So I finally attended what should be my first book presentation (bookworms Oj-Uknaija and co. shift, make a little room for me to the left ). It was Uche Nworah’s “The Long Harmattan Season” Abuja book launch held on the 26th of July at Chelsea hotel. It’s basically a collection of the articles he’s written over the past few years as an internet columnist. Having narrowly missed his wedding two years back I couldn’t afford to miss this one as well; the brother has been one of my blogging inspirations!

Being a true son of the soil I kept to Nigerian time attendance wise, thus I missed the review by Reuben Abati. But it was still enough for me to come to the conclusion that the presentation was great as a whole. I liked the caliber of guest and the event’s organization, although the attendance could have been much better. The MC for the day a bosom friend of Uche was cracking us up non stop and all others who spoke (bought a copy/copies of the book and supported the course) had nice things to say about the author. I Impressed myself by giving a nice commendation speech (I wonder if that’s enough to get me on TV) after which the good times rolled as I grabbed a copy of the book which Uche duly autographed and then graciously posed with him for the paparazzi . It was nice finally getting to meet the brother and physically giving him my regards and having him acknowledge such.

By the way I was at the event with fellow blogger Josh from “What It Is”, who was a really good friend on the day as he saved me from some potentially embarrassing situations. The sad side to the whole thing though was that Uche was attacked and robbed some days earlier. Materially he lost a lot but luckily and more importantly he came out alive and with just a cut on the head. That explains the plaster he had on at the event.

I guess that’s it for now so I can get back to reading the book (my my, the packaging is top notch unlike a lot of Nigerian novels, anyway it was printed abroad so I guess that’s to be expected )…although I have already read quite a number of the articles online. That reminds me since it’s a “blook” a lot of the colourful online responses (comments) to the articles will be missing…how sad. You know we who are familiar with the guy know that he’s great with the pen but does at times allow his emotions to come too much into play thus considerably reducing the substance of his writings.

The event flyer; I’m waiting for Uche to upload the pictures and give his take on the event so that I can give this post some proper footing.

As a Batch B corps member service year for me started in September 2006 to end sometime in mid August 2007. And these are the top ten things (listed chronologically not by importance) I won’t forget about my NYSC induced stay in Benue State. This write up is actually Kind of premature in timing considering the fact that I’m not yet done serving, but I still think the list would be the same even if I waited until after POP (Passing Out Parade: the official ceremony to mark the end of a service year) before writting it.

1 The 3 weeks Orientation Camp
What more can I say about this, I’ve already said it all here: “A September to remember”. In addendum sha the orientation camp in Gboko is definitely the most interesting place I’ve ever visited.

2 My Mum’s passing away
This happened 3 months into my service year and was the saddest part of it all. I still vividly remember the last (phone) conversation I had with her at the Zaki-Biam market right after I made my first trip to neighbouring Wukari in Taraba State; it’s a moment I won’t forget.

3 Getting my Laptop
My Dad got that for me 4 months into the service year. It’s the best quantifiable gift I’ve ever received…and it changed my life in many more ways.

4 Bendra
I’m a softie at heart often falling In and out of “crush”. I got to know Bendra on the 1st of February. She, my phone pal now turned fellow corper kept me company many boring NYSC nights, particularly in February and March.

5 Becoming more Independent
NYSC being the cushioner before submerging into full blown adulthood it helped me become more independent as a person. Amongst other things I became cooking and job hunting certified and on another level Mum being gone and Dad being far away I learnt how to purposefully run my life.

6 The friends I made
Service year offered me the opportunity to make so many new acquaintances (a lot of them being people of my age) and have new perspectives on the behaviour of different people. Being that no man is an island onto himself that certainly was a big plus.

7 The Corpers lifestyle
Damn, it sure was good while it lasted. You know: the goodwill and respect showed to me because of my status, managing the allawee pocket change, my secondary school short teaching experience, the fallout with my employer, the partially ghosting months, my Ebonyi State corper to corper trip, my financial secretary portfolio, the community development service, our corpers’ week activities, my batch’s roundabout project runs etc. I’ll miss it all.

