The very fires emblazed
By leaders who turn rulers after elections!
The very men we trust with our commonwealth.
The very ones who lead us in arms way by their words and the words they say not but live!

The monopolists of Education, the tree of enlightenment and all riches.
The Capitalists,daily cashing out thanks to the poverty we are lured into.
By the humane servants during election periods reeling out achievements of their past office which we see not and making promises -unrealisable prophecies, of their achievements in their next office.

The very ones who promise us electricity and the only lights we get are gas-flares,the blazes of bomb blasts and the lights of the ammunition of the unknown gunmen and herdsmen.
The ones who promise to take us out of poverty
But reduce the jobs in circulation.
They promise to raise the value of our Naira against the dollar but for four years we experience draconian economic mis-planning.
We were promised a society with freedom of religion; instead we hear that the Presidential chapel was shut down and to do the explaining away;is none other than our Pastor-Prof.
We anticipate the Standard education you promised while our universities went on yet another strike and more is looming.
We anticipate justice while injustice was successfully plotted against the Chief Justice!
We anticipate the corruption-free country the Corruption Fighter-General spoke about, while
Whistles were blown against a Governor demanding kickbacks from contracts; and to give us an update on the issue is our commander in chief,the slayer of the unjust,the defender of the tribes and the fighter of corruption. Now we hear is that the Governor has been reelected.
We anticipate the refineries Pastor-Prof prophesied,our amens louder all the way up to the heavens like it was a divine promise.

How Long shall we continue like this?
Like the tropical Sun of Africa is not enough hurt to our black-burnt skin,Hell now has an annex in our country!
How long will I endure this heat and treat my burns only to be discharged back into the fire?
And in the midst of the ruins our “Ogas at the top” have safely kept their children in the lands of snow,grooming them to grow into their shoes.
The rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer,the trans-generational financial boundary.
How long shall we die in their wars?
The battle of the Umbrella and the Broom,
The battle of either against the “End of the year parties”
Our forebears mercilessly roasted for the vultures to feed on
We are on the verge of a national extinction
The race is to save the next generation
– our children and they after…
How long shall I say God bless the giant of Africa and laugh bitterly at the paucity of a prayer turned wish!

-The AdeDamola.

On a lighter note, any young man who attempts to “collabo” with this grandmother must be ready to buy the coffin or accompany her to the mortuary!
Mama Igboore won’t try the latest “bedmitton” styles but the depraved young man is likely to drag the old lady to the erotic lane of magnetic coitus which has the centrifugal tendency to trigger an explosive mechanism in her inner membrane.

Mama was hungry and ready to go to any length to feed herself and children. That’s the ugly reality in many Nigerian homes. It is not a scene from Nollywood film.

As the Uncle Dele Giwa once said, “Poverty is only good in sermons but very bad in practice.”
Poverty as the hydra-headed monster is the first recognised enemy of humanity. Poverty degrades human dignity beyond explanation. Poverty is a curse! Poverty is not sweet.

Don Jazzy, Nigerian musician dropped N100,000 for the old woman and many concerned Nigerians also assisted with cash and several food items.
Mama Igboore won’t go into the oldest profession in the world with “Arugbo Ara” any longer.
Somebody just told me that another N150,000 shall be delivered to the old woman any moment from now.

In a nutshell, Mama Igboore is “loaded” right now and she appreciated all the concerned Nigerians who donated money and food items as seen in recent videos.
That’s the power of social media. THANK YOU, NIGERIANS.

I hope Mama Igboore would also be kind, magnanimous and generous to touch the less-privileged people in her community with the ‘excess’ funds and food items donated.

It is her choice to engrave her name in gold in many hearts as she is now at the tail end of her life.
As an orphan, I pray for her longevity in good health, wealth, wisdom and strong body.

On a personal level, I have also reached out to selected Facebook friends despite being a self-funding university student who works part-time with limited hours of sleep. I have received many financial requests but I cannot help everybody on Facebook if not, I may go into debt!. I also need HELP. No shame to say it openly! I am a realist 2 4 7. I hate any fake lifestyle. Yes. Only God can judge me and refund all the money spent on total strangers on social media. My bank card suffered during the online money transfer in the last 2 weeks! Oore niwon, Eniyan sooro. I need to apply common sense!

We shall pull through this COVID-19 pandemic and re-organise many things to create a better world.

These “internal” colonialists intentionally neglected the health sector for many decades because they can easily fly to Europe, America, and UAE to treat ordinary stomach ache.

This COVID-19 era has just exposed the ineptitude, stupidity, insanity, and wickedness of Nigerian politicians in power since 1960. We are all in this mess together.

We hope all the donated billions to checkmate this COVID-19 pandemic in Nigeria won’t end up in private bank accounts.
We may need to invoke the spirits of our ancestors to afflict anybody trying to steal COVID-19 pandemic donations with an incurable malady. NO MERCY! NO LONG STORY!

Fellow Nigerians, this is the right time to start challenging our politicians to provide basic amenities and not just wait until election time to share money, mobile phone recharge cards, and food items. Enough is enough. That’s the REVOLUTION!

