SHALOM!

My most foolish mistake in life was not taking the Teachings of Yahshua ben Yahweh seriously.

Therefore I am confined to a Ward in my own Health Centre, where I have worked as a Laboratory Assistant for most of my life, that is, 35 years. A Prisoner of Nothing but my own Fears, Incompetence, Laziness, Cowardice, Dishonesty, Sins, Iniquities, and Hypocrisy, many might say: which I would readily agree to- though, not necessarily for the same reasons my accusers might apply.

After more than 25 years without taking any sort of Pharmaceutical Remedy, I find myself compelled to take whatever doses of medicine my doctors have prescribed for me, if I want to live.

I do not want to die- but that does not mean that I want to live at any cost. Certainly not like this- with Chemical Sorcery defiling my not-so-perfect body. I never believed that I could possibly die of something that I could understand very well, but "fully-qualified" Medical Doctors, not at all.

It beggars belief that Doctors with modern Education could say to a patients' face, that they could not confirm his condition by laboratory tests- but that is what has happened to me.

Why don't I "just use FAITH" to "RISE-AND-WALK" out of here?

Even because 30 years ago, GOD told me to DO something, and I would not do it. Therefore, I could no longer use FAITH-IN-GOD to Heal myself any more. I therefore fell sick immediately.

I therefore applied the only other Power available that I could apply: TEMPERANCE.

I subsequently used FASTING to keep myself Healthy. Three days without any sort of food depletes GLUCOSE from the body. This is what many disease organisms depend on to live in our bodies. Take that away, and many of them cannot do that any more.

But if you Fast TEN DAYS or LONGER, your body enters into a state of fitness in which it excretes toxic substances produced by Disease Organisms FASTER (no pun intended,) than the Disease Organisms can produce them.

This make acquisition of Diseases impossible, so long as this state is renewed periodically.

This is what I can no longer do.

FASTING BEYOND THREE DAYS CAN HAVE LETHAL CONSEQUENCES, UNLESS A MINIMUM OF 1.5 LITRES OF WATER ARE CONSUMED EACH DAY.

This is necessary, because as from that point in the Fast, the body breaks down its Fat Reserve and uses it to fuel the body.

However, the breakdown by-products of Fat Metabolism are themselves toxic (like inhaling the smoke from burning oil,) and a week of that is enough to kill one.

Unless one drinks enough water to enable their easy excretion.

However, there is another important factor involved: BODY FAT ABSORBS TOXIC SUBSTANCES; destroy that, and all these substances are released into the bloodstream.

THAT CAN KILL IN LESS THAN A WEEK- DEPENDING ON WHAT IT IS.

I have a toxic substance in my body that can kill me in HOURS. All I need to do is skip a few meals.

This was never in any document I ever read.

THE WESTERN MEDICAL ESTABLISHMENT WILL NOT ASSIST YOU IN FASTING, AND IS TRAINED TO ASSASSINATE PEOPLE VERSED IN FASTING.

FASTING is a Key to Health that cannot be Patented, Revulated, Controlled, Pilled, Injected, nor Billed.

It can end "BIG PHARMA."

REFUSAL TO TAKE PHARMACEUTICALS IS CLASSIFIED AS A MENTAL ILLNESS.

Attempt was made to reclassify me as a MENTAL CASE, after I was PROVEN by MEDICAL LABORATORY TESTS to have FULLY RECOVERED FROM MALARIA INFECTION WITHOUT TREATMENT.

BEING A PENTECOSTAL CHRISTIAN- experiencing Firsthand THE VOICE OF GOD and VISIONS is CLASSIFIED BY MEDICAL AUTHORITIES AS A SYMPTOM OF MENTAL DISEASE: "SCHIZOPHRENIC MALADY."

It should be obvious that ANTI-FULL GOSPEL UNDERCOVER AGENTS have infiltrated Medicine as " CHRISTIAN DOCTORS," to deliver these diagnoses.

As they have iniltrated the Nigerian Infrastructure to SABOTAGE it from within.

HOW DID I GET INTO THIS SITUATION?

BAD PARENTING!

My parents were GOOD NIGERIANS, but BAD PARENTS. "BAD" is an UNDERSTATEMENT.

My parents were "EVIL."

When I say "EVIL," I mean evil EVIL- not 1990s VERY GOOD "EVIL!"

At the age of SIX WEEKS, I was turned over to WHITE OYINBOS, who raised me as they wanted.

It became fashionable for people to complain of "PARENTAL ABUSE." My so-called "parents" PAID INSANE FOREIGNERS to abuse me, and my 2 years junior sister.

We grew up thinking that these Oyinbos were our natural parents.

I was three when my father came for me, to take me to this strange huge city called "London."

We lived in a town called SITTINGBOURNE, that was 70 miles from London.

There were two other Blacks living with me, besides my sister, ADETOLA, these were SADE, and much later, FEMI. They were cousins, the children of my father's brother BENSON IBUKUNOLA, and his wife BEATRICE.

My father FREDERICK came for me at age three, and I FLED IN TERROR at this BIGG, BLACKKK, MOTHER-CENSORED, who had come to take me away from the only mother I had ever known.

I FOUGHT DESPERATELY against being carried away by this TOTAL STRANGER, who looked like NOTHING I had ever seen before. First impressions can be very mistaken.

Not this time.

I cried all the way to London. I had no idea what was going to happen to me next.

He introduced me to this WEIRD-LOOKING... WOMAN?

She was BLACK, too.

The idea began to percolate: THERE WERE MORE OF US!!!

After returning me to this Oyinbo woman, I got to watch my terrified sister endure the same thing, on his next visit, as I escorted her to London with father by train. She cried too, as I tried to reassure her that everything was going to be all right.

My mother, Victoria Adeshote, married father in an Oyinbo church, the first of his two wives to do so.

