LAURETTA IS PRESIDENT

Many kicked when she first began. They thought it was something that can never reach political efficacy. To them, it would take Armageddon before Lauretta could win. But they were wrong. There was no Armageddon and Lauretta won.

Her supporters waxed poetic; they chanted songs. Some others used graphics. A few stood aloof, mute. But as far as they were concerned, Lauretta must be preached.

Lauretta became a philosophy. She was not just an aspirant. She was a brand. Everyone abandoned their books. Both the scholars and the not so scholarly. To them, even if this was not Prof. Ray’s pharmacology, yet they couldn’t afford to carry this over.

I thought pharmacy was apolitical. But I was wrong. So was also all the political apparatchik who thought pharmacy students wouldn’t abandon their books. We were disappointed. It was a

good disappointment.

Her campaign train alone was made up of more than 400 pharmacy students. Someone, a student from the social sciences, said, ‘if pharmacy students could suspend their classes and books to come out like this for this lady, then they must have seen something in her’.

The crowd was so intimidating that when the campaign got to the faculty of Engineering, they prevented us from passing through their faculty. They were like the Edomites who refused the Children of Israel passage through their country to the promise land. Although Pharmacy students were not coming from Egypt but they were surely en-route to their promise land. Political promise land. The embryo Engineers beckoned to the President of PANS to turn his crowd around. But pharmacy refused. What could have led to a blood bath was addressed quickly. It took the Chief Security Officer to calm things down. PDP and APC supporters ought to learn from these students; it is not all the time you use bullets and axes to settle disputes. Sometimes, words can be cheaper and safer.

PSN also need to draw some quantum of Knowledge from these students. They should know when to join forces to win the bigger battle. Before now, the faculty wasn’t settled, politically. But when a common purpose was seen, they abandoned their differences. That was intelligence. Intelligence is knowing when to lose a battle for the common good. If these set of students join the PSN in coming years, then all the political upheaval currently brandishing the PSN would be gone. It is just a matter of time. Sorry for the digression. Back to Lauretta.

Lauretta expressed her calm and commandeered her campaign. Something is different about her. She knows when to say what to say. Speaking softly and intelligently when needed.

Hear her words to those gender-unequal minds; “To all those who have skepticism about a female being a president. This is for you; ‘Read the Bible, learn about the story of Deborah; behold, another Deborah is standing in front of you today’. I bear the plight of a woman and understands the pains of a man. Leadership is not about gender. Women and men can be good leaders. Watch me as I take UNIBEN to glory and you will thank me later.”

What about Samuel Ugwumba? The self-styled Lena. He is the numero uno of PANS politics. He speaks like a cleric. He connived with his repartee to rejig the mindset of pharmacy students. He is calm and halcyon. Someone has said, ‘If you want to have a quarrel with Lena, never allow him speak first, because after he is done, you may be the one apologizing’. I don’t care what you belief, but if Lena had not stepped in when he did, Lauretta would be somewhere counting her losses. He deserves a standing ovation.

And for the PANS president Benjamin Idiakhoa, he is crème de la crème. With his integrity he sought the support of other faculties. He carries with him the excellent mien of a reputable speaker. He soon lost his voice during the elections. He led PANS into victory. He can now dust his shoulder and breathe an air of relief as he has achieved the not-so-popular.

Time would fail to mention all others. But know this, your names have been written in marbles. You have written the history of pharmacy in UNIBEN. When this page would be open in ages to come, it will be said, you made IMPACT 2016 a reality. Gracias. Lauretta is now President SUG UNIBEN.

Ezekiel Efeobhokhan

500 level Pharmacy

SPOKEN WORDS COMPETITION

Hope for African Girls Initiative presents A Spoken Words Competition with the theme; Girls not BRIDES; Your Call

We are pleased to announce our Spoken Word Competition aimed at gathering the advocacy message of young people aged 18-28 on the subject of Girl Child Marriage. We want to find the most powerful and compelling poetic responses to one of the biggest threats of our time, and to make sure that younger voices are part of the debate and are heard as we mount efforts to put an end to this scourge in Africa and beyond.

