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ITS IS SO FUNNY HOW NIGERIAN POLITICS IS , WHERE IS IT HEARD THAT A SERVANT PAYS THE MASTER TO SERVE HIM , BUT THAT IS WHAT HAPPENS IN NIGERIA WE COOLECT MONEY FROM POLITICIANA AND WE EXPECT THEM TO SERVE US , WHERE HAVE WE SEEN A MAN GIVING OUT HIS MONEY FOR FREE  WHEN HE IS NOT A CHARITY WHEN HE/HER GETS IN OFFICE THEY WILL COLLECT BACK THEIR MONEY FROM US(GOVERNMENT MONEY WHICH IS OUR MONEY) SO WHO IS TO BLAME LETS THINK . XOXOXO

What  Time is It?

Well; it is later than we think; and the King of kings is soon to return!

The reason that I say that it is later than we think is because, most Christians, Preachers, or Teachers very rarely read and teach from the book of Revelation. They think that the things that are written in it are too complicated and confusing. And that those things are not going to happen until some time in the far distant future! Well let me update you, did you know that five of the seven Trumpets spoken of in Revelation have already sounded? That's right, and that means that there are only two Trumpets left to sound!

Let's back up a minute, in the 5th and 6th Chapters of Revelation, we see John weeping because there was no one found worthy to open the book and to loose the seven seals contained in the book. But an Angel told him to stop crying, because the Lion of the Tribe of Juda, has arisen and that He is the only one worthy to take the book and to loose or break open its seals!

Do we understand that Jesus Christ is the one that has set events in motion, and that He has already warned those with ears to hear as to what is going on in the earth today! There is a need for a clearer understanding of the word of God among His people, because some are trying to rebuke and bind satan, concerning things that are happening, instead of realizing and understanding the order of things. The scriptures says in Ephesians 5:15-17, that we are made wise by knowing or understanding what the will of the Lord is.

Now there are; the Seal judgments, the Trumpet Judgments and the Vial Judgments. The Seals and Trumpets speak of the same things, but in greater or lesser detail. For instance, just as Matthew, Mark, Luke and John all contain the history of Jesus' earthly ministry…some  give more detail than do the others. So the Seals are the short story and the Trumpets are the longer story. The Vial Judgments happen after, or during the great tribulation.

So why do I say that it is later than we think? As I stated, five of the seven Trumpets have sounded. Let me briefly brake them down for you; the first Trumpet was WW1, the second Trumpet was WW2, the third Trumpet was the nuclear explosion that happen in Russia in the 80's known as Chernobyl. The forth Trumpet was the shortening of time which begin in the early 90's. Haven't you said yourself; "It feels like time is going faster".  The fifth Trumpet was the Gulf War beginning with George Bush Sr. and leading up to the removal of power of Saddam Hussein under George Bush Jr. Those Trumpets have already sounded, no one is preaching this, not many Pastors, Prophets, Apostles are telling the people of God these things…mostly what is being taught is the Prosperity, live, eat, drink and be merry gospel.

The next Trumpet to sound is what is called the Sixth Trumpet War. This war will be a most horrible war unlike any that this world has ever experienced; more than 2 billion people will be killed! Not only internationally, but here on American soil the horror will be felt. We are told in the word where this war will originate….in the Euphrates river region, that is for the most part in Iran. As you know, Iran is trying to enrich uranium for the purpose of arming a missile with a nuclear war head to destroy Israel and even the U.S.! We are told that this war has a scheduled time, day, month and year! Just as the tragedy of 9-11 happened, unexpectantly on a beautiful day...so will this coming war happen. Go to the book of Revelation 9:13 and read it for yourself. 

I beg you brothers and sisters renew your minds, don't be taken with all of the glitz and glammer of the Church, because there is an Apostate Church on the rise. Gird up the loins of your mind, begin to seek the face of the Lord as never before, reach your unsaved co-workers, family members with the gospel of Jesus Christ….it is high time, now is our salvation nearer than when we first believed.

B-blessed everyone!

f

Coming to America
I woke up for the third time in five hours. I’m flying across the Atlantic Ocean. I’m going to America to meet the 
love of my life, the father of my unborn children.
I woke up because the flight attendant was offering me another meal. They feed you a lot on these international 
flights. Anytime I flew within Nigeria, all I got was a bun that could shatter the plane’s window if you fling it 
at it.
But on this flight, it was food every two hours. Good food too. I couldn’t even pronounce some of the meals on the 
menu.
Now I know why all those rich and powerful Nigerians travel abroad and return with puffy cheeks and potbellies. 
It’s the airline food.
I took the warm meal from the hostess and shoved it in my mouth. Unlike the other meals, this one was tough on the 
teeth.
“It’s a hot towel, ma’am,” the hostess said as she tried hard not to laugh.  “You use it for the face.”
I almost died out of shame.
Back home, I was what you’ll call a city girl. I grew up in Lagos, the city that is really a metropolis but we call 
a city because that was what the British colonialists called it and someone has not thought it was time to call it 
a metropolis. I went to the University of Lagos, one of the most urbane universities on the continent. And, I was 
an assistant branch manager in a bank on Broad Street, a place some call the financial capital of Africa.
In Lagos, I was an “it girl”. But, on this plane, I had just acted like the ultimate bush girl.
I smiled sheepishly at the hostess as she moved on to the next passenger. I looked around; saw everyone wiping 
their faces with their towels. I did the same.
“Don’t worry about it,” says the middle-aged white woman next to me, “I used to do that all the time too”.
I knew she was trying to make me feel better. No one chews a hot towel twice. But, it still felt nice to hear it. I 
nodded my thanks.
“Where are you flying from?” she asked.
Well, there goes my attempt to blend in. I was hoping people would think I was from England because I boarded the 
plane in London.
“Lagos,” I answered.
“Where is that?” she asked.
“Nigeria,” I replied.
“Oh, the place where they send those fraudulent e-mails and faxes,” she added.
“Pardon, me?” I shot back with a frown.
“I get the e-mails all the time,” she continued like a doctor passing the death sentence on a patient.
All of a sudden, I’m angry with his woman. I have watched a lot of MTV, BET and CNN to know enough of the American 
culture. I know a lot of Americans are good people. But, I also know some of them like to pass judgment on things 
they know little about as if they were Jesus Christ on the throne. I wasn’t going to let this woman off the hook.
“So, where are you from?” I asked.
“Roanoke, Virginia” she answered proudly.
“Ah, the American South!”
“Yeah”
“Your great-grandfathers came to my country with the Bible and stole millions of my people. Turned them into 
slaves.”
I had never seen a white woman turn morbid pale that fast.
“That is not a nice thing to say,” she fumed.
“You think what you said was a nice thing?” I asked..
“You think everybody from the South was a slave trader?” she shot back.
“You think every Nigerian is a criminal?”  I asked. This was funny; we were answering questions with question. 
Maybe she’s a Nigerian in disguise because that is what we do in Nigeria, we answer questions with questions.
“It’s not the same thing,” she said.
“Oh yes, it is,” I responded.
She pouted, turned away and looked out the window at the bluish skies. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift back 
to how I came to be in a plane headed for Baltimore Washington International Airport.
I had dreamt of this trip for four years. But, it was coming two years sooner than I had planned. Or, we had 
planned.

