THE RAST LAT; THE LAST RAT.

Holy Cross community primary school had at one time been the amongst the best secondary schools in eastern Nigeria, it’s beautiful English architectural structures stood as administrative block, assembly hall and hostels. The teachers were proud to be teachers; they took pride in their profession and performed at their best to attain the positions of the headmaster or principal. Looking at the statue of Emilia as she held that pot of water reignited some thoughts. It stood fifteen inches from the ground almost like the statue of Our Lady Mother of Jesus that stood in a grotto inside the premises of St. Theresa catholic church, Umuawulu: it stood few meters away from the school gate, Charles my son went closer to take a proper look at the white Emilia then he took a picture of her. We walked away from there towards the class block; I climbed the mahogany stair till I got to my class. It still had a little glory or so until Charles said “wow! daddy this class is ugly” I allowed his observation fly into the wind. I felt a sudden connection with my class again. It felt alive again with students all dresses in their white shirts, green shorts with a brown sandal to go with it. Being a good student, I always sat two rows away from the front through class one to class five.

………….. The year is 1971, we were still fresh with the memories from the war, so many boys in class five fought in the war but I didn’t; I was fortunate to be away when the soldiers came to my father’s compound to recruit young boys but really they captured boys. Many of them talked about it: about how brave they fought; how brave their fathers fought; how fast their older siblings rose through the ranks of the army but they rarely talked about any killings. The war still left a bitter taste in my mouth, papa and Nwachukwu my only brother were killed in the war and now it’s over. I wish it wasn’t maybe I would have the chance to avenge their deaths. What use was the war? ‘Arise and greet’ the boy at the front right corner of the class had said. Today was our first day in class five. We had all greeted the teacher; “Good morning students, I am Mr. Okorie, I will be your English teacher in this arm; I want to assure you that I can tutor you only if you are willing to learn and if aren’t, I’ll tutor you still’’ Mr. Okorie had said. We have heard so much of Mr. Okorie and how serious he was. His English prowess was excellent and his accent was the best I have ever heard; though it sounded slightly fainter than those I had heard on the radio, I thought he sounded like Richard green of BBC. His pronunciations were perfect; it wasn’t corrupted with the Igbo accent which is a lingua franca. “Out of the class you all! I want to separate the boys from the men, I want to know those who are worthy to be in my English class’’. I only hoped it was the same test we had upon our entry into form one were only those whose fingers could go over their heads to their ears were allowed entry into form one. “Boys repeat after me the ‘LAST RAT RUNS LAST AT LAST’; I reiterate ‘the LAST RAT RUNS LAST AT LAST’ ”. There was a chorus answer and he smiled. He aligned us in a line and one after the other we repeated those words; so many of my class mates kept shouting ‘The RAST LAT LUNS RAST AT RAST’ and his countenance showed how infuriated he was, he also felt pity. It got to my turn; I repeated the sentence after he had said it and I moved into the class. The class had only few of my class mates; the others stood under the scorching heat of the African sun; it was their punishment for mixing the R’s for L’s and vice versa…………………….

The flash from Charles’s camera had caught my eye, it brought me back to reality; he had just taken a picture of me as I sat on a seat obviously not the one I used thirty something years ago but precisely on the same position “come on dad lets go back this place is beginning to bore me” he said, I stood and walked with him away from my alma mater, a school that is now a complete opposite of its glory and beauty.

The December period is a time for merry and to reunite with families and friends, I still find time each time I’m here in the village to come and see this school; though still functional, but now churned out quarter baked student who can hardly make a proper sentence in English. I was schooled here and most of us were taught the use of proper tenses, how to construct good English sentences although our English was heavy with Igbo accent; but we had teachers who helped us kill the R and L problem, then we had Mr. Okorie; now we have non like him, no dedicated teachers because the government gives no concern to the education sector. There are so many schools like Holy Cross scattered around Nigeria, now dilapidated.