*Dare Lasisi, former Commonwealth Journalist writes from the UK University of the year, University of Strathclyde, Faculty of Science, Department of Computer & Information Sciences, Glasgow, Scotland, United Kingdom.

Corona virus! You’re the ultimate game changer
Social distancing? Family reunion? Personal hygiene? Sneezing with caution?
You locked down all business and religious centres worldwide!

COPID(4)19, another global scam or wake-up call?
Pricking human conscience with a sword
Tethering on the edge of extinction
Armageddon? Apocalypse? Rapture?

Scoundrels! Scumbags! Psychotic cretins!
Panic buyers of essential commodities!
Hang your coconut heads in shame!
Your greed is a coded insanity

Corona virus! Your days are numbered!
Crawl back to Lucifer’s enclave
Enough is enough! You this nasty plague!
Vanish from this troubled earth NOW!

*I hate poetry! Poetry tortures my brain. Poetry sucks with my pen! I am always in “deep romance” with prose. @ Dare Lasisi.

It appeared I was in the state of critical hypnotism, I could imagine spirits escaping from his rotund forehead, radiating the aura of discomfort. Cold shiver suddenly traveled down my spine.

As if in a trance, the man removed an iPod gadget from his back pocket to listen to his favourite songs.

He smartly moved to dance away from my side. I instantly heaved a sigh of relief as if out of bondage. I rushed my food and traced him to a nearby supermarket. I saw him at the milk section and I tried to approach him, but I blinked as if smoke dulled my both eyes and before I could utter a word, he vanished into the thin air. I came out of the shop with a sense of defeat to meet another scantily clad angelic daughter of Eve. She was a mixed breed teenager from her look. She smiled at me as if we were childhood friends. As she opened her set of sparkling white teeth, I noticed a tiny pin at the centre of her tongue. She also tattooed a scorpion on her left breast. My instinct told me she was a ghost made of water, a mermaid in human skin. I could not muster the courage to ask her probing questions. She noticed I was really interested in making her, my new friend.

This lady quickly dropped a piece of paper on the floor as she was running to catch the train. I picked the paper up with excitement strolling down my heart. I read her barely legible handwriting of her contact address. It was a place in Edmonton Green and near the popular North London cemetery. I was thinking of tracing her the next day and not really worried about the aftermath effect.

As I walked down my lonely street, two brownish foxes crossed my path. I tried to scare them away with a big stone. These hungry beasts ran away and later reappeared as I inserted the key into my front door. I promptly moved back to avoid any attack and suddenly, they escaped from my sight. The foxes actually came for the garbage bins.

When I finally entered my bedroom, I was in a total state of confusion, unable to explain the scene to anybody. I was agonizing in silence. I kept a sealed lip throughout the night. I could not sleep as I was so afraid of her expected torture in my dream. I watched my newly-bought plasma television until 2.30am to avoid being ferried away into the dreamland. My mind advised me to trace her given address in north London. But another mind cautioned me to let the sleeping dog lie. To sleep or to remain awake throughout the night? I was in a dilemma.

A few days after my encounter with this strange beautiful lady. I picked up my phone to call her number. She was so delighted to hear from me once again. We discussed briefly on the phone and later decided to meet again in north London.

On one fateful Wednesday. We met in front of the post office. She hugged me so tightly as if to crush my bones. She then held my right hand and took me to her apartment as we walked through a footpath littered with dog poo, broken bottles, and beer cans. I endured the stench emanating from the forest.

She was staying alone in a one-bedroom flat. From her breast pocket, she extracted a bunch of keys to open the front wooden door. I noticed a white cat in her living room. I was so fascinated with the unique designs of decorations hanging on her wall. She must have spent a fortune to acquire such exotic decorations. She asked for my choice of food and I politely requested for bread and tea only. The lady insisted that I must eat a solid meal. Then I agreed with her and asked for any solid food available.

From my observation, she was a good cook in the same class as my late sweet mother. She set the table and we started to eat semolina plus fresh fish stew but I noticed one imaginary hand eating with us. I could not ask her until this strange hand stole the fish head portion assigned to me to eat.

A few minutes later, I saw the vanished fish head in her mouth. She was chewing it with all her energy. I told her of my love for fish head right from my primary school days and we both laughed.

She told me she grew up in south-eastern Nigeria with her Nigerian mother while her English father from Kent divorced her mother when she was just a toddler. She later returned to England at the age of 23. She could speak some words in Igbo language but very fluent in broken English.

I was gobsmacked and could not continue my eating. I asked for the toilet. When I finally got inside the toilet near the front door. I vomited all the food with anger and flushed it. She heard the sound of the water.

The lady knocked at the toilet door to ask about my welfare.

“Are you alright at all? Any problem with you? Can I call the ambulance for you?” She said.

I gasped for breath as I tried to respond to her words with all my energy. I knew I was in a deep mess for visiting this mysterious lady.

“I am okay but my stomach just reacted to the semolina. No problem my dear sister.” I feigned my calmness.

When I returned to the living room. She offered me a glass of wine which I declined. I told her to get me orange juice or just a glass of clean water. She carried out my requests.