The Day Before America
I have come to America for my Tunde. He is the love of my life, the ordained father of my children, the man I would 
spend the rest of my life with.
I met Tunde Oluyomi six years ago. I was 21 and he was 27. I was an advertising executive. He was a journalist. I 
was from the Ishan tribe. He was from the Yoruba tribe. I lived in Oshodi on the Lagos mainland. He lived in Sango 
Ota, on the outskirts of Lagos.
We had very little in common.
“Why you dey always show me your break light?” he asked me one day in Pidgin English after I’d dropped off an 
advert copy for his newspaper.
“What do you mean,” I replied in my polished English. I’d just graduated from the University of Lagos with a Second 
class upper degree in Economics and I wasn’t going to waste my tongue speaking Pidgin English. That language was 
for illiterates.
“Every time I say hello, you just whisper hello back and scram,” he complained.
“Okay, hello, “ I answered and proceeded to theatrically count from one to three.
“See, I’m not running away. I just have to go,” I told him after I counted to three.
He laughed, showing a perfect set of white teeth that contrasted beautifully with his chocolate skin.
“Can I take you to lunch some time? I really want to know you,” he asked boldly, as if he was rolling the dice.
“I’m a busy girl. I don’t do lunch,” I answered.
We both knew it was a lie. But, we both knew he wouldn’t call me out on it. That would be the ultimate romance deal 
breaker.
“Breakfast, lunch, dinner, weekday, weekend – name it. I’m there,” Tunde offered.
“I’ll see you around, Bros,” I replied as I walked away.
“Bros” was a romantic death sentence. It means “big brother”. It’s worse than the friend zone. It’s the “never 
ever” zone. Tunde knew it as soon as I said it. But, he never relented.
He sent me a romantic e-card every day. He sent me bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He bought me chocolates and 
sweets. And, he never showed his face to pressurize it. He always sent a driver from his office.
Most boys in Lagos don’t pamper girls. The older men do. But, that’s why they’re called sugar daddies. The girls 
are toys – mistresses who balance the drudgery of married life. The sugar daddies buy their mistresses cars, rent 
them posh flats and fatten their bank accounts. But, it’s never a permanent thing. One day, a younger girl always 
takes the place of the mistress.
Lagos boys are not romantic. They are bottom line guys. Dinner, movie, club then your back on the mattress. Tunde 
was different. He romanced me as if he was consulting a romance magazine. I am a good Catholic girl who had 
promised God and my mother that I would keep my legs closed until my wedding night.
But, Tunde grew on me. Two days before Valentine’s Day, I called him.
“Will you be my Valentine?” I asked boldly.
I was breaking another little dating rule for girls in Lagos. Never ask a guy out. It diminishes you. But, I felt 
really good about Tunde. I didn’t think about it. I just dialed the phone and said the first thing that came to my 
mind.
I will always remember Tunde’s joyous laughter on the phone. It was a delight. I wish I had saved it on my 
voicemail. It would have been the perfect ring tone.
My parents didn’t approve of him. He was a “Yanmiri”, a Yoruba boy that should not be trusted. I don’t even know 
what the word means. But, I know it’s a bad word.
His parents didn’t approve of me for the same reason. I was an “ajeokuta ma mumi” which meant “he who eats stone 
without drinking water”. It was originally meant to describe people of the Ibo tribe. I wasn’t Ibo. But, to a 
Yoruba in the Nigerian tribal politics, if you’re neither Hausa or Yoruba, you were Ibo. It came from suspicion 
built during the civil war.
The funny thing is, although I am Ishan, I was born in Lagos and I have lived there all my life. I have only made 
two trips to the village. The first time was for an ill-fated Christmas vacation that was cut short because my 
grandmother claimed one of my grandfather’s other wives was a witch and had promised my head at a big witches’ 
meeting. The other trip was for my grandmother’s funeral. But, in Nigeria, you’re from where your forefathers were 
from.
Tunde’s mother told him I am an “Ogbanje” because I was fair-skinned. An “Ogbanje” is a child that made a pact with 
the spirit world to die young. They come to this world to torture their parents. They always die at very important 
periods in their life cycle. Since I already had a university degree, Tunde’s mother was convinced that I had made 
a pact with the spirit world to die on my wedding day.
“You’re just postponing sadness, Tunde. You will remember what I’m telling you on your wedding night when she drops 
dead,” she counseled Tunde.
But, nothing could come between Tunde and I. We had two great years together in Lagos. We were inseparable. He was 
one of the rising stars in political correspondence in Nigeria. Politicians called him every hour of the day.
With Tunde’s encouragement and active support, I went back to school part-time, got a masters degree in Banking and 
Finance and got a job in one of the new banks in Nigeria.
Tunde was very ambitious. He set goals he had to meet at certain ages. He wanted to be an editor by 30. He wanted 
us to be married when he was 31. We would have our first child when he was 32. All I had to do was say Amen. I 
loved my man and I thanked God everyday for him.
Then, Tunde decided to write a weekly column about the plight of the people in the oil-rich but devastated Niger 
Delta. In Nigeria at that time, it was the easiest way to die. During the brutal Abacha regime, journalists were 
jailed. In the new political dispensation, journalists simply disappeared.
Tunde was offered bribes and political appointments if he’d simply report the speeches and press releases of the 
politicians and let the Niger Deltans continue their decades of suffering. But, my man had a conscience as big as 
the ocean. He stayed on the side of the people.
After a couple of attempts on his life, Tunde and I decided it was time he fled the country. He would go abroad, 
study for a master’s degree and return when the situation was better. We even had dreams of owning our own 
newspaper. He would run the publishing side and I would run the business side.
While he was gone, I also embraced my new life as an emergency nun. Men offered me the world if I would go out with 
them. I always said no. I was going to wait for my Tunde.
“The way you’re going, this useless boy you’re waiting for will need a drill to get inside that vagina when he gets 
back,” one exasperated colleague told me after six months of trying to get me to go out on a date with him.
My father also had plans of his own. He wanted a man that would take care of me, not a boy who ran away from his 
country. He promised me to a politician from my state who was a few years older than my father, had three wives and 
had a breath that stank like rotten cheese.
“If it’s abroad you want to go to, I can re-locate you to New York after we marry. I have a house there. You’ll be 
my American wife,” the politician told me the first time I met him at my father’s house.
It all came to a head one, weird day two months ago. My father had called me that morning and said I should make 
sure I come over to his house after work. I was worried all day. I thought something was wrong. I thought for the 
briefest of moments that someone in our family had died or had a terminal illness.
When I got to my father’s house, the politician was waiting. There was a used car outside the house too. It was a 
gift for my father. My father was over the moon. He had worked for the government for thirty years and he couldn’t 
afford a bicycle. Now the politician had given him a car. My fate was sealed. I would marry the old man. I had no 
say in this matter. My father’s word was law.
“He can’t do that. My family brought him wine before I left. We are traditionally married,“ Tunde cried on the 
phone when I told him later that night.
“I think the politician’s money has made him crazy. He now has selective amnesia. You have to save me, Tunde,” I 
cried back.
“What are we going to do?” he wailed on the phone.
“I don’t know! I don’t know! If I can get a visa, I would come over there,” I replied between sobs.
“Don’t even try those embassy people. It’s just another heartache,” he advised.
“You have to come up with a plan, Tunde. My father man is planning to marry me off before Christmas,” I pleaded.
“I’ll work something out. I promise. No one can take you away from me,” Tunde professed.
But, Tunde could not come up with a good plan. For our sake and our future, I had to take matters into my own 
hands.
One morning in September, I rounded up my brother and two sisters. We went to the American embassy and applied for 
a visa.
We had to go to the embassy before September runs out because the politician decided he wanted to do the 
traditional wedding during Independence Day in October. He was running for office and he wanted to use the wedding 
as a rally for his supporters.
The embassy rejected my application. But, they gave my youngest sister a visa. There was no logical reason why she, 
a jobless graduate, got a visa while I, a gainfully employed banker, did not.
But, it all worked according to my grand plan. The reason we all applied for a visa was a shot in the dark that one 
of us would be lucky to get a visa. My siblings and I look alike. If my brother had gotten the visa, all I had to 
do was cut my hair.
Three days before my traditional wedding to the chief, I jumped on a British Airways flight bound for America.
During the stopover in London, I made two calls.
The first was to my father. I thought he would blow a lung or rupture his kidney in anger. But, all he did was 
curse me. I didn’t mind the curse. In Nigeria, we all know curses are local – they don’t travel across the ocean.
Then, I called Tunde. He was so stunned I was on my way to him that he couldn’t quite express his happiness.
I was happy. I was free. I was going to meet my man. In America.In America
“The World Bank, huh? Is that like Bank of America or Citibank?” asked the Immigrations Officer as she looked at my 
passport.
She looked black. But, she could also have been Latina. Or, bi-racial. You can never tell with these Americans.
But, my bigger problem was that I couldn’t really make out what the woman was saying. No matter how much CNN, BET 
and MTV you watch, nothing prepares you for an American accent when you hear it face to face.
“Pardon me,” I said.
“You’ve not done anything wrong, no need to ask for a pardon,” she replied.
“I meant can you repeat the question,” I said.
“Is the World Bank like Bank of America or Citibank?” she asked.
“It’s like the Bank of America, only this time for the whole world,” I said because I had no clue how to answer the 
question. There are no two World Banks.
But, this woman was no ordinary cookie. She takes her job seriously. She cannot be fooled easily.
“You traveled all the way from Africa for a two day meeting?” she queried.
“They won’t let me stay away longer in my office,” I lied.
Her smile faded by a slight shade. Trouble. I dug in.
“Plus, my sister is due any day now. She’s married to a no-good guy who is in prison. I’m on standby on three 
flights every day. If she goes into labor right now, I’m turning back,” I lied.
It’s crazy the things you do for love. I am a church going girl who gives ten percent of her salary as tithe to the 
church. And, I’m Catholic – they don’t enforce those Old Testament rules in the 21st century. I always frown at 
lying and deception. Now, I was Ms. Deception. All because of my Tunde. All because of love.
The immigrations lady shot me an affectionate look. I could swear I saw tears floating in her eyes.
“I so know what you’re saying. My sister is pregnant too and her man is in jail. I don’t know what she’s going to 
do,” she blurted out.
She stamped my passport and passed it to me without another question.
My heart raced with delight. My palms were sweating. Even though the hall was fully air conditioned, I could feel a 
line of sweat dribbling down the back of my neck.
I am officially in America!
“Thank you,” I said.
“I love your accent by the way,” the immigrations lady said.
“Thank you,” I replied and hurried away before she realized I was an impostor.
I wanted to jump up in joy. But, I had to be composed for a few more minutes.
Just to show me how lucky I would be in this America, God arranged it that as I got to the baggage carousel, my bag 
was rolling down the chute. America is going to be good to me.
I got my luggage and strolled towards the arrival hall. I could see people in the arrival lounge waiting to receive 
their guests.
Then I saw him. My Tunde. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and several balloons. He had the biggest smile on his 
face. I was so happy I wanted to cry. I would have run to him if my luggage wasn’t slowing me down.
I was a few steps away from the arrival lounge when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw the 
glowering face of a customs officer looking at me. His dog bared his fangs at me.
“Please come with me,” the custom officer said.
It was an order. Not a request. He turned sharply, took his place beside me and marched me to a room at the far 
corner of the hall. As I walked beside him, I could feel my heart slipping into my stomach.
The door opened and I stepped into a room with poor, shadowy lights. Two large, intimidating men stood at either 
end of a table. They stretched their rubber gloves for effect, as if choreographed. I saw a sinister smile curl up 
on the face of one of the men.
I swallowed hard. I’ve seen this before. In the movies. Anal probe. It all adds up. I’m from big, bad Nigeria. I 
must surely be here with some drugs hidden in my bowels.
I set down my luggage, took off my jacket and started undoing the zipper of my trouser.
“What are you doing?” the man who had not been smiling barked at me.
“Getting ready,” I answered tamely.
“Getting ready for what?” the smiling agent who was no longer smiling shouted.
“You want to do a search, right?”
“You hiding something?”
“No”.
I zipped my zipper back up. Perhaps the Americans have a new, more sophisticated way of searching for drugs that 
didn’t include anal probe.
The officer who had led me in took my luggage and dumped them on the table. For the first time, I noticed the 
yellow tag on my bags. It wasn’t there when I left Lagos. My mind was racing with a hundred thoughts. What did I do 
wrong? After all I’d gone through to run away from Lagos, I couldn’t go back. Besides, my father’s curse was 
waiting for me too.
“Do you have any banned food, agricultural produce or dairy in your bag”, one of the officers asked.
“No,” I replied.
One of the officers unzipped one of my bags. He flipped through the neat rows of clothes, magazines and books until 
he discovered the five bounded herbal roots in a plastic bag at the bottom of the bag. The second agent grabbed 
what looked like an x-ray of my bag from the top of a file cabinet. They compared the plastic bag and the x-ray 
image and nodded in agreement. Then, they turned to me with that snarling smile of a boxer who has just shoved his 
helpless, hapless challenger into a corner and is winding up for the kill.
“What is this?” the agent with the sinister smile asked.
“Herb,” I replied.
“Like weed?”
“No, it’s a drug”.
“A drug!” they chorused.
“Yes. A traditional drug,” I replied.
“You know penalty for trafficking drugs in the United States?”
“I am not trafficking. It’s for my private use”.
“Finally, a honest criminal!” the agent with the sinister smile declared.
I didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that my medicinal drug, albeit of the traditional variety, was being 
confused for a hard drug. At that moment I didn’t know that in America, a herb can be a weed and a weed can be a 
herb. I also didn’t know that in America, a drug was called a medication.
Panicked, I told my first truth in America.
“I brought it as a precaution, in case I have malaria,” I said.
“You take drugs for malaria?” the non-smiling agent asked.
“Yes. It’s an African treatment. It’s faster than normal drugs,” I replied.
“You’re calling a medication a drug?” the agent who brought me in asked.
“Yes. We call a drug a drug or a medicine. But, medicine is too long,” I told him.
The agents shared a curious look. I could tell they were confused. Working at an airport like this, I’m sure they’
ve heard a lot of things. But, I guess they’ve never heard this.
“I tell you what, you prove that thing is what you say it is and we’ll let you go. If not, your ass is off to 
jail,” the agent with a sinister smile declared.
“Can I have two bottles of sprite or 7Up please?” I pleaded as two lines of sweat dribbled from my scalp and down 
my neck.
“What for?,” the smiling agent asked.
“To prove myself,” I replied.
“You sure you don’t want a coca-cola? You know, ‘coke is it,” the agent with the sinister smile said with a sneer.
“I’m sure, sir,” I muttered.
“How long is it gonna take?” he asked
“At least four hours,” I responded.
My mind was in a riot. I was not going to bring the herb. But, my mother had insisted. She said she read once that 
when people had malaria overseas, they sent them to Liverpool. Thanks to the game Americans call soccer, my mother 
knew Liverpool was not in America because the city had a big football club in England.
She said the Americans would put me in a cage with dogs and send me to Liverpool where I would arrive with rabies 
and other diseases the English can’t treat. In the end, a very short end, she emphasized, they would dig me a hole 
and wait for me to die.
But, with these five bounded herbs, I can be my own doctor. Once I felt the chills of malaria, I can soak them up 
in a bottle of gin or sprite and wait a few hours until the medicine seep into the sprite. Then, I can let the 
herb-juiced sprite or gin loose on the malaria. It was better with gin but I know these agents will laugh me to 
prison if I asked for a bottle of gin.
The officer who had marched me in returned with two bottles of Sprite.
“You want anything else?” he asked
“Yes, can I have my Bible? It’s in my briefcase,” I replied tamely.
“Sure”.
He opened my briefcase, removed my Bible and handed it over to me.
I soaked two sticks of herb in a bottle of Sprite, closed the lid and opened my Bible to the book of psalms. I may 
be in the land of Christopher Columbus. But, even Columbus bowed to one God. I was going to pray to that God. I 
opened my Bible to the book of Psalms.
“Psalm 23 ain’t gonna help you,” the officer chuckled as he and his colleagues left the room and shut the steel 
door.
I was on Psalm 122 when the door opened again. The agent with a sinister smile and the unsmiling agent entered.
“What you got?” asked the agent with a sinister smile.
I opened the bottle of sprite with the herbs. The color had changed. I grinned. I can now prove my case to them. 
Then, I tasted it and cringed. There was still too much sprite and too little herb.
“It’s not fully ready but a pharmacist can confirm the medicinal content,” I told them, spewing what I later learn 
was called bull shitting in America.
“In this place, we’re the doctors, lawyers, nurses and pharmacists. As a matter of fact, we’re the judge and jury 
too,” the unsmiling agent said.
The unsmiling agent grabbed the bottle, smelt it and frowned.
“It don’t smell like sprite no more,” he declared.
“Well, if you put shit in water, it’s gonna smell different,” the agent with a sinister smile answered as he fished 
a handcuff out of his pocket.
The unsmiling agent tasted the herb-juiced sprite and flexed his jaw.
“It kindda have a kick,” he declared.
Curious, the agent with a sinister smile took the bottle and examined it for several seconds.
“Fuck it, I have insurance. Might as well use it if I have to,” he declared.
He takes a sip. Then a little more. He sets the bottle down, shoots me a confused look for a few moments then turns 
to his colleague.
“It sure tastes like a goddamn syrup,” he said.
The agents looked at themselves for a few seconds. It felt like a lifetime. Finally, the unsmiling agent shut my 
bag, put the handcuffs back in his pocket and smiled.
“Welcome to America”.America at Last
Five hours and forty-three minutes after the plane landed, I was finally free. I was in America. Tunde was waiting 
and worried.
“What happened?” he asked as soon as I walked out of Customs.
When I told him, he laughed so hard tears were streaming down his eyes. Then, he grabbed me in those firm, muscular 
arms of his and lifted me up right outside the arrival hall.
“Welcome to America, my darling,” he said in a soft, happy voice.
I looked at America in the fading light and shrugged in surprise. I had imagined a sunny city with people so happy 
it’s infectious. I had even glimpsed the sun and seen the people from the customs area.
Now, it was dark and gloomy and a little bit chilly. It was late September. I’m told this is the fall season – the 
prelude to winter. People were wearing knickers and shorts. But, I was freezing.
If it ever gets this cold at any time of the year in my country, they may well declare a national emergency. Not 
that it would help much though because the last time a president declared a national emergency, it was about the 
infrequent power supply. At that time, we had power six hours every day. After he declared it a national emergency, 
we were lucky to have power six hours every week.
But, why worry about the cold, I told myself. I was with the love of my life.
“I told you, didn’t I? Our children will be Americans,” Tunde said, reminding me of a promise he made to me on the 
phone during one of his thousands of calls.
“And I told you, there is no place like home. We will stay here for a few years and go back home,” I responded.
“You call that place a country! With all those illiterates in power,” he hissed.
At that moment, Nigeria was the farthest thing from my mind. I was in God’s own country. Why worry about the 
devil’s backyard? I pulled Tunde closer and kissed him. His lips were cold and chapped. But, it was the best kiss 
I’ve had in four years. Heck, it was my first kiss in four years.
“I’ve made the best plan for your start in America,” Tunde announced. “Tonight, we sleep at the Hilton. Tomorrow, 
we’re going to Atlantic City for the weekend. It’s going to be a blast”.
I wanted him to keep talking. I loved that he was still a romantic. I loved the sound of his voice. I even loved 
the faint lisp that creeps into his speech sometimes. He was cute. He could be sitting on a toilet right now and 
I’ll think he’s the cutest thing on God’s earth.
I didn’t want to go to a hotel or to Atlantic City. I wanted to go home and cook him a true Nigerian dinner. I 
wanted to get in bed with him. I wanted to start working on a baby as soon as possible. I wasn’t getting any 
younger. I was 27. And, I know a grandchild would heal the rift between my father and I.
“Just have a child as soon as you can, your father will forgive you. A new child solves every problem,” my mother 
advised me on my last night in Lagos.
But, Tunde has a plan and we have to stick to it. That’s what a good wife does.
Just so we’re clear, dear diary – Tunde and I are legally and traditionally married. He paid my dowry before he 
left Lagos. His family brought yams, wine and bags of rice to my family. Unknown to everyone but my two sisters, 
brother and Tunde’s best friend, we were also legally married.
On the morning before he left for America, we drove to the registry in Lagos Island and took out a marriage 
license. The reason we kept it a secret was because we are Nigerians and we like big wedding parties.
We had to get married before a priest then throw the mother of all parties – a party that was sure to disrupt 
vehicular traffic in our neighborhood. It’s the only way we know how to do weddings in Nigeria. It doesn’t matter 
if the next day, we’re as poor as church rats again. All that matters is that for one day, we were the talk of the 
neighborhood.
As soon as we got into the hotel room, I pounced on Tunde and drained every fluid in his groin. I woke up three 
times during the night just to catch up with my sex quota. Four years is a long time for a girl to go without. 
Tunde was so sore he screamed when water poured on his penis in the shower in the morning.
The next morning, we got in his car and headed for Atlantic City. My America journey was about to begin.