I can still hear Mr. Okories voice in my head shouting “boys shout the LAST RAT RUNS LAST AT LAST”. It’s funny how some people, mostly of a particular ethnic group misplace ‘R’ for ‘L’ in their pronunciations and all these comedians are making money from mocking and mimicking them; I laugh at their jokes, I can’t help but laugh. ‘’Charles” I call my son, can you say ‘THE LAST RAT RUNS LAST AT LAST’ ten times without breaking.

SAYING I DO

For the first time in my life i attended the church service of a wedding. It wasn't as boring as i imagined, actually it was an eye opener. The homily, families, ashebi women and the couple told me that the union called marriage is serious one. A union that goes beyond man and woman to both families uniting as one. Another lesson i grasped is that marriage isn't beans, it must be with the right person or else when the officiating father/pastor asks "will you take this ..." trust me you'll hesitate.

Way before all the ceremonies there must be an agreement between the guy and the girl. Probably they'll start out as boyfriend runs, then if she's found worthy it turns to fiance runs; if still worthy, the ring enters the finger. Between that transition period, a question will be asked of the girl "will you marry me".

Often, yes often i wonder how i'll ask that life changing question "will you marry me". Many would imagine its scene as one set in a restaurant(not mr biggs nor blue spot) somewhere serene with luther vandross playing in the background, a table for two obviously. Probably you both have a light meal and the guy orders a bottle of champagne to celebrate an expected answer. After enjoying the meal, he starts the sweet talk of how she's the only t.v station in his television, the only strand of hair on his head, the only honey(sorry sugar leads to diabetes) in his tea, the only groundnut in his garri and all those lie lie. Then you lean forward, a few would kneel and with their puffy lips those words would come out "will you marry me". Please i strongly advice men don't try to pull stunts like in american movies where a guy might put an engagement ring in the girls drink or in her food then she'll spit it out and ask "what is this", the dude will then ask "will you marry me". Abeg no try am. Our Nigerian girls haven't attained that level and don't intend to( i support them o). They'll ask you "ah ah you wan kill me, what if i swallowed it nko.

Really, how should a man ask the question; is it after a lengthy courtship, when the intuition says she's the one, when your mother brings a lady for you. HOW?

Sitting on the the fifth row and trying to take a glance at the couple was quite difficult because of all the ashebi women and their satellite gele obstructing my view. I could still manage to see the couple say those words "I DO". Words said without confusion, complete dexterity, and perfect smile; one they perfected when the officiating reverend father said "you may kiss the bride". I almost thought i felt tears in my eyes but i sure wished it was me saying i do.

LOVE AND RELIGION

Religion is really the opium of the masses, over time it has strategically been encrypted in laws, ways of life and governance. It is undoubtedly more expressive than love but is it more powerful? Religion is deeper than imagination, in it lies life yet in its depth lies destruction. Destruction they say is to save religion, these destructions to save religion are holy destructions such as holy wars, jihad, suicide bombings, terror attacks all in attack of the enemy. The enemy is an individual who professes a different faith or another religion. They say these laws are holy and true just like it is written in holy books: bible, koran, etc. What moves humans to be religious, is it a believe for an unknown God, location of birth; do we have proof to show our religion is true and supersede others.

Would you convert to islam at a latter age if you were a christian before. What is the motive, a cogent motive. Is it for wealth, for miracles and magic, for higher knowledge and wisdom, the strictness of one religion or to find the true God. Are we confused.

A few have carved a niche out of frustration more would say, perhaps out of a shallow search; atheism they call it. They, previously were religious but deeper discovery into religion have pushed them into disbelief. They asked questions: who is God, how was earth formed, what is the holy trinity. Maybe got no answers and like a sheep without a master they wander away.

Religion has infiltrated government and has taken control. What is religion and what is its purpose. From the times of Jesus; we see what the scribes and pharisees made of religion. That is what religion is today, for a long time, even before the time of Christ religions purposed has been destroyed. Yet we wallow in it.