She tried to make eye contact with me and started to ask me several questions as if in a job interview.

“What really happened to you in the toilet? I knew you wasted and threw up all my food. Maybe my food is not delicious enough for you?”

I mustered the courage to speak out my mind as I was secretly planning how to escape from her temporary bondage in north London.

“I cannot say your food was tasteless. I just don’t like eating outside my house. I am okay now. Let us change the topic please.”

“Tell me the truth. Don’t be afraid to speak out your mind.” She pestered me further to say something.

To hide my feelings about the vanished fish head. I tried to crack some jokes with her.

“I really enjoyed the fish head but you also ate part of it without my consent. Even your whole body and spirit enjoyed the fish.”

“How do you mean? My spirit or what?” She asked me as if to slap me in the face.

As I was discussing with her. I was hearing strange voices from her bedroom. As if some people were speaking gibberish words. It sounded as if they were knocking their heads on the wooden walls.

When I asked her. She lied to me that she was only playing music in her bedroom and she cannot take me into her bedroom until she could trust me.

When the noise continued, I asked again and she blamed her Indian neighbour’s children. After all, these sensitive questions and she could not give me reasonable answers. I maintained my sealed lip.

“Oh, lest I forget. I don’t even know your name. I told you my name as Ade when we first met in east London last time.”

“Okay, call me Stella or just Estee as my friends often call me. Don’t bother about my last name.”

She gazed at me with seductive eyes and it appeared an electric shock forcefully traveled through my veins. I tried my best to resist the temptation. My eyes started seeing her double images in different beautiful forms. Maybe her divided images were the confused state of my mind or just odd illusions.

She first appeared inside her kitchen and moment later, sitting next to me and started playing with my phone. I could not say anything. I was just looking like a day old baby. I called out her name as if in danger to come and rescue me.

“Estee! Where are you? I need to go back to my east London house.”

“I am here with you. Please open your third eye properly, Ade. You’ll see me clearly.” I could no longer endure Stella’s torment. Time to escape.

Stella noticed my terrified body language but we both pretended as if nothing happened. My phone rang and as I picked the call, her own phone also buzzed and she quickly disappeared into her bedroom to answer the call.

It was my flatmate who called me to ask about my location. I told him I was with a new friend in north London and I would tell him details at home.

I tiptoed next to the bedroom door to listen to the telephone conversation with her caller. Stella spoke some coded words which I was unable to decipher. She then continued in clear words.

“You know in my first world. I was admonished by the gods not to marry any tall man from my mother’s country of origin. I have one Nigerian man in my living room right now. It appears I am deeply in love with him. Should I reveal my true identity to him? Tell me the next steps now.”

The unknown caller responded to her: “Wait for the next three days and I would tell you what to do”

As I listened to those chilling words. I retraced my steps back to the living room in readiness to escape from Stella’s bondage. I did not know the true identity of her caller but I guessed it was somebody well known to her.

Stella came out of her bedroom to apologize for keeping me waiting in the living room for over an hour. I checked my wrist-watch and it was exactly 11.25 pm. I had just less than twenty minutes to catch the last train to east London.

“I am really sorry. It was an urgent call from my cousin living in Scotland.”

“I need to go now. So glad to visit you today.”

“Going to where?” Why not sleepover and go tomorrow morning?”

“Maybe next time. I must be at work latest by 7.30 am tomorrow.”

I knew Stella wanted me to sleep with her in the bedroom but one imaginary person momentarily whispered to my right ear to resist any temptation to sleep till the next day. My stressed body was ready to sleep but my heart instantly knocked out the plan without any reservation.

She decided to let me go and as I was about to exit his flat. I requested for a can of Coca-Cola drink.

“Can I have a chilled can of Coke from your fridge? I would like to drink it while inside the train.”

She handed two cold cans to me. I smartly kept them in the pocket of my winter jacket.

Stella gradually moved closer to grab me to her chest and passionately kissed me.

I could not resist the urge to kiss her with all my mouth. The kiss lasted for a few minutes.

“See you next week, Stella. Thanks for everything.” I waved my final goodbye to her.

I could read the disappointment on her face as I departed from the flat.

I ran to the nearest train station in order not to miss the last train to east London. I suddenly hit my left foot at a stone but the impact was not too painful for me. I continued with my journey to the station.

I was extremely lucky to reach the platform when the last train was about to move. I quickly jumped inside the train. I drank one can inside the train because I was so thirsty. It was so refreshing for my throat.

I got to my flat at exactly 12.24 am. I looked around for marauding foxes before opening my front door. I gently opened my fridge to warm my leftover fried rice in the microwave oven. I ate my dinner and quickly jumped to bed to sleep. I was just too tired to take my regular night bath.

Stella appeared in my dream. I found myself holding hands with her in an open field on one sunny afternoon. We both strolled down to the edge of the field to discover a river. We saw some fishermen on canoes while some teenagers were also swimming on the other side of the river.

“Can you swim?” She asked me.

“I cannot swim. I wish to learn how to swim like a fish one day?” I responded.

“I cannot teach you today but I love to swim right now.”