Heartbreak
Something is bothering Tunde. He’s not saying what it is. But, a girl can tell.  It’s the way his gaze drifts into 
the distance when he should be ecstatic. It’s the slow, deliberate way he chews his food. It’s in the way he looks 
at me when he thinks I’m not looking.
“Is everything okay?” I asked on our second night in Atlantic City.
“Yes, why?” he replied.
“I don’t know. I just feel something is on your mind,” I said.
“You worry too much, my darling,” he re-assured me. “Come on, get dressed, there’s a nice club I want to take you 
to.
“We can sleep in tonight. I have jetlag, “I protested.
“If we stay in, you know we won’t sleep,” he replied with a knowing wink.
“Well, I’m not getting any younger. My goal is to have our first child within a year,” I confessed.
“You’re not God. You can’t force these things,” he said.
“Heaven helps those who help themselves. It’s in the Bible,” I responded.
“We have plenty of time. I want to show you some of my latest moves,” he pleaded.
I gave in reluctantly. I don’t want this man wasting his energy on the dance floor when we can be using that energy 
to make babies. But, a girl needs to keep her man happy.
Tunde has indeed learnt a lot of dance moves. Back in Lagos, he was like a programmed robot on the dance floor. 
But, now on the dance floor, he’s moving like a leaf in the wind. He could move in so many ways you’ll think he was 
a ballerina in a previous life. We were a hit on the dance floor, well, Tunde was. Half the night, I was stealing 
glances at the many girls who wished he was dancing with them.
I woke up very early this morning. It was time to return to Baltimore, Tunde’s base.
I had dreamt of Baltimore for four years. Tunde has told me a lot about it. I could picture people eating seafood 
at restaurants. I could picture Tunde at work in his small newspaper office. I could picture the town home he 
bought a little over a year ago in anticipation of my coming over.
I was eager to start my new life.
Tunde slept longer than usual. Sometimes, I felt he was looking at me but when I turned around, his eyes were 
firmly closed. Maybe I was too eager to leave this crazy city with the gamblers, drunks and casinos, and go home 
with my husband.
Finally, he woke up and looked at me with such sad eyes I thought someone had died.
“What’s wrong, darling?” I asked.
“There is something I have to tell you,” he started mournfully.
Whatever it was, I knew it was bad. But, this is why we’re partners, I told myself. We can face anything together.
“What is it?” I asked.
“When I told you I had my papers, I wasn’t telling the truth,” he continued.
“You’re still illegal?” I asked.
“No, I’m legal now,” he replied.
“Well, it’s all a matter of details. You don’t have to tell me anything if it makes you feel bad,” I assured him.
“It’s the way I got it,” he said.
“Tunde, don’t worry. You got it. I’m here. We have each other. That’s what matters to me,” I told him.
“I had to marry a girl to get my papers,” he muttered sadly.
I burst into laughter. I have heard about this and know people pay women to pretend they are their wives so they 
can get a green card. I was laughing out of relief. I was relieved that my Tunde was still the same. He never lies 
to me.
“It’s okay, darling – I hear everyone does it,” I reassured him.
“You’re sure?” he answered with a frown.
“Oh, yeah – you did what you had to do,” I told him.
“Oh, thank God. I was worried,” he exhaled.
I pushed him on the bed and started kissing him.
“You are all that I care about,” I told him.
“You don’t know how relieved I am. We’re gonna have to make some adjustment for the next year or so?” he said.
“You’re still paying her?” I asked.
“Technically,” he replied.
That was a red flag. When Tunde dribbles himself into a tight corner, he always throws out the word, “technically”.
“How technical?” I asked.
“Well, um, we kind of live together,” he muttered.
“What?” I screamed.
“I had to do it for real or she won’t buy it. But, don’t worry, I have about ten months left before my permanent 
green card comes,” he said, rushing the words, maybe in the hope that I wouldn’t hear every thing. But, my ears 
have never been more alert.
“You are married!” I yelled.
He had no answer. He couldn’t say a word.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I screamed.
“I tried,” he replied.
“Holy Mary mother of God!” I exclaimed.
“Listen, honey – just bear with me. You’re the most important person to me,” he pleaded.
He kept going on and on. He pleaded, cried and pleaded some more. I think this is what they call a shock because my 
mind went blank. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t cry.
In my haze, I heard him say he already told “Sandra”, that was the name of his wife, that his younger sister was 
coming from Nigeria and was going to stay with them until she sorts herself out.
I left Nigeria to be with the man of my dreams. In America, I was his sister.