My sister alleged that mother claimed not to know about these other wives back home, in Idanre- she apparently overheard her say that to someone else. She was not about telling us anything about anything.

We were returned to Sittingbourne, with no idea what this was all about.

What were "fathers?"

What was a "mother?"

We could spell those words, but had no idea what they really were.

"Surely we must have seen other fathers and mothers around?"

Of course- but we had no idea what these relationships meant.

"Where did babies come from?" we asked.

"STORKS bring them from Heaven," we were told. A "Stork" is a type of fisher bird.

The bird was said to carry the child in a sling suspended from its beak- a physical impossibility- but we could not know that. We were told to accept it- just like we were told to accept "FATHER CHRISTMAS."

I must have been eight, when the Foster Mother, ANNE NANCY SMITH gave me a short story to read, that gently explained that there was no such thing as SANTA CLAUS, a fat man on a red suit trimmed in red, who rode through the air on a Reindeer-drawn sleigh, climbing down chimneys to lay presents at the foot of CHRISTMAS TREE IDOLS.

This is an important turning point in an Oyinbo child's life: this is how they are to come to the conclusion that there is nothing supernatural in this World, and anyone who says that there is cannot be trusted.

At School Lunch, I tried to share my information with Oyinbo classmates.

"Miss!" one of them reported me, "Tun-dee (that was how they pronounced my name. Why? Even because THAT was how I had been taught to pronounce my own name. My sister was called "TOW-LAH." Our parents did nothing to correct that.) says that THERE IS NO SANTA CLAUS!!!"

"Oh," smiled the schoolteacher sweetly, "he is just being SILLY!"

I WAS CHRISTENED INTO THE ANGLICAN CHURCH.

I had no idea my whole life, why I did not have an "English" Christian name.

Then, during the 1990s, an old neighbour explained it to me.

"During 1960," a "Prof" Sijuwade told me, "our people were fighting for our independence- therefore, some of our people rejected Colonial Oyinbo names for their children..."

I had to be over 30 years of age to learn that?

In 1968, grandfather sent for father, that he was dying, and wanted him to succeed him: he was 144 at the time. He was the choice of the ARISTOCRACY: the CHIEFS.

However, the Common People, the "Peasantry," wanted his younger brother, and summoned him home.

So began a SEVEN-YEAR INTERREGNUM- a CIVIL COLD WAR that occasionally boiled over.

We children were not informed about what was going on.

We knew nothing about our parents' homeland, but the name- which meant nothing to us: "EDORRI PROVINCE."

Mother remained in London scraping by.

In 1969, she came for us, and we found ourselves presented to a court, some time after.

We later learned that this was a DIVORCE PROCEEDING, and father was being sued in absentia on grounds of "DESERTION."

OUR opinions on the matter were not invited.

I, for one, had no idea what "marriage," "parenthood," nor "family" meant.

I knew that Chickens hatched out of EGGS, grew up as Chicks, and became CHICKENS: but that was about it.

I had NO IDEA how ANIMALS were born.

At age seven, we did a course on SEX EDUCATION.

We got to see the naked bodies of the other gender for the first time.

SOMETHING WAS MISSING FROM THAT PRESENTATION, BECAUSE I HAD NO IDEA WHAT HUMAN REPRODUCTION WAS.

How do you have a "SEX EDUCATION" Course, where THEY NEVER TELL YOU what "SEX" means?

Interesting. Please continue oaroloye

TheSixthSense:
Interesting. Please continue oaroloye

Sorry. I have been trying to rest up here.

I was promised that I would be discharged this morning- but they are trying to weasel out of it, and put me on some unnecessary Therapy that does not address my real Physiological Problem, here.

If I had understood what Sex and Family really were, I would have known never to leave England for Nigeria.

Keeping me ignorant of basic information required the cooperative consensus of all of my parents' townspeople.

It emerged that my mother was the first girl born in ALADE-IDANRE- maybe even the first baby.

Therefore, EYES WOULD BE ON HER, and upon HER HUSBAND, whoever he might be- who turned out to be THE CROWN PRINCE in line of succession.

Eyes would also be upon their children.

I was, wouldn't you know, the last to learn these details about my own family. It seems that some people just love knowing things about people that they do not know about themselves- and not telling them.

This is how you know who your friends are.

I would really like to have gone into detail about my life in England, and the people I spent it with. My mother's illnesses after claiming us from Sittingbourne; the background could be interesting, even relevant.

I am really not at my best, right now.

In 1971, we came to Nigeria.

It appears the British government even paid our fare.

I did not particularly want to come to Nigeria.

What I knew about Nigeria was that small children staggered about naked in the villages, with clouds of houseflies buzzing on them or over them. That there was massive starvation.

I was in this.. ORPHANAGE? Boarding School, while mother was on admission for some sort of Nervous Breakdown(?)

JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS was on TV, and it got to the scene where the Sorcerer, CADMUS, sowed DRAGONS' TEETH in the ground, and they became an army of SKELETON SOLDIERS.

"Look!" shouted one Oyinbo boy, "THE BIAFRAN ARMY!!!"

We all laughed, like it was very funny.

I didn't know ZIP about the Nigerian Civil War.

Why should I?

WHO would tell me?

Mother, my sister, and myself, all had our British Passports, and our on tickets, with BRITISH CALEDONIAN AIRLINES, I believe my fare was £60.50, and mother's was £120.

We went to GATWICK AIRPORT- there were two London airports that I knew existed: HEATHROW and GATWICK; we went to Gatwick.

We should have all gone together, but, as if on the spur-of-the-moment, without any discussion with ME about it- not that she ever discussed ANYTHING with us- she handed me over to a COMPLETE STRANGER, named "OJO."