8 My increased Nigerianess (Tivness)
Service year made me a more complete Nigerian by my ten fold increased acquaintance with the Tiv ways. It’s during the time that I found out that I could be completely detribalized, and that’s after freeing my mind from the entire stereotype and bullshit our parents and elders instilled in us. I could be in a bus for hours and be the only one not able to speak Tiv and my mind would still be at rest…not feeling any uneasiness at all. On a lighter mode I can now distinctly recognize the Tiv accent. So if I’m out of the state and I hear a Benue man speaking I’ll most likely be like: “hey Dude you’re Tiv, how far now!”

9 Getting my mojo back on with the NIM exams
I’m talking about the NIM-NYSC Proficiency Certificate in Management exams. I studied, wrote and I’m sure will pass them well. It left me feeling personally fulfilled…you know erasing my procrastinating academic past and setting up myself for a glorious intellectual future. Of course my new found love for the library also helped in this revival.

10 Getting my Articles published in the NYSC 2006 Batch B souvenir brochure
Yep, two old blog articles of mine: “And time stood still” and “A day in the life of a Corper (Corps Member)” (this is still subject to confirmation though as the magazine is not yet out, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be good). I’m excited about this as it’ll be the first ever time an article of mine would be in print, although I’ve been countlessly republished online.

Smiling happy children and mud huts, a constant feature during my NYSC days

As an add-on if there’s one thing I have to say about the NYSC scheme it’s that for most participants it won’t likely be career and financially rewarding but engaging in the teaching (there’s a 9 in 10 chance of doing that for your primary assignment) and community development work under it is a life changing experience for the better.

I’ve got a lot of mentors (I’m sure we all do) but for now I just feel like talking about these four and how they’ve particularly affected my life. It’s going to be sort of like a meme thing.

G.A.M. Ikekeonwu
He was my computer science lecturer year 2002/2003 when I was in UNN. I loved the writing style he used in his computer appreciation text book. Nerdyness combined with a great sense of humour, sheer genius! Plus he uses four names officially and is referred to by his initials just like me! GAM is definitely the kind of person I’d like to see myself as when I’m in my late 40’s/early 50’s. And his facial features, manner of speech, countenance, carriage etc rocks! Don’t get me wrong I’m not broke back, I’m star struck!

Modenine (Segun Babatunde)
Modo (one of his nicknames amongst many) does hip hop for the intelligent, not necessary social conscious stuff but wordsmith ish. I don’t know about you but for me he wins the award for the best and consistent use of punch lines or puns I’ve ever heard from a rapper (be it American, Nigerian or whatever) in my 8 year intensive hip hop listening. I first got to know Modo in 2003…that was before he blew up. His hip hop show on radio then was always a joy to listen to because on-air presenting came naturally to him. I recorded my first demo at his crib and although the songs were below average he encouraged me and even gave me my first spin on Abuja radio. I love his prolific ness behind the mic (I guess that’s what we all wish for in our various fields of human endeavour) and his determination to keep on doing what he’s doing despite the initial set backs and little encouragement. It’s a pity that as a rapper the limelight for him came only in his early thirties; nevertheless it came all the same. In the sea of below par hip hop artists Modo stands out as one educated fellow who has paid his dues ten times over; much respect to the Ninestien!

Download or better yet cop Modenine’s latest work: a mixtape done alongside Kraftmatics titled “nigelbenn’s kraftwork”.

Obifromsouthlondon (Obiora Orjiekwe)
Having the same Alma Mata as me in UNN and doing the Naija to UK Taught Masters ish people my age often do for a foundation, what do you get when the house is finally built? A hip hop head that is in the IT field, had a one time powerful blog, a big time sense of humour, a laid back personality and a beautiful family… Obifromsouthlondon! Mister you better get a restraining order against me because if some of your shine doesn’t rub off on me when I’m in my thirties alarm go blow oh!

