assist the government to succeed. Chief Rochas Okorocha is probably yet to please the majority of Imolites as the Governor of the Eastern Heartland, but it’s more imperative to note that anyone who means well for the state cannot participate in anything that would witch-hunt the Rescue Mission Administration; rather, would only be focused on how to make the said government succeed.
         
Involving yourself in actions or causes that are aimed at generating upheaval or malice among the people is obviously how not to love a state, and Imo isn’t an exception. Think about it!

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ShortStory I Unwelcome Good News (II)



UNWELCOME GOOD NEWS (II)
       “This is serious.” Dan lamented as they watched the lady depart.
       “Really serious.” Chidi concurred.
       “So, we are still coming back here on Monday?” quoth Dan, looking at Chidi. “We are not even sure if it would hold on that day.”
      “My brother, I am tired.” Chidi lamented. “I mean, very exhausted.”
       As they observed others take their leave in tattered moods, they walked to a closest corner and sat on the pavement of a façade, respectively supporting the crude seats with the paper files in their hands that contained the required credentials for the anticipated job. “My brother,” Dan called. “Job-hunting has really eaten me up.” He confessed.
       “I thought I was the oldest in this line until I met you.” Chidi revealed.
       “How long have you been searching?”
       “Eight years now.”
       “Hmm..” Dan sighed. “You are still far behind me.” He observed.
       “Yes I am,” Chidi agreed. “Ten years of job-hunting is enough reason for one to give up all hopes.”
       “My brother, not just ten.” Dan directed. “Ten years and some months.”
       “Wait a minute,” said Chidi. “Is it ten years after graduation, or NYSC?”
       “Which graduation?” Dan ranted. “NYSC of course.”
       “You don’t mean it.” quoth Chidi, dumbfounded. “If it is after NYSC, that means mine is even seven years, not eight.” he corrected, paused. “I finished my NYSC February 2007.” He supplemented.
       “I finished October 2003.” The 35-year-old Dan informed.
        The 33-year-old Chidi looked at him in silent awe. “This is really serious!” He exclaimed.
        “You can say that again.”
        “Bros, how have you been coping?”
        “Menial jobs of course.” Dan answered. “I relocated to this town three years ago after many years of frustration in Calabar.”
         Chidi shook his head. “Where did you finish?”
       “UniCal.” Dan replied, referring to the revered University of Calabar in Cross River State.
       “Discipline?”
       “BF.” He responded, meaning literally ‘Banking and Finance’.
        Chidi shook his head again.
        “And you?”
        “Auchi Poly.” Chidi replied.
        “Course?”
        “EE.”
         That’s the popular acronym for Electrical Engineering, thus didn’t require an exegesis.
        “Hmm…” Dan sighed, shaking his seeming big skull. “When did you come to Awka?”
       “Four years ago,” quoth Chidi. “2010.” He added.
        Two minutes later, a young man who appeared to be in his early forties walked out from one of the offices. “Please gentlemen,” he told Chidi and Dan. “You have to leave this place.” He notified. “You are not permitted to sit like this.”
        “We came for the interview but it has been postponed.” Chidi said.
       “I know.” The man responded. “But we don’t allow people to sit this way, not even our staff.”
       “Okay sir.” Dan replied, stood up alongside his file. “Thank you.”
        Chidi hastily followed suit. “We have heard you, sir.” He supplemented.
       “You are welcome.” the man said, turned and took his leave.
