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WHERE DO CRIPPLED CHILDREN GO?

“The connection between my childhood and my adulthood must not be lost. To lose that connection is to lose me.” Within every man dwells the little child who preceded him. Traditionally, children’s day has been misconstrued only as a juvenile convocation devoid of adult relevance and characterised by childish funfair. Irrespective of the side of the prism from which we look at it, we must not lose touch with the child in us. Every man is preceded by a boy and every woman is preceded by a girl. To understand the man that I have become, you need to meet the boy that I used to be. To understand the woman that I have become, you need to meet the girl that I used to be. To understand the adult that I have become, you need to meet the child that I used to be. Within every woman dwells the little child who preceded her. Adulthood is rooted in childhood. Many of the thoughts, ideologies and resolutions that we imbibe came from our early experiences as children. All the frui...
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THE BITTER TASTE OF LIBERTY

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David Diop, a Senegalese poet uses his poem entitled “ Africa ” to describe our independence as possessing a bitter taste after he chronicled our long-suffering experiences and plight through colonialism and post colonial era. Nigeria is the landmass composed of the remnant of many ancient empires and kingdoms. The nation was thus forged from the anvils of hegemonic tendencies, human diversity, conflict and history. Agitations for the independent state of Nigeria began in the early 50s by the likes of Azikwe, Awolowo and Ahmadu Bello. We got that liberty quite alright. But after fifty eight years, the question we should ask ourselves is: How does its fruit taste? Barely seven years after our embryonic conception, civil war broke out ! We went to war against each other; brother against brother in a senseless and preventable orgy of violence that was born out of immaturity and nationalistic infantilism. The war consumed more than two million souls. This despite the ref...
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FIRE IN THE BOSOM

Can carry fire in his bosom and his clothes not be burnt? This is what we desire to do every day. We want to carry fire in our bosom: the fire of sexual passion and the little flame of lusts. We are heating up our destiny, spreading it out on the furnace of strange affection. We dare the messengers of fire and subjects of flames. We fan the little fire that destroys great destinies. Joseph had the opportunity for romance and sexual relationship with Mrs Potiphar but he fled. He could have been thinking “As long as I did not have sex with her, I am okay.” He could have done all the prelude to sexual intercourse and still be feeling like a saint. He could have survived the touches, he could have survived the urges, he could have survived the romance but he would not have survived the raging fire that would have engulfed his destiny. He would have kindled a seemingly innocent fire that would have burn silently under his bosom and the little innocent fire would have engulfed hi...
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