Thanks, Opoks. Indeed, I somehow do not feel the need to bash Nigeria. Maturity, perhaps; training for another, and the rare opportunity of now having seen life from another perspective.

I went to the movies yesterday with Dr. Dooley, and I was the ONLY black guy there, with about 60 other white people and one Indian. Dr. Dooley (a very white person) tried to introduce me to her friends. I got talking at length with one Carol. She claimed to have a little knowledge of the Ibo, having taught classes in African literature, and become versed with Achebe's work, notably Things Fall Apart. She enlightened me a lot.

From her I came to realize that most of the things we claim to know are simply subjective interpretations of 'reality'. This woman spoke sensitively about Nigeria and much of Africa, 'regretting' that white people may not have helped Africa well enough. I told her not to feel so guilty. Who knew who the real enemies of Africa were, anyway? She even expressed a strong desire to visit Nigeria one day.

These days I get the feeling that people are just people, and we should be slow in judging them according to their skin or tribe or religion, or anything of the sort. We must be objective and positive; willing to forgive, to reconcile and to move our nation (America, Nigeria, whatever we see it as being) forward. We would waste less time with prejudice by doing so, and we would have much more accomplished in a short period of time.

These days I hardly ever think of my biological uncles vindictively. I forgive them, and understand that they probably did what they did because of their level of understanding of the world, and of the things that truly are important. The world is bigger than all of us put together.

As I type this, Umbrella is playing in the background, a wonderful tune by an African American, Rihanna. This is a woman who probably passed through a lot to get to where she is today, but that nonetheless her music is ministering to a whole world of people: blacks, whites, hispanics; everyone.

Please, let us transcend our limitations.

Prayer:

O God, help me to see this world as bigger than I am; help me to transcend my cultural and psychological limitations, and to view this world as a melange of various creeds, cultures and polities. Amen.

I am at the Rhatigan Student Center again today; I came to hook up with a literary agent, so that I can start publishing my manuscripts one after the other. I am anxious to see my name in print.

These days, I want to be POSITIVE in everything I say and do and think. By the special grace of God, this new attitude of positivity will flow out in everything I post on this thread.

But why do I want to be positive? I want to be positive because being here in America has taught me something: Everything is possible. You want to be rich? Easy. You want to be American? Easy. You want to write books and eventually get published? Easy. Just get up and do it. Don't dream it. As soon as you say this is what I want to do, ngwa, ngwa start doing it ozugbo, ozugbo. That is what I like about America.

America makes you hungry to achieve. You see what others are doing; geniuses are everywhere. You think you're fine? Come and see sweet boys; handsome yankee niggers, big, tall and fucking handsome. You think say you sabi book? Come and see people scoring perfect GRE marks. You think say you hol' pepper? Come and see people living big! I tell you, America humbles you. When I was in Nigeria I used to fancy that people were envying me; not anymore. I have met people that are my match; some wey even pass me, and I am humbled; indeed I am very humbled, and more than determined to do my best.

The hunger to be the best I can be is great. Only yesterday I met a black American who is supposed to be a colleague of mine. He is only 23, 4 years younger than I am, and he is to be in the same class with me. He looked like a prize athlete; slim and muscular build, and a very amiable disposition. I was impressed by his appearance, and now I have decided to be doing sit-ups first thing every morning. I also have begun to diet. I buy diet coke, and not ordinary coke; I also watch what I eat, and measure calories very carefully. I want to be leaner, and I want my stomach to be flat.

Also, yesterday I went to Dr. Dooley and asked her to give me the syllabus for Comm 801, so that I can start reading well beforehand; she laughed and asked me to relax, but said she would give me the schedule nonetheless.

Phew! I feel like doing and doing and doing. I just hope I'm not making up for a slight sense of inadequacy. I just feel too ambitious already. And it's giving me a giddy feeling. There are almost too many opportunities in the USA. Today I am going with Dr. Dooley for volunteer work, helping to register voters for the coming elections.

Prayer:

O God, please help me to be POSITIVE in everything I think and do and say. Help me to realize that each thing I think is poosible. Help me to stop dreaming. Let it be that when I think something I get up AT ONCE and begin to do it, because all things are possible. Thank you. Amen.

I consider myself a strong man. I tell myself that when I say something, I mean it. I meant it when I said I was leaving the thread; but this thread is something I have fallen in love with, and tearing myself away from it is difficult. I know that one day I will be strong enough to leave it, but I do not know when it will be.