Can you get young girls to imagine how they might live their lives differently? Can you move people to think about their future, and to want to change it? We’re running a spoken word competition to find the most powerful and compelling poetic responses to one of the biggest threats of our time.

We are calling on young people between the ages of 18 - 28 to write and perform a spoken word poem that responds to Girl Child Marriage

Your submission should be a written poem that you will perform at the final round of the Competition, It should be between 50 – 400 words. You will be short-listed on the written piece and judged on based on the number of Votes and feedback from the audience.

The final will be a live performance of your work. The deadline for entries is midnight on May 30th 2016. The competition kicks off on 1st June and ends on the 20th (Voting ends on 12am, on the 20th of June) The winner will be contacted via email to attend the GIRL not BRIDE event in Lagos on 25th of June where he will be given a trophy and a cash prize of 100,000

Judges: Your work will be professionally judged by 3 professional spoken word artists known for their work.

The shortlisted poet (Winner) will receive a fee of N100,000 for this performance and a professionally filmed and edited video of their performance.

The winner will be widely promoted on our networks and the networks involved in this competition.

All entries will join a global campaign encouraging people to take a bold step in putting a stop on Girl Child Marriage

The Time Is Now! Get your voice heard.

To enter send your spoken words to haginitiative@gmail.com marked #GirlsnotBrides with your name, age, email address and telephone number before midnight on May30th. Please also tell us how you heard about this competition.

All entries must be between 50 - 400 words and applicants must be between the ages of 18 - 28.

The competition is open to both Genders.

SPOKEN WORDS COMPETITION

Application is now open for the 2016 Girl's Empowerment Seminar scheduled to hold on 25th of June 2016 at Lagos.

Theme: "Girls not BRIDES" Your Call

To be hosted by Hope for African Girls Initiative (HAGi)

Students from any African Tertiary Institutions are eligible to apply. Send in your application to Haginitiative@gmail.com giving reason(s) why you wish to attend the Seminar.

Application closes by January 20 June, 2016

This event will promote not only healthy self-esteem and self-image, but also provide practical tools for overcoming many of the issues that affect today's young girls such as:

Child Marriage

Peer Pressure

Purpose in life

Being different is okay and so much more!

We invite young girls to REGISTER; ages 18-24 years old to this fun-filled day. The seminar will start at 10am and last through 5pm. We will provide lunch and the girls will also receive a gift bag at the end of the event.

Register TODAY and take advantage of this great opportunity.

These young girls are our future, as such we encourage fellow Organizations to partner with us in making this seminar a true success and transform their lives. You can get involved by volunteering your time or making a financial donation to sponsor a young girl. We are confident that with your support, we will be able to watch their lives change before our eyes.

Our skilled and trained staff are so excited for the opportunity to interact with young girls. Please pass this invite along to anyone you know that might be interested.

This event is totally Free of Charge but strictly by Invitation.

For more details

Contact: 08139743651

Apply quickly

Limited scholarships are available.

Students from any African Tertiary Institutions are eligible to apply. Send in your application to Haginitiative@gmail.com giving reason(s) why you wish to attend the Seminar.

Application closes by 20 June, 2016.

ESE ORURU:THE BLAME GAME

ESE ORURU: THE BLAME GAME.

The parents of Ese should be blamed for carelessly exposing Ese to such criminal elements as Yunusa. It is common how parents use their children as employees. Instead of letting them rest after school hours, they bring them to the shop in order to help them run the family business, thereby cutting cost. Ese’s case was no difference. Instead being in the house studying, Ese was always in the shop with ‘mama’. Thereby making her a perfect prey for unscrupulous elements like Yunusa. This will not only increase the risk of becoming wild and precocious but will negatively affect their academics.