“You must be joking! We are not here to swim! We are for heart-to-heart discussion as young lovers.”

“Please, let me just feel the water for a few minutes. Let me swim! Water is a therapy for my body.”

“If that’s your choice, then go ahead. I wish you the best of luck inside the river.”

“Excuse me! Let me go to that corner to quickly change to my swimming suits.”

She emerged a few minutes later, fully dressed in bikinis, to hand over her clothes to me.

As if remotely controlled by unseen spirits, Stella dived into the river before my very eyes and moment later, I saw her struggling to float. That was my first time seeing her swimming. It was like a suicide mission.

I was tempted to rescue her as a non-swimmer but I promptly restricted myself. I alerted the fishermen and regular swimmers in the area to save her from drowning.

It was rather too late. Stella had sunk deeper into the belly of the river. I started to weep like a baby. I screamed her name many times as if to call her back to life.

My alarm rang to interrupt the nightmare. It was a big relief when I woke up. I checked my wall clock, it was exactly 6.10 a.m. I felt so bad. I could not understand the dream of seeing Stella drowning in the river while all efforts to save her proved abortive. I went to the bathroom for my shower to prepare for work. I put on my brown suit for work. I ate my favourite breakfast cereals.

I decided I would call Stella from work in central London to tell her about this riverside nightmare.

During my lunch hour, I called her mobile phone many times. No response! I sent text messages. No response. I knew something was definitely wrong somewhere. That was quite unusual for Stella to ignore all my calls and text messages.

When I finished work at around 5.30 pm, I decided to check Stella at home since she was not responding to all my phone calls and text messages. I got to her doorstep in north London at about 6.54 pm. I knocked at her front door many times. No response. I called her phone once again, my call instantly went to a voicemail because her phone was switched off.

I stood in front of her flat as if stranded for more than one hour and one old white lady whom I suspected to be her neighbour came down to break the sad news to me.

“I am sure you’re looking for Stella?”

“Yes! I called her phone many times today but no response!”

“I am sorry, I have tragic news for you. Stella committed suicide early this morning. She left no suicide note but some anti-depressant tablets were found inside her bedroom. Police and ambulance came for her corpse today.”

Tears quickly navigated down my cheeks. I could not control myself anymore. As if the whole world collapsed on my forehead. But why Stella? Did she die of an overdose of anti-depressant drugs?

“Suicide or what? This is just a bad dream! Please, wake me up! Why must you die now, Stella?”

This neighbour left me alone to mourn Stella. I returned to my flat with a broken heart to weep all night for the tragic transition of my dear friend aged 23. I remembered my last night’s dream when Stella drowned in the river as fishermen struggled to save her. Was she saying her final goodbye to me in that dream? I was unable to crack these nightmare codes.

Our friendship lasted for less than three months. I was denied the golden opportunity of laying a wreath on her tombstone. I later gathered that her body was cremated and ashes scattered on River Thames. No funeral service for her.

The mystery of Stella’s death is neatly wrapped in the womb of tomorrow. No funeral service for her. Stella unceremoniously returned to the Supreme Commander of the whole Universe.

Peace, peace and perfect peace for Stella, the haunted lady. You’re forever alive in my heart.

I am deeply sorry for writing this open letter since you appeared in my dream last night where you strongly warned me not to expose some of the secrets you told me about your troubled childhood during our brief relationship.

The first time I saw you at Ikeja Under Bridge bus stop in Lagos, a shock travelled down my spine as if hypnotised by unseen gods. It was love at first sight for me. I was totally carried away by your beauty and shape. As if recovering from a remotely-controlled trance, unable to even speak to you until I pulled myself up as a man.

Maybe by accident of history or just a mere coincidence, we both alighted at Iyana Ipaja bus stop from the Molue bus. I was living at Egbeda-Akowonjo that time and you told me you’re living around Ayobo estate.

I was a fresh but jobless graduate when we met, I did not hide this fact from you. I love you so much then despite my empty pocket. I tried to kiss you once when your love suddenly electrified my whole body system but you cautioned me to relax my mind because all eyes were on you then.
I endured the sadness and regret of not kissing you that first time.

Mopelola, I know you love me, the reason why you advised me not to marry you because your members from the spiritual world won’t allow you to carry my baby.
I wept like a frustrated baby on the day you confessed to me. I can never forget such a sad day until I kiss the dust. My anger boiled like a surging wave against the restive bank of a deserted river.

I attended the University of Ilorin but you attended Lagos State University. I remembered when I visited your Ojoo campus and you dragged me into the forest at the back of your campus for a dialogue which later turned into a monologue.

Mopelola, you vanished for some minutes while in the forest with you. I could only hear your voice but unable to see you.
You later told me you just stepped aside to answer the call of nature in the bush. I accepted your explanation based on trust.

I am not on social media to betray your trust, I still respect you and hope to meet you again in Lagos. I will always cherish the little time we spent together in the 1990s.

Mopelola, you told me you’ll never marry and I was so worried about your future. You used your mouth to confess that your maternal grandmother initiated you to join the spiritual society.