I remember that name, probably because I never had never heard such a name in my entire life. I maybe knew SIX Yoruba names by that point. Including mine, my sister's, my father's, our two cousins, two of father's brothers, a girl from Idanre who lived near us in Sittingbourne the whole time, who came to stay with us for a while- WHOSE IDENTITY WAS NEVER, EVER EXPLAINED TO ME. Her twin brother and sister lived with her, and I must have seen them at one point; they remembered me, but I never remembered anything about meeting them, even once.

I know I heard the twin sister's name enough times to remember hearing it in England- but I never remembered hearing the name "KEHINDE" before.

OJO lived somewhere near YABA, Lagos.

I know this, because we passed the distinctive PRESBYTERIAN Presbyterians Church landmark on the way to his house. After spending the night, he took me to Lagos Island, and the contact mother gave him: an address on BROAD STREET: No. 13. THE RENDEZEVOUS. It appeared to be a nightclub owned by a man called PRINCE MICHAEL OGUN.

What his relationship with my mother was, I can only guess at. He transferred me to an hotel he owned on TINUNBU Street(?) It was in a blue hi-rise building, managed by a kindly couple who may have been Lebanese.

A week later, mother and sister arrived to join me, and we went to my father's brother COLLAR'S house.

Years later, I was to learn that his name was in fact spelt "KOLA."

It is nice to have such things cleared up.

One day, Uncle Kola came home with a white FORD CORTINA on his tail. We knew whom THAT belonged to!

We had seen it in a picture sent my our father.

That was his car.

"I was just talking to Kola," he enthused, hugging us, "I was just saying to him: "I wonder how can I get Vicky and the children home?" Kola laughed, and said: "They're at my house! Come and see!"

So the first thing I hear out my dad's mouth in FIVE years, since I last see him is a big fat LIE.

But I was eleven, and didn't know from anything: what would you have believed?

oaroloye:
One day, Uncle Kola came home with a white FORD CORTINA on his tail. We knew whom THAT belonged to!

We had seen it in a picture sent my our father.

That was his car.

"I was just talking to Kola," he enthused, hugging us, "I was just saying to him: "I wonder how can I get Vicky and the children home?" Kola laughed, and said: "They're at my house! Come and see!"

So the first thing I hear out my dad's mouth in FIVE years, since I last see him is a big fat LIE.

But I was eleven, and didn't know from anything: what would you have believed?

My brother why do I sense something isnt right with you here? Why are you pouring your soul out for everyone brother? This is deeper than just words. Whats the matter?

MY BROTHER I HAVE READ UR COMPLAIN I UNDERSTAND TO THE PART OF SCHIZOPHRENIA WHICH IS RELATED TO HOLYSPIRIT IF YOU ARE REALLY DIAGNOSE THEN YOU ARE THE CHILD OF LIGHT,SHEEP AND THERE IS SOMETHING SECRET GOING ON AROUND YOU AND THE ONLY PERSON THAT CAN OPEN UR EYES IS JESUS CHRIST CUS THATS WHY HE IS ON THE EARTH RIGHT NOW FOR THE BLIND AND THE LOST SHEEP,SO STAND UP PUT ALL UR PROBLEM AT UR BACK PICK UP UR BIBLE ALWAYS READ THE WORD OF CHRIST ONLY SO YOU WILL NOT BE LED ASTRAY IF YOU TRULING DIAGNOSE FOR SCHIZO AND HEARD VOICE THEN UR 7CHAKRES IS OPEN THE GOoD GOD is calling u home please dont hate ur family they are not evil what u R experiencing is the signs of endtime only LOVE can stand you and is jesus christ if you are still going to church no problem but do not hate, go read gospel of john, i have said all this things but you might not understand now but if u go straight to God ur problem will be reveal clearly and if you truly love the good God u might be push out from the church for severed persecutions it is the lastdays my broda christ is on earth opening eyes n deaf ears but only his father can draw u to him and there r spiritual troubles that envelope one so my dear i have tell you all this not by fluke but a bond partaker of the suffering of jesus christ our lord may the God of love visit you.

bbfever:


My brother why do I sense something isnt right with you here? Why are you pouring your soul out for everyone brother? This is deeper than just words. Whats the matter?

I am at this time dying.

Literally.

No joke; no exaggeration.

oaroloye:


I am at this time dying.

Literally.

No joke; no exaggeration.

Sir, as much as believe what you've just said up here. i am hoping it doesn't happen yet. i think you still have a lot of things to deliver to our generation. please get well quickly. you're not permitted to go yet.

Our mother turned my sister and I over to our father, and we lived with him at ONDO for the rest of the year.

Come the New Year, however, he was transferred to the Ministry of Finance, Treasury Cash Office, Abeokuta, and we stayed at IBARRA, on Stadium road.

I was enrolled at OKE-ONA Grammar School.

I would have done WAY BETTER in school, if someone had, at some point, taken the time to EXPLAIN what the PURPOSE of SCHOOLING WAS! I had NO IDEA WHATSOEVER.

I had been ORDERED to go to school since I was FIVE.

No one EVER explained to me WHY I had to LEARN all this stuff. Why I had to sit exams and pass tests. My nanny seemed pleased when I had "Good Marks," and displeased when they were not so good.

I THOUGHT THAT STUDYING FOR AN EXAM WAS CHEATING.

I nearly DIED cutting grass for the first time in my life.

With a cutlass.

I had never heard of grass being cut in such a way before.

Also, was it not WRONG for PUPILS to be cutting grass around the school grounds? Was that not the GARDENER'S JOB.

I cut grass until my hands blistered.

I had never experienced blisters from manual labour before in my entire life. But the SUN was the WORST.

Even in SUMMER in England there was NO SUCH THING as SUNSHINE that was THIS intense.

The Mathematics teacher said I was "LAZY," and to keep working, OR HE WOULD BEAT ME.

I had never been beaten by a schoolteacher before until I was in the equivalent of Primary Five.