The Bayelsa state government should close its mouth in shame; it could not stand up for the rights of its citizen who also happen to be a minor. The federal government, with all the awareness created by the media about Ese remained mute about the subject, no public statement about it. Too bad. Even if silence can be the best type of response sometimes, yet silence can also show indifference and cluelessness. Comments from the president especially being the number one citizen and a Muslim would have made a lot difference. You don’t need to steal government fund before you are corrupt. The act by Yunusa is corruption. Just as Sam Omatseye puts it, “It is a corruption of childhood, of law, of religion and of natural rights”.

The Emir of Kano and the Emirate council acted very late. Ese, remained in his custody all through her estrangement from her parents. That made him guilty. Very guilty. A girl was abducted and brought to your palace; and all we hear after months of her imprisonment is a public statement denying the fact that she wasn’t married off and that the police didn’t obey your order. It’s a belated response sir. Very belated. If any of those excuse were valid, then we would have heard the news about Ese from you. The Emir’s palace would have issued a statement on the refusal of the police to return Ese to her parents. But nothing was done. But thank God for the media. Thank God for Punch.

The Nigeria Police Force NPF usually never fails to amaze me. In a way still shrouded in mystery, in every widely broadcasted news, the Nigeria police always consistently make themselves the black sheep. After all, they are black men in black uniform! Nonsense.

They usually, never know the difference between right or wrong. To them, if you are poor, you are wrong. If you are not a politician, you are wrong. If your political party doesn’t occupy Aso rock, you are wrong. They do things to please certain selected individuals. They are hypocrites of the first order. They heard of Ese’s case before the media, yet they swung into action with state-of-the-art sloppiness. If the police had acted timely, maybe Ese wouldn’t have been pregnant. The police take the chief blame. It was this same sloppiness that made the rescue of the kidnaped Chibok girls impossible; the army dragged their feet while the girls were been dragged to slavery.

The NPF can redeem their image. There area other girls reportedly married off in suspecting conditions. They can learn their lesson from Ese’s case and act more swiftly before the media helps them do their job again. Lucy Ejeh, Patience Paul and Charity Uzoechina. All these are names recently indicated by the media as victims of child marriage. They should help re-unite them with their families.

Our girls should be protected. We need more ladies to serve the society positively. Girls should be allowed to enjoy their childhood. This can only happen if we give them a chance to choose their path. And not selling them off because of some mundane and primordial line of thought. It is not enough to ask for justice for Ese. Neither is it enough to bring punishment on Yunusa Dahiru. But there is a bigger picture. It is about the protection of the future of the female folks. It is about saving the future from this sort of emotional fisticuff. It is about doing away with the past, mundane and terrible cultures. It is about being modest. It is about giving the right orientation to religious men. It is about love and protecting the vulnerable.

God help Nigeria.

Ezekiel Efeobhokhan
500 level Pharmacy (Pharm D)
University of Benin.

MARRIAGE TROUBLES

(Flashback to childhood mama and papa play)

I looked at Sandra furtively, I was subtly irritated by her now, she wasn’t listening to me. My opinion on how the family should be ran, mattered little to her.  My mum listened to my dad that was what supposed to be playing out here too! I stood there annoyed, secretly wishing she wasn’t my wife that afternoon. 

I missed Nifemi, she wasn’t like Sandra, she was calmer, didn’t behave as if she was the smartest one, wasn’t as bullish as Sandra. I wished she was the one who was cooking in front of me, I wasn’t enjoying this marriage.

“We need tomato, there’s none here” Sandra turned and said to me. She must have felt I was enjoying this. This was a guess though, her countenance was rigidly expressionless.

I stared at her for a while, bewildered at what she was asking from me. That wasn’t supposed to be my job. Didn't she understand how these things were done? She couldn't just follow convention. I hissed silently. 

Was it not children that went on errands? 

I was the head of the home, my duty should be to fend for the family, give out monies, send my children on errands; stuff that Nifemi would understand, not to help get tomatoes!

 I shook my head while I went to fetch the tomatoes. I enjoyed being in control, dictating what to do. She was gradually sucking the fun out of this too, that's how things with her always turned out to be. Monochromatic. Dull. Kill joy. 