Philip Umeadi Junior
This legal practitioner is the INEC Commissioner for Publicity and Information. Listening and watching his media briefings during the April general elections and his numerous press interviews after that this bag of brains easily won my heart. The brother accepts his faults; defends himself cool headedly and objectively and with utmost respect for the debate-dialogue process no matter how annoying his opponents might be. I hold the learned fellow in high esteem as he inspires me in my effort to get writing and speech professional vis-à-vis shaking off my Ebonics obsession. Admittedly on occasions (when I’m overly conscious about it) I have problems when arguing points out verbally, so I like to take my time to reason things out first, as lack of time often leads to the quality of my decision making being inferior.

I hate the importation craze in Naija; yes I really do hate it.

I know importation is necessary in a globalized economy. What, with the comparative advantage theory and all; but Nigerians have taken it too far. Sometimes when I’m walking by and sight stacks upon stacks of imported items, a lot very storage dusty I shake my head and wonder when they’ll ever be completely sold out. In my opinion supply enormously outnumbers demand. As some people say all that remains now is for us to start importing tooth picks. Close your eyes and imagine Dayo Adeneye and Kenny Ogungbe of Kennismusic bragging about their imported tooth picks (P. Diddy style) on TV and you’d get my drift.

I hate it when I hear Nigerians say with relish (instead of with shame…well that’s how I opine they should feel because that’s definitely how I feel when I hear them) that the goods they’re selling are imported or the stuff they’re working with are imported, can’t be gotten any where in the country and so them and their business are the real deal.

I also hate the customer obsession with owning or identifying with imported stuff. Close your eyes here and Imagine Nike and Dooshima of Cool FM Abuja on the radio program Girl Talk with their phonetics, annoying girlish demeanor and all.

Nike: Have you got the latest in fashion XYZ? All my girlfriends seem to have it.
Dooshima: Yes I have, I got it at ABC boutique after watching “Spiderman 7” at the MN cinemas.
Nike: Uuh uuh (doing the Girl Talk shout)! Girl you rock, let me see.
Nike (after inspecting the piece): No Honey this is not right, it’s Aba made, shame on you.

We should stop the import craze and promote our own. Starting with the government, they should encourage our indigenous manufacturers through solving the electric power problem and checking smuggling of illegal goods into the country.

Honestly look at it this way; this is what our degrading importation culture can be compared to:

A husband being proud that when it comes to sex…making babies, his neighbour and best friend regularly gets the honour of impregnating his wife and so all he does as husband is peck her on the cheeks and pay her bills.

Note: 1) pricing as used here is not the dictionary meaning of the seller fixing a sum for a good/service but the Nigerian parlance meaning of a buyer bargaining for a good/service. 2) To dash someone something means to give that thing away. 3) Aboki is a word used to mean a poor Hausa man involved in a low income trade/job.

Finding a blog that suits my taste in the Nigerian blogosphere makes me really happy. The feeling is almost as if I won a lottery. So yesterday I “discovered” the blog Aijuswanarite owned by a guy called “Snazzy”; a 2006 Batch B youth corper like me; and I spent the better part of the night and this morning reading his entries (at this point the Jiminy Cricket side of my conscience gives me knocks for wrong use of time). And one of the entries titled “People are Cheap, Things are Expensive” struck an inspirational cord in me. The summary of the entry is that some Nigerians don’t mind being over-charged for ostentatious goods or services but would haggle like a church rat when buying goods or services from poor sellers.

Very true, so let me highlight two of such cases that I’ve witnessed that stuck to me for a very long time and made me really sick.

Sometime in November last year in the early days of my youth service when I was still settling down into my place of primary assignment and equipping myself with bachelorhood skills I went to the market with two of my female corper colleagues. The way one haggled over frozen fish disgusted me. The fish was cost at 70 Naira but she spoke “long grammar” in a nose-in-the-air manner, broke into vernacular (the seller was also Igbo) and used the we’re-poor-corpers line just to buy the fish at 60 Naira. The seller pleaded with her to be considerate and that the price was worth it at 70 Naira but in the end she left her to buy from a rival seller at 60 Naira. I’m pretty sure that in her mind the turned down seller cursed my colleague and that the rival sold out just to make sure she made some sales for the day.

