…To The Abductors Of My Sisters(Chibok Girls).

In years gone by, I’ve read detective books and watched Crime scenes, depicting how wrongdoers lived their lives in horror and fear of the unexpected.

How they are startled by every little noise and movement because of the guilt that’s written all over their hearts, the guilt that they fail to surrender to but would rather cover up with more evil doings. As the days roll by, I’ve come to the realization that a person does not just become evil overnight; its in-born. Its like a sore that refuses to heal but eats deeper and deeper into the soul of its victim thereby shearing their conscience into two.

Such was my naivety because “evil” seemed so far away from me. Then it came so close to me, i could feel its hot breath down my spine; on the night of 14-15 April, you took away my sisters, from their school dormitories. Oh how your conscience has been destroyed, that you’ll take 276 girls away without the fear of being struck dead or blind by supernatural forces. How did you do it? Did you force their door down, or did you come in through the windows? Did you threaten them with death if they screamed, or did you tie their mouths? Did you drag them, gag them, bundle them…how did you do it so easily without fear and empathy? Empathy on the children, their mothers, their families, the nation, the world. Oh I know how; such a carnal act could only be done by the most wicked of all flesh, the most stony of all hearts and that is YOU!

With the tears in my eyes as i write this and the sorrow in my heart, listen very carefully- The Bible which we uphold says vengeance is God’s and indeed the Quran as well says there is no hiding place for the wicked. Yes, vengeance is very close, so close, closer than you think. Don’t get your hopes up, that you are going to go Scot-free- oh no you won’t because our prayers, our cries and our voices go high up through the skies, straight up to heaven and we know that God would vindicate my sisters, our daughters.

Why did you take them? What do you want to use them for; money, trafficking or just for pleasure. If its money, forget it- the evil that men do will live after them. If its for pleasure, you are bastards that would rot in the deepest, darkest part of hell. My sisters are crying everyday: i can feel it. Their wails, tears and agony go up to the heavens and they can never be ignored. Oh the joy of motherhood, to see that child you nurtured, preserved and prayed for finally growing up, having access to knowledge and moral values of life. Such peace in the heart of a mother when her child begins to achieve and progress in life…but you’ll never know how it feels. Yes, you’ll never know how it feels- to carry a child in the womb for nine months, to bring that child successfully into this world, to cater for and nurture that child; because you are beasts, animals, ingrates that the world is against.

Mother nature curses you. The earth repulses you. The four elements(water,wind,fire,earth) despises you. For taking sleep from our eyes and joy from our mouths, you’ll never know peace. You’ll forever languish in pain and sorrow. Upon the tears of their mothers, your hearts will drown. Sorrow would be your companion and pain at your dining table. You’ll go to sleep in fear and wake up in anguish. Peace will be a stranger to you and curses you will bear. For taking away my sisters, your counsel would be turned to nothing, your troubles would surround you- like hot coals on your heads and burning sulfur on your feet. The sun will look upon you angrily and the moon would stare at you till you freeze.

You who took away the tomorrow from the hearts of my sisters                                                                  You who bought tears to their hearts                                                                                                           You who make them quiver at the slightest sound                                                                                     You who make their mothers cry                                                                                                                 You who shattered their dreams and sent their goals to sleep for eternity…

The world may have forgotten your evil act but i haven’t and so have many other people all over the world. You may think that we are scared, how wrong you are. You are the cowards here; you take away our girls and go into hiding, only revealing yourselves through stupid videos and silly comments…who does that? You may think that you have succeed but there is no peace for the wicked.

Do you know, that there were actually three people present in my sisters room(s) on that night? The all seeing God, the omnipotent, the ever present…He was there and He witnessed that evil and He is calling you to surrender. Kidnappers!!!! Look! Feel!

Hear the sound of the footstep and see the long arms of the law looming over you like the sun covers the earth ………….

The Avenger is upon you like the waves of the Ocean smashing against the rock and there is no escape for God is a just God.

I know that no matter what you do to my sisters, God is in control and that gives me peace.

What kind of peace can an evil person have?