You told me many secrets which I cannot reveal on social media. I am sure you’ll appear in my dream once again over this open letter. I am not writing this letter to hurt your feeling.

Let me assure you today, I will never betray you on social media. You’re still my friend, sister and my first ‘official’ girlfriend. Signed, sealed, confirmed and delivered.

Mopelola, I won’t ask about your marital life since you told me your members won’t allow you to be pregnant for any man. I thought you’re joking with me then until you showed me some proofs.
I was ready to take a bloody risk with you, to marry you ‘by fire, by force’, then wait for your ghost members from the spiritual world to suck pregnancy from your belly.

To be fair to you, I had a nightmare during our brief relationship and your ‘beautiful’ members appeared in my dream, three of them met me while walking along my street and one of them with a long neck exploded like a bomb :

“Leave our precious member alone now, she can never marry you except you wish to die young!”

I took this threat as a serious matter.

Mopelola, I am now waxing stronger every minute with my pen. I am now living in the United Kingdom, you’re free to call it as a self-imposed exile, away from my country of birth.

You predicted this moment during my relationship with you. I also composed many love poems to serenade you out of this planet.

Permit me to recollect those seductive lines…

“Love is a delicate flower and a gentle touch can easily bruise it. I am guilty as charged for loving you with your imperfections, I wish to be sentenced to life imprisonment in the garden of your love. To be in love is to be in bondage, let me be in your captivity till the end of time.”

Mopelola, I love you but unfortunately, I can never marry you. We both separated on mutual agreement. I can still trace your father’s house in Lagos but not sure anybody would recognise me again after almost 20 years.

My beloved Mopelola, I will end this open letter here because going further may force me to let the cat out of the bag.

Permit me to quote the foremost Lebanese-American writer, Khalil Gibran, who once said, “If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.”

I wish you all the best in life and if you’ve joined your spiritual members on the other side, I hope you can now be allowed to marry any man of your choice with peace of mind.

My dear Mopelola, be my guide, protect me against the evil eyes and pull down barriers for me this year and always.

Thanks for reading my long story.

With LOVE From Your Ex-Boyfriend,

Jagunmolu ‘Dare Lasisi.

Acting VC, University of Sambisa
Sebiotimo of Edinburgh
Aribidesi of Glasgow
Awolumate of Scotland
Seriki OniKaramo of the Cyberworld
Bobby Fischer of Creative writers in Nigeria
Egunmogaji of Nigerian Bloggers
Arikuyeri of East London
Agbako Baba Shomoye of Egbaland
Baba Alaanu of Facebook
Science Ambassador, University of Strathclyde
Alujonu Onkowe of Yoruba land
Parakoyi of Northern Ireland.

As a canal to ivory tower

Citadel of insatiable libido

Wrong people in many right places

Drag me to the cold room for tutorials

Where nobody hears my moaning

As you penetrate my genitalia

Releasing the natural milk of life with ease

To irrigate my inner membrane

Kissing me to reach orgasm

As you massage me against my consent

And filthy phallus vibrates my ‘main campus’

Sexual predators without barriers

Thinking with a third leg instead of brain

How dare you to violate my body and soul!

You’re a killer of many dreams and great ideas!

A shameless beast in human skin

You’re a disgrace to the academia

Your cup overflows with immoralities

Repent today to avoid God’s wrath

*Credit : Dare Lasisi.

Pupils in four schools in Auyo Local Government Area of Jigawa State have been forced to say at home. No thanks to days of incessant rainfalls, which have submerged roads leading to the four schools.

The Education Secretary in the area, Alhaji Ibrahim Dauda, said the schools are Unik-Babba Junior Secondary School, Unik-Gana Primary School, Afarmo Secondary School and Guyu Primary school.

The official said the situation was compounded by high water level in Kafin-Hausa River flowing into the affected areas.

“The access roads leading to schools in Guyu and Afarmo have been submerged by the flood; you can only access them using a boat.

“But in the case of Unik-Babba and Unik-Gana schools, apart from the inaccessible roads, the buildings have also been submerged, making learning impossible,“ Dauda said.

The situation had also affected the Federal Government Homegrown School Feeding Programme in the area as cooks hired could not supply meals to pupils.

He said the matter had been reported to the local government council for prompt actions.

But the worst may not have come for the schools and others in the area. The Nigeria Hydrological Services Agency (NIHSA) says more flood incidents would be experienced due to high rainfall intensity of long duration.  The Southern part of the country, the agency added, will feel the brunt more.

NIHSA Director-General Clement Nze said relevant stakeholders, especially individuals and state governments, have failed to heed the warning issued before the onset of flooding season across the country.

“Going by the prediction by Nigerian Meteorological Agency`s (NiMet), during the 2019 seasonal rainfall prediction, which they said there will be late onset of rainy season in Nigeria this year and early cessation.

“In orders words, rainfall will start very late and will end early, it is expected that by 26 of this month, rainfall will cease in Katsina and Sokoto and begin to move down to the south.

“But in the southern parts of Nigeria rainfall will still continue to fall up till November and even December in places like Bayelsa, Rivers even Delta will be experiencing rainfall up to late November.