The second incident was at a cyber café about two years ago. An over-weight, Igbo guy in his early thirties was seated near me (a customer as well) and in the manner he carried himself and spoke he fit the bill of the wealthy womanizing type. He was making life miserable for a poor Hausa shoe shiner over change. Apparently they had agreed on 15 Naira as the price for the service but he refused to give the aboki the 50 Naira note he had in his hands until the aboki found him 35 Naira change. Here’s a guy that’ll probably later on spend thousands on beer and on his girlfriend but didn’t deem it right to dash the poor aboki 50 Naira. The annoying part was that he felt smart ass about whole thing. I swear that day I wanted to puke.

That’s why although I’ve not got much I take it easy with the pricing bit. Yes when I see sellers displaying their wares in the hot sun who’re not smiling I try not to be a cheap ass.

This Okada (motor cycle) rider will probably make it from the school to the house (or vice versa) in eight minutes.

Around the world in eighty/80 days…I love the phrase, the cartoon and the movie. But for this blog post it’s more like around Nigeria in eight days. As you can guess I’ve been on the move a lot in the past few days, crisscrossing different places in North Central and South eastern Nigeria (six states in all in addition to the F.C.T.) that I’m almost beginning to liken myself to the PDP presidential campaign team in last month’s general elections.

These are the places I’ve touched: Abuja, Nassarawa (passed through Keffi, Akwanga and Lafia), Benue (Markurdi, Katsina-Ala, Zaki-Biam, Gboko), Enugu (Enugu, Obollo Afor, Nsukka), Anambra (Awka, Aguata L.G.A.), Ebonyi (Abakaliki) and Kogi (passed through Ayangba, Ajaokuta and Lokoja).

So what was the reason for my travels? Uhm…to attend to important matters of personal interest. Anyways here’s stuff I’ll rather talk about: contemplations from the travels.

From the much I’ve taken-in in the last eight days I think writing a book on the living, farming and public transport habits of people in North Central and South Eastern Nigeria is in line. Right now I’m a mobile uber store of knowledge that it’ll be a shame if I don’t bequeath some of my knowledge to humanity…I’m just kidding…partially.

The provision of good (tarred) roads…and social amenities in general to the citizenry by the government makes a big difference to the psyche of the people. It determines how happy, patriotic and cooperative they’ll be, how well they’ll get along with each other and how crude or morally upright they’ll become. It’s no wonder then that a lot of Nigerians don’t wear their national team’s jerseys or bathe themselves in national colours during Super Eagles games. They instead prefer to drool over European soccer because that’s a more mutually benefiting investment (top quality football in return for getting high off the passion and fun of the most beautiful sport on earth).

Abakaliki the capital of Ebonyi State surely is one of the neatest towns in the South East! Yes where I visited was around the Government/State House environs (situated in the heart of town) but intuition leads me to believe that places far off wouldn’t probably be different. Having grown up in Abuja and being used to impeccable surroundings I’ll choose to set up shop from scratch in Abakaliki any day over taking a free house in Enugu, Awka, Nsukka or Onitsha (those places are crowded and dirty!).

Forget the fact that we’ve got new, crisp and clean Naira notes; they’ll all eventually get soiled because of the inherent “dirt” in our monetary exchange system. From the drivers, conductors, bus stop and motor park hustlers living from hand to mouth, to the youth corper working for peanuts and still having to fight before giving his rightly due peanuts and the benefits attached therein, and on to the project manager having to deal with the issue of productivity on one hand and the major expense of paying staff salaries on the other hand. Despite all of that there’s still a feel good feeling attached to being hailed and respected as a big boy because you’ve got money to spend on others.

Last point, a cardinal rule to follow when setting up a cyber café is to make sure your business quarters is spacious. Surfing is like working, it’s best done in a conducive environment, and if you want to stand the test of time such an environment must not only be good enough for the average chat-freak teenager but also for a top business executive. Avoid too many system restrictions and do carry out maintenance work on your systems on a regular basis. And off course customer service must be top notch and very professional.