Love, an unyielding force; the true reason for the death of Christ 'john 3:16' "for God so love the world ...", that very force is the nature of God. God is love

Love can turn bread to wine, though literary. It can do the impossible, its true manifestation makes religion mere air. A clear example is portrayed in humans by women. Women have showed mankind that love has surpassed religion. They have married men of different faith, beliefs and religion and converted.Critics have said that "it is in the nature of woman to be easily deceived" and further explains with the loss of virginity in females, "this loss by unmarried girls: teenagers, adolescents and youths to boys/men who merely lust after them perfectly illustrates the folly of women who interprete lust for love; they change characters, leave friends, disrespect parents, and can go miles to prove love". That i don't know but an iota of truth lies in them being deceived easily. But is that the reason they embrace any religion of the husbands, or have they discovered a truth.

A truth that religion interwoven in love is better than each as a seperate entity.

When i heard a man of God preach against other churches, religion and their followers, i thought of the perspective of God. 'God what do you think about the preachers statement' i thought. Did God really care about the churches modus operandi, other religion, or is He more concerned about our Love and devotion to him and our the love for our neighbours, which remains the greatest commandment of all.

Love, a character and an expression most of us lack but choose to hide underneath the fabrics of religion. Religion is good, love is better, love is God. God is love.

If i were a muslim or budhist, will i convert. I might not, i'll rather love and not allow religion overwhelm me.

May God give us the grace to love in the best way irrespective of our religion. That is quintessential, perhaps love is the best religion.

N.B: May the souls of all the lives lost in the name of religious violence in the Nigeria especially the northern part, middle-east, asia; may their souls rest in peace. Religion is not the way and has never been; love is the way.

MY LOVE LETTER

Yesterday, i was searching for an important document in my room. I scrambled, scattered and searched till my room floor was scattered with papers. It was an irksome search, yet aimless. Another drawer remained; i rested for a while, then reached for the drawer. As i opened and searched; to my amazement, it was letters from my dad to his penpals in U.k and America; and their replies too. I saw pictures of girls and guys but mostly girls, white girls actually. Most of these white girls had hair like the colour of corn flakes, nose just like an eagles. Point is they were all beautiful. I only wondered what my ol' man saw in blonde chicks. I noticed one particular picture of a certain girl and at the back page it was always written 'your friend, Cindy'. "Cindy ke" i thought. I only smiled and kept searching for my document, and then i saw another piece. I recognised the writting instantly, it was my primary school hand writing and i guessed it was either primary three or four. "damn! My writting ugly o" i thought. As i read on, it was primary three. It was the love letter i wrote to a girl in primary school. I could not believe it because i have a vague memory of my past, i only remember events from S.S 1 to the present. Yes i know my memory sucks!

I wrote...

Dear shade, i like you and i'm grateful for the sharpener and eraser you gave me yesterday. I'm sorry for the wound you sustained from seating on the pencil Uche set for you. I'll revenge for you, i'll set pencil for Uche for you....

Note: i can't complete the letter before you'll think i was so dumb in primary school. Or rather before you'll all steal my flows.

The first thing that came to my mind was, "did i write this". I hardly remembered Shade and our primary school parol, that is if we ever had any. "Who is Uche", i wondered but i sure must have hated the boy. But i remember a girl, she would often eat from my food flask with me during breaks while my sister would come later and see an empty flask. My ass would bear the brunt from mum later. I remember a girl i would rush to seat with during lessons so that my little legs would touch with hers. I remembered a girl that pecked me once in the toilet. "was it shade" i wondered.

I kept on my search for my important document and it laid there under the love letter. I only wondered if a document i placed well in my file was carried by some spirit to teach some lessons.

Lessons: Firstly, I should never allow one suffer because of my love for another. Like in my own case, my little sister did. So, to my lovely sister i apologise, "nne, i'm sorry for all the fried yam and eggs Shade ate"

Secondly, seems like my ol' man is got a serious affinity for blonde chicks. I guess i'm a chip of the ol' block.