“In that case, this is the main reason why we are gathered here today, Nigeria Hydrological Services Agency, has been closely monitoring the many flooding incidents taking place across the country with the attendant loss of lives and property.

“This means that relevant stakeholders, especially individuals and state governments, failed to heed our warnings issued before the onset of flooding season in the country.

“The agency is concerned about the non-adherence to flood predictions for 2019, thereby resulting in avoidable flooding incidents, leading to loss of lives, property, disruption of economic activities and loss of several hectares of agricultural lands,” he said.

Nze added that as at Monday, the Lagdo Dam in Cameroon is still impounding water, adding that it was not yet certain if there would be release of water from the dam in 2019.

He said that river Benue was rising steadily, due to local rainfall with attendant heavy inflows from the tributaries of the river.

He explained that the steady rising would likely cause river flooding in Adamawa, Taraba and Benue states.

“State so far affected by various degrees of flooding are Katsina, Sokoto, Zamfara, Kaduna, Kwara Adamawa, Benue, Bauchi, Gombe, Plateau, Taraba, Yobe, Kogi, Nasarawa.

“Also, Anambra, Delta, Bayelsa, Rivers, Edo, Lagos, Ogun, Osun, Oyo, Abia, Cross River, Borno, Jigawa, Kano, Ekiti and Oyo, including FCT.

“More than 100 local government areas within the states listed below are counting their losses,’’ he said.

According to him, river flooding as well as coastal flooding have come to stay as floods from the upper catchment of the Niger Basin had arrived the country.

“Therefore, state and local governments should endeavour to remove structures built within the floodplains, clear blocked drains, culverts and other waterways,’’ he said.

The fear of flood on Tuesday made the Lekki Estate Residents and Stakeholders Association (LERSA) intensify efforts to reduce the flooding in the area ahead of the September-October rain projections.  LERSA President James Emadoye called for the completion of the Lekki-Epe Expressway.

“Lagos generally is below sea level. Lekki which is a large area is very close to the sea shore, so we have to do all we can to ensure we have a good environment.

“We have done a lot of work among various estates to ensure the rains does not wash us away and we expect a better situation than what we had earlier in the year.

“People at this end are really suffering and when there is downpour, it takes about three hours to move from Abraham Adesanya to Sangotedo or further to Abijo Crown Estate.

“We therefore plead with the state government to resume work immediately in order to justify the toll being collected for over 12 years and bring succour to residents,” Emadoye said.

The South West II Zonal Coordinator of the Federal Roads Maintenance Agency (FERMA), Mr Rufus Onimisi, believes effective refuse collection system will help curb highway flooding in Lagos State.

Onimisi told  the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) that some residents of Lagos used open manholes, gutters and other drainage channels as refuse dumps thereby clogging weep holes and other road drainage networks.

He explained that the resultant effect of indiscriminate refuse disposal had blocked drainage channels.

“The problem of flooding of our highways usually caused by  blocked drains can be checked if there is an adequate and effective refuse collection mechanism.

“Waste management should be holistic from point of generation to final disposal,’’ he said.

Onimisi said FERMA, out of its limited resources, had been cleaning weep holes and other highway drainage channels across the state.

Enugu

Many residents of four communities of Okpu Ekoli, Amabiriba, Amagu and Amaeze in Aninri Local Government Area of Enugu State have been displaced by flood in the area.

The residents pleaded with the state government on Monday when a member representing the area in the State House of Assembly, Mr Chinedu Okwu, visited them to assess the level of damage caused by the flood.

A resident, Mr Gilbert Ogadi, said the people were surprised to witness that the communities were flooded because such unfortunate incident had not occurred in the last 30 years.

Ogadi said the flood destroyed many things, including farmlands, livestock, uprooted economic trees and other means of livelihood and appealed for urgent assistant from  the state government.

Another resident whose house was affected, Mrs Patricia Nwonye, said: “Everything was fine until around 2a.m. this morning, when l was woken by the flood, which has brought pain to us.’’

“Aside losing my entire savings; the flood also killed my livestock and collapsed one of my buildings. We have been rendered homeless by the incident. Please come to our aid,’’ she said.

The Chairman of Aninri Local Government Area, Mr Ezekiel Chukwu, described the flood as “an unfortunate incident’’ that befell the local government but assured that the council would provide succour to the affected people.

Plateau

In Plateau, fund is hampering the State Emergency Management Agency (SEMA). The agency’s Director, Search and Rescue, Mrs Juni Bala, told the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) in Jos that the agency had conducted an on-the-spot assessment of the needs of the affected communities.

“Recently, we experienced incidences of flood in some local governments in the state. We have Shendam, some parts of Pankshin Local Government; Mangu Local Government, Quan Pan Local Government; Kanam Local Government and Jos East Local Government areas. We first experienced flash flood in Jos North.

“We have undertaken an on-the-spot assessment 0f these areas that were affected by flooding and we have submitted a report to government.

“It is not quite long that we sent the report, we are waiting for the response,’’ she said.

Bala explained that the agency did not have funds of its own to address the situation, and that it was when government went through the report, approved and released the funds that the agency would be able to assist the victims.