A fat Oyinbo kid named TERRY MILLS attacked me, during Arts & Crafts. bullying. So I picked up a pair of scissors, to defend myself. I was really not fit. I only knew about fighting from the receiving end, you know?

I was a great punchbag.

Kickbag, too.

Well, that day, I wasn't having any!

This pair of scissors was SO entering this fool's body- but the teacher- Mister Marshall- took them away from me- and HIT me! I had NEVER been struck by a teacher before!

I had never deserved to hit before, but maybe three times?

Once in Primary One, when I cut off a couple of inches of Jacqueline Sharples' long hair to see how scissors would work on THAT weird straight hair. They complained to my Nanny, and it was explained to me that you just don't DO that. Got it.

Again, I stole a chocolate bar, that was just lying on the floor, amid a pile of others. I was told to wait in that room, while they found me some gym shoes.

It was a set-up.

As soon as I pocketed the bar- that could not have been sold, because the paper wrapper was torn- the door flew open, and the boy who had escorted me here said:

"GOT YOU!"

He took me to the Headmaster- Nigel Bore- and he asked me whether I had really done what I was accused of. I told him, Yes, I had.

I expected to be punished somehow, but I was dismissed.

When I went home, my nanny asked me a strange question:

Had anything happened at school today.

Well, yes. They promised me gym shoes. (I never got those shoes.) They put me in this room with all these chocolate bars on the floor, and I picked one up, and they took me to the headmaster.

Nancy Smith was very angry.

She yelled that I had "showed her up!"

I got an epic beating for that.

She had a strip of leather like a belt, just for beating us kids- me, "Tundeey,"""Towlah," and "Shadey."

The thing wore out, or something, so she replaced it with a strip of black rubber, I have no idea where she got it from.

I hated the leather least.

Once on a school excursion, to CHESAPEAKE ZOO? I spent all my money on amusements, and tried to steal an extra boat ride, by stepping into a pedal boat some other fellow was already in.

Classmate SHANE HEALEY very sensibly tried to hold me back, but he couldn't hold my weight, the boat floated back and I fell into an unknown depth of water.

I could not swim an inch- where could I have learned?

An Oyinbo lad jumped in and rescued me instantly.

I doubt if he knew that the water was only four feet deep, either. If it were forty feet, he would not have cared.

That is how Oyinbos of THAT type are.

I never learned his name.

Nor did he care that I was black- that was pretty good character for 1968!

Father told a story of one of our people who was transporting a refrigerator on top of his car on the motorway- and it fell off!

He got down to pick it up, and an Oyinbo totalled him!

He saw that it was only an N-word.

If it had been a fellow Oyinbo, he would have avoided him, of course.

So, it was very good of this Oyinbo to rescue me.

I was asked what happened, and all I could think of was the beating Anne Smith was going to give me when she heard what had happened.

Therefore, I LIED, and said that SHANE HEALEY had pushed me in. I have no idea what HE said in his defense.

The Headmaster heard me out, when we got back to school. He asked me whether I wanted to get Shane in trouble.

I said that I did not.

(That should have proven to him that I was lying; there should have been some Social Worker to investigate WHY I should have lied- and found out about the horrible abuse I, my sister, and cousin were undergoing. What can I say? Sixties!)

I told Mrs. Smith my side of events.

She was interested to know what I had done with the pound she had given me. She was disappointed that I had not thought to bring her back a souvenir. I never thought of it.

She suggested that I had lost the money when I went in the water. I told her truthfully that, no, I had spent it all.

To my surprise, she did not do anything to me.

I had perjured myself for nothing; she was not THAT bad!

(This is the first and only time in my life I remember that I ever told a lie on someone.)

Another time, we were having tryouts for the Team, and Nigel Bore was acting as coach. We were ordered to stand in place, and NOT talk.

I remarked to Shane Healey that I was going to kick the ball like Captain Scarlet in TV21 Comic book- pow!

Mr. Bore turned around, and said,

"ARROW-LOI- OFF!"

That is how my career as a British Footballer started and ended. I never learned to play.

I could have grown up to be a great player.

A BEATING for TALKING would have been NOTHING, next to ruining my one chance to get into the game.

The Oyinbo kids did not want me to play with them- so I never learned to play.

Take it easy man. Hope all is well Sir?

oaroloye:


I am at this time dying.

Literally.

No joke; no exaggeration.

I had a severe headache, and could barely stand, but the Maths teacher, Mr. MAJEKODUNMI (no, that was really his name! I never, until this moment, connected the irony!) refused to allow me to go sit down and rest.

He said I was "Ole."

(Also ironic.)

I knew what was happening to me, because of a Bible story: this was Sunstroke: aka. Brain-turning-to-Moin-Moin.

I was rescued by the AGRICULTURAL SCIENCE Teacher, OGINNI (I still have no idea whatsoever THAT name means,);a dark man of relatively smallish stature. He saw what was happening, and overruled the Mathematics Teacher.

He ordered me carried indoors at once!

The COOL of that room was like AIR-CONDITIONING. I don't think there was even a fan in that classroom. I began to recover.

I really could have DIED that morning.

I really believe Mr. Majekodunmi did not know what he was doing, when he subjected me to that torture. He had no training, nor experience, nor intelligence to handle a Black kid who had never been in the Tropics before.

I doubt I made it to eleven o'clock.


(I had never even owned a wristwatch in my life... so I had no idea what the exact time was.)

Mother did not show up, until about three years later. Father had been transferred to Ilesha. We lived in the Treasury Cash Office building between the Post Office and the Market.

Best for me, we were but a quarter mile from the Town Square, and there was a library there.

I got to read everything that interested me.

The worst thing about being in Nigetia for me was that THERE WAS NOBODY TO TALK TO OF MY INTELLECTUAL CAPACITY.