Kunle was there when I returned. Kunle was always the erratic son who seldom like to stay with the family. He had become stereotyped, not that he ever cared though. He was considerably taller than me, some would even say bigger, but all that was trivial.  I was his father now. The script was that sons listened to their father, and he didn’t do otherwise, he liked being my son, or any body's son. He was holding the baby. Rocking her gently as any older brother would, firmly in character. The look in his eyes was that of sublime admiration. I always maintained he was too good for this role, but he never really liked being a brother or friend, being a son was what rocked his boat and he stuck with it.  Today, he was no different; today he was totally following my script, pretending to do the things I asked. I like the days he behaved like this, the days his mood wouldn’t be too ecstatic and he’d forget he promised to be my son after we had agreed the day before.

‘’Daddy, welcome’’ he greeted cheerfully.

‘’My son welcome, how was school?” I quizzed, as I handed the canned tomatoes to Sandra.

She wouldn’t understand the uncanny stunt I pulled to get it, or did she? Normally a bad one would suffice but not for me. Even though I wasn’t with any money, I had arrived with a fresh can of tomatoes, how I enjoyed making the cooking not too farcical. 

She was stirring the food which was still heating. Her cooking always took long, I wondered if she was lost in the drama of the entire theme. She was too meticulous, too ‘’by-the-book’’, but I had just admired Kunle for being the same, there was just something about Sandra, something irksome.

I thought of Nifemi again, she wasn't back yet, she probably was still in school. I looked on at Sandra now, becoming half disinterested, I was already half annoyed. 

The room was musty now, it was probably because of the bad vegetables she used, or the obvious mixture of "unmixables". It only meant one thing though; the food was almost ready. I looked out the window and saw Ogijo. Not so long ago, he was my brother in the scheme of things, but he too would not visit again because of Sandra. He had abandoned us. He and Sandra were not talking to each other now. She liked to boss everyone around and Ogijo didn’t tolerate that, he disliked her too. There, I had said it, I disliked her. I wondered why I was still with her, still married to her, maybe the prospect of being a Daddy was all too good and it attracted me totally, blinding me to the vivid obnoxiousness of my wife or maybe I was just bored of the TV programs that afternoon; too close to call.

Ogijo had his own family now, apparently, Julia was his wife now and I could tell they were returning from the rear of the compound. They held different kinds of foodstuff in their hands, some had obviously lost color as usual, but nonetheless, they looked happier, no one was overdoing anything. I envied Ogijo, though I knew I would only be as happy as him, if it was Nifemi cooking beside me, if it was her that was my wife. 

‘’Kunle, your sister is crying, you don’t know the smoke is disturbing her? Take her outside” Sandra barked. 

‘’Daddy, while I’m dishing out the food, help me call the children in so we can all eat’’ she quipped. 

Daddy? She had called me “Daddy”. Nifemi would say Jindu or Darling, everything seemed so surreal with Sandra. I felt nostalgia, just yesterday when I was with Nifemi. When it was Nifemi that was my wife, everything had been so convivial, it was always more fun with her. My disinterest grew as I sat on the stool at the side of the room, the room whose ceiling was probably crawling with all the genera of cobwebs known to man. I felt niggles. I wanted to leave but I didn’t know how to tell Sandra, how would she take it? I was a little scared of her, I had to admit that. She had beat me up a few times, not that I ever admitted that though. I always preferred to say we tied.

I was watching the swarm of ants that was crawling on the wall above me, they were always so courteous, never failing to acknowledge one another, no matter the kind of hurry they were in. I marveled at them. 

‘’Daddy, call them now’’ she was sounding bullish now, obviously proud of the meal she had prepared.