My Halloween Diary

Dad’s story for yesterday was amusing and very interesting…

“When we were quite young, my father bought a book for us…uhh I can’t really remember its title but I remember its two most important characters- Shanti and Claire. We all loved the book and we read it over and over again.
A few weeks later my eldest brother brought home two beautiful chickens; one of them had a bright purple patch of feathers on its back and the other had an orange toe, such beauties. We decided to keep them as pets, just as people kept dogs and cats as pets. When it came to deciding their names, it was quite difficult because everyone wanted a different name for them until my mum stepped in and saved the situation. She said “I know what I’ll call them, you with the purple patch, you’ll be shanti and you with the orange toe I’ll call claire”. Oh how we loved that idea because that was what we began to call them and they loved their names because they shook and fluttered so graciously at the sound of their name- Shanti…Claire.
We fed them so well that they grew fast and strong and we trained them to sleep in their cage at night and most especially not to litter the compound with their droppings.
Whenever you called for them; Shanti! Claire!, they responded immediately just like dogs do.
They became popular all of a sudden and everyone loved them- the kids in the neighbourhood called out to them whenever they passed by our house, the market women gave them little bits of bread and fish, the farmers gave them cocoyam and they always got a taste of the tappers palm wine. It became a habit in our house that anytime anyone came visiting, they never failed to call for Shanti and Claire. They were very dear to us, as they followed us almost everywhere: on errands, to the stream to fetch water, to the village square at night and even to church. They stayed with us for two solid years and they grew to be our companions; whenever we were down, sad, depressed, bored and happy, they were always there to share our feelings. They had become a part of us…
One evening, after coming back from the evening market, we noticed Shanti and Claire had not come out to see us, which was quite unusual of them. We went to their make-shift-home and discovered that they weren’t there- where could they have gone to?
We waited for them till the following day hoping that they had followed someone in the neighbourhood home and they would come back the following day however when we didnt see them, we raised an alarm and everyone began to search for them. We searched all over the town- streams, village square, etc but we didnt see them. We called out to them…Shanti!…Claire! but they never came running to us. Sadly, they were never found- Perhaps someone had called them, lured them with food and had taken them away…but we never failed to stand at the compound gate and peer far into the horizon hoping that they’ll one day come running to us again.


My Halloween Diary.

Yesterday it was my mum’s turn to tell a story and hers was really creepy-who am I kidding it was scary! Ha! gotcha *grins*. Okay honestly it was scary, but thats the fun of Halloween-the Scare, the Horror…and my mum’s story begins…in her own words…

“When my mother was quite young, she was a tough lady, very bold and dared anyone even boys way older than her who she knew quite well could easily beat her to pulp. She was rather too strong for her age and nobody dared challenge Janet(that’s her name) unless you wanted to go home with bruises.
One day, she was at the village centre and all of a sudden she wanted to answer Nature’s call, so she ran back home to use the toilet but on getting there, the toilet was “in use” that very moment. Seeing that the toilet was occupied and that if she decided to wait for the person, Nature might embarrass her; she decided to use one of the bushes around (don’t raise that brow, of course there were bushes around back then, oh and my Grandma is a babe. Her action is justified :p)
Whilst answering Nature’s call, she heared a voice coming from inside the bush, it was singing but she couldn’t make out the words of the song. When she was through, she decided to peep and see who it was. When she peeped, Lo and behold…
She saw The Devil, playing with his baby and was singing “my baby’s bottom papapa, my baby’s bottom papapa…”
She went cold and goose flesh appeared all over her body immediately. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, although she could swear that what she saw was real and not a dream. However, the creature didn’t see her, but that was just her first encounter…
(You’re scared right, that’s how we all felt yesterday as my mum told the story but that’s the spirit of Halloween…SCARES!)
Many years later, when she was married and was through with child bearing, with her youngest child at age 11(that’s my mum), she went to visit her mother and spent quite a long time there. Evening was fast approaching so she decide to go back home and on her way home, she looked up and saw some children playing in the middle of the road but their play was rather awkward for two reasons; children were supposed to be at home by now as it was already getting dark and the fact that they would run into the bush, run back to the middle of the road and shake their bodies in a weird way all in the name of playing. They did this repeatedly and as my mum got closer, she noticed that the children were like dwarfs and were very black, as black as coal. She was getting scared already and as she got closer to where the children were playing she could swear she heared a voice call them in a language she couldn’t understand. The children then looked up, saw her and ran into the bush. As she passed the very spot where they were playing, she suddenly became cold and a chill ran down her spine, making her develop goose flesh; They were the devil’s children!
She hurried home as fast as her legs could carry her, not even daring to look back for fear of the unexpected.
…This is really creepy but again what is Halloween without the scares and horrors.
Have fun this Halloween season and watch out for an extremely black man and his black children, they might be somewhere around the corner…who knows…
H A P P Y H A L L O W E E N.

My Halloween Diary.