I am not talking about INTELLIGENCE- there were plenty of children around my age, who were more intelligent than myself. I like to think.

However, the SCOPE of their MINDS was VERY LIMITED.

Schoolchildren did not generally read anything that was not related to their classwork. Novels were cheap- JAMES HADLEY CHASE, NICK CARTER, JAMES BOND, JOHN MacDONALD.

But when I read them, I was looking at a quite different book than what most of my classmates read. They could not process but a fraction of what they were reading.

They could not understand, for instance, VIGILANTISM: why would some adventurer, say, TRAVIS McGEE, travel across-country to track down a killer of someone he did not even know?

At his own expense- nobody paying him!

A Nigerian would be like:

"Well- he is jobless!"

That is not how OYINBOS see it- or, at least, the Oyinbos I was familiar with would have seen it.

They were raised on the idea of complete strangers happening on an Atrocity- people being killed or oppressed- and setting things right. Even if the strangers were CHILDREN- taking down Bad Guys with greater power and resources than themselves.

Even going against their own family and friends to expose some hidden evil!

Is any of this making sense to you?

If HARRY POTTER had been set in NIGERIA, he would have eithet used his powers to win the USA VISA LOTTERY, then win the POWERBALL- or else joined forces with VOLTRONMORE- or whatever they called his name, and ruled the whole CONTINENT.

Many Nigerians surely saw no rational reason why neither of those things happened.

I have NEVER found a single Nigerian SPIDER-MAN Fan, BEFORE OR AFTER the Movies, under the age of 30, perhaps, who could explain WHY HE FIGHTS CRIME.

Other Superheroes were never supposed to make sense, or else were obvious. But SPIDER-MAN was one of the few Superheroes who never wanted to be a hero... WHAT CHANGED HIM?

Most kiddies grow up over the years, cheering "Spidey," as he swung through the city, beating on Bad Guys- without questioning WHY he should be so concerned with other people's safety at the cost of his own.

There was a time when OYINBOS understood this principle very well.

"The thing I always admired about you, Rayfer, is that it was always very simple to you: it was always The Good Guys versus The Bad Guys- and you would never work for The Bad Guys!" - THE WILD GEESE.

Now, I am not sure these OYINBOS we have today are the same people! These are a CRIMINAL CONSENSUS. It is like the heroes and nation-builders I was educated to look up to and respect were just a FRONT for UNBELIEVABLE EVIL that the Normal Brain cannot PROCESS.

For instance, you all heard the rumour that OYINBO Scientists created AIDS.

That is not the Problem: the REAL Problem is the number of OYINBO Doctors and Scientists who STEPPED UP to COVER UP the fact that AIDS was MAN-MADE!

[See: EMERGING VIRUSES, by Leonard Horowitz.]

Or let's talk about something less esoteric, with much less complicated Science to understand.

The NASA Space Missions APOLLO and the INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION.

These are SCIENTIFICALLY-IMPOSSIBLE.

The evidence is OVERWHELMING- search YOUTUBE for relevant clips and documentaries.

Yet you have RESPECTED Oyinbo Scientists vouching for their authenticity, and IGNORING the PROOF.

Time was, when Professionals would have walked off the job in MILLIONS, in protest at being made part of a FRAUD against the public.

Maybe that is what has happened, and only the CROOKS remain.

Maybe there were NEVER such Oyinbos of Integrity.

How many of you know what the TUSKEGEE EXPERIMENT was?

Yet, I hear this all the time- FROM PEOPLE WHO ARE AFFECTED BY THESE BRUTAL TACTICS:

"HISTORY IS NOT RELEVANT! WE DON'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN THE PAST!"

These are what "CHRISTIANS" have told me.

I have never been told that by MUSLIMS.

Nonetheless, I have found them as ignorant as anybody.

HOW CAN A MUSLIM NOT KNOW WHAT "THE HOLOCAUST" WAS?

Also that it has been PROVEN to be FAKED?

HOW CAN A MUSLIM NOT KNOW WHAT "OPERATION AJAX" WAS?

When your mind is AWARE of all these things going on remotely, but people near you DON'T GIVE A DAMN- how can you be happy with your country?

Well, I have given it a shot.

Hasn't worked well for me.

oaroloye:
I had a severe headache, and could barely stand, but the Maths teacher, Mr. MAJEKODUNMI (no, that was really his name! I never, until this moment, connected the irony!) refused to allow me to go sit down and rest.

He said I was "Ole."

(Also ironic.)

I knew what was happening to me, because of a Bible story: this was Sunstroke: aka. Brain-turning-to-Moin-Moin.

I was rescued by the AGRICULTURAL SCIENCE Teacher, OGINNI (I still have no idea whatsoever THAT name means,);a dark man of relatively smallish stature. He saw what was happening, and overruled the Mathematics Teacher.

He ordered me carried indoors at once!

The COOL of that room was like AIR-CONDITIONING. I don't think there was even a fan in that classroom. I began to recover.

I really could have DIED that morning.

I really believe Mr. Majekodunmi did not know what he was doing, when he subjected me to that torture. He had no training, nor experience, nor intelligence to handle a Black kid who had never been in the Tropics before.

I doubt I made it to eleven o'clock.

I had never even owned a wristwatch in my life...

Wow, wonderful story! Wish u speedy recovery, but I'd advise u turn ur story into a book, even if that's d last thing u do, u cld commission some1 to do it.
Don't stop, keep pouring ur heart out if it makes u feel better, cheers bro.

In my 4th year, mother showed up suddenly.

I was enrolled at ILESHA GRAMMAR SCHOOL- an excellent Grammar School, by local standards- A SICK JOKE BY ENGLISH STANDARDS.

Mother showed up st a time that father was away to Idanre, in his never-ending-battle to wrest the throne from his brother, my uncle Benson.