She said apart from assisting the victims with food and other materials including farm equipments, the agency would also encourage the local governments to develop a contingency plan on how to attend to emergencies.

She said the aim of the contingency plan was to enable the local governments to assist the victims first before help would come from the state and national emergencies.

“The flood also affected people that farm near the river banks; we are suggesting that we will educate them to also educate their people not to farm close to the rivers.

“Because the experience is basically that of people that were farming by the river, the flood experienced this year, there were no houses, just farmlands that were affected by the flood,’’ she said.

Bala advised the people not to live and farm in flood prone areas, and should instead venture into dry season farming.

I recently wrote about one London-based cousin who always tries to avoid me in public for whatever reason best known to him. The first time he met me in London around 2004, this cousin still asked if I really graduated from Unilorin because he learnt I was expelled for activism and journalism! (Wetin concern him if I no graduate for God’s sake?).

This cousin is a comedian, Gani is not forcing himself on you, I don’t even need you for anything. You send me come London?

My own blood brother shielded him from a bullet when armed robbers invaded his father’s house in Agege when he returned (was he deported?) from Germany in the 1990s.

When I arrived at Lagos airport on the 9th of August, 2019, as I was passing through the immigration, I noticed somebody gently pulled my shirt. It was this cousin with a strange attitude….enjoy our drama.

Cousin: Gani, so you’re on the same flight with me from Dubai?

Gani : Yes, Egbon mi. I flew from Glasgow to Dubai but I did not notice you, plenty Naija people on board jare.

Cousin: Are you also in Nigeria for Sallah celebration?

Gani : I am in Nigeria for some projects and personal matters, not really for Sallah celebration.(I did not tell him of my father’s sickness, main reason for my emergency visit!)

This cousin noticed my ‘unfriendly’ attitude as I replied his words, he did not even ask for my phone number in Nigeria or in the United Kingdom. He just asked for my brother(who risked his life as he took a bullet for him in the 1990s!).

I told him he lives in Idimu area of Lagos. This cousin, my mother’s father sponsored his father to a school in Sierra Leone in the 1950s. Let me stop there because walls have inner ears.

2.Jagunmolu Vs Bakatari Police Officers.

Bakatari is like a boundary town between Abeokuta and Ibadan, if you’re travelling from Abeokuta to Ibadan via Odeda/Osiele road, you cannot escape Bakatari town. I entered a public transport from Asero area of Abeokuta on my way to Ibadan to see my Baba Iyawo and other loyal Facebook friends around 11.30 am in the morning.

I was patiently listening to all the gossips inside this car, I did not even tell anybody that I had just arrived from the United Kingdom 48 hours ago. I acted like a complete gentleman.

When we reached somewhere after Orile-Ilugun, our car started to cough as if recovering from mechanical malaria.

The experienced driver(old man in his 70s!) parked the car by the roadside to check the fault. I also joined the old man to check the engine.It was like the middle of nowhere if attacked, nobody to rescue anybody. That’s just the bitter truth.

To cut the long story short, one stubborn wood got stuck in between the wheels, making a disgusting sound to our ears. The old man crawled under the car to remove the wood while I looked out for coming vehicles. Mission accomplished.

This old driver (Baba Ibadan) said he became a professional driver in 1974. He gave the actual place, date and time. He also told a pathetic story of how police officers implicated and roped his childhood friend (also a bus driver!) into a crime some years ago. This innocent man spent 6 months in prison before freedom. I wept in my heart.

When we got to Bakatari town to meet police checkpoints, this Baba Ibadan said the police officers must always ask for money and quickly warned passengers not to talk because he knew the best way to handle the situation.

This critical moment, one ‘revolutionary’ spirit advised me to break protocol to challenge the bribe-taking police officers but another ‘stubborn’ spirit slapped me for stupidity. (Gani, se ori e daaru ni? Ki ni ti e gan ti awon oloopa ba n gba owo lowo awon onimoto? Dem go just kill you for nothing.)

One plain-clothed ‘police’ officer walked closer to our car, looking at the faces of all passengers as if searching for a ‘criminal’, I cannot describe my bottled anger over this harassment.

Suddenly, he picked one guy(suspected Yahoo-yahoo guy?) with NYSC face cap, he commanded him to come out of the car for a short interrogation. I knew I was likely to be the next target, I had to prepare myself for any question. Must I declare my real identity? Must I tell him I was just in Nigeria for a short visit from Scotland? Can I clearly educate him on human rights of Nigerian citizens under a democratic government?

TO BE CONTINUED…

This universe is more spiritual than physical and many dark forces control this world. That’s the bitter truth.

It appears we have many wicked people in this world more than the good people if we consider many strange incidents around us today.

I will come back to social media wickedness, let me just focus on real-life scenarios.

Scene 1: A young Nigerian man studied Pharmacy in one of the popular universities in SW Nigeria. He is a well-educated and extremely brilliant Muslim guy and working in a government hospital. He was in charge of leading Muslims in this government hospital on the holy pilgrimage to Hajj for over 5 years.