Now that I have said all that, I must say that a lot has happened since the last time I posted. To start with, I have finished my fifth manuscript: Small, Small So Say. It is a full-length novel, and in its hand written form is 720 pages. When typed, it may come down to 300 or so. I think it will sell well. I have also begun my sixth write-up, The World of Enemies. I started today; just today, with Chapter One. I pride myself in my work, and as of today, I have five complete manuscripts:
1. Ninety Negro Numbers
2. A Planner defiled a People and Two Other Plays
3. The African Verses
4. Membusoje Doherty
5. Small, Small So Say
and a sixth one that I started today, The World of Enemies.

Another thing that has happened is that I am now in the United States of America. I am writing this from the Rhatigan Student Center, Wichita State University, Kansas. And you cannot imagine how happy I am. I am the happiest person in the world, and now I know that my soul has found rest. USA is all I imagined it to be, and more. And I know more than ever before that I will never be able to leave here.

But how did I get here so early? Actually, school starts on August 4, and I probably should have come to the USA late in July, but after resigning from Intercontinental in May, I began to get bored, and I ached to start a new life. Those who have been following this thread recall that I said I was investing with a person in the spare parts business. Well, that person turned out to be the devil himself. He ended up swindling me of a whopping 400 thousand naira! And the 370 thousand I had left, all of a sudden seemed too small. I reasoned that if I stayed longer in Nigeria, I would start dipping into the money, and would not have enough to enter the US with; and I was worried. But I still did not feel it was time to leave Nigeria, and I stayed on in Kano. (By the way, does it surprise you that in 5 months of working at IB Plc for 173,000 a month I was able to save 770,000? I told you I am a saving genius. And now that there is no longer a Chibunna Igwe to swindle me, I will be rich very quickly.)

The last straw that broke the camel's back was when in the wee hours of 20th June, armed robbers broke into my apartment at Kano, asking where the money was. I asked them what money they were talking about, and they repeated their demand: I was to give them 'the money'. I sighed, and told them there was no money. They searched, stole some of my property, and then left. It had been all of three years or more since I last came face to face with hoodlums, and I felt enough was already more than enough. I had had enough of Nigeria for one life time. That very morning, I went and bought a one-way ticket for 243,000 naira. I changed the remainder to dollars, and packed out of the house at Kano, and moved to Abuja, from where I took off on the 21st en route Amsterdam, to the USA. I am now in God's own country.

My journey was splendid. The plane took off from Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, and passed through Aminu Kano, and then flew straight to Amsterdam, and stopped. At Amsterdam, I waited for 4 hours to be transferred to the plane that would take me to USA. There I saw wonders. Chineke! Ah! Nigeria is really behind. Good gracious! Come and see technology! See sophistication! Chei! Anyway, God dey. Need I say I enjoyed every minute I spent at Amsterdam? Then I flew NWA, and landed in Memphis, USA. Just before I left Nigeria, my HOD at the Grad School here feared that I might not be allowed to enter America, because I was early; too early, but like I always say, God intended for me to be an American. The Customs fellow did not even ask me why I was entering the USA this early. He did not even ask me anything. He just said, 'Enter.' Can you believe it?

Even till now, People at the International Education Center here in WSU look at me with awe; they wonder how I was able to enter USA up to six weeks to the start of class. They say I am a magician. I am not; it's just that in spirit, I am a true American; an American in the blood. An American by destiny. Since I landed here, I have felt at home. The staff here at the department all fancy that they are in love with me: Dr. Dooley, Gaunt, Huxman; all of them. I love them, and they love me. They feel so at ease with me, and I with them. Today I got a job; this summer, I am to be a Mentor to Kansas Cubs; I am also to participate in a debate camp through the summer; indeed I have been so busy, and this is just my fourth day in the USA. God, I love America! I am madly in love with this nation.

Not only that, Dr. Dooley yesterday lent me her copy of Obama's book, The Audacity of Hope; it is the first book written by Obama that I have read, and now I begin to understand the man. Believe me, I swear that he will be the next American president; you will say I said so! The guy is a truly great man; a truly great, great man! I love Obama; I love Kansas; I worship and adore America. Now that I am here, I will work and read and show them what I am made of; I will be at my best; I will do, and do and do.

My God, come and see my dorm room! See technology. I just moved in with my bag. It was furnished already. When Chibunna Igwe (God punish him) stole my 400 thousand, I thought I would suffer, but since I got here, I have hardly spent a dime, and I am living like a king. In my dorm room, there is a bed, series of cupboards; a kitchen, toilet-and-bath; reading desk and chair; airconditioning/heater; everything. There is a fridge, an electric cooker; what's not in my suite, for Christ's sake? Hei! These people are simply angels. Biko kwanu, what is not in my suite?