He had promised to take me with him, but then changed his mind at the literally last minute: I was dressed up in my one set of best clothes Buba & Soro, with a cap- then he would suddenly say that I was no more going.

I would hiwl and cry (I was 14- what would you have done?) but he would be unrelenting, and leave me at home with the two wives he had with him, and their four or five children, and the couple of chief's sons, who would be future Palace Staff...

And dunce Tola.

Therefore, when mother showed up in the holidays, and offered to take me to Lagos with her, I was happy to go. I felt I had a right to go holiday with my own mother.

I was going, so, Tola had to come too.

We went to the Motor Park up after the Town Square.

No one saw us off.

I had my first inkling that this would go badly, when I saw she had a housemaid waiting for her at the Motor Park the whole time. With a baby.

I had a slight knowledge of how these things worked, now -I was in form four, and had read STONE & COZENS and EWUSIE.

"WHO IS HIS FATHER?" I asked mother.

She did not answer me, and ignored my question.

If I had had a working knowledge of the World in general, Africa in particular, and Nigeria specifically, I would have turned around and marched back home- immediately!

Understand- out of my fourteen years of life, I had gotten to know my mother only three of them.

They were hardly the absolute best years of my life- and she was hospitalized on an off for months on end, so we were fostered by the state- which, come to think of it, really was better then the life we had cooped up with her.

But I still preferred life with her than with my Step- Mothers, YINDASOLA and AGNES (whom, at this time, I do not even know whether they are alive after the 24 years I saw them last. By the way, DID I MENTION THAT HE BEAT HIS WIVES?)

So, I went to Lagos with my mother.

Idiots.

The ALL of us.

I got to spend the rest of the holiday with my mother.

She worked as the Secretarial Studies teacher at something called the YABA POLYTECHNIC COLLEGE(?), ONIKE. I believe it backed the QUEEN'S COLLEGE.

It appears she was the principal's mistress- I cannot recall his name at this time. He was an older smallish guy. The other female staff did not approve.

But she had another boyfriend, his name was NELSON COLE. There was a man callest PRINCE WOLE MARTINS she knew whom I took for her Lawyer. I do not believe we went to see the nightclub owner Prince MICHAEL OGUN again.

Eventually, it ended, and I had to go home to papa.

I said.

Father was not thrilled that I had run off to Lagos with Mother- and contrived to leave my sister with her.

I totally expected to be thrashed within an inch of my life.

Father said, however, THESE loving words I shall never forget, all my life:

"TOMORROW, YOUR PUNISHMENT BEGINS!"

However, the expected beating did not materialize.

I sweated it out, until Mother came along, in all her glory- on foot- to come and tell father how it was going to be.

TOLA would be staying with her in Lagos, "because the schools there were better."

It was true: her command of English was horrible. You could not tell that she had grown up in England.

But I, however, had been forbidden by father to learn Yoruba: "TO PRESERVE MY ENGLISH."

If I had been a bit more intelligent, I should have seen through this ruse. There are things I would hear in Yoruba language that I would not hear in English. Things neither of THEM wanted me to understand.

Until it was too late.

Mother"s brilliant plan was that I, who had been a "DAY STUDENT" my whole life, should now become a "BOARDER."

"To enable me to READ BETTER."

This was, however, a LIE; the "REAL" reason was so that SHE could have access to ME, without having to go through Father.

THAT however was NOT the real reason, either.

I did not realize what her true purpose was, until many years later.

I had no idea what sort of woman my own mother was. I knew how father was- or so I thought- that should have been my clue.

Father said that, since my boarding was not his idea, she should pay for it. She agreed.

So I moves to the boarding house of Ilesha Grammar School.

I was doing well enough, but then father came to get me. We had stopped hearing from her.

Broken promises of parents was nothing new to ME. But on the way to Lagos, he told me a weird story.

My mother had disappeared, and left my sister, Tola, on the streets, until she was picked up by the Police outside an hotel. She had gone off with some guy, and left her alone.

We were now going to a Children's Home to get her. Didn't I think that that was a funny story?

I replied that I did not.

Father looked at me sharply.

I thought it most serious, I told him, and not "funny," at all.

oaroloye:


I am at this time dying.

Literally.

No joke; no exaggeration.

You will not die. You will not die. Do not accept or confess it.

contra:


Sir, as much as believe what you've just said up here. i am hoping it doesn't happen yet. i think you still have a lot of things to deliver to our generation. please get well quickly. you're not permitted to go yet.

Exactly. He is not pernitted to go yet.

Oh My dear, you have endured hardship. Words fail me. Am so so sorry. Ah, but you shd live, your experience shd be an encouragement to someone. Pls dont die yet.

You write beautifully though!
Your story would pass for a fiction but so sad its real.
After the end of your story, i will like to ask a few questions.

Stay blessed

SHALOM!

Anas09:

You will not die. You will not die. Do not accept or confess it.

Thank you for your well-wishing.

I am well-versed in Divine Healing Technique.

If I wished to employ that I could get off this sick bed THIS HOUR. No drugs. No nothing.

However, these things come with a PRICE.

I WOULDN'T BE THE ONE PAYING THE PRICE.

YOU people would.

Once the Power I am singlehandedly HOLDING BACK enters the World, THE REAL WAR BEGINS.

Ignoring The Truth will no longer be an option.

People will be converted AGAINST THEIR WILL.

Christian Hypocrites- misled by smarter men than them, UNJUST STEWARDS- will die.

I would rather risk dying at this point, even at the risk of HELL FIRE for myself, than bring this Judgment down on my own people- lazy and wicked as you all are.

SHALOM!

shadeyinka:
You write beautifully though!

English is my first language.

I have been Speaking, Reading, and Writing English for more than fifty years.

Your story would pass for a fiction but so sad its real.

The point is: THESE THINGS DO GO ON; I'm just a person who is SPEAKING UP about it.