THIN LINE BETWEEN RELIGION AND REALITY

I really cannot decipher the power of religion on humanity, but the effect on us is undoubtedly overwhelming. Over the years, religion has loosened its grip on reality, but it still grips. Its total leave from reality has the tendency to result in a chaotic situation; and a total embrace of religion results to dehumanizing humans to mere puppets. As years pass, people continue to seek ways to embrace religion differently; thus, a religion that will auger well will reality; but that will never be attained.

Recently my friends and I had some discussions on marriage and the contradiction between religion and reality. It was baffling to see that sects in Christendom have a law that prohibits the use of contraceptives, even in the matrimonial home. We all are aware that most religion opposes premarital sex; so the use of these contraceptives at such is a sin in the sight of God and even against our bodies. But how can one explain the rationale behind the disuse of contraceptives between married couples. Does that mean that I keep filling my wife with seeds and believe that the good Lord will be the birth control; and cease her womb probably after I’ve filled my home with a football team and some substitutes?

I read in the papers of a man who had asked his wife twenty-six years ago to go out and get pregnant so as to cover his shame of impotence; and as a submissive wife she did so. Now, he claims that he has given his life to Christ; that the bible says if anything should breach your way to heaven, cut it off. So he decides that discarding those kids will give him an express ticket to heaven. This real life situation paints a picture of an individual crossing the thin line again and the frailty of our conscience in the name of a religion. Obviously, people can be quick to criticize and curse the man ignoring the real reason for his decision. On a second thought, religion prompted that decision. He felt that a verse in the bible explains the ills of having such kids without deep thought about their emotions, their future. Understandably, he had a shallow understanding of that verse in the bible, but he is only an example of so many who misconstrue religion and crossed that thin line between religion and reality. If he asks God for forgiveness, tell those kids the truth, show them love, give them an education and keep them as his kids would he still miss heaven?

With my friends, our discussion digressed into sex and the effects of premarital sex. Everybody talked about its negative implication: about HIV, heartbreak, pregnancy, abortion and all the popular negatives. Our discussions unfolded a lot of issues, such as its positives too. “So premarital sex has an advantage”, I had asked. With cogent points raised and analyzed, I began to see premarital sex as a coin, double sided. Offcousre, its religious and societal implication returned my cajoled perception to status quo.

In reality, sex (marital or premarital) bonds a couple, it strengthens love; it explains the sexuality of each other. There, I listened to the story of a man who decided never to engage in sex with his fiancé until they were married but discovered during their honeymoon that his wife was circumcised, finds sex disgusting and painful. Many would say, “Why didn’t she tell him”, but go find out from men their reaction and you’ll understand why she didn’t. it is likely that the man would live the rest of his marital life engaged in extracurricular activities or rather extramarital affairs. Sex is between two individuals, if one lies like a log of wood while the other does the entire job; next time he’ll seek an individual that can respond to stimuli. Does this then encourage premarital sex? No, it only encourages us to be truthful. In religion, we are aware of the commandment “do not commit fornication”, yet that fornication can save you a lifetime of unfaithfulness. So what shall we do, do we fornicate. No, my hand no dey there o.

The line between reality and religion should be threaded carefully, a large step into religion cripples reality and another into reality separates us from a supposed reasoning. Instances for stepping out of this line are glaring: terrorism, religious riots, corruption and like the case of the man above; but in our everyday lives its glaring. Inasmuch as some would dispute the presence of a God, I do not. I believe there is a divine presence, a Chi ; who has commandment and expects us loves people irrespective of their religion and faith. He wants us to imbibe his nature, love and wants us to maintain the thin line between religion and reality. But religion conflicts reality, I’m not saying reality is better; it only baffles me to see the effects of religion on reality.

"I HATE NIGERIA"

Have you heard that the federal government has earmarked 250 million naira for a 'Nigeria at fifty' documentary. "What sort of documentary?" I asked myself. "I will like to watch it o". I made this comment and went to bed.

In my dream, I saw my humble self seated on the fifth role of Ozone cinema's with a pop corn and a drink next to a white guy. I tell myself "this documentary will be interesting, e go sweet o". Suddenly the lights inside the cinema grow dim, i'm excited. Then my head elevates and i direct my eyes on the large cinema screen. It starts.