Everything works: 24-hour electricity; the taps are all working; every goddam thing is working, for Christ's sake! Chei! Chei! Chei! America. America. America. Chei! Chei! Chei! My God! I will die for this country. America, I love you; I worship you; I adore you; I give you my heart, my soul, my body; do what you like with me. I love you so dearly.

God bless America! God bless her! I am weeping for joy. America, I love you.

I want to use this opportunity to formally RESIGN from this thread. I will never post here again. I want to thank all those who have made my stay on this thread fun. Now, however, it's time to walk. Goodbye all. Forever. God bless you all.

If there's one way I can still post on this thread, objctively; not drawing any attention to myself, but simply being and letting others be as well, in peace and tolerance, God, please help me find it. I beg you.

Gotta go now; running out of time.

2. How do I intend to do something to help Africa from the US?

This is something I have said severally on this thread. I intend to form a cult-company, or what Aniffy would call a social business. I intend to call it Catpar Inc. It will be a big, multinational company, and it will be chiefly interested in facilitating the springing up of literally thousands of companies all over Africa, for to employ all her youths. I think Africa needs many industries. Even Dangote has said that what Africa needs is investment, and not aid. And I think he is right. The Catparian Society (Catpar Inc.) will be made of four segments:

1. Outreach
2. Business development
3. Financial Management
4. Corporate Affairs.

All these facets will blend for one purpose: turning as many business ideas created by Africans into viable businesses. In Nigeria alone, do you know how many ideas are dying because of lack of encouragement? The other day I heard that there was this boy from Nsukka. He had crafted a refrigerator that could use mechanical, electrical and solar energies. I heard he came out on NTA to show off his craft. He called on 'well-meaning' Nigerians to help; sometime later, he came on NTA again, but not to call on well-meaning Nigerians to help with a fridge this time around, but with his stomach that had become bloated out of proportion. He is dead now, because no well-meaning Nigerian helped either with his fridge or with his bloated belly.

Now think: if the Catpar had been built already, all that boy would have done would have been to write to the Prefect, Catpar Inc, USA, and we would have swooped in to help him convert that single idea of his into a fridge company, producing many fridges and exporting them to all the world, while at the same time providing employment for many young graduates.

You see? I do not hate Africa; I am only dissatisfied with her state of affairs, and God knows I mean well. I wish her well. God knows; he sees my heart. Here is a poem I wrote. It won international recognition at the Mattia Canadian Poetry Society in 2005:

Mama Africa

I think of my Africa
Black woman of mettle
Sitting like a forlorn workwoman
On the slimy green

Mama let me help you up
Take my hand and heave
Just one move of muscle
Will raise you from your stooping

She sits still
Reluctant and bemused
Unrepentant of her inferior folly

I am agitated
Mama cannot go on such forever
One more effort must remind her
That I am still her son
And her shame is mine as well.

You can google it on Mattia, or using my own name; or the name of the poem. Thanks, and God bless you all.

The two points above are not that simple though, and they can be further dissected:

1. How can a person who was born in Nigeria and spent his first 27 years there say he doesn't feel Nigerian; is he just 'forming'? This, to me, is a question of psychology. And I have wondered about it myself. But do you know what I have noticed? Let me tell you:

a. Ever since I can recall, I have been fascinated by that name, America. It has been so, right from childhood. One of my uncles, Raymond, lives permanently in the US, and I look so much like him that I could pass for his biological son (I even look more like him than I do my late father, and Ray has been there for at least 23 years now, and his daughter, Ellah Nze is an international sports figure. You can google the name Ellah Nze). Those days when he used to come and visit us at our duplex on 7th Avenue, Festac, I used to admire them, and wonder what this place was where people like these lived. I was only 4 or 5 back then.

b. As a child of seven I used to have a recurring dream. I would be running, chased by about three white men. They would be chasing me, wanting to capture me, and I would be running, until they converged on me, cuffed my hands and led me away, without anyone helping me. These days when I recall those dreams, I feel it was back then that America stole my soul. I have fallen irrevocably in love for that country called America. Like the love a man has for a beautiful virgin.

c. Sometime ago, I joined this website called www.thespark.com. They have a lot of psychometric tests there, and there was a test called the Americanness test. The test purports that some people, regardless of where they are, have 'americanness' in their blood. I laughed, but took the test. I scored 70%; I took it again, and still I scored 70%. The test said that of all people who had taken the test, I had performed more than 94% of them all, and that I had 'americanness' in my blood. They ranked me with names like Oprah, Roosevelt and Kutcher.

d. When I went for my embassy interview, there was this 'clicking' between me and the person interviewing me. My interview lasted only 3 minutes or so; the white man interviewing me would ask me a question, and then answer it himself; like: 'Are you going for education; indeed you are.' 'Do you have the finances to cover your stay? Oh, I'm sure you do; it says here that you work with Intercontinental,' and so on. He was virtually interviewing himself. And that is not how he treated the two people he interviewed before me. He denied both of them visa.

e. I notice that all the black Americans I have ever met in person have fallen head over heels in love with me. Sade called me her son; Adilah and Bill called me brother; another one called me the 'most beautiful thing she had seen since her plane touched down,' and so on and so forth. In every instance, there seemed to be a spiritual bonding between me and these American people. I can't explain it, but I know it's there.