I am AMAZED at how practically EVERYONE I KNOW says:

"GIVE YOUR FATHER WHAT HE WANTS!

COMPROMISE! DEAL! RECONCILE!

THEN HE'LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT!"

No. Sorry: "Fool me once; shame on you.

Fool me twice; shame on me!"

Fool me THREE times? CATSCAN is recommended- but tapping on the head with a rubber hammer is much faster, and less expensive.

I WAS RAISED TO BE AN ENGLISHMAN.

There are different types, to be sure- but I was raised to be HONOURABLE: to do THE RIGHT THING- but not by my parents.

Nor by my "countrymen."

After the end of your story, i will like to ask a few questions.

Stay blessed

No guarantee I will BE here even long enough to finish this "story."

I am not a BLESSED person.

This is NOT a BLESSED Life.

Ask your questions while you can.

An attempt was made to spirit me away to a PSYCHO WARD last week. I don't know whether my father was behind it or not.

Ask what you want to ask HERE, or email me.

We got to Lagos, and getting to this state Orphanage, or whatever it was... A REMAND HOME- I remember now- it was definitely a REMAND HOME.

Tola saw father and ran toward him, crying.

I did not understand any of this.

WHERE WAS MOTHER?

How could she leave her daughter in this condition?

THE STORY SHE TOLD WAS:

She was never sent to any school, but replaced the house girl mother had to look after her two illegitimate children.

On the fateful night, mother left her 13 year old daughter outside a prestigious hotel- I think it was the IKEJA AIRPORT HOTEL? While she went inside with one "UNCLE PETER."

She loitered around until she was picked up by the Police, who could not substantiate her story, nor locate mother.

She was therefore hauled off to the REMAND HOME.

Her English had degraded to where you could never tell she had spent the first nine years of her life in England.

The HUGE PLOT HOLE in her story was: SHE GAVE THE POLICE A FALSE NAME.

Had they known her SURNAME, or MOTHER'S, she could have been reunited with her MOTHER or her FATHER in a matter of hours.

This made no sense.

THE RABBIT HOLE GOES DEEPER.

Mother's immediate brother, JOSEPH, who lived in Lagos himself, "JUST HAPPENED" to see TOLA'S PICTURE in a Newspaper Advert on MISSING CHILDREN.

There are aspects of this story that I just SWALLOWED like a FOOL- because I had no reason to believe my FLESH-AND-BLOOD fellow BLACKS could POSSIBLY be LYING to ME.

Why would he even know Tola was MISSING?

The image didn't look like her that much- and it wasn't her NAME.

When the truth came out, why didn't the Police check out the ROYAL POLYTECHNIC COLLEGE, YABA, where she worked as a teacher of SECRETARIAL STUDIES?

Why did Uncle Joseph try to collect her himself, BEFORE informing father?

Father went to Lagos, but when he claimed she had a sibling, they wanted to see ME, too, before they released her.

After she was released to us, father said to me:

"That should have been YOU down there!"

I thought at the time that he was blaming ME, because it was my idea that we follow our natural mother to Lagos. My bad.

I did not know what more there was to this story than that- BUT MY OWN SISTER REFUSED TO TELL ME ANYTHING MORE.

What a shock.

It would be SEVENTEEN YEARS before I was able to piece together what had probably REALLY happened.

This is a FAILURE of JOURNALISM of this country. In ENGLAND, reporters would not have taken SEVENTEEN DAYS to find out the truth.

With MODERN TECHNOLOGY?

Probably seventeen HOURS...

I finished my fourth form, but father was transferred from ILESHA to ADO-EKITI.

The Ilesha Grammar School Principal, J.A. ONI, who did not like me, was replaced by a CHIEF FAGBENRO, who HATED me.

When the school year started, I waited for mother to come and pay for my BOARDING fees, as well as EXPLAIN her treatment of Tola.

She never showed, and never wrote.

FATHER SAID THAT HE HAD NEVER AGREED TO PAY FOR MY BOARDING FEES- AND HE WOULDN'T. If mother never turned up, all he would pay was my Day Student Tuition fees- and the WAEC Exam fee.

More than that, he would not do.

I knew that father needed every Kobo to fight Hus never-ending Monarchy Battle, and sacrifices had to be made. We had been eating at home twice per day.

My father and his brothers were all giants- six foot up. I am 5'7." Sacrifices.

When my mother was a no-show, the principal, Chief Fagbenro, gleefully informed me, that if my Boarding Fees were not paid, I would not only be driven out of the Boarding House, I would not be allowed to attend classes- even though my Tuition Fees for THOSE were paid.

I was used to being driven out of school, because father was late with the fees. Still, the FULL INJUSTICE of this situation has never hit home to me until I have had to remember it, to write it up here.

At the time, I was happy that that meant that I would miss his cruel and pointless punishments.

Any excuse would do.

Once, he accused me of picking up a CHAMELEON LIZARD- maybe four inches long in the body- and chasing other students with it.

I would never do such a thing.

I had never won a fight in my life- except against the bullying TERRY MILLS, who I had tries to STAB with a scissors in Self-Defense, and was HIT for the first and only time ever, by an English Schoolteacher.

"You NEVER attack an UNARMED PERSON with a WEAPON!" he said.

His name was Mr. MARSHALL.

When I lived in a Home in Croydon, during mother's illness, he escorted us on the train to school.

Good man.

This was the ONLY time I ever saw him lose it.

I think he had been RAF- during the WAR.

"You NEVER do that!" he said.

"But he-!" I began.

"No excuse!" he cut me off. "Now apologize to him!"

"But HE'S the one who-!"

"...and SHAKE on it!"

I apologized, and shook my assailant's hand.

I did not see the importance if what I had just been taught, until many years later.

However, I was about to get a lesson in English DISHONOUR- as I was on my way home- about a mile away, along the THAMES- this area was called VAUXHALL. We lived near the BRIDGE.