I wondered if she couldn’t read my body reaction, which was screaming leave me alone, albeit as mildly as I could let out. I strutted out of the room looking for Kunle and the baby, he was at the other side of the compound, he had left the baby on the pavement, playing football with Ogijo. I wondered why Ogijo had left his family so soon. Julia was still cooking her own version of the "unmixables" when I passed her near the gate, at the rear of the compound. We had gotten the favorable spot for our own family. She and Ogijo had to make do with the shade which the tall building provided. Truth was that, normally we left our families anytime we wanted to, except of course it was Sandra playing your wife. 

Then it happened! 

“Chukwujindu’’ screamed my mother on top of her voice. 

That signaled two things; my little family play with Sandra and Kunle was over and It spelt trouble, she only ever called my full name when I erred, when I had ‘’done something’’. I dashed away screaming ‘’ma’’ as loudly as my voice could take, as I ran, I wondered what I had done, I had to think fast, I had to prepare my defense.

Was it the can of tomatoes I had collected from the fridge? 

But I had seen two there, and they had been there a long time, no way she was going to use it today, or was she? I picked up my pace and suddenly stopped, the baby (my cardigan which Sandra had folded to the shape of a baby cot) still lay at the pavement, where Kunle had left it. I couldn’t risk my dad driving in and seeing it at the front of the compound and he could drive in at any moment, a voice in my head quipped. I ran back to collect it, there I saw Nifemi and her mum enter the compound. She probably stayed back at her mother’s shop after school, I was saying a quick ‘’good afternoon ma” to her mum when I heard my mum scream my name again, this time louder, and more ferocious. I entered the living room, with palpable fear, there she was scowling.

‘’Gini ki ne me since mmu na akpogi. Your lesson teacher has been looking for you’’. 

 I looked up and saw her, Auntie Eunice, smiling away, I could see through the facade though. I had written absolute guesses on my quantitative reasoning assignments. It was deliberate, I never seemed to understand that subject and even all my brainstorming efforts still produced the wrong answers. I went into my room to get my backpack and then I thought of Nifemi again…

Chris Izuchukwu Okafor

KALLIGRAPHY gets new partner

It's funny how your pen stops abruptly when you're asked to write about yourself. You try to sell and at the same time try to avoid the uppity of seemingly over selling. It is a simple job at the surface but starting, it gets a little mundane. 

 I hail from Anambra state, from the popular arts crafting village of Igbo-ukwu. It is referenced in almost all of Nigeria's visual arts books. No pressure. I tend to believe in my quest for being para-normal.

‘The voice of the people is the voice of God’, a popular adage I don't totally agree with. Doubting? Ask Mary Slessor. Ask Martin Luther. Ask Nelson Mandela. For some obvious reasons, I'm the kind of being that believes a radical change is always needed for growth.

I believe society's thinking is usually conformed to the norms that are particularly popular or evident. Challenging it, you're normally tagged a "Radical". No pressure again.

My mentors are sort of. Chimamanda, Soyinka, Achebe, Sissulu, Von Staffenberg, Ayo Sogunro, Chude Jideonwo, Nelson Mandela. They all make me marvel at the nature of their minds, axiomatically beautiful. OK, let me not digress. 

I'm a writer, a social critic who thinks black Africa needs a psychological study really fast to determine if our leaders cannot understand that we are being left behind in the scheme of things. Why our leaders are unflinchingly determined to make sure we continue to be the destination for multitudinous aids and relief, decade after decade. Let me not digress again.

I am the story today, not Africa. I'm a theorized graduate from the University of Benin. My practical demonstration in my field of study is still very much undergraduate. Don't ask me why. In fact "lemme" tell you why. I studied a practical science course in our theory-oriented University. 

Naturally, I tend to be very critical and I try to indulge my mind in the most normal of situation. I have a thing for sociology and somehow I've come to realise I have snobbish tendency. I have come to realise that small talk is an integral part of social nexus and I wonder when I'll stop being part of it. I have a thing for Greek names and unsubtly fascinated by History. Sorry if I have not said some things I ought to have said. Describing myself became harder as I picked up the pen, or less literary, the keyboard.

Let the story begin,

Yours Truly

Izuchukwu Okafor