It starts with the tune our National anthem, i feel proud as i sing it. The white guy next to me is mute; then a voice begins the history of Nigeria as the visuals begin. I see Obudu cattle ranch and all its splendour, the mountains, plateau, rivers Niger and benue and Lokoja their confluence; then the national theatre. Suddenly, the picture of IBB and how he commissioned the third mainline bridge in 1990. My popcorn is almost finished and there isn't anything intriguing about my country yet. I watch, patiently; the white guy is pressing his blackberry.

Then, another picture is shown, suddenly the white dude next to me spill his drink and screams "what the fuck man" like we were watching a horror movie. "What is it?" I asked. "Damm! men, that dude is ugly men" he says. I look and see the visuals of the 'ugly dude' in what seems to be the transition from military to civilian rule. I explain to the white guy. "That's our former president, Olusegun Obasanjo". The video beams the transition to Yaradua and all the celebration then to President Goodluck.

FILM DON FINISH O.

"Wetin happen?" i asked myself. 250million naira for a useless documentary. Why didn't they show us how we had a civil war only seven years after our independence, and the visuals of our several coup. I sincerely wished they didn't miss out how Muritala's car was destroyed in one of the bloodiest coups and how dirty it his car looks in the lagos museum presently. Why did they miss out all the WWF and boxing in the federal house of assembly and some state house of assembly too. It's not fair that they missed out the pictures of Gov. Alamenseigha dressed as a woman in london and that of Olabode George in kirikiri. There is no visual of a popular house of representative member representing Edo state who speaks english i call "insult on Nigerians". Mr. Macadabance. Perhaps that would have added humour to this sham, since he seems to be the comedian of the lower house. That voice in the background forgot to give a statistics on the number of unemployed youths, our inflation rate, the high rate of kidnapping, papaknapping and mamaknapping. I didn't hear about corruption, political killings, election irregularities, NEPA problems, militants, incessant strikes, Oil spillage, the Niger-Delta and so no. Not even a solution to all those problems.This documentary is a chicanery, a complete hoax; yet a complete opposite of the present Nigeria. I kept shouting in the cinema. "Lie, rubbish, this is bad". I kept shouting till i woke up.I open my eyes as i shouted "I HATE NIGERIA".

I don't hate this country, that statement was involuntary. Just like we shout the name of our Lord 'JESUS' when we wake from a bad dream. As I still lay in my bed i wonder. "Could it be my inner feeling for this nation. Do i really love this country or am i professing the words 'i love Naija' to sound patriotic. Am i forever bound to this country like a wife to her husband: in sickness and in health, in looting and in kidnapping until death do us path. Or, do i divorce. As marriages are broken on grounds of infidelity; so can my marriage to this country be broken on the grounds of infidelity too. Besides, Nigeria has been unfaithful to me. Yet like Hilary Clinton i still stick to Bill.

You, do you honestly love Nigeria?

STATE OF INSECURITY: ROLE OF THE YOUTH

Recently, during a confessional session in a Catholic Church a man was adamant to move when it was time to adjust to the next pew. He was spoken to but remained mute and kept his gaze on one direction. Few minutes later after preying eyes pounced on him, a glimpse of a Tasbih ( islam prayer bead) was seen around his neck, his countenance looked fierce and his beards intimidatingly conspicious and full. Immediately, that ignited fear in the church. The following reaction was noticed amongst some youths: few said a sign of the cross and walked out without saying a word, a few left their pews and moved a farther distance probably guessing that his 'bomb' if detonated will not reach their newer pew positions, others went to get the security. When the church security arrived, it was noticed that this individual was insane and had no `bokoish` intentions. Now like the parable of Jesus I ask you, "Whom amongst these ones was the wisest?"