CHELSEA was across the river.

I never went there.

TERRY MILLS and his friends, GRANT and RICHARD SEYMOUR blocked my way out.

What it was, see, was that I had attacked their gang member, see? So I was not leaving, until him and me had settled this once and for all.

This fellow looked like THE KINGPIN from Marvel Universe 616- you know?

I was more like... AUNT MAY could have taken ME out. I was so going to DIE.

I never saw a Chinese Film my whole life.

I jumped in, and punched the one target STEVIE WONDER could not have missed.

That damn GUT!

I punched that blubber for all I was worth.

Must have rained twenty-five punches in ten seconds.

Terry rocked back on his tree-trunk legs.

Everyone was paralyzed with shock.

I whirled, and ran past them to the gate-!

I was out and on the street, running home as fast as my little feet could carry me.

Next day, Grant and Richard informed me that I has won the fight- because Terry had broken down crying after I ran away.

WOULD I LIKE TO JOIN THEIR GANG?

No, I said.

I would not like to join their gang.

THEREFORE, THE IDEA THAT I WOULD PROVOKE TOUGH, LOCAL BLACKS TO FIGHT, CHASING THEM WITH A LITTLE LIZARD, WAS PREPOSTEROUS.

"I SAW YOU!" thundered Chief Fagbenro.

His balcony was 200 yards from the hostel.

Presuming the best eyesight in the World, such a thing would be IMPOSSIBLE to determine.

On this excuse he sentenced me to do GARDENING SLAVE LABOUR.

Another time, he sentenced me to Labour for coming to Sunday chapel with BLUE shorts, instead of WHITE.

"It is an INSULT TO GODDD!" he bellowed.

I didn't HAVE white shorts.

So I has to go cut and pull weeds with my bare hands?

They were building something- weren't they paid by the state for professional labourers?

Therefore, being driven out of school didn't hurt THAT much.

It might have hurt more, if someone had EXPLAINED to me what a WAEC EXAM was.

oaroloye:
SHALOM!



English is my first language.

I have been Speaking, Reading, and Writing English for more than fifty years.



The point is: THESE THINGS DO GO ON; I'm just a person who is SPEAKING UP about it.

I am AMAZED at how practically EVERYONE I KNOW says:

"GIVE YOUR FATHER WHAT HE WANTS!

COMPROMISE! DEAL! RECONCILE!

THEN HE'LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT!"

No. Sorry: "Fool me once; shame on you.

Fool me twice; shame on me!"

Fool me THREE times? CATSCAN is recommended- but tapping on the head with a rubber hammer is much faster, and less expensive.

I WAS RAISED TO BE AN ENGLISHMAN.

There are different types, to be sure- but I was raised to be HONOURABLE: to do THE RIGHT THING- but not by my parents.

Nor by my "countrymen."



No guarantee I will BE here even long enough to finish this "story."

I am not a BLESSED person.

This is NOT a BLESSED Life.

Ask your questions while you can.

An attempt was made to spirit me away to a PSYCHO WARD last week. I don't know whether my father was behind it or not.

Ask what you want to ask HERE, or email me.

Personally i wouldnt want to ask you anything as questions are not what i think you require at this point but a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on. Life has been tough on a lot of us...some more than others.

I do not know how to place your sufferings and trials in life but a trial is a trial and must not be seen as common place.

Even though i said i would not ask a question it just occurred to me that there just might be one question that would in a way be like a warm hug on a cold winter or a hot meal in an empty stomach.

What would you like us to do to make you feel better or to at least put a smile on your face.

Pray tell!

oaroloye:
SHALOM!



Thank you for your well-wishing.

I am well-versed in Divine Healing Technique.

If I wished to employ that I could get off this sick bed THIS HOUR. No drugs. No nothing.

However, these things come with a PRICE.

I WOULDN'T BE THE ONE PAYING THE PRICE.

YOU people would.

Once the Power I am singlehandedly HOLDING BACK enters the World, THE REAL WAR BEGINS.

Ignoring The Truth will no longer be an option.

People will be converted AGAINST THEIR WILL.

Christian Hypocrites- misled by smarter men than them, UNJUST STEWARDS- will die.

I would rather risk dying at this point, even at the risk of HELL FIRE for myself, than bring this Judgment down on my own people- lazy and wicked as you all are.

Okay, that will be nice.

oaroloye:
SHALOM!



Thank you for your well-wishing.

I am well-versed in Divine Healing Technique.

If I wished to employ that I could get off this sick bed THIS HOUR. No drugs. No nothing.

However, these things come with a PRICE.

I WOULDN'T BE THE ONE PAYING THE PRICE.

YOU people would.

Once the Power I am singlehandedly HOLDING BACK enters the World, THE REAL WAR BEGINS.

Ignoring The Truth will no longer be an option.

People will be converted AGAINST THEIR WILL.

Christian Hypocrites- misled by smarter men than them, UNJUST STEWARDS- will die.

I would rather risk dying at this point, even at the risk of HELL FIRE for myself, than bring this Judgment down on my own people- lazy and wicked as you all are.

As much as I agree to some of the things you've written, I don't agree that your divine healing will come with a price. I'm sure you're not the only one of your kind in the world. you'll be surprised that others like you exist.

Following your posts. it appears you're a practical man with vast knowledge, however you must agree with me that you don't know EVERYTHING and surely the implication of you activating divine healing is one.

I feel there's still much you've to offer the world. for one, you need to teach people some (if not all) of the things you know practically. You need to practically empty yourself to the world before you can decide to die. until then sir, you're not permitted.

And no, you're not NOT a blessed man. you're blessed and have been a blessing to many, so many you dont even know.

I'm hoping i will not see any other comment about you not finishing your write up or knowledge transfer before you decide to die.

thank you for your understanding and cooperation.