I love when Halloween is around the corner because I get to see people in TV dressed up as horrors in various costume styles. I love the scary-fat-triangle-eyed-pumpkin-faced man and his “HAHAHAH”laugh filled with an amusing amount of terror.
The Halloween spirit has begun to rubb off on everyone(except for a few in Africa). Kids are getting dressed as horrors, going from door-to-door demanding candy with menaces.
I’ve never had an upclose participation in the Halloween event;technically, Halloween isn’t recognised in Africa, precisely Nigeria and that is where I come from. But that doesn’t mean I can’t bask in the Halloween spirit. This year my parents decided to observe Halloween in a rather peculiar style; by telling us true stories that had been passed from generation to generation.

DAY 1:So for yesterday’s story, my dad in his own words, told us a strange story…

“My grandfather was a very wealthy man who had lots of possessions; animals, farmlands, gold, money, etc. He had eight slaves in the house -OVADJE COURT-, eight slaves on each farmlands; altogether he had 40 slaves and still counting. His favourite however was a young girl from the Gold Coast, now Ghana called Nana Gold. Grandpa gave her the name because he found her when she was very little, during one of his trips to Ghana and he brought her home with him to be his servant but she was more like a daughter to him. Grandpa treated all his servants so well that if you ever saw them, they looked well kept and fed like kings. Nana was very hardworking and beautiful, although she was the youngest “slave-daughter” my grandfather had. Grandpa’s house had an orchid in front of it and that was Nana’s favourite hangout.
One morning, she was sweeping the front of the house, around the orchid when the most wicked beast; a lion came out from one of the bushes around, pounced on Nana and took her away…”
That was yesterday’s story in my father’s own words. Nana was taken away by a Lion and nobody could help her…did she shout, did she fight back…

At this point, I have to stop writing because my siblings and I are taking out investigations (don’t be decieved, we are arguing not investigating) into the disappearance of Nana.
I think the Lion took Nana away for another reason but not to eat her, however,
My cousin also feels that Nana must have been alive with the lion several years later as she was only 16 when it took her away…
As you’re getting into the Halloween mood, duty “operation investigation of Nana’s disappearance” calls for me.
You can join in our investigations, you’re welcome on the team. We’ll appreciate.
H A P P Y H A L L O W E E N ★

Where Words Meet

“Get out”, She yelled “I don’t ever want to set my eyes on you, you’re a disgrace,” she continued “you bring me pain and shame, I hate you, I despise you, you irritate me…I…I…

Have you ever said something(s) to someone and at the end you felt bad and wished you could take it back, or has someone ever said something to you that made you feel weak and weary. Of course, you must be in either one of the category or both. There were times when someone said some pretty or rather, extremely harsh words to me and no matter my reaction, be it positive or negative, those words had already been spoken. And try as the person might, the apologies could help ease the pain and hurt brought about by those words, but the sad part about words that spill out of our mouth is that-THEY CAN NEVER BE TAKEN BACK. Everything we give in this world can be taken back except the words that come out of our mouth.
On our planet earth, there are people with different vocal-box control buttons, just as there are cars whose engine capacity differs from each other. Just as there are those whose voice-box package comes with an easy-to-control button that there is little or no need for one to read its operational manual, so also there are those whose control button is stiff, hard and could make the fingers go numb, not forgetting that you’ll need dozens and scores of manuals to learn how to operate and control it.
Dealing with people who have the latter package could be quite difficult. They’re the kind of people I’ll refer to as “BLUNT(BUT)INCONSIDERATE”. They are the ones who’ll tell you to your face that you suck and could even exaggerate how much you suck, the ones who’ll boldly slander you in your face and say how much of a retard you are, not minding where and how much hurt the words would cause.
Such people need extra care and caution in their everyday activities with others. I’ve come to the conclusion that these kind of people, tend to elevate and give themselves “self-appraise” or let me put it this way “self wash” and they love to play the game “oh-I’m-way-smarter-than-you”, and they have the “Red Alert Boldness”. My advise to you dear is that whenever such people get too comfortable and bold around you, Get up and FLEE!
What kind of word(s) have you said to someone or has someone said to you? Trust me if you felt bad after saying hurtful words to someone you still have your conscience intact and i’ll find you way approachable than those who’ll say spiteful things and don’t act in any way concerned. How do you relate with others in your day to day affairs. No matter how much wrong a person does and no matter the gravity of fault one has, saying hurting and aggravated words only makes you more at fault than the person you are trying to reprimand. Control the words that come out of your mouth. Making others feel hurt by your words don’t make you smart, wise or blunt rather it depicts a mean, unconcerned and gory image of you.
If everyone on earth thought before they spoke, no matter the situation involved, the world would be a better place: free from hurt, pain and anger brought about by words said. A Biblical example should be that of Adam, when God asked him why he ate the forbidden fruit and Adam responded outrightly saying “is it not the woman you gave me”. I’m sure he must have felt sorry afterwards but it was too late, he had already spoken. Try watching what you say and how you talk because truth be told, the thing about words still remains “THEY CAN NEVER BE TAKEN BACK”
I composed the poem below, to show how words could go a long way, either hurting or mending.

