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My stem's planted firmly where I am allotted. My tail is wavy and my face is quite blotted. I relay much emotion though flatly I'm spotted, And I grow half my size whenever I'm dotted. I can speak any language, yet utter no words. I'm no seed, yet I am well known among birds. But I do have a speech impediment: I can say cage but not page, aged but not wage. I can say deaf but not red, bed but not sled. I live on a highway that's structurally sound, Where you might see my friends accidentally bound. It has many lanes, and also long lines. There are lots of sharp turns, but plenty of signs. I am played but not won, made but not spun. The key is to measure before you've begun. What am I?

(The scene unfolds in a cozy parlor. The Father sits, reading a newspaper, while his PA stands by.) Oyin, the daughter, enters, engrossed in a phone call. Oyin: (frustrated) ...because of this fuel nonsense, I couldn't make it... (listens) What?! Dollar's skyrocketed! (pauses, glancing at her dying phone) Battery's almost dead... No light for three days. (bitterly) I'm leaving this country before it kills me. She ends the call and greets her father. Father: How are you, Oyin? Oyin: (forced smile) Fine, Dad... Just fine. (Tyson, the first son, enters, receiving a call.) Tyson: (nonchalant) True man, inflation's no big deal... We'll survive. (His phone dies." Tyson: (laughs) Battery mi fe ku! Light'll come. He greets his father. Father: How are you, Tyson? Tyson: (briefly) Awesome, Dad. Perfectly great. (Noah, the last son, enters on a call." Noah: (concerned) ...Yes, her medical condition worsened due to hospital power outages... Naira's drop hi...

Overwhelmed by stressful lectures and exhausting walks, I sought refuge in the school cafeteria. That's where I met her – a stunning middle-aged woman with captivating beauty. Initially intimidated, I hesitated to approach her. But fate brought us together again that evening. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to her table. "May I join you?" I asked. She looked up, stern-faced, "I do mind, but sit if you promise not to be a nuisance." As we ate, my mind raced with assumptions: perhaps she was one of the university's tough, unapproachable women or had grown resentful due to past experiences. Determined to connect, I complimented her beauty. "Thank you," she replied, "but I can't reciprocate." Undeterred, I shared my struggles with relationships. "I don't have boy problems," she said soberly, revealing her HIV medication. My instincts screamed "run," but I realized my initial intentions were superficial. "I...

Last Thursday was unforgettable. I attended a seminar in my school, Babcock University, featuring two esteemed emeritus professors. The audience comprised of undergraduates, postgraduates, and PhD students. The professors delved into the intricacies of Karl Marx's principles, shedding light on our previously superficial understanding of Marxism. They succinctly identified the weaknesses of Nigeria's major parties, PDP and APC, and made startling predictions about the upcoming elections and Nigeria's future. Unfortunately, my course mates seemed disinterested, with some even dozing off. Perhaps the professors' in-depth analysis was too complex for them. However, I was engrossed and actively contributed to the discussion. One of the professors noticed my enthusiasm and approached me afterward. "Your insights are impressive," he said. "If you pursue your passion, you'll make a remarkable politician." His words resonated deeply. Later, a course mate ...

My first day in the new college hostel was memorable, but not for the reasons I expected. Sharing a bathroom with floor-mates was new to me, as I had just moved from Rehoboth, which was ensuite to Welch Hostel, which had shared bathrooms for the whole floor. As I showered, two muscular men approached, wearing only underpants. I felt uneasy, assuming they were gay and had ulterior motives. "What?!" I shouted, alarmed. Their silence heightened my anxiety. I thought they were sizing me up, planning something. My soap fell, but I was so scared to pick it up, I decided I was clean enough. Assuming the worst, I prepared to defend myself if necessary. The shower hose became my potential weapon.  Just as I turned off the water, one of them spoke in a deep voice, "Hey, we've been waiting for you to finish." Prepared for a fight, I realized they simply wanted to use the shower. "Guy, come out now. We need to bathe. We're getting late, and the other showers aren...

Many Africans, particularly Nigerians, are exhausted from the chaos and traumatic experiences surrounding the 2015 elections. We often emphasize the importance of voting and patriotism for national development. However, I question this approach. Being a good citizen may lead to deprivation and persecution, and you may gain nothing from it. Why suffer if not for a higher purpose? The real question is: What can we do individually to impact our environment? First, acknowledge the harsh truth: patriotism isn't always appreciated or rewarded. If you're not passionate about creating change, don't bother. Focus on influencing those around you: family, colleagues, juniors, and bosses. Showcase the joy of living with integrity and demonstrate your commitment to positive change. No guarantees, but this approach brings personal satisfaction. Consistency will eventually inspire others. When you witness one person's orientation adjust for good due to your influence, you'll feel ...

Let me open this blog on my birthday with a few predictions against next year, not as a prophet, but as a student of Political Science, Babcock University  Buhari is going to win this election, but it won't lead to significant development. Goodluck is no saint either, but a major mistake Nigeria would make is giving unchecked power to the APC. The PDP has been thoroughly challenged and would be ousted due to facing a strong opposition. If both Lagos, the nation's economic hub, and the federal government fall under APC control, who will provide the necessary checks and balances? Buhari's first regime has often been credited with progress, but this recognition is misplaced. It was his Vice, Idiagbon, who deserves the credit. If Buhari was truly a formidable force, why was it Idiagbon, and not Buhari, who was assassinated? All Buhari did was promote his fanaticism, and he may do so again. The Muslims are divided between those who partake in, and justify the attack of Christian...