My Husband’s Wife
Sandra is a plump, colorless, pasty white woman with a voice that sounds like metal grinding on metal. She is 
twenty years older than Tunde. She is the kind of woman I knew Tunde would not give a second look. Tunde is her 
third husband and she looks at him like you would look at a favorite puppy.
I guess the green card makes a man do strange things.
What Sandra lacked in looks and figure, she more than made up for with personality. She was kind, caring and had 
everything you look for in a big aunty. But, she was my husband’s wife. That made her the devil.
“Hey, Ralph, you brought my new sister home!” she screeched as she ran over to the car to welcome us.
It took me a few moments to realize he was talking about Tunde. I didn’t know he had become Ralph. His parents 
didn’t name him Ralph. He’s a Moslem. His first name is Ramoni.
I nodded subconsciously at Sandra. I couldn’t look at her. I feared I would jump at her and tear her into pieces. 
So, I looked at the floor. She thought it was the way Nigerians showed respect.
“You see the resemblance, sweetheart?” Tunde asked as he kissed Sandra.
“Oh, yes – honey. Almost spitting image,” Sandra declared.
I felt like throwing up. I felt like running away. I felt like screaming. But, all I did was shake my head and 
force a grin.
“I’m just trying to make my baby happy, sweetheart. You don’t look like him. You’re a very beautiful woman,” she 
whispered as she hugged me.
I was limp in her arms. I guess my body was cold too because she pulled away and gave me a really strange look.
“Are you okay, darling?” she asked.
“She has a cold. It’s never this cold in my country,” Tunde offered before I could say anything.
“Oh, poor baby. We need to wrap you up and get you some tea and soup,” Sandra said as she hustled me into the 
house.
A chill ran up my spine as I sat in the cramped living room. I couldn’t look up because the sight of their wedding 
picture was giving me a massive headache. Her hand touching me made me squirm. Sandra thought I was shivering with 
cold.
“Poor you. We’re having an unusually early cold draft this year,” she said as she handed me a cup of tea.
“Thank you,” I muttered as I sipped the tea. It tasted like poison. I loved it. I wanted to die.
Tunde pranced around like a kid in a toy store. He was making an African soup in the kitchen and acting like all 
was well.
Half an hour after we got into the house, Tunde brought me a tray with a bowl of egusi and pounded yam on it.
“Your favorite food, huh?” he beamed.
I wish I’d taken an acting lesson in Lagos. A lot of people were. Everyone wanted to be part of Nollywood. Except 
poor, stupid me. Now, I regretted it. If I had been part of a movie in Lagos, this would be a piece of cake.
Sandra was watching me keenly. I felt like I was in front of a shrink. I hate shrinks. I hate to be analyzed. In my 
country, if your health required the attention of a shrink, you were unofficially categorized as “crazy” and cast 
off. I was determined not to allow Sandra analyze me.
I swiped a mound of pounded yam, swished it around the bowl of egusi and slotted it in my mouth. It felt like a 
thorn as it slipped into my stomach. I was beyond caring. I stuffed myself. Tunde was happy. Sandra was amazed a 
smallish woman like me could eat that much. She didn’t know I was trying to gorge myself to death.
Then, I gagged and threw up. All over the white rug.
I expected Sandra to blow a lung. But, all she said was, “poor baby, we have to get you to bed”.
The best lie Tunde told on my behalf was my cold. Sandra took me into the guest bedroom and tucked me under layers 
of blanket.
“Get some rest. When you wake up, you can have some soup. I never liked any of that white flour thing Ralph eats 
anyway,” Sandra said as she left the room.
Later I found out that Tunde had told Sandra that he was working back-to-back double shifts at his nursing job then 
driving to New York to pick me up. Then, he called from New York that I missed my flight so he was staying an extra 
day in New York. That was how he finagled the Atlantic City trip.
I didn’t even know Tunde was a nurse now. When he called me in Lagos, he told me he worked in a local newspaper. He 
told me he has a Masters degree in journalism from Columbia. He told me he missed me and was scared he won’t know 
what to do with me when we meet again because he hasn’t been with a woman in four years.
He fed me lies. And, I ate it all up. I hate the word love right now. Love sucks.
I couldn’t sleep that night. How could I? My husband was making love to his wife in the next room. Americans don’t 
build walls with bricks. They use wood. Sandra wasn’t a quiet woman in the sack. She ran a play-by-play account of 
their lovemaking.
I also couldn’t help but realize that today was the first day of October, the day the old politician was going to 
marry me. I could be laying beside him right now and planning a move to New York as his American-based wife. I 
could have moved to New York, got myself a lover or two on the side and when he comes to town every other month, 
I’d pretend he was the center of my universe.
I had little to lose. Life expectancy in Nigeria was below fifty. The man was in his sixties. He was already on 
overtime. With a little luck, he’ll be dead in a couple of years.
But, I ran away from it. I ran to doom instead.
I drifted to sleep hoping I would die before dawn.My Life Sucks!
I did not die.
I woke up to an empty house. I think I half-expected Tunde to take the day off on my first day in his house. In 
Nigeria, you can call off from work at the last minute and everything would be fine. But, as I would find out 
later, in America, you don’t do that. Every hour counts. You have to pay the bills.
I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone anyway. When I woke up, I listened hard to make sure there was no one in the 
house. Then, I got up and found the note under the door.
“Aya mi, hope you had a good night. I’m off to work. There is food in the fridge. I’ll see you later, oko re to to, 
Tunde” the note read.
For the first time in my life, I felt like killing someone. If Tunde was in the house at that moment, I would have 
taken a kitchen knife, carved out his heart and hung it on the front door as an example for every dishonest men.
His note basically said, “My wife – hope you had a good night. I’m off to work. There is food in the refrigerator, 
I’ll see you soon, Tunde, your true husband”.
This man is not only a lying, cheating scumbag. He’s also heartless.
I walked around the house in a daze. I didn’t eat the food in the refrigerator. I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was 
filled with grief. My heart was aching. I hated myself.
How did my life get to be like this? Why didn’t I take the hint in Tunde’s voice when we talked on the phone before 
I left Lagos? Now, I can see why he didn’t suggest I run to America when I told him my father was trying to marry 
me off.
I didn’t feel bad for myself. I despised myself.
I was due for a promotion to branch manager in two years in my bank in Lagos. It was a position that came with a 
car, a house, a cook, a steward and a big expense account. Before I left Lagos, I had a flat, a used car and a 
maid.
I left all that for love. I bought a ticket to hell.
Tunde came home first. He had that stupid grin he always wore on his face when he was excited. Stupid me, I used to 
think that grin was cute. Now, I can see it for what it really is – a silly look on a grown man’s face.
“I left work early. I did some shopping for you,” Tunde enthused as he handed me a bag of clothes and shoes.
The bag slipped off my hands and fell to the floor. Tunde grabbed it and shot me a confused look.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Somehow, that question snapped something in me. I grabbed the bag from him and flung it at the television. Tunde 
ran to the 42-inch television, catching it before it crashed to the floor. He steadied it back on the wall and 
turned to me.
“You think this is easy for me?” he asked.
“Stop patronizing me. I am not a fool. I’m not going to play your silly games!” I screamed at him.
“What games? This is for us, our future. I need the papers for us,” he pleaded.
“There is no us. There is you and there is me,” I yelled.
“I know you’re angry. But, just reason with me right now,” he said, holding my hand.
“Don’t you ever touch me,” I said as I yanked my hand away.
“You can’t do this. If Sandra knows what’s up, we’re both fucked. We’ll both be in Lagos before the weekend,” he 
pleaded.
“That’s your bag of wahala”, I replied as I stomped up the stairs to the guest bedroom and slammed the door shut.
I didn’t open the door for the rest of the day. I don’t know what lie Tunde told Sandra. But, she didn’t bother me 
that night.

London:  Apple founder and CEO Steve Jobs has terminal pancreatic cancer and may live for just six more weeks, a media report said on Thursday.



The 55-year-old Jobs in January announced that at his request, the board of directors granted him a medical leave of absence so that he could focus on his health.

Since then, employees have said Jobs can still be seen at the company's headquarters in California and is also calling all the strategic shots from his home.

Now, new pictures have been published in the tabloid National Enquirer, which suggest things may be worse for the man behind the iPod, iPhone and iPad.

 The report said Jobs is stricken with pancreatic cancer and may have just six weeks to live.

The new photos show him looking painfully frail and weak, with his jeans and dark top hanging loosely on his six-feet-two-inches, frail body, the Daily Mail reported..

The pictures were not yet available online, but Jobs's weight is said to have dropped from a pre-cancer 175 pounds to 130 pounds now, according to the National Enquirer.

His thinning hair was a sign of the effects of chemotherapy used to treat the disease.

The photos, which were taken Feb 8, showed Jobs going for breakfast with his wife Laurene Powell before heading to the Stanford Cancer Centre in California.

Jerome Spunberg, a doctor, said: 'Mr. Jobs is most likely getting outpatient chemotherapy at Stanford because the cancer has recurred.'

Gabe Mirkin, a physician with 40 years' experience, said: 'He is terminal. What you are seeing is extreme muscle wasting from calorie deprivation, most likely caused by cancer. He has no muscle left in his buttocks, which is the last place to go.'

'He definitely appears to be in the terminal stages of his life from these photos. I would be surprised if he weighed more than 130 pounds.'

Critical care physician Samuel Jacobson also said: 'Judging from the photos, he is close to terminal. I would say he has six weeks.'

A source, who recently saw Jobs, added: 'He is very frail, moving like a weak, feeble old man. He weaves back and forth when he walks, as if he is having trouble keeping his balance, and the pain of every step is evident on his face.'

From India 

CHENNAI: Is Steve Jobs terminally ill? The National Enquirer, an American tabloid, reported on Thursday that Apple CEO Steve Jobs is seriously ill and quoted a doctor saying that Jobs might live for only six more weeks. The doctor came to the conclusion by "analyzing recent photographs of Jobs". The tabloid claimed to have taken the photographs while following Jobs to the Stanford Cancer Center at Palo Alto in California. Apple did not react to the report till late on Thursday night. 
While some may rubbish it as speculation, not everyone is optimistic because Jobs had taken his second medical leave in January, leading to renewed talks about his health. Besides, the medical history of Jobs is not too encouraging either: In 2004, he had undergone surgery for pancreatic cancer and in 2009, he underwent a liver transplant. 

The reaction over the report across India ranged from incredulity to worries over Jobs' health. "The six-week figure was arrived by someone looking at just the photo published by National Enquirer. That obviously can't be taken as credible information," said Amit Agarwal, renowned tech blogger who writes at Digital Inspiration. "Right now, Apple is very secretive and assertive with everything. Whether it's the procedure for allowing apps in app store or not allowing Adobe Flash on the iPad. A big part of this decision-making process is Jobs. If he leaves, maybe we can expect Apple to be a little less restrictive," he added. 


The Apple CEO, who is worth $6 billion, is currently on his third medical leave, and has battled a rare form of pancreatic cancer for seven years and had a liver transplant in 2009.
An Apple spokesman did not comment on the new photos.

For trying to have sex forcefully with his wife, a commercial motorcyclist, Adebunmi Makinde, got more than he bargained for in the hands of his wife, Omowunmi, who bit him on his penis.
His wife, a hairdresser, while defending herself in a divorce suit filed against her by Makinde at an Alimosho Grade ‘B’ Customary Court, Iyana-Ipaja, Lagos, Nigeria, told the court that she bit him because he wanted to sleep with her every night without taking care of her.

According to the 28-year old mother of two: “This man did not perform any formal marital rites on me as he claimed. We met at Egbeda in 2005 and because I had accommodation problem then, he accepted me and from there we became lovers.