         Some minutes on, the two departed for their respective residences having exchanged contacts.
         When Chidi got home at about 2:40pm, he felt like fisting himself to stupor. He kept wondering what was actually happening to him. His miserable life, according to him, had gotten to a point when he had to travel to his ancestral home in Abia State to ask some certain questions regarding his lineage. He sat on his foam while still in his suit, and stood up. He repeated the action subconsciously for the umpteenth time till he became very saturated. He dished the jollof rice left in his pot to see if he could take some bites, but the appetite was far away. He sat, fixed his eyes on the well oiled half-plate rice positioned right before him. Some seconds later, he summoned courage and began to devour the meal. He was eating not because he felt hungry, but just to ensure that something was taken into his bowel for the day towards avoiding further crises.
       Three days on, the awaited Monday came calling. He dressed properly, as usual, and headed for the manufacturing company for the long awaited interview. When he got there, at 8:00am, everywhere was already flooded with the invited applicants. The current number seemed greater than what was recorded the previous week.
        He looked around to see if he could see Dan, to no avail. He called him on phone. Initially the calls weren’t reachable, but when the call eventually went through, Dan told him that he was no longer interested in the job, stating he wasn’t sure if the firm really wanted to recruit some persons.
       At exactly 10:05am, the job interview commenced to the utmost amazement of the guests; they were earlier of the view that there would be another postponement, probably till further notice. In thirty minutes time, Mr. Chidi Okafor was ushered in. He was therein interviewed successfully by a 5-man panel.            
        After all the applicants present were through with the oral section, a written aptitude test that lasted for barely twenty minutes was conducted among them. At about 2:25pm, all had been said and done as planned. They were asked to return to their various homes and wait for further notification.
       As Chidi was returning devastatingly, he was of the opinion that the interview was just a mere waste of time. According to him, if there was any hope, at least, he would have received a tip of an iceberg from the panel of interviewers.
       On his way as he walked toward the bus-stop where he was meant to board a cab that would take him to his destination, there was a scene where a group of people were crowded. It seemed two able-bodied young men who had a misunderstanding created the scene. The moment he got closer, he noticed a wallet placed in the back pocket of one of the spectators. He stylishly went nearer, surreptitiously grabbed the wallet and hurriedly took his leave.
        The victim immediately felt the anomaly, turned, sighted Chidi, and quickly raised an alarm. The latter began to run but his swift was like that of an amateur. Before he could run for about hundred metres, the crowd was already on him. He started begging, saying it was the first time he would indulge in pick-pocketing, but his plea fell on deaf ears. Within a few seconds, he was lynched by the mob, and his burnt carcass was left on the roadside to be enjoyed by vultures.
        Before he was killed, his cell phone was taken away from him by a member of the mob. The following day, a message came to the phone informing Chidi that he had been gainfully employed by the manufacturing firm. According to the SMS, he was instructed to resume work in two days time being Thursday 3rd of April 2014.

