Quick scribble

Quick Scribble: A Luta Continua . . .

Posted on Updated on

This was supposed to be a response to a friend’s facebook status when he opined—and asked to be straightened (as if he was crooked ad initio)—that people should, in a way, do less of hashtagging, offer assistance, pray, and give less of adulation and attention to some celebrities who “still don’t get it”.

Somehow between then and now, the supposed comment evolved to this. Too long to be in the box, but enough to relax here comfortably with a glass of mohjito handy.

I’ll start by saying that all these celebrity rants about how their initiation or support—with hashtags—has been helping is nonsense because they’re now making it sound like it’s actually about them. Blame it on the crave for more attention; on death resistant habits; on persistent “village people” at work . . . Blame it on – anything.

I would, however, add that these hashtags have really helped. The campaigns too. Thanks to concerned individual, including celebrities. In a country where the C.-in-C. (be free to name the Cs as you please) danced while the blood of victims of the blood-curdling bomb blast was yet to cease flowing, mass campaigns and barrage of hashtags to keep our concern and rage flooding the media, cyberspace and other spaces, are what I see as wherewithal, inter alia, to communicate that people aren’t sweeping it under the carpet like before. As a friend would say, no be sheré sheré.

It’s really not a joke.

Now the world knows. Open letters and opinions dashing like darts. Aids and helps flying first class. Confessions trailing secrets. Mr President can’t close his two eyes anymore (perhaps out of concern, or the effect of a prior presidential power nap). Many other things happening . . . and yes, thanks to Mama Piece Mama Peace who never carries last, we just confirmed that indeed, #DiaRisGodOo

Prayer is good. Very important. But permit me to submit that we must do more. We’re wont to saying that the wall of Jericho fell with the shouts of the Hallelujahs (which I’m comparing to prayers in this context). Just like that? Was it ever that easy? What happened before the hallelujah-esque death blow? The bearing of the ark? The blowing of trumpets? The steady marches? All repeated for days!

We all don’t need to attend sunday schools to know that the verbs; bearing, blowing, marching and et cetera-ing (remember the initial spying?) are in many ways similar to showing empathy/concern, campaigning, opining, hashtagging and other present day et cetera-ing. All repeated for days!

Why then must we stop?

Perhaps with new twists, but we must stop NOT. Efforts are in full gears, but we must contribute our quotas too.

Writing on #ChibokGirls now is what some would tag “late arrival”, “old news”. . . but that’s just the point! Is it over yet?

Let’s act in unity to #BringBackOurGirls

I vote #Synergy, not #Anarchy

We could do things differently for a start:

Proffer solutions; criticize constructively.

Provide intelligence when you have it.

Offer assistance in any capacity you can.

Support more concerned folks and victims.

Pray more. Act more. Rant less.

By all means necessary, do something productive.

This Jericho must fall

Adewoyin Joseph || @Jossef69
Would you like to share this?
It’s just a click away ↓


Quick Scribble: Upon The Conclusion Of A Service Year

Posted on Updated on

Whenever network decides to prove who the boss really is, a piece meant for another day or moment may tarry and find its way into Valala’s day. Apologies.

* * * * * *

It all started with contorted disappointed miens, determined lailai-I’m-never-gonna-stays, fear of the place we so much likened to a hell-hole, glaring fidgets about the unknown. . . counts and recounts of eleven to twelve months that donned the essence of forever. Now the time to go has come, with much different mindsets and mixed feelings. Things aren’t always entirely the way they seem.

I’ll miss my places of primary assignments (surprised I had more than one?): the “radiant” students whose smiles brighten my mornings, even though I wager my brain and consciousness daily against their to-hell-with-correct-tenses-cum-native-dialect-invaded grammar, it hits you like a brick and finds its way into the very fibre of your being; the corps members I was privileged to represent plus the happenings and melodramas that could make one laugh hysterically, weep within in pity, feel like breaking someone’s head—or nose—with Sandra’s hard high-heels [smiles]. . . please feel free to continue.

And my secondary places of assignments? Okay, some things are best left unwritten 🙂

I’ll miss Mopa—the wonderful people that made it great, the “wormderful” ones that failed in their attempts to make it otherwise, excellent bodies, team members and executives. . . and many more worthy of note. Even the few. . . or lots (I’ll decide on the apt one later) with pap—or something else congealed—in places one ought to find brain (apologies, that’s the closest I could manage to being sincere yet not insulting). Where’s the fun in life without the varieties?

Beneath the smiles and blank penetrating stares lies the deep longing; a realisation that leaving some people behind or seeing some go might just be the end, the round solid full-stop to our relationships. I hope paths will cross, but if they don’t, Godspeed to all my brothers from other mothers and sisters from other misters. Wishing y’all bests in your endeavours.

Veni vidi vici.

To greater achievements.

Much love to my true Vals
I pray I won’t get 14years behind bars for this 🙂

Adewoyin Joseph || @Jossef69
Would you like to share this?
It’s just a click away ↓

Quick scribble: Visit the more important things first, religious sites later

Posted on Updated on

It’s been a while since I dropped a piece — rant or otherwise. The blame won’t go to erratic power supply or busyness this time, rather I’ll attribute it to my preparations in the previous weeks and my eventual trip to Israel for erm…what’s it called now…a day with christ for my country — since christ is nowhere to be found within our immediate 923,768 sq km anymore. In case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t go with Bros Jones and his caustic grammar-laden chéri.

I’ll quit playing around and get straight to the point. I bet you didn’t believe that trip to Israel baloney (please don’t)… but you get the point. I’m right here in my PPA sitting in my room with a pot of beans on fire, and the thoughts of many Nigerians translated into sensations driving me to use my fingers to type a brief one.

Of course, prayer is a very good thing; a key element of progress as a matter of fact. However, I believe in another combination which is undoubtedly a better thing: Ora et labora. Yes, work and pray. I believe in miracles, but praying and hoping for one isn’t just expedient on it’s own…unless we work to get there.

Switching to “sunday school teacher” mode…

Brethren, faith without works is what…? Dead! Yes. Thank you.

The wall of Jericho didn’t just go down by mere shouts. The strategic marching for days plus the carrying of ark and trumpets of rams’ horns, and the eventual blowing and shouts went a long way…and it doesn’t sound like easy tasks to me. Does it? It wasn’t just a silent murmur or monument seeing.

Three weeks ago we celebrated marked Nigeria @53 and of the truth, it was the dullest since I was old enough to notice. Do we still need to unwrap the reasons? Nah. Decaying infrastructure, insecurity of life and property, unemployment…and yes, I won’t forget, legendary ASUU strike exudes from the foil already; bricks of our very own wall of Jericho.

There are (at least) two sides to every story. I’d like to believe that our number one citizen is on a mission towards the right course to discharge his duties as appropriate, with the intention of starting with prayers (I like this version). Thus, I’m saying amen to his prayers, wishing him and everyone else a safe trip back, and expectant of a change soonest…

….just as it is expected that my beans should be done by now.

God bless Nigeria.
Your comments are welcome.
Adewoyin Joseph || @Jossef69