“We fight everyday because he doesn’t give me feeding allowance. He gets drunk everyday and whenever he comes back home, he will start cursing me and the children. He also expects me to give him all the money I have for him to drink. The worst part of it is that he wants to sleep with me every night. Whenever I disagree, there is always a fight.

.
“There was a time I was cooking in the kitchen when he called me on the phone. He gave the phone to a woman who started cursing me. She said I should pack out of the house. Also, there was a time my daughter was sick and the same woman called me the same day she was discharged from the hospital, telling me that I have not seen anything yet.”

Omowunmi told the court further that she still loved her husband because she has nowhere to go and prayed the court to beg him on her behalf.
The petitioner, Adebunmi Makinde, who resides on 35, Uwagboe Street, Iyana-Ipaja, Lagos had in his petition before the court, described his estranged wife as a stubborn woman and urged the court to dissolve their marriage.
“My wife is too stubborn to the extent that I left home for her in September, 2010 when the quarrels were getting out of hand. She is not submissive at all. She always provoke me and if I had not been careful, I would have killed her a long time ago.
“She has destroyed all the properties in my room. Whenever we fight, she bites me on my penis and this led to my leaving her eventually because I don’t want her to destroy me. I have scars on my penis to prove this. I would have loved to show the scars to the judges, if permitted,” he stated.
After listening to both parties, the court adjourned the matter for further hearing and appealed to them to maintain absolute peace.

The Oyo State government has paid the sum of ₦339 million to the West African Examination Council (WAEC) as fees for the final year students of public secondary schools across the state.

Nureni Adeniran, the state’s commissioner for education, said in Ibadan on Thursday that the amount covers fees for 60,000 students. Mr. Adeniran, who was speaking at the state’s finals of the Annual Governor’s Inter Secondary Schools Debate Competition held at Teachers Resource Centre, Samonda, Ibadan, added that the government organised the competition to improve academic standard in schools.

He said it will also help improve their performance in internal and external examinations as well as develop their skills in areas of problem solving and leadership building. Mr. Adeniran said the government is helping the students to focus on tolerance and leadership qualities as it mobilises them through programmes on rewarding value systems.

Five schools featured at the finals of the contest and Atunwa Basirat of Obaseeku High School, Eruwa in Ibarapa East local government area, came first with 30 points while Akinsipe Gbemisola of Christ Ambassador Secondary School, Ibadan came second with 29.3% points and Babalola Biliaminu, a visually impaired student from Federal College of Education (Special) Secondary School, Oyo came third with 26.8 points.

The commissioner gave plaques to all the participating schools and cash gifts to the schools winning schools.

For the nation’s 50th year anniversary celebrations the president’s wife, Patience Jonathan, decided to share bags of rice to “alleviate the poverty” of local women – and did this in the crudest, most elementary way possible – by calling people together and throwing them bags of rice like beggars.

By the time she was through, there were plenty of casualties, some fatal, as citizens struggled not just for rice but also against the complete absence of crowd control measures or indeed any kind of preparation to handle the melee that was sure to ensue from that method of distribution.

The bottom line: someone wanted to make a public show of doing good, but the action was neither thought through nor planned well; a metaphor for many of this administration’s handling of crucial issues.

Last week however, it all became a bit too much..

At a campaign rally for the People’s Democratic Party at Port Harcourt sports stadium, where the president was heralded and governors received their party flags, it all ended in avoidable tragedy. Sixteen people died and many others were wounded from the stampede that ensued after a police officer fired into the air to disperse the crowd..

Unfortunately, this is no simple tragedy. According to reports, the problem began when crowds wanted to leave as the president was about to begin his speech. While there is no doubt that this probably had more to do with people’s impatience with speeches rather than any animosity towards the candidacy of Mr. Jonathan, his presidential security seems to have convinced itself that this would be embarrassing to the president. The guards therefore refused to allow the guests leave – especially because it appears the same thing had happened at a similar rally in Kaduna just the day before.

But a crowd that wants to leave is a crowd that wants to leave – and when the armed guards were unable to control the pushing any longer, one of them began to shoot. Evidently, in a democracy, a people cannot even choose whom to listen to and when, and it has somehow become a duty to sit still during a campaign rally. The result was chaos, death, and many wounded at an event where people came to answer the invitation of a man who wants their votes.

The information commissioner for Rivers State, Ibim Semenitari, confirmed the sequence of events. “As soon as governors finished receiving their flags, and the president was about to make his speech,” she revealed, “some of the people, who had come to celebrate with the president and their governors began to leave. Initially, the gates were opened, that is at the Liberation stadium. But people were leaving in an uncoordinated manner, and security personnel were trying to manage the crowd and in the process of managing the crowd, they shut the bigger gate. Then a woman fell down and the crowd started stepping on her, some other people fell subsequently, and more people were stepping on them; that was how the confusion started.

“Now, when that happened, the mobile police men, who were standing outside, shot into the air to scare others. They (MOPOL) released a shot into the air to stop further surge and rescue those on the ground. Unfortunately, that worsened the confusion and more people started pushing, rushing back, rushing forward, leading to more casualties.”

We are left to wonder, are the president and his staff - aware that he is in fact responsible for the security of the people he leads first and foremost?

Everything about this unfortunate series of events shows Nigerians that there is plenty to be worried about: the fact that the security measures were not only insufficient, but the course of action taken by those charged with ensuring crowd control precipitated the tragedy: the fact that the presidential guards took over the security functions that are usually the preserve of the local police: the fact that the government has not taken any steps to heighten security and crowd control measures in this election season that guarantees there will be many more such gatherings of large crowds.

How is the president going to safeguard lives in Jos if he cannot even safeguard lives at his own campaign rally?

As if to add insult to injury, speaking to newsmen after the incident, an obviously clueless Governor Godswill Obot Akpabio, of Akwa Ibom State, urged Nigerians to vote overwhelmingly for Mr. Jonathan as a mark of honour in memory of those who died in the incident. It would be comic if it weren’t so tragic.

After unnecessary denials and a concerted effort to minimise the true import of this story – the president’s team decided to put off his campaigns for a while in a mark of respect for the dead.

However, it is barely one week after, and the president is back on the campaign trail – this time to Jos, the same city he never visited while hundreds, even thousands, were being killed on his watch.

Indeed, there is much to mourn.

As we age, many of us notice a loss of mental sharpness and think that this is just part of getting older, but aging cannot explain the current epidemic of severe mental deterioration. The fact is the human brain is highly susceptible to living in a modern 'developed' society. Poor lifestyle and diet, ongoing stress, smoking and environmental pollutants all damage fragile brain cells. Alcohol consumption and many pharmaceutical drugs can cause severe memory loss. More and more children are showing behavioral and learning difficulties linked to pollutant exposures, and such difficulties can persist into adulthood. Altzheimers has become so common it is now accepted as a 'dis-ease' of the elderly.

People who abuse their bodies through poor diet and lifestyle can experience mental fall-off as early as their 30's, and for many others the problems become really noticeable during their mid 40's. These people who perform the worst for their age group are at an increased risk of severe cognitive deterioration in later life, unless they make a commitment to rebuilding brain function.

The brain uses 20% of the body's energy. It requires constant oxygen which it receives from the bloodstream and uses approximately 25% of all oxygen inhaled. Brain physiology is highly complex and has the power to influence everything we do. 
 

The Brain and a Healthy Diet

A healthy diet that attends to the specific needs of the brain may help neurons to achieve the most desirable chemical balance naturally. The brain being a hungry organ depends first of all on a healthy liver and gastrointestinal tract to use food well: to properly absorb nutrients and deliver them to the brain, to remove toxins and to maintain proper immune system activity.

Because the brain cells are largely composed of fat, the right kinds of fat in the diet are one of the most critical elements in creating and maintaining brain health. The same precious Omega-3 fatty acids that promote healthy hearts can also help our brains. Primary sources of those health-giving fats are fatty cold-water fish including salmon, mackerel, anchovies, sardines, herring and Atlantic sturgeon. Eat fish a minimum of three times a week. Canola, olive and flax-seed oil are good plant sources of Omega-3 fatty acids, with flax seeds, which can also be ground and added to foods, being the supreme, most recommended source.

DHA, one of the Omega-3 fatty acids, is the primary structural fatty acid in the gray matter of the brain, which promotes communication between brain cells by allowing synapses to remain soft and functional. By helping build myelin sheaths around nerve fibers, DHA facilitates chemical message transmittal. It helps the brain monitor mood and memory as well. As a component of breast milk, DHA promotes higher intelligence in children.

The B-complex vitamins work in chorus to promote brain and immune system health by protecting nerve tissue against oxidation, enhancing memory and insulating nerve cells. Your body requires B vitamins to produce many neurotransmitters. Besides meat, there are many good vegetarian sources of B vitamins, including whole grain pasta, grains, rice, wheat germ and nuts.

Because the brain in made up largely of fatty acids, it is susceptible to oxidation damage caused by free radicals - highly reactive molecules that attack and damage cell membranes, protein and even our genetic code - and in doing so bring about age and 'dis-ease'. Antioxidants are nutrients which combat and neutralize free radicals. The primary weapons in this ongoing fight are vitamins C and E, carotenoids and the mineral selenium. Many foods are rich sources of antioxidants. Carotenoids are found in dark orange and dark green leafy vegetable, such as carrots, sweet potatoes, kale and spinach. Vitamin C is found in citrus fruits and vegetable like broccoli and peppers. Vitamin E is found in seeds and nuts as well as soybeans and vegetable oils. Selenium is present in seafood, grains and Brazil nuts. Supplementation or reinforcement of antioxidants is recommended since they are the major police force of the body, thought to deflect virtually all chronic 'dis-eases' including heart disease, cancer, cataracts, Parkinson's and the aging process itself.

Staying Healthy

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Start out the day with a meal that is low in fat, high in protein and low in carbs and sugar. This will help you achieve peak mental performance during the day. Specifically eat protein first and then complex carbohydrates in your meal. The goal is to have the amino acid L-Tyrosine found in protein-rich foods reach the brain first, followed by L-Tryptophan, an amino acid whose relaxing effects are strengthened by carbohydrates.

Caffeine can improve mental alertness but limit its use to prevent addiction. It can leave you with unpleasant withdrawal symptoms such as stress, anxiety and irritability, and can be detrimental to overall health. Alcohol slows brain function and should be avoided if high mental performance or concentration is required.

A lifestyle which includes ample relaxation time, meditation, proper exercise and plenty of sleep all help to regenerate and invigorate our mental state.

In short, the way we eat can not only help us be more intelligent, alert and successful in mental activities, but also more balanced in our emotions and behavior. The way to build a foundation for a healthy brain is with a healthy diet and supplementation.

Phosphatidylserine - phospholipid substance that is a major building block for brain membranes. Proven to boost energetic and electrical activity across the entire brain.

Phosphatidylcholine - found in soy products and lecithin. Readily converts to acetylcholine, the memory neurotransmitter in the brain.

L-Glutamine - used as an energy source by the brain and is converted into glutamic acid, essential for cerebral function, and GABA, an important neurotransmitter.

Acetyl L-Camitine - essential for converting fatty acids into metabolic energy, capable of readily crossing the blood brain barrier where it promotes the synthesis of acetylcholine.

Hyperzine A (club moss) - functions as a cholinesterose inhibitor which prevents the breakdown of acetylcholine.