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ShortStory I Unwelcome Good News (I)



UNWELCOME GOOD NEWS
      As Chidi lay in his foam at his humble abode situated in Awka, the Capital Territory of Anambra State, he couldn’t wait till daybreak. He kept rolling from one end of the outdated foam to another as sleep ceased to come at that ungodly hour of the night. All he was focused on was the job interview that lay ahead of him, which was scheduled to take place at 9.00am the following day being Friday 28th March 2014. As he rolled and rolled on the foam, he stylishly glanced at the well-ironed black suit he was to wear on the D-day as it hung by the wall sited directly opposite the foam. He quickly returned his seeming vigilant sight to the pathetically-looking multiple-coloured carpet spread on the room’s floor, felt like shortening the remaining five hours he was supposed to spend on the archaic foam but all the wishes were obviously to no avail.
       Mr. Chidi Okafor who graduated from Federal Polytechnic Auchi, Edo State, Nigeria over eight years back, precisely in November 2005, had earnestly been job-hunting ever since he concluded his National Youth Service programme a year after his graduation, but it seemed his best was not good enough in spite of the fact that he finished with Upper-Credit in Electrical Engineering. Since four years back he relocated to Awka from Benin-City, he had almost toured round the city on foot in the name of searching for a white-collar job that was apparently not forthcoming.
        However, he couldn’t despair as he had vowed to remain resolute and resilient regardless of the circumstance. All he depended on was the menial jobs he had been into right from his school days. As one who hailed from a poor parental background, while in the Polytechnic, he catered for almost sixty per cent (60%) of his needs yet was able to graduate with promising grade.
       “How long would I wait for the day to break?” he thought amid the restlessness, fumbled his weary pillow. “Please, I can’t wait any longer.” He added as the wall clock in the room read 11.56pm.
       He got the notice of the interview the previous day, and since he received the information via Short Message Service (SMS) he hadn’t rested emotionally, thinking that would mark the end of his job-hunting era, not minding that he had been invited for such occasion for the umpteenth time yet nothing fruitful was recorded.
       In the last interview he participated, he was asked to undergo a certain professional programme that could cost over half a million naira, before he would be eligible to be employed by the firm; each time he recalled the experience, he kept pondering over what the country was turning into. According to him, if HND/B.Sc wasn’t enough to secure an employment for the bearer, then it was needless to delve into the four-walls of a higher institution in the first place let alone spending about four to five years therein, as the case may be. Nevertheless, he wasn’t deterred by the lingered challenges surrounding the seeming endless odyssey.
       Indeed, there was still a longtime to cover prior to the awaited daybreak. The electric bulb hung on the old ceiling was on, thus its brightness enabled him to see each of the few items in the small room as sleep frankly refused to visit his eyes. He calmly stood up, took his time to walk round the room, taking note of each of the wears he was to use for the interview. He went to the black plain shoes positioned on the floor directly below the hung suit and plain trousers, raised and re-dusted them with a very clean rag kept beside where he stood. He looked at the clock once again – it was 12:15am. He sighed as the night appeared to have already taken over twelve hours, went back to the foam, and grabbed the pillow while keeping his eyes closed. In few minutes time, he was eventually caught by the sleep that was earlier not forthcoming.
       Five hours on – at exactly 5.00am – he was awake as if he was working with an alarm. He rose, went for his towel, soap and sponge, and dashed outside to have his bath. It was a public yard, so someone was already in the bathroom, thus he had to queue up and await his turn.
       “Who is there?” he shouted after fifteen minutes of wait. “Please, do quickly.”
        “Abeg, wait joor.” A lady’s voice replied from the bathroom. “Did you rent this bathroom?’ she rudely added.
        He was quiet, couldn’t utter a word towards avoiding further delay. He had planned to be at the company’s premises latest by 7.00am about two hours before the scheduled time.
        After all said and done, at exactly 7.10am, he found himself at the firm’s premises.
       “Good morning, sir!” He greeted the gateman, standing.
       “Morning, my brother.” The gateman responded cheerily. “Are you for the interview too?”
       “Yes sir.”
       “Okay, go inside.”
       “Thank you.”
        When he walked in, he noticed an applicant was already there before him. He wondered when the young man left home. “Good morning.” He greeted as he stood next to him.
       “Morning brother.” The colleague responded. “Are you for the interview?”
         Both were well-dressed in their black suits.
        “Yes.” Chidi said. “Are you?”
        “Yea.” quoth the applicant, stretching out his arm for a handshake. “I am Dan.” He introduced.
        “Chidi.” He succinctly said as he reciprocated the gesture. “You really came so early.” He added.
        “Yes I did.” quoth Dan. “I have been in this train for ten years now.”
          He was actually referring to how desperate he was to secure a job.
        “Which train?” Chidi naively inquired.
        “Job-hunting of course.”
        “Are you serious?” Chidi exclaimed, astonished.
         Dan nodded.
         Prior to this time, Chidi thought he was the oldest member of the ‘Job-hunting People’s Association’, not knowing that many had subscribed their membership years before he joined.
        9.00am – the time for the interview – came calling, yet there was no sign of commencement. Two hours later being 11.00am, the littered applicants of about a hundred and fifty individuals were still earnestly waiting for the commencement yet no iota of sign was perceived let alone seen.
       “Are you sure this interview will still take place?” Chidi anxiously asked Dan who was still standing very close to him as they continued to converse about life amidst the hardship. 
       “My brother, I am tired ooh.” quoth Dan. “I don’t just know what is really going on.” He lamented, paused. “No staff has come to address or even welcome us.”
       Within a twinkle of an eye at about 11.16am, a female staff eventually surfaced from the company’s building and stood in front of the crowd. “Sorry, for keeping you waiting.” she said. “I am here to inform you that the interview has been shifted to next week Monday being 31st March 2014, by same time.”
        The teeming applicants watched with utmost surprise, dumbfounded.
       “Thank you!” she concluded, quickly turned and walked towards her office.
        What transpired afterwards ought to be a narration for another day, so stay tuned.

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