It is stale news that this nation has been plunged into an abysmal depth of insurgencies uncontrolled by a government that most Nigerians perceive as incompetent and corrupt. Seemingly, an unpertubed adjustmet and attitude is potrayed by the youths; therefore no effort to cushion this menace. Perhaps a good definition of the word `youth` must be aired to refresh our minds to what group of people fall into this age group before we proceed. Many Countries draw a line on youth as the age at which a person is given equal treatment under the law - often referred to as the `age of the majority`. This age is 18 in many countries; however, the operational definition and nuance of the term `youth` often vary from country to country depending on the specific socio-cultural, institutional, economic and political factors. Based on this, all young persons of ages: 18-35 who are citizens of the Federal Republic of Nigeria is termed Youth though the United Nation loosely defines youth as any person whose age falls between 18-40 years.

Currently, we are faced with insecurity problems and our mileu has been tagged insecure by foreign countries. Glaringly, we have transitioned from a contemporary art of insecurity with armed robbery, internet frauds which were poorly managed to more sophisticated ones: terrorism, kidnapping and bombblasts which I often refer to `bokaharaism`. This depleted state of insecurity in our country has gone beyond the shores of the Nigerian police alone; it is a responsibility that calls for all backs to bear. True, the basic amenities and responsibilities of government is now a burden on us due to a poor dispersal of the commonwealth of this wealthy nation. Insecurity has always posed a challenge and until recently has taken an apex position amidst the pyramids of problems that surround this country. In all these, what role has the youth played? Maybe i should rephrase, "You, yes you whose age falls between 18-35, what has been your contribution to curbing these cacaphony of uncontrolled security problems?"

We have truly misconstrued who we are up against, for a mentally impaired individual to be tagged an enemy based on his looks, countenace and religion alone is discriminating. I must point out here that because we share a different religion doesn't tag one as an enemy. An individual on a bead other than the catholic rosary is not an enemy. One whose perception on religion contradicts ours is not an enemy either; rather we must ask,'' who is the enemy?'' What characteristic feature must a group or individual possess to blacklist him as enemy? Therefore the brewing hatred toward the muslims which has been noticed and potrayed by some christians is not right. Rather the factors that has hiked these security problems still remain a corrupt government that refuse to provide jobs, wicked political motives, a family that has too many children than they can afford and many more. More recently, these problems are stemed from an instilled fallacy that is inculcated in the mindset of a certain people. We all are factors that indirecly contribute to these problems Therefore what must we do? What must the youths do?

As youths it is our collective effort that can curb this virus, though impossible to nimb by its bud but our reasonable approach can go a long way to curbing the menace. It pains me that many Nigerian youths i've come across irrespective of their congregation and religion pay less attention to the happenings of the polity but are more particular about brazillian hair, musical videos, parties, blackberry phones; boys wearing tight pink and outrageously coloured trousers; girls prefer to display cleavages and wear provocative wears.

The Christmas bombing in Madalla is still fresh to us. Perhaps if it happened in our church, God forbid! What will you tell God if you appeared in heaven holding a blackberry torch, a micro mini skirt, a brazillian hair, a cleavage displaying top; or if you were a guy, you appear in front of the Lord with a purple top, an 'obey' cap and a wallet full of condoms. Are we better than those killed in madalla.

Like the aforestated parable, how will our reaction be. Are you going to run away selfishly without notifying others? Are you going to pray to God for our own personal protection and run away with your tails folded between your legs; or are you going to call the attention of others. We are in the internet age and obviously without a gun we are armed with the internet and as the most populated age group in this country it is our responsibility to convey sensitive and helpful informations via the internet to curb the rising insecurity problems in our own little way. We cannot totally annihilate insecurity but we can try and try we must.

Therefore rise and respond to the unbearable state of insecurity! Our eyes must be sharper i mean `shine your eyes`, any unscrupulous activity should be reported to the appropriate authorities. The internet should be used as a medium to sensitise the public. Yet, we must never forget the power of prayers, the power of the Rosary and that of the Church. The power of the youth is burning. Let us use it wisely, positively and responsibly to curb this menace on our security and our Nation at large or the result of our recalcitrant lackadaisical attitude will be an obvious catastrophy.

EZEANYA OLISA