One’s state of mind = one’s mental or emotional attitude or mood. In his song “I dey feel like” because he’s found love 2face Idibia feels like Obasanjo (feels as powerful as a Head of State because his girl loves him), George Akume, Jolly Nyame, Bill Clinton, Nelson Mandela (because his girl fights for him), Jay-Z (because his girl’s as fine as Beyonce), Bola Tinubu, Bob Marley (because his girl makes him high), Abubakar Atiku and Donald Duke all in one. For me, I’m in a job hunting state of mind and this is how I’ve been feeling.

Bank PHB’s The Intern Reality TV Show is closely related with my Job hunting state of mind

I’ve just paid yet again another exorbitant taxi “drop” fare. And in my mind I curse Nasir El-Rufai for banning the use of motorcycles “okadas” as public transport in Abuja. It’s meant that non car owners like me whose (everyday) movement involves going to places with no bus routes have to pay through their nose to transport themselves around the FCT’s municipal area.

After the grueling job aptitude tests and the days of waiting the boss man breaks my heart at the interview. Hear him: “Youngman you’re my number one candidate and all but we needing batch A corpers serving in Abuja and you being a batch B corper serving in Benue it won’t just work. Don’t worry I’ll let you know when we have other openings”. At that moment I felt like a girl who’s just been treated to a wonderful night out by her boyfriend only for him to announce he’s dumping her and then give her a good night kiss.

An hour has passed since bumping into Ifeanyi an old acquaintance of mine when I was in the university. Looking exhausted he told me: “Nna Tochi, e no easy oh, na after service life really start”. In my mind I’m like “tufiakwa! God forbid! No be so my own portion go be”. I don’t really think he had taken this advice to heart: “as a job seeker you’re a product with steady competition and so to sell you’ve got to make yourself marketable by continuous self improvement”.

I just saw my friend Chi Babe off and on my way back I’m thinking to myself that it’s a shame how the pressures of life make people stoop low to kiss major ass. I can’t believe she’s the same chick I had a major crush on when we were in the uni. The job and marriage search thing has all of a sudden made her embarrassingly churchous!

I’ve realized that the same way marriage often dissolves friendship between very good girlfriends is the same way finances can put guys out of the league with their long time buddies. That’s really shitty…pitiful.

Yet another change: my I-don’t-give-a-fuck mode is now major. I’ve cut out a lot of stuff that’s not important to me in achieving my immediate and future life goals and in their places I’ve added those which are. I no more identify with (I don’t give a fuck about) a lot of the IQ decreasing content on TV, gossip and low substance blog reads and people who’re not adding anything of positive value to my life. That’s to name a few, on the addition side I’ve taken up a new humble lifestyle.

Lastly my conscience has been telling me to wake up and cut out on the surfing of the internet for interesting things and instead start getting with my GMAT books, NIM-NYSC studies and other nerdy ish and career bound moves.

Yes that’s my state of mind…how I’ve been feeling in brief. But what ever your state of mind, never forget that no matter how the struggles of life might be eating your heart away through the week, you’ll always have the Nigerian Sunday afternoon rice to look forward to. Peace!

Firstly for the records I didn’t vote in any of the 2007 general elections because I was stuck in Abuja and couldn’t get my self to Benue State where I was registered as a voter. But if I had voted it would have been along this line: the ADC’s Pat Utomi for President, The AC’s Adams Oshiomole and Babatunde Fashola for Governor (if I was registered in Edo or Lagos State respectively) and the PDP’s candidates for Abuja Municipal Area Council (AMAC) Chairman and Vice Chair. The elections were relatively peaceful, free and fair in my area and I monitored events on foot, by word of mouth, on phone and in the print, radio, television and online media.

And from my research I’ve come to the conclusion that a lot of Nigerians don’t just know how to loose honourably and accept election defeat. So polls started late in some areas and there were misconducts in “a few” centers, and so what? The invasion of the pitch and the stretching off of a defender of a team who are already six nil down with five minutes to go doesn’t mean a match should be replayed. You would still have lost in any case.