Vinpocetine (periwinkle) - increases metabolism of the brain by increasing blood flow, increases the rate at which the brain cells produce ATP (energy) and speeds up the use of glucose and oxygen in the brain.

Co Q10 - plays a critical role in the production of energy in every cell of the body. Increases tissue oxygenation.

Ginko biloba - herb which increases blood flow and oxygen to the brain.

Gotu kola - herb which energizes the brain and increases alertness (great replacement for coffee drinkers). 

The author

Chuck Homuth 
. 
Chuck Homuth is a Florida licensed nutritional counselor
who owns and operates three Chuck's Natural Food Markets and 
the Vitamin Shoppe in the Tampa area, FL. (813) 980-2005.

Extracted from: http://www.cerebromente.org.br/n14/opinion/improving1.html

Preamble:
This tie has got a bigger build-up than the impending royal wedding and, happily, cannot fail to be more interesting than that (but ooooh, what will Nicklas Bendtner wear?). Arsenal's task, of course, is to ensure that it is a good deal more closely contested than the last joust between the pair, which was as one-sided as a dissected frog – Barcelona, lest we forget, completed twice as many passes as Arsenal over the two legs last season and struck three times as many shots on target, leaving 22 tiny footprints on the Gunners' collective backside. Not ones to turn the other cheek Arsenal seek revenge and look better equipped than last season – the fitness of Robin van Persie and Cesc Fabregas' is a huge factor in their favour since then, as is the emergence of Jack Wilshere and the progressions of Theo Walcott and Johan Djourou. If they actually get the ball Arsenal could do serious damage, especially with Eric Abidal in centre of Barca's defence instead of Puyol and Maxwell unlikely to cope with Walcott's speed. Unfortunately I do not have a font big enough to properly represent the size of that 'if' ...

Teams:
Arsenal: Szczesny; Eboue, Koscielny, Djourou, Clichy; Song, Wilshere; Fabregas, Nasri, Walcott; Van Persie
Subs: Almunia, Roicky, Denilson, Squillaci, Arshavin, Gibbs, Bendtner

Barcelona: Valdes; D Alves, Pique, Abidal, Maxwell; Xavi, Busquets, Iniesta; Pedro, Messi, Villa
Subs: Jose Pinto, Bojan, The Argentinian Card-Magnet, Keita, Milito, Afellay, Adriano

Referee: N Rizzoli (Italy)

7:15pm: "It's the middle of the working day here in New York so I have to wait until I get home tonight to see a rebroadcast of this game," foghorns Daniel Barron. "Could you do me a favour and leave out the goals, red cards, serious injuries, head butts etc so as not to spoil it for me?" If it's purely boring commentary you want, I'm your man.

Predictions: I wouldn't be shocked if Arsenal won but reckon that to do so they will need to score more than once because they won't keep a clean sheet. They may also struggle to keep 11 players on the pitch, with Song, Fabregas or Wilshere the most likely to get sent off for desperate attempts to stop blue-and-purple imps flitting past them. All in all I'm going for 3-2 Arsenal but am not prepared to put any money on that. How about you?

7:25pm: "It's the middle of the working day here in New York so I'm going to ignore my paymasters and piss off to the bar to watch this game live," drools Ian Brunsdon. "What the hell does Daniel Barron do that's so important? I work in Kings County ER and I'm not missing this for all the gun shot wounds and broken limbs in Brooklyn." Wouldn't it be a rum thing if you got maimed in a fight in that bar?

7:27pm: "Everybody's talking about how Arsenal are stronger than last year with some justification, but on the other side of the coin it's worth noting that Barcelona have since acquired probably the best striker in the world and also have Ballon d'Or runner-up Iniesta fit this year, unlike last," hollers Nicholas Einhorn, who's forgetting that Arsenal have Koscielny and Djourour to contain Villa. Oh.

7:30pm: ITV has just shown footage of Messi warming up ... and as he attempted to control the ball with his instep, it instead whacked him in the swingers. What can that portend?

Atmosphere update: It seems Arsenal have provided all of their fans with little red and white flag, which are now being fluttered with twee gusto. As my colleague Gregg Roughley points out, "it's all very Last Night of the Proms".

Complacent Catalans? "Hi London, we'll be back for the final!" declares one bold banner in the Barca section.

1 min: Action! Villa and Messi take the kick-off and duly complete the first of their thousand passes tonight. "I'm watching it in Seville, and even here local TV are quite happy to bill this as 'probably the best football match in the world'. This in Andalucia, which is not exactly a Barca fanbase," yammers Charles Antaki.

2 min: Ominous start for Arsenal: Barca have monopolised possession so far ...

3 min: Alves sells Pique short with a pass and Van Persie nips in to nick the ball away and gallop down the left ... but the ref brings him back to award Arsenal a freekick. He should have played the advantage. Nasri whips in the freekick and the Barca defence fail to deal with it, but no Arsenal forward can punish them and the ball bounces into Valdes's hands.

5 min: Better from Arsenal! Walcott strikes fear into the heart of Barca's defence by skedaddling straight at them. He has Nasri free to his left but instead pass to Van Persie on the right ... and the pass was inaccurate. The chance dies.

6 min: Splendid save by Valdes after an excellent move by Arsenal! Walcott ducked and dodged his way across the box before feeding Fabregas, who hooked it over the top for Van Persie, who boomed it at goal from close range. Valdes parried superbly. Barcelona then tear down the other end, until Song curtails their counter-attack with cynical chop. A deserved yellow for him.

9 min: After Barca's bold gambit Arsenal have gained the upperhand and are looking brisk and confident, circulating the ball crisply and purposefully when they get it, which is more often than expected. "For some reason, I always focus on the upper-left hand three- letter team name abbreviations on the telecasts (MAD MAN for Real v. Man Utd. was a favorite)," honks TJ in California. "If this turns out to be the delicious fixture that most expect, a certain confectionary company is missing out on an easy product placement: Mmmmm ARS BAR!"

10 min: Fabregas misdirects a pass intended for Nasri. If he'd found his man an Arsenal attack would have been in full flow.

13 min: Excellent interception by Koscielny, who read Barca's intentions and strode out of defence to collect the ball in front of Messi.

15 min: Ohhhhh! Messi misses a sitter! He created it brilliantly, in fairness, cushioning an Iniesta through-ball into the path of Villa and then spinning and dashing for the return pass. With a dainty feint he put Szczesny on his arse but then dinked the ball inches wide from five yards!

17 min: After another long period of Barcelona possession Clichy wins the ball off Dani Alves by Arsenal's corner flag. But the respite is only fleeting as Barcelona quickly regain it and resume their probing. "I have the same fixation as TJ - a propos the letters in the top left corner," confides Bill Chilton. "My favourite was a Liverpool tie when they were playing Lille. The abbreviated Liv vs Lil sounded like an Eastenders old bat deathmatch."

19 min: Szczesny shows he is a member of what Ron Atkinson dubbed the Wide Awake Club by surging off the line to reach a Iniesta pass just before Villa.

21 min: Arsenal are just about keeping Barca at bay with frantic pressing but it's been quite a while since they had the ball in their opponents' half. "Please tell me that TJ in California is TJ Hooker," implores Phil Sawyer. "It would explain his obsession with confectionary. I would imagine the tightness of his belt looks even more uncomfortable nowadays."

23 min: Wilshere clears in extremis after yet another cutting move by Barca ...

24 min: As soon as Arsenal win the ball Barcelona buzz around them, win it back and fly forward. Wilshere was dispossessed mid-way inside his own half just now and within second Messi was meandering into the box and flipping a mercifully tame lob into Szczesny's arms.

25 min: Arsenal go close with another counter-attack and again Walcott's pace was crucial! He skedaddled past his markers and fed Fabregas wide on the right. The captain pulled a fine cross towards Van Persie, who would have had a free header into the net if it weren't for the meddling Abidal, who nodded clear.

GOAL! Arsenal 0-1 Barcelona (Villa 26') As Brian Clough said, it only takes a second to score a goal. A second and a dawdling Arsenal defender in this case. As Djourou and Koscielny pushed out to catch Villa offside, Clichy wasn't in synch. Hence the striker latched on to Messi's throughball and rolled it under the keeper.

28 min: Nasri booked for whingeing.

29 min: Van Persie slashes badly wide from the edge of the box a sweeping Arsenal move in which Wilshere was to the fore. And that came moments after Szczesny saved at the feet of Villa to prevent Barcelona from doubling their lead after they had carved Arsenal apart again.

31 min: Tippy-tappy-tippy-tappy-tippy-tappy .... Barcelona are taunting Arsenal with their passing. Arsenal are being reduced to the role of ghost-hunters as they seek someone to tackle ...

33 min: Koscielny ventures deep into Barcelona territory to rob the ball off Messi and instigate a helter-skelter Arsenal attack that culminates with a Van Persie shot being charged down at the edge of the box. "If Everton drew Godmanchester Rovers in the FA Cup, we'd have Eve vs God in the top left hand corner," bellows Gary Naylor. "A re-match that's been a long time coming."

35 min: Greedy Barcelona are hogging possession. In this week's France Football none other than Marco Van Basten declared that Barcelona would struggle against a team from "the English second division". He didn't specify which team - any ideas? London Welsh, perhaps?

NO GOAL! Again Barca pick their way through Arsenal but this time, after Szczesny saved from Pedro, Messi strayed offside before nodding into the net. Happily for Arsene Wenger the linesman was able to keep tack of the Barcelona forwards movements better than Djourou & Co.

39 min: Some encouraging interplay between Nasri and Fabregas around the Barca box before the latter shanks his cross. "I was impressed by Arsenal's control and patience earlier," announces Will Oliver. "But now they've gone down a goal, it looks like they're going to start kicking the Barca players. Can they play well and ugly at the same time, I wonder." Arsenal do look dangerous on their rare breaks but at this point I'd say they are more likely to get a red card than a goal.

41 min: Nasri tricks his way past Dani Alves down the left but, as ever, is quickly engulfed by other Barca players. Arsenal do manage to retain possession, however, but now with the level of serenity to which they are accustomed. They eventually do forge an opening of sorts, Walcott lashing at goal from 25 yards. But it was easily blocked by Abidal.

Half-time: Well that was breathless, engrossing entertainment. Arsenal need to stage a comeback as improbable as last year's. Barca have been brilliant. "If Oldham came over to the states for a preseason tour and took on the New England Revolution, it'd be Old vs New," belches Daniel Barron. "Fitting, seeing how you were once our colonizers." Me? Not guilty.

Half-time analysis: "For being such a pretty team to watch, Barcelona's kit looks like low-quality toothpaste, or a bar of soap, or a Post-It. Who picks out these colours?" wibbles Seth Sawyers.

"Colonizers? Sounds like a band of renegade robots with a penchant for performing impromptu enemas on their foes." - Phil Sawyer

"Pardon my Spanish, Paul, but seeing as Barcelona are pissing all over Arsenal at their own turf, would it be a too bold statement that this is the finest football team in history? I have rarely seen such a gulf in quality in a latter-stage fixture in the Champions League, ever." - Trygve in Oslo. Well I recall the AC Milan of Boban, Saviecevic, Desailly, etc dismantling Barcelona 4-0 in the final many years ago and that was mighty impressive. Mind you, could Van Basten & Co have done it against an unnamed English second division side?