Don't ask me if I think God made a mistake in making me first a Nigerian; but he has done His own; it is now left for me to do my own: make myself an American. St. Augustine of Hippo said, 'What we are is God's gift to us; what we become is our gift back to Him.' He was a very wise man.

Okay, let's cut out the fool or no fool thing. Let's get serious. All I have been saying about Africa can be summarized in these two simple points:

1. I don't feel I belong here in Nigeria. Don't hate me for saying so; it's just the way I have felt for a long time now.

2. I am dissatisfied with the state of affairs in Africa, and sometime in the future, especially when I am rich (I intend to be very rich) I hope to do something very tangible to help heal the motherland; something all the world will see.

So help me O God.

Okpoko! You are not a good person. Gaskia, walahi!

This is another opinion of mine: Okpoko, you are a fool. Simple. I used to think that maybe you were, or maybe you weren't, but now I know for sure that you are a fool.

To start with, Okpoko, that quote of mine you dubbed was a simple rendition of Stan's joke in its original form. In the form Stan earlier presented it, the joke had been severely edited, and was not as funny as it would have been were it not edited. And as for my comment on we Africans being defensive of our mediocre state of affairs, I have these two things to say: 1. Africa's state of affairs are mediocre compared to the state of affairs in America and Europe. Or shall we carry out a research to prove otherwise, if that were possible? Even a child knows that life is more convenient there than here. 2. I have experienced Africans defending their state of affairs both colloquially and in their written works of art. But can we hide the truth? Do you know that a banana in Zimbabwe is now two million Zimbabwean dollars? Okpoko, I agree that you are a fool, but think; think!

Also, about my complaining about being envied, I say it because I feel it at times. I feel it when I see how some of my peers react when they are around me; I hear it in their words. And when I choose not to be silent about it, I speak out. We both know that the average Nigerian tends towards envy very easily. Or shall we carry out a research to verify this? Why are you talking as if you don't know your people? Is it because you are a fool, gbo Okpoko? I sympathize with you, anyway.

Finally, let me tell you this: I do not say ugly things about 'your country' because I want to rubbish it; I say them because that is the way I perceive them; I say them as well because they help me to recall that there is a lot to be done to heal Africa, motherland to millions of black people at home and in diaspora. And one day I will begin to do something very tangible to 'heal the motherland'; something all the world will see. But I will do it from America, a place I hope I will find the home I have not found here, among fools like you!

And for what it is worth, this is my own opinion: OBAMA IS THE BETTER CHOICE FOR AMERICA. Yes, he is. And I say this for the following reasons:

1. Obama is younger than McCain; he is 46, and if elected president will be one of the youngest ever democrats to be so; Teddy Roosevelt was the youngest ever, at 42. Teddy was Republican. JFK was 44 in 1961 when he was sworn in as US president. JFK was a democrat.

2. He is very intelligent. He went to Harvard Law School and graduated with first class honours; he was also the first black person to be President of Harvard Law Review while there.

3. He is a symbol of unity, and very likely will help integrate the classes in America:
a. Unity of race: He is both black and white (half caste son of black father from Kenya and white mother from Wichita, Kansas).
b. Unity of creed: He is both Christian and moslem (son of moslem father and Christian mother) and has vowed to end the war in Iraq
c. Unity of status: He has tasted both poverty and wealth; he has both the wisdom of the streets (where he did drugs as a teenager seeking direction for life), and the wisdom of Harvard, an Ivy League school.
d. Unity of science and superstition: He has endured the controversy of the black-white dichotomy (recall Rev. Wright's speeches on white supremacy in Historical America) and has emerged unscathed. He has put paid to the superstition that black people could never aspire to the white house.

Indeed, a research carried out on 24 countries by the Pew research centre said that Obama has received greater support by the international community as the man the world needs. His campaign has as well received a head start over McCain's.

So much so for my educated opinion. By the way, my latest book Small Small So Say is almost finished, and I'm going to talk a little about Obama in it.

Lots of love.