To cut the long story short, he suddenly developed a mental health problem, he undressed in his house and attempted to jump from the 3rd-floor balcony. He was rescued by neighbours. He was later sacked from this employment due to his psychiatric problem and now staying indoor in Lagos. Who can explain this mysterious drama? A brilliant man who is now a shadow of his old self. Aye mojuba ooo.

Scene 2 : A friend’s cousin finished PhD from one top university in Canada, he planned to return to Nigeria for employment in a private university. To cut the long story short, he arrived in Nigeria and was involved in a tragic accident along Lagos-Ibadan expressway, he died on his way to the hospital, the same day he touched down in Nigeria.

Scene 3: One of my London Sisi Mamas told me this true-life story which happened to her USA-based cousin…

“My cousin(Abimbola) lived over 16 years in America before she finally obtained her Green card and other papers. She was unable to travel when her mother died in Lagos because of her illegal immigration status. To cut the long story short, she decided to travel to Nigeria with her 2 US-born children(15-year-old boy & 9-year-old girl). She went straight to her stepmother’s house in Agege. This cousin taught her children Yoruba language, they understand very well and can also reply with an American accent.

This stepmom was so happy to meet Abimbola and her 2 Yankee children. Abimbola later left her 2 children to be with this stepmom as she travelled to Ikeja to see a friend.

This devilish stepmom started calling different people(spiritualists) on phone, plotting how to put poison in food to be prepared for Abimbola and her 2 children. She spoke in the Yoruba language, she wrongly assumed Abimbola’s children could not understand the language. These smart Yankee children pretended they did not hear anything.

When Abimbola arrived, time to eat dinner, and the Yankee children protested, saying their mother must not touch the food.It was like a scene from Nollywood film.

“Mom, your stepmom is evil, she just poisoned this food, trying to kill all of us, we need to move out now. I heard her speaking on phone in YOROBA language,”

The stepmom denied this allegation and even tagged the children as devilish and cheap blackmailers. They left the house that night and lodged to a nearby hotel.The rest is now history. Assuming those Yankee-born children were unable to understand a single sentence in Yoruba language…

Scene 4: I no go talk am now, too tragic…me sef dey weep inside my belle…How people go wicked like dis? Kilode gan? Ile aye, ile asan. Se ogun laiye ni? People no even fear God again? But why???Aye Akamara!

ANA President Denja Abdullahi is yet to pay 18-year-old student the N100,000 Prize Money He Won, despite appeals from teachers and concerned Nigerians.

In October 2018, at the prize ceremony at Preston Hotel, Ikeja, 18-year-old Nigerian writer Ernest O. Ògúnyemí was announced the winner of the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA)NECO/Teen Prize for Prose, for his 60-page collection of stories. The prize money was N100,000, and he had travelled from Abeokuta to Lagos to attend the event.

This young man received a plaque and a bag containing a copy of ANA’s annual publication, ANA Review, with assurance from the Association’s President Denja Abdullahi that he would soon receive his prize money. Meanwhile, Ògúnyemí was surprised that his poem had been published in ANA Review without his knowledge or permission. 

Months passed, Ògúnyemí called and texted Denja Abdullahi, but the latter’s tune continuously shifted. “We don’t have the money!” Abdullahi shouted at Ògúnyemí on one of the calls. When Ògúnyemí asked why Abdullahi was treating his query as unimportant, Abdullahi told him: “You are very rude. Never call me again.”

Eighteen and fearing for his starting career, Ògúnyemí spoke to his teachers, who called Abdullahi, who then told them to “give us two weeks.” The two weeks elapsed a week ago and Ògúnyemí did not hear from Abdullahi. Despite his non-payment, the 2019 edition of the same ANA prize was announced. 

At the time of his win, Ògúnyemí was an SSS3 student of Baptist Boys’ High School, Abeokuta. This great school produced former President Olusegun Obasanjo, Bashorun MKO Abiola, former Ogun state Governor Otunba Gbenga Daniel among others. Now he has just sat for the West African Examinations Council (WAEC) certificate. 

A US-based Nigerian writer, Roland Ikhide and a friend just paid N100,000 to this Abeokuta-based young writer and Dare Lasisi, UK-based Nigerian blogger also sent N10,000 to support this young writer.

Mr Abdulahi Denja has vowed not to pay the N100,000 prize money except a well-publicized apology from this motherless young man.

Mr. Michael Akinniyi, a former teacher of this young writer said during a telephone conversation with Dare Lasisi Online,  “May God bless you for shaming this Denja guy. If you see the way he was ranting on the phone with me, he swore on Ramadan that the boy would receive no dime from him. He was playing god with this serious matter. I appealed to him but he bragged that he’s a senior lecturer and he knows how to deal with boys who are rude. Rude over his entitlement? Nonsense.”

If you wish to assist this young writer, please contact this blogger via email address (darelasisi@gmail.com) as soon as possible.

OGUNYEMI ERNEST OLATUNBOSUN, 0434779782, GT BANK.

Ogunyemi lamented on Twitter :” Why won’t we seek validation outside Nigeria, when our literary space here is a big mess? A literary space that is fraud/scam!