Around the corner I have a friend
A friend so dear to the end
A friend so real even at a bend
A friend that sticks to the end

At dawn he’s there to share my joy
At noon he stays to share my pain
One whose heart is more beautiful than Helen of Troy
And has no single blot of vain

In my celebrations he comes first
And he’s there at his best
Two worlds became one
Together forever,then and now

But deciet crawled in
And mistrust caved in
Words were said
Sentences flew in and out
We least cared
What was going on about

Words that pierced
Words that shattered
Words that broke
Were the words we spoke

And even though at the end
The crack in the wall we mend
Things were never the same again
Because words had caused us pain
Things shared and said

But even with the scar
I’ll rather bend the bar
Because I have a friend so dear
One who sticks out to the End.

The world would be a better place if only we all thought before we spoke. What have you said to someone that hurt so much; even a mere joke could cause a strain and push the gap between you and that person further apart.
My Dad illustrates it this way “The world is totally unbalanced, it’s tilted. Every good and kind word we say, gives our little unbalanced world a right-side-up push to gradually balance it and every hurtful and bad word we say gives the world a wrong-side-up push, leaving mother earth totally and more unbalanced”.
Learn to use your mouth wisely; Control that which comes out of your mouth. Bless and don’t Cause. Appreciate and don’t Discriminate. Commend don’t Condem. Tell sweet words of encouragement from soul to soul. Applaud when necessary; and if there be need for correction, do it with love and understanding. For…

There’s that Friend Around the Corner
Whose joy we share without no border
But if wrong words are spilled
The joy of our friend is killed
And tho we would love him to stay
Our friend might just have to go
A price we have to pay
For making our words so cold.

The Body Begat The Name

According to Wikipedia, Success can be defined as an attainment of higher social status, the achievement of a goal… I’ll rather reckon with the latter part of this definition “…the achievement of a goal…” for now, till I give my own definition of success.
Success you’ll agree cannot be achieved without hardwork but there must be a vision at the beginning of the line. When one has a vision, for it to become a success, hardwork must be included. You don’t just wake up with a vision and all of a sudden embrace success;its a gradual process that must be backed up with hardwork. Its like a body and a name; there’s no name without a body. For instance, my mum could never have named me Stacy if there was no ‘body’, so also a name cannot be given to an organisation without the organisation(physical). That’s a perfect illustration for hardwork and success. Hardwork is the body, Success is the name. The body carries the name.
If one has vision but lacks hardwork-no matter how bright, wonderful and achievable that vision is, there is no way success can be achieved. Its a norm to have vision (haven’t seen anyone without a vision tho) however that vision must be braced with hardwork because its the bridge to success. If you don’t want to pass this bridge but still want to attain success, its impossible because the ‘truth of the matter’ is that there are no shortcuts. When that vision get implanted in you, you must plough and till its young tender soil with hardwork to finally reap success. You can’t attain success without hardwork, same as there is no perfectly working car without an engine or its source of power; but if you see any you’re free to contact me and i’ll reverse this statement; awww don’t get about hoping for Toyota or Nissan or Hyundai to come up with such an idea, nothing works without a source of power and Hardwork definitely and forever will come first before success.
A student who wrote an exam with the aim of getting an A+ but got a C, had backed up that goal with work and not ‘HARD’work. Let me lay emphasis on the kind of work you need to give that vision a successful end; you need ‘HARD’work, not just -work. Success is the name, Hardwork is the body, and the body begat the name. Until a mother gives birth to a baby that can be held,seen and felt, that is when the name becomes useful and valuable. An organisation without the individuals coming together to stand as a body, cannot have a name. Success comes after hardwork, it has never been the other way round. The likes of NELSON MANDELA, BEN CARSON, ELEANOR ROOSEVELT, OPRAH WINFREY…but to mention a few have proved to me beyond measure, that hardwork used to brace and back up your vision would definately integrate a rupture of success.
If you want to achieve your vision and not just achieving it but successfully achieving that vision, get that engine started, top it up with an extra-energy-fuelled ‘HARD’work and drive up all the way to success.
Remember, Hardwork is the body; Success is the name…
No name without a body.
For your Vision to be materialised, Hardwork first, Success next.
I said I was going to give my own definition of success- “Success is the end product of an aim, goal, ambition or vision, that has been coherently backed up by Hardwork”.