It has been said that he that knows not and knows not that he knows not is a fool, shun him; it has also been said that silence is the best answer for a fool. Yet despite these warnings, I go ahead to respond to your latest post, Okpoko.

Izi-n-bizi wisely said that the boundaries of the world are thinning, and you began flaunting subjective statements about his submission.

To start with, John Locke said that humans are largely products of their socialization, and that their biological makeup has little to do with what they become eventually. Though his view has been criticized, it had led to the general view that bio-social characteristics, notable race (as evidenced by skin colour), are merely accidents of nature.

If you have watched Mr. Bones as well, you would find that the white boy that grew up entirely in a black culture ended up acting entirely black.

My point? Regardless of skin colour, a person ends up becoming a member of a society by effectively responding to the socialization he has received from that society.

That Obama was given a race for his money in the primaries simply because he was black was at best your opinion. That he really is whiter than black because of his mother, and this has helped his selection as democratic presidential nominee is as well an opinion. That more than half of the Americans that voted him do not really accept him is also an opinion; you afforded no statistics to back up your statement; practically all you said about America itself, and the global village that scholars say the world now is are opinionistic, and all lack evidence.

I was also irritated by what you said about me: that I have inferiority complex and all what not. Okpoko, what really does inferiority mean? Is it what a person is guilty of when he walks with head bowed, and is ashamed of himself? Hang on a minute, let me google it up on an online dictionary, yes. I have one definition now, from AudioEnglish.net. It goes thus: A sense of personal inferiority arising from conflict between the desire to be noticed and the fear of being humiliated. And I ask myself, Do I have that? Do I suffer from a conflict between the desire to be noticed and a fear of being humiliated, and the answer I get from personal reflection is no. I do not think I have inferiority complex. Your statement that I do is to me, entirely your own opinion.

Okpoko, please stop saying these ugly things to me, okay? I have done you no harm. Please. Inugo?

For a wad of worthless Zimbabwean banknotes President Mugabe’s militias burnt six-year-old Nyasha Mashoko to death.

The target of the Zanu (PF) thugs had been the boy’s father, Brian Mamhova. They came for him on Friday night — three truckloads of them, plus a Mercedes Benz from which alighted three armed men in suits, Mr Mamhova said. The militiamen had been promised Z$25 trillion (£12,500) to kill him, which seems a high price on the head of a district councillor but which is no problem for a Government that sees printing money as the best way out of a crisis.

Mr Mamhova was elected a councillor for the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) in elections on March 29 for the Harare South district council, an area of farms and rundown houses on the outskirts of the capital, close to Harare airport.

At 8pm on Friday Mr Mamhova was asleep. His wife, Pamela Pasvani, 21, his son, Nyasha, his younger brother and a nephew were in an adjoining room.

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“They [the militiamen] got in the room where I was and they were searching me against the wall,” he said. He managed to break free from the men holding them and slipped past the others in the darkness. He stopped running when he was 100 metres away, and hid behind a bush. “They were running past me,” he said, and he heard them muttering that they were about to lose their bounty.

“They locked the door where my wife was. They smashed the windows and threw petrol inside. Then they lit it,” he said. “Inside the house, my young brother broke the door. I thank God, otherwise they would be burnt, all of them. He took my nephew out of the room. Then he went back into the room and he took my wife, but it was late. She got 80 per cent burnt. My son was burnt to pieces.”

“Then they beat everybody there, my neighbours, everyone. Many of them are in Chitungwiza hospital [the nearest state hospital] now.” His brother and his nephew escaped with minor burns. “I am in a hidden place now. They are hunting me. They are saying they want to kill me. It is terrible.” The perpetrators of such crimes act with impunity, he said.

“When they did this, they were led by their local Zanu (PF) chairman. He lives close to our place. All of them are still there, now.” Mr Mamhova was left with only the shorts he was wearing. “Everything was burnt. There is nothing left. The clothes, the blankets, the food, all burnt. Somebody gave me some clothes.” His wife died on Saturday in ward C6 of the burns unit of Harare hospital. “No one survives more than 50 per cent burns,” a doctor there said. She was 18 weeks pregnant.

The terror tactic of burning people alive has been little used by Zanu (PF) in recent years but seems to be being revived. Last Wednesday, in the village of Jerera in Zaka district in the southeast of the country, a group of gunmen described as being in riot police uniform broke into an MDC office and fired on six people. Then they poured petrol over them and set them ablaze. Two died in the fire.

A photograph of one of them, published in a local independent newspaper, was remarkably like the picture of one of the charred victims of the xenophobic violence in Johannesburg two weeks ago. Two others are in Harare hospital with 30 and 40 per cent burns respectively. The remaining two have disappeared.