"In last years Europa League semi-final second leg we could have had FUL vs HAM for Fulham against Hamburg, but no the directorial decision went with FUL vs HSV. Shame." _ Tom O'Dwyer.

46 min: Arsenal get the second half under way. "Hugo Chavez would relish the opportunity to watch friendly match between Chelsea and Maori Park FC as it would be shown on TV as Che vs Mao," whoops Pangeran Siahaan.

47 min: Strong start to the second half by Arsenal, with Wilshere at the hub of everything positive that they do. He has been their best player tonight, showing composure, drive and vision. His snapshot from 20 yards just now, however, did not trouble Valdes.

49 min: Clichy strains to cut out an Iniesta pass intended for Pedro. Smart work. "Arsenal should have ploughed the pitch yesterday like Man U did on their visit," haws Dave from Luxembourg. "Puts a stop to all this tippy-tappy football."

50 min: Arsenal are trying to unhinge Barcelona with their speed - there's a frantic air to their play as they seek to zip forward as soon as they get the ball. Barca are much more composed and precise. Have I said that already?

52 min: Song dives in full-length to dispossess Messi. Mis-time that by an instant and he would have been off. "I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity there when I saw him flying through the air," gulps Andy Townsend on ITV, seemingly having flirted with death.

54 min: In tonight's other game Shakhtar are roasting Roma 3-1 in Italy. That Serie A revival isn't going too well, is it?

56 min: Nasri releases Walcott, who teases Abidal before firing a low cross towards the penalty spot. Maxwell scrambles it clear, but Walcott picks it up again and knocks a cross back in. Barca's clearance is again unconvincing, allowing Van Persie to take possession at the edge of the area. He blazes over.

58 min: Strong defending by Pique to corral Nasri out of play after the Frenchman had threatened to burst into the box. Arsenal do get the corner, though. Chaos ensues in the Barca box but the Catalans eventually scramble it away. Promising signs for Arsenal as the visitors begin to look flustered. Pique, indeed, has just been booked and will miss the second leg.

60 min: Arsenal continue to pressurise and force a succession of corners. This half has been much better from them. An equaliser is certainly not out of the question. "I'm sure Sky used to use four letters to abbreviate each team, because I clearly remember a west ham vs Birmingham game being shown as WHAM/BHAM" Thank you, Christopher Ballard.

63 min: Eboue has been hurtling forward much more in this half, compensating for the fact that Barca had got a grip of Walcott after the Englanders early vibrancy.

65 min: Van Persie and Fabregas exchange passes before the Dutchman, rather predictably, curls a gentle shot into the keeper's arms from 20 yards. He's been tepid tonight, Van Persie.

67 min: Barca begin to reassert themselves. And Messi should probably have made it number two just now. Iniesta slipped the ball through to Messi and the Argentinian slotted under the advancing Szczesny ... but into the sidenetting. "A few years ago in the NCAA college basketball tournament, Bradley played Pittsburgh," drones Michael S Raum. "They show all of the scores from the other games in the corner, and so that game appeared as BRAD PITT."

68 min: Substitutions: Song off, Arshavin on. Villa off, Keita on. Intriguing.

70 min: Clichy intervenes to beak up another menacing Barca move. Arsenal were bewildered there for a minute or two. "If Watford played Rotherham United, it would be WAT ROT," squawks Namratha Hegde.

72 min: Koscielny cops an accidental boot in the face from Messi after beating the Argentinian wizard to the ball. Arsenal fan rather desperately call for a card. "Sky usually abbreviate team names to two letters these days, AV v MC for example," bawls Mark Gillies. "Thankfully there's no interest in Northampton Town's visit to Carlisle United."

74 min: It's all Barca, who are frustrating the home side, again, with their incessant keep-ball. In other news, Klasnic has put Bolton 1-0 up at relegated Wigan. "Playing against Barca a goal down and trying to get the ball off them must be like pushing two inverted magnets together," notes Stanley Lee. "The harder you push the harder the resistance becomes."

76 min: Arsenal substitution: Walcott off, Bendtner on. Walcott has been more polished this season but tonight he was back to his younger self, frequently wasting opportunities with wild passes or wrong choices.

77 min: The splendid Wilshere wins a corner for Arsenal. Valdes comes to clutch Arshavin's harmless delivery.

GOAL! Arsenal 1-1 Barcelona (Van Persie 78') He's looked a little out of sorts tonight but Van Persie has just scored with a freakishly accurate shot! Clichy released him with a canny ball over the top but from almost dead against the by-line the Dutchman seemed certain to cross. Instead he fizzed past the keeper at the near post and into the net. A preposterous goal!

80 min: Arsenal have their dander up now and are pressing for a winner, without any penetration yet. "I'm surprised no German came up with a fictional match between Borussia Dortmund and secnd division Ingolstadt 04," blurts Pedro Fernandes. "Surely the most BOR-ING match anywhere, ever?"

GOAL! Arsenal 2-1 Barcelona (Arshavin 83') Wonderful goal! Fabregas sent Nasri scampering clear from half-way. He could have shot himself but instead the Frenchman cut back and laid the ball across the box to Arshavin, who guided a fine shot into the net from 18 yards, completing the perfect counter-attack!

84 min: There is an incredible din in the Emirates now! This has been a superb turn-around.

86 min: Bendtner barges his way past Maxwell and Dani Alves in the Barca box and the tries to do a Van Persie by scoring from an absurd angle. This time Valdes saw it coming and was well positioned to divert it behind for a corner.

88 min: Chance here for Barca ... but Messi overhits his pass to Dani Alves, forcing the Brazilian to receive it wider than necessary. With the angle unduly narrowed, Szczesny is able to parry the ensuing shot.

89 min: Barcelona change: Iniesta off, Adriano on.

90 min: Since Wenger has often been accused of lacking tactical nous it is worth mentioning that his substitutions tonight have played a large part in this victory. If it is to be a victory, that is. Fourth official is maintaining the suspense by not yet disclosing how much added time there will be ...

90+1 min: Desperate defending by Arsenal, who eventually shank the ball clear after Barca provoked panic in their box. Koscielny, who may finally have won Arsenal's fans over with a fine performance tonight, was the saviour after Arshavin had goofed to allow Dani Alves a sight of goal. "You can go back to your 'intriguing' comment on the subs to find the source of this turnaround," howls Craig Smaaskjaer. "It was such a bizarre decision by Guardiola. Why change the way you play when the consensus is you are the greatest team on the planet? 1-0 up? Who cares! Terrible decision. Now Barca have to play their way back without that same shape or personnel. Wenger was chuckling to himself as he ushered Arshavin out onto the park."

Full-time: Arsenal have beaten Barcelona for the first time thanks to poor Catalan finishing (and perhaps even complacency) and a magnificent second-half fightback. This was a game that lived up to its hype. And the hype surrounding Jack Wilshere is just going to get louder and louder following this marvellous display. In this fabulous week for London clubs Arsene Wenger has just trumped Harry Redknapp. What price an Arsenal-Spurs Champions League final at Wembley?

Louise Priddy Dumps Ailing Bacchus Night Club

Half-caste Louise Priddy has dumped her claim to fame- Bacchus Night Club.Priddy Daughter to Ageless Mr Priddy proprietor of Road 14 Guest house in the heart of Lekki Phase One Lagos.The Priddy family is known for Entertainment with Brother Sean "Handling" many notable artistes like Dublin based Bad Man Floss & Kentro FLo Jackson of the Yahooze fame at their swanky guesthouse . 

Though details of the development remain sketchy, information has it that the pretty lady has stepped aside from management functions at the celebrity hangout.

Findings showed that she only appears at the Awolowo Road Ikoyi Lagos sited home of fun once in a while and for leisure purposes only.

Her attention is now focused on fun spot, Posh Café (inside Alon Nelken’s Mega Plaza on Idowu Martins, Victoria Island, Lagos.) She solely owned the venture put up for her by her husband Mario while Bacchus is a family business.

Those who should know disclosed that her elder sister, Oona, is being groomed to take over Louise’s function and position at Bacchus.

Insiders linked Louise’s withdraw from running her claim to fame to the need to do her own thing against the background of the dwindling fortune of the place.

Putting family and friends pleasure above business priorities and client’s satisfaction is cited as the cause of Bacchus’s present fortune.

Though it took a while in coming sources claimed the situation took an adverse turn when patrons staged a walk out and mass boycott of the place over what was tagged ‘unfair treatment’ from the owners and their acolytes a couple of months back..

The protesters claimed they were not respected and given deserved respect for patronising the business.

The management of the fun spot are yet to recover from the incident.

The resultant effect was a sharp drop in sales and naturally revenue.

The fun spot is said to be kept afloat with monetary support from patriarch of the family Olubankale Kereku Priddy- while the family explore strategies to revamp the place with their number one staffer, Louise out of the picture.

Uchendu, wife and babies

He was convinced that the parcel he picked was well loaded and among the best and, therefore, had no need to worry about.

But wishes, they say, are not horses. For 16 tortuous years, Uchedu lived with her wife, Judith, but without a single child to show for the marriage. Chief Uchendu did his traditional marriage on June 6, 1992 and church wedding on November 28 of the same year.

As the problem lingers, Uchendu who hails from Ibeme Ugiri in Mbano Local Government Area of Imo State set out in search for a solution.

This took the husband and wife from one place to another; from one medical prescription to another, yet there was no headway.

In a chat with Daily Sun, Uchendu said: “I did everything humanly possible for 16 years to see if I could get a child, but there was no way. I spent more than N10 million in the search for just a child, in fact, all the money I made within that period was all spent, and still there was no solution.”

But one thing that the couple had going for them was their absolute faith in what God can do.

“After sometime, we took a decision that we would not go to any where again in search of a child; if God would not give us one, we will accept His wish after all we’ve tried as human beings. After that decision, we stopped all medications towards this direction and hoped wholly on God”, Uchendu said.

Uchendu, a Christian of the Catholic fold, decided to put his faith in God in practice as he went into knighthood and was conferred with the Knight of Saint John International (KSJ).

Two spectacular things happened during the period that preceded his initiation into knighthood in September 2007.

First, his wife who although may have disagreed with him on some issues, but definitely not on the issue of child bearing, vehemently opposed his idea of going into knighthood.

Her reason, according to Uchendu, was that, “when one is initiated into knighthood, he would not marry two wives. She was afraid my family would accuse her of luring me into knighthood in order to stop me from marrying another woman who would bear me children. I told her to relax because all the while, she never knew there was no pressure from my family to marry another woman because we are a Christian family”.

The second and more spectacular thing which happened within the period was that as Uchendu was attending programmes preparatory to his knighthood initiation, his wife became pregnant and they never knew.

His words: “As I was attending programmes preceding my initiation into the knighthood, I never knew my wife had taken in. When it became evident, I asked her to go for scanning tests and the results showed he had only one child in her womb and we prepared for her delivery based on the result of the scanning.

“But God in His infinite way of doing things, my wife in February 2008, delivered twins (a boy and a girl). One came out at exactly 5.00p.m. on that fateful day and the second followed 30 minutes later,” he said.