And unfortunately Obasanjo’s fuck ups and the INEC’s Leadership blunders contribute in giving losers something to shout about. And because bad news is always the juiciest the media pounce on that, generalise and blow the whole thing out of proportions (for every original “my voting experience” well written and descriptive blog post there are ten one-paragraph unoriginal “electoral misconduct” blog post in the Nigerian blogosphere). Political losers now build on that, forget about being magnanimous in defeat and the next thing you know they’re holding press conferences accusing their opponents of rigging the elections.

It’s not strange that it’s only the defeated that complain. Even the PDP who have been the most accused turned around to whine in Lagos and Abia States where they lost the gubernatorials. It should tell you something, that rigging (where it truly manifests) is not a PDP only affair and that most people are just bad losers. To them there is no life outside politics and so it’s a deadly fight to the finish.

Let me let you in on something. With a large percentage of people with poor living standards Nigeria is still a place where people will vote for you in appreciation of the gifts you give them and with tribal sentiments. Research show that it’s the poor and ill informed that constitute a majority of the voting populace and since money plays a part in politics the rich political parties reach them, “campaign” and are able to win their votes.

The intellectuals, the media and those who should know better are in the minority. They support the better candidates but are often too occupied with work or pleasures, or feel too big to come out to vote. Their candidates forgetting that money is power and that politics is like advertising (if you don’t advertise you don’t sell) score miserably low in voter education and thus perform miserably at polls.

Adams Oshiomole, Pat Utomi and Jimi Agbaje

I’m sorry Mr Oshiomole; it’s possibly that more people truly voted for Osunbor. You’re a smart chap and I’m sure you’ll keep your self busy and strategise ahead of 2011. The same goes for Jimi Agbaje and possibly Pat Utomi. These unfortunately were the right candidates but with the wrong political machinery.

The title of this entry seems familiar? Well In “fatherhood with Ibe” was (or is, I’m not sure) the name of one of the several columns in Hints; a Nigerian romance magazine which was at its’ peak in the later half of the 1990s. With Exschoolnerd affectionately calling me Papa Ikenna and Yosh shopping for names for his yet unborn daughters I was finally sufficiently inspired to throw out these “notes from the hyena’s belly” (thoughts which have been on my mind for some time. Props to the Naija blogger with a same named blog) on fatherhood gone wrong.

Here’s the first example of fatherhood gone wrong. An old timer who doesn’t carry his kids…sons along in his business moves and is stingy and withdrawn from his own family. He doesn’t womanise or drink neither is he the overly religious type. It’s hard to figure him out except that he’s seriously mistrustful as a result of going through a tough childhood and rise to the top. It’s really a shame that the first time I was able to step foot in his house was upon his death on a consolation visit to the family. Now the grown sons are facing the uphill task of trying to get familiar with their hitherto unknown relatives so as to give pops man a befitting burial as well as trying to put a hand on and coordinate his numerous businesses so as to ensure family survival. That’s the picture from the angle I got to know about him.

The second case of fatherhood gone wrong is the Baba who runs his home like a dictator. He stresses out his kids and embarrasses them in the presence of their friends. The gospel according to Baba is that he can do no wrong. When there’s trouble you’re to blame he can’t possibly ever be at fault. With a bad temper to match Baba shouts down Mama, Mama in defence shouts down the kids and the kids learn fast by shouting down their own unfortunate victims. Baba unsurprisingly can’t deal with difficult situations calmly, he must always resort to abuse, scolding and raised voices. As a result Mama and the kids are now conditioned to think that’s the rightful first step to take in contentious circumstances. The end result is a blood hound family blind to the fact that life can be lived according to the cardinal principals of peace, love and respect despite the challenges along the way.

My closing piece: “Fathers effing up should start to do the right thing”. Whatever man…vote Pat Utomi for president and send me a birthday cheque on April 17th. Peace!

Bill Cosby and fam, fatherhood gone…right!

Fuck the police!
Once in a while I do the night crawling thing or even sef the normal broad day light minding my own business ish only to be harassed by the Nigerian Police. Such encounters only succeed in leaving a bitter taste