In 1963, when the black nationalist movement fighting against the white minority Rhodesian Government split, youths on either side of the divide locked people in their houses in urban townships and threw petrol bombs inside. The leader of the youth wing of one faction — the newly formed Zimbabwe African National Union (Zanu), forerunner to Zanu (PF) — was a young school teacher named Robert Mugabe.

“If you look back at the methods of Zanu (PF) since it was formed, the only one who was there from that time is the President,” Willas Madzimure, a Harare MP, said. “Which means he knows exactly how to do it.”

A history of violence

1963 During the rebellion against white colonial rule Mr Mugabe forms the Zimbabwe African National Union (Zanu) as a breakaway from the Zimbabwe African People’s Union (Zapu) led by Mr Nkomo. The Government declares a state of emergency after firebombing and violence in the poor, black townships

1975 Mr Mugabe returns from exile and restarts guerrilla war, which claimed 36,000 lives and displaced 1.5 million people. Mr Mugabe’s forces used mutilation and burning in their brutal campaign

1979 A peace deal is brokered by the British and the first elections are agreed. Mr Mugabe’s campaign is so violent that he is threatened repeatedly with disqualification

1980 Mr Mugabe wins the election and forms a coalition with Zapu

1982 Mr Mugabe sacks Mr Nkomo and cracks down on his supporters. He is accused of killing 20,000 Zapu supporters

Source: International Crisis Group, Times archives

What is wrong with Africa?

And if we must progress, let us tell our relatives in the village to learn to curtail their jealousies. It is too much! And we are sinfully copying their example! Can you believe today I went somewhere and someone that knew me when I was with IB Plc saw me in mufti and said, 'Ah-ahn. No work today?' I said, 'I've resigned,' and before she could check herself she spontaneously blurted out, 'Thank God!' Then immediately realizing her folly, she said, 'Oh. Sorry, I mean congratulations.' I wanted to ask, Congratulations for what? But I decided it would be in bad taste, and she looked too embarrassed already. This happened only today. Naija, na wa-o! Na so we go use progress?

Alfa Prime, you have spoken well. I am happy you had such an illustrous dad. And partly thanks to him, see where you are today!

You see, I am of the objective opinion that the world is an open home, and a person should feel free to make a home where he feels he finds usefulness to work, and belongingness to the people there.

I say this not for my self alone (subjectivity), but for all people (objectivity).

But like I said, you have spoken well. I am clapping for you.

opokonwa:

Why bother to educate a man who has sold his conscience & nationality (and everything he ever had) on the altar of travelling & relocating abroad permanently?
Why are you people still on this very topic?

Let he who wants to love his roots love his roots well well!
And let he who hates it (or disguises same) hate it well well!
_{It's a free world!}

After all, what is the value of either your love or hate for Nigeria?
Does it add food to the plate of the deprived or more money to the earnings of Opoks! ?

I personally think that this subject is an over-flogged issue that only insults the senses of true & patriotic Nigerians.

Kuwena has made up his mind to dump his country, brothers and everything that reminds him of Nigeria. Period.

I wonder whether subsequent discussions on this issue suggests that Kuwena is seeking justification for his resolve?
Your 'home' can be in the Arctic Ocean, Santa Barbara or Imo state, who cares?!

Go ahead and head on to the USA for life. We wish you well! We have always wished you well!
But often coming back on the same topic to relate how you have given up on everything Nigeria or 'home' as you may refer to it makes me sick
As though you're desperately seeking for like-minded peeps who will endorse your viewpoint?

_{This thread is sick!
Full of sick people!}

Opoko, there are at least two ways to look at an issue (subjective and objective), and think you are being subjective here.

skeelo:


longest time, no see no call no messages, no b small thing.
as i open this page now, i jst smiled when i saw that the 'BIG MEN' r still makin this trend move, I bow for una,
wetin com surprise me as i dey move dey read una messages be say, una mind set never change, wetin do u, kwena, if person dey homesick wetin b your own, u knw wetin she leave for here,
As for opoks, i hail u long time, bt una quarrel before, ok i seeeeeeeeeeeeee,
make i warn u , me i well i no knw about others oooooo
nuttin do all of us, make we enjoy this life abeg,
make una no vex say e tey before i show again,
una wey knw the scriptures remember wetin JESUS talk,
he say one time una go see me, another wetin happen,
because i don waka again b that
shoooooo,
miss u guys,

Skeelo, I am clapping for you.