As the twins, Prince Udochukwu and Princeness Adaeze were delivered, Uchendu said that at first he was confused, but later felt relieved.

He said everything around him changed as his house on School Road, Aba became a tourist site of sorts. People from far and near came to see for themselves if actually his wife given birth. Even some American doctors who attended to them in Nigeria when they were in search of the fruit of the womb, joined in the ecstasy of that moment. They went further to send gift items from America for the upkeep of the kids.

In the 16 years of waiting, wherever the couple went for medical tests, they were always said to be okay. But this never stopped people from cajoling them until it got to the point where they were in turn praised..

“Although within the 16 years of waiting, people said all sorts of things against us, but we were not bothered because we knew that one day, God will answer our prayers. After sometime, those who were cajoling and calling us all sorts of names, then turned around to praise and call us the best couple around,” he said.

Recently, the twins clocked two years and their father who had at their delivery presented a cow in fulfillment of the vow he made to God, treated them to a lavish birthday ceremony.

But like Oliver Twist, Chief Uchendu who asked for just a child, but God gave him two at once, is asking for more children, even as he said “at the same time, I will be contented with the twins if that’s all God has for me.”

The presidential candidate of the Action Congress of Nigeria, Nuhu Ribadu, yesterday, unfolded his party’s plan for the country with a promise to run a transparent government.

Speaking at the launch of the party’s presidential campaign in Abuja, Mr Ribadu said if voted into power in April’s election, he will run an “accountable, competent, experienced and virile” administration.

Mr Ribadu promised to bring change to everyone’s doorsteps, adding that while the other parties cannot grasp the significance of the silent revolution going on around the world, his party will help advance it to the next logical level.

Building a modern Nigeria

In a nine-page speech entitled: “Our nation’s journey begins,” the ACN presidential candidate noted that, “if we fail to urgently realise the vision of a modern Nigeria, the echoes of currently muted, but potentially destabilising change will soon consume our land.” He added, “This is the season of change, and its sweet scent is in the air. It is expressed in the image of our young people, and their demand that the business of governance can no longer be business as usual. Today, we are the vehicle of change. We are, because we are disciplined and we put Nigeria first in all that we do.

“It has become fashionable for everyone to talk mechanically about change in the country today, even those who have inflicted the worst injury to our treasury and our values speak glibly about change. But for us, the distinction is clear as daylight.” Mr. Ribadu stressed that the leadership the country needs is the one that will create a united, modern, secured and just society that will meet the demands of the 21st century, saying such a leadership must be ready to address the three fundamental ills plaguing the country; corruption, insecurity and economic failure.

Speaking on the party’s vision on a new Nigeria, Mr Ribadu said his administration will be guided by an unalloyed loyalty to party principles and programmes.

According to him, “Our platform is a social justice compact targeted to the transformation and development of the nation on the ethos of distributive justice. The cardinal principles of the administration we shall run will be defined by a keen sense of humility in government, a touching sense of compassion and a clear sense of integrity in government. The current asymmetric ratio of 75% recurrent budget allocations over 25% capital allocations will become a thing of the past. This odd priority in budget making does not support the true development, and only fuels corruption.”

Economy is power

He promised that his government will revitalise the economic and social sectors of the country such that the chronic problems of power, infrastructure, social amenities and unemployment get the true attention they deserve.

He added that his government will not condone corruption, pointing out that it will actively disable the capacity of corruption to regenerate, through a cocktail of excellent laws, professional enforcement, engagements and vigorous public education. Mr Ribadu said to achieve all these lofty goals Nigerians must vote out the government of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), which he said has done more harm than good to the country.

“As we are here, we are running a generating set. I slept in my house without electricity, even though it is very close to the Villa. Worst still, the government of PDP does not keep it promises, even to itself. In the face of its shoddy report card of abysmal failure at governance, the PDP can at least be self-respecting to excuse itself from the dignified gathering of the true apostles of change,” he said.

He said since the ACN has exhibited evidence of competent leadership in the four states it is administering, it has clearly earned the historical responsibility of leading the mission of change.

“Our challenge now is to reproduce that example of competent leadership at the centre when we take over the reins of power and form the next government come May 29. Nigeria is in dire need of transformation that is happening at the ACN’s states,” he remarked.

Our mission

The Chairman of the party, Bisi Akande, represented by the Deputy National Chairman, Boss Mustapha, said the party organised the colloquium for its flag-bearer to provide an avenue through which it will define its political philosophy and present to Nigerians its thought, ideas and policy options on fundamental issues of national development.

“This, we intend to do through concrete political engineering and consciously redirecting the nation’s politics from that of big men to that of big ideas. Our first step towards doing that is to come up with concrete and practical measures to eradicate absolute poverty, secure life and property, expand capacity in science and technology, facilitate and promote massive public and private investment in agriculture, housing and rural development among other critical areas of national development,” he said.

In his contribution, Adams Oshiomhole, Edo State governor faulted the inconsistent fiscal policies of the federal government, saying such policies send conflicting signals to manufacturers and do not protect the local industries.

He said, “In the morning, you prohibit the importation of item X and in the afternoon you legalise the importation. By the following day, you have changed the policy again. So it is difficult for those doing business to formulate long-term policies on the basis of the policies that government turns out every day. I think the challenge for the now and the foreseeable future is that we must put in place well-thought-out policies that would put Nigeria back to work. We must reclaim those industries that have been shut down.” Mr Oshiomhole noted that job creation is key to development saying, “when we report on the performance of the economy, we are criminally silent on job creation.” He noted that when people have jobs with decent pay,

they will not only look after themselves but after their families. As a former labour leader the governor expressed regrets that government after government close down factories, leading to the loss of over fifty thousand jobs in the textile factories in Lagos alone.

An endorsement for Ribadu

On his part, the former governor of Lagos State, Ahmed Tinubu, stressed that Nigerians have a new hope in the ACN which aims to sweep out the dreadful PDP government.

He said, “The PDP has no agenda for our country; the infrastructure is not there. Today, we cannot travel by road any longer. Ours will be a generation shift. Our presidential candidate is able, courageous, competent and well educated. They accuse him of stepping on many toes. But he stepped on many toes because the toes are infested with corruption.

‘‘I was the most haunted by the Obasanjo jack-boot democracy. Mallam Ribadu, the then EFCC chairman, investigated me severally. I was invited to EFCC. I was there from 10am to 7pm. But with the EFCC searchlight, they did not find anything against me and Ribadu did not manufacture any case against me, even though his boss wanted me nailed. This is the kind of man we must vote for because PDP is a blackmailer, a liar,” he said.

The colloquium was attended by the governors of Lagos (Raji Fashola), Edo (Mr Oshiomhole), Ekiti (Kayode Fayemi) and Osun (Rauf Aregbesola) states. Others were former chairman of PDP, Audu Ogbeh; National Secretary of the party, Lawan Shuaibu; former governors of Jigawa and Anambra states, Saminu Turaki and Chris Ngige; National Vice Chairman for southwest, James Kolawole; and Yusuf Alli, among others.

Ex-Governor Ayo Fayose Erects Eye-Catching Luxury Apartment In Banana Island

The name of former Governor of Ekiti State,

Mr. Ayo Fayose has debuted on the list of Nigerians who own properties on Banana Island- the haven exclusively for the well-to-do in the heart of Lagos.  

Findings revealed the soon to be completed structure to be blocks of luxury apartment.

Disclosed to be a twin building, it parades all of 12 block of flats.

Sitting on some two plot of land, the all brick wall property is located on close C, off Nasarawa Street on the paradise-like Island.   

Work men at the site have less than a month to deliver the project, a source divulged.

Parts of the facilities on parade at the place are a sprawling car park and a lovely swimming pool.

Though it not clear how much the hunky politician has expended on the project a piece of land where the building is sited is said to have cost him 450 million naira.

A visit to the site showed that work is being speed up to ensure that the deadline is met. Further findings showed the edifice will serve commercial purpose on completion.

Investigation revealed that most of the fixtures and fittings that went into building, except the furniture, were sourced abroad..

At the moment, an insider disclosed, the controversial politician who is aspiring to represent one of the senatorial districts in his home state on the platform of Labour Party is shopping for a reliable property company that would effectively handle the management of the property for him.

Hundreds of protesters took to the streets of Libya Wednesday in the first sign that the unrest which toppled governments in neighboring Tunisia and Egypt has spread to the North African nation.

Witnesses said protesters in the eastern port city of Benghazi chanted slogans demanding the resignation of Prime Minister Baghdadi al-Mahmoudi.

The Associated Press said that the crowds did not appear to direct their anger at Moammar Gadhafi, who is Africa's longest-serving leader. He has ruled for 41 years.

However, Dubai-based television news service Al-Jazeera reported that sources said the demonstrators chanted slogans against the "corrupt rulers of the country."

Al-Jazeera said the protesters had called on citizens to observe Thursday as a "Day of Rage," hoping to emulate the popular uprisings in Egypt and Tunisia and end Gadhafi's regime.

As in the previous uprisings, Libyan activists were using social networking websites including Facebook.

Libya's state-run Juna news agency did not carry any word of Wednesday's anti-government protests.

It reported only that supporters of Gadhafi were holding pro-government demonstrations in  Tripoli, Benghazi and other cities.

It said people taking part held up portraits of Gadhafi and chanted: "We sacrifice our blood and souls for you our leader!" and "We are a generation built by Moammar and anyone who opposes it will be destroyed!"

However, the online edition of Libya's privately-owned Quryna newspaper, which is based in Benghazi, said a crowd armed with Molotov cocktails threw stones.

'A bad night'
It said they protested outside a local government office to demand the release of the human rights activist, and then went to the city's Shajara square where they clashed with police and government supporters.

The paper that government supporters had taken over the square. Fourteen people were injured including 10 police officers, but none of the injuries were serious, the newspaper added.

A video clip posted online by someone who said it was recorded in Benghazi on Tuesday night showed a crowd of people outside what looked like a government building chanting: "No God but God!" and "Corruption is the enemy of God."

A Benghazi resident contacted by Reuters said the people involved in the clashes were relatives of inmates in Tripoli's Abu Salim jail, where militant Islamists and government opponents have traditionally been held.

Some were relatives of inmates killed at the prison in June 1996, when more than 1,000 prisoners were shot dead.

"Last night was a bad night," said the witness, who did not want to be identified.

"There were about 500 or 600 people involved. They went to the revolutionary committee (local government headquarters) in Sabri district, and they tried to go to the central revolutionary committee ,  They threw stones," he said. "It is calm now."

Following the rioting, a local human rights activist, Mohamed Ternish, told Reuters that the government was to release 110 prisoners jailed for membership of the banned Libyan Islamic Fighting Group.

The prisoners are the last members of the group still being held, he added.

On Monday, several opposition groups in exile called for the overthrow of Gadhafi and for a peaceful transition of power in Libya.

"Col. Gadhafi and all his family members should relinquish powers," the groups said in a statement.

Idris Al-Mesmari, a Libyan novelist, told Al-Jazeera by telephone that security officials dressed as civilians used tear gas, batons and hot water to disperse the protesters.

The news service added there were unconfirmed reports that Al-Mesmari was arrested hours after the interview.