One last thing, regardless of Adichie's exampe, I have resolved to love or hate things based entirely on their objective merit, and not because I have ties to those things. Hence, I choose to love an entity for its own essence, and not because that entity is related to me. And the essence of an entity can be seen in its marked, recurrent, characteristic behaviour. It is in this sense that someone I said I loved yesterday could be a source of irritation to me today. Love seems to me to be an ephemeral word with no precise meaning. Alors!

I'm online now.

For the first time, I was able to read one of Chimamanda Adiche's novels; actually her first, Purple Hibiscus. Curiously, though I have watched her on CNN, and Googled her several times, and loved her fame, it is only today that I have come round to reading anything from her. She writes fluidly, I must confess, and it is no wonder that her books have won international awards. And it should make us proud, because she is a Nigerian, and spent a good deal of her earliest years here; in Enugu, to be precise.

Reading Adichie has given me insight into her personality, and it is an insight that I could never have got watching her on CNN, or Googling her up. She currently lives in the United States, and it is there she has herself published. However, I notice from her writing that she is homesick; practically dying to return to Nigeria. And this is curious. Indeed, it is always curious when I hear people that have become successes in the white man's country (that had not been successes here before they left) speak of so much nostalgia for their homeland; they have escaped the lack of electricity, the bad roads, the traffic congestions and potholes; they have escaped the witchcraft, the jealousy of less successful peers, and so many of the other ills; and they have gone to a better land; then all of a sudden they want to come back to their country, as if they had never been gone at all. Does it mean they did not appreciate the success they got over there; does it mean it did not matter?

I agree that it has been said, 'East or west, home is best'; but what exactly does 'home' mean? Is it not where a person finds usefulness? Must home be a place where your biological compares live? Adichie's book seems a little too balanced to be provoking, and yet a little too subtle to be smug. She seems to mix a love for white civilization with a contempt for its cultural restrictions; at the same time, she seems to want to prove, almost desperately, that the back culture is an equal variant of the white, while simultaneously praising the white and seeing its merits. She seems to want to marry the two with some form of modern hybridization, though she doesn't altogether succeed. But her nostalgia for the motherland is ever clear.

I am all the wiser for reading it. I recall that opinion is free, and that whether or not one chooses this or that as his home, it is the desire for actualization that is important, not the actualization itself; and that the definition of the terms, desire and actualization, are unique to each individual, as Adichie herself has shown.

Ku ku! Waow, I like that! Can we chat on Messenger?

We all are trying to have a good time, I hope.

Kenosky la la; Stanni bobo; Pak for sure. You all are doing well. Keep the flag flying.

One love, y'all!

Stannesi, you severely edited that joke. You did not say that:

1. The hotel the man checked into was in Africa.

2. The man was pleased that 'they have computers here'.

3. He revealed to his wife that the place was very hot (expectedly making her think it was Hell)

If you had added these points, as in the original version of the joke, it would have been easier to laugh to.

Why do we Africans seem too defensive of our mediocre state of affairs? Beats me.

'Be still and know that [God is] God' (Psalm 46 v 10).

Senator Obama styled his campaign The Audacity of Hope. My people, we are young. Let us all have the audacity of hope; hope in the brightness of tomorrow. Like our icons of pride. Like Chimamanda Adichie, who is young like we are.

Hearty Hope

When my fathers sailed
Long time ago across the seas
They sang, yes they sang
With hearty hope
When they bore the whip
Or saw their brothers thrown overboard
They still sang, yes they went on singing
With hearty hope

The ailers suffered
The noisy boots stomped overhead
As they crammed in the dark below
With bugs and spiders
Women in passionate throes
Emotional convolutions of tortured spite
Even in the muddled groping
They sang; yes, they did sing on
With hearty hope

The ro-ro water unsettled the gut
Weeks of juggling atop the blue-white crests
Of salty saddened waves within the heart
And without the sailing ships
In chains of pure steel
Backs marked by horse tail whips
In merciless scourging
Did they tire?
No – they sang; they went on singing
With hearty hope

And even when the vessels docked
They filed out distraught
Unto foreign soil, hauled up on the docks
Still in chains to be priced
By the plantation owners
The sun hot on their backs
Anyway they were undaunted by usual heat
Lots more where they came from
And in forced silence
Within their hearts free despite the chains
They sang; they courageously sang still
With hearty hope

Bought and scarred with hot rods
Master’s name imprint
Individualism lost at the stake
New home, new hassles, new suffering
Manual strife, mediocre ill-will
Occasioning deathly pensiveness
The lonesome silence in painful heaving
Lowered but still not overcome
With tear-filled eyes unbowed
They sang – they had to go on singing
With hearty hope

Years gave birth to ages
Seasons swapping still
Hamstrung on foreign land
Unable to return
Home unknown or long forgotten
Assimilating forcefully new codes
Taught to be white even though swarthy
Only one tradition stayed
It was their singing
The tireless mouthing the numbers
Of freedom yet unborn, unseen
Known and felt only
With hearty hope.

(Cf The African Verses, pp 49-50).

Song of Hope

Watered garden flowers sprout and shine
The earth has fed them fat
Morning after morning
The bright and merry sun
Smiles deep at them
The love in the rays nurtures
Keeps them ever healthy
The stalks are ruddy, leaves robust
The roots suck in the fluid of the soil
The manure falling from the farmer’s hand
The liquid of the lately rain
The salty rocks within the crust
Mix well a ravish meal
For the blooming of the plant

We too bloom
The African green growth
Lean or fat, black or brown
The African man, woman, child
Is wont to grace the rising sun
We bear up our loins
Our brawny passions taut
Our breast are heaving with our hoes
Our torsos shaking to the shekere
As we ululate
Poetic renditions from creative souls
Simbalele sojunu
Simbalele sojunu
Simbalele sojunu camarale
Simbalele nonarabo
We are exulting that we live
We bear up the painful days
We are survivors
Having been through the mire
We are survivors
From yesterday’s massacre
We watched our siblings die
Kwashiokor ate their livers
We saw the soldiers
Rape our sisters before plunging them
Deep inside the brine
Yet we live
To tell our story
We live to sing our song
Simbalele sojunu
Simbalele sojunu
Simbalele sojunu camarale
Simbalele sojunu nonarabo
Let the drums beat
The shekeres not seize to rattle
Let the spirits take our cue
And the rapturous skies laugh
The sunny birds will go in echelon
Over the shrubs of the savannah
Taming the cattle in herds
Making us fatter still
Even in the troubles unseen
Even in the unnerving hour
Let us ever fill
Become revived in our singing
In our state
We go on pronouncing the words
Those lines of emancipation
That tomorrow sure will bring
We go on singing
Simbalele simbalele sojunu indiaro.

(Cf The African Verses, pp 108-109)

Samuel,

Greetings,
I heard it over the news today that Senator Barack Obama has eventually clinched the presidential nomination for the democratic party.
Yes!!!
He has done us real proud, hasn't he?
Yes, he has, (I just got chills, )

And you expressing your views from Nigeria and another brother from Germany to me makes me realize that this victory was bigger than for Blacks in America. We are talking about Blacks around the world!

WOW!!!!!
I think he is a very great man.
Yes,
You have heard the news already, haven't you?
Absolutely!
I feel so happy to be a black man all of a sudden,
Yes,
and this is 45 years after Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech.
To the day!
Oh! We serve a wonder-working God.
Yes, we do,
Who would have thought that from the auction blocks, the rudy black man would find his way to the white house?
In our lifetime, particularly,

My father is now 99 years old and I KNOW he did not expect to see this milestone in his lifetime!!!
It is in us.
Yes.
We have the fire; we have the grace, and God is with us.
Yes,
With Obama as president of the United States, all black people everyday will appreciate the visions of all our prophetic icons, of Malcolm X, of Rosa Parks; of Booker T Washington; of Oprah Winfrey; of you, of me.
Yes,
Oh, Dilah, I'm so glad. And it is happening in our lifetime!
Yes!
God bless us; God bless America.
Indeed,

I am thrilled to hear from you in Nigeria with your joy. You have made me realize how global this victory is for Blacks around the world!

I am ccing this e-mail to a few folks who I know will appreciate hearing a response from the Motherland!

Walk in Balance,

Adilah
Talk to you again soon, I hope. Bye now!

Her own reply to my email. Notice her unique way of chopping up my email and replying it bit by bit.

I heard it over the news today that Senator Barack Obama has eventually clinched the presidential nomination for the democratic party. He has done us real proud, hasn't he? I think he is a very great man. You have heard the news already, haven't you? I feel so happy to be a black man all of a sudden, and this is 45 years after Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech. Oh! We serve a wonder-working God. Who would have thought that from the auction blocks, the rudy black man would find his way to the white house? It is in us. We have the fire; we have the grace, and God is with us. With Obama as president of the United States, all black people everyday will appreciate the visions of all our prophetic icons, of Malcolm X, of Rosa Parks; of Booker T Washington; of Oprah Winfrey; of you, of me. Oh, Dilah, I'm so glad. And it is happening in our lifetime! God bless us; God bless America. Talk to you again soon, I hope. Bye now!

That was my own email to her.

Rejoice; it has pleased Yahweh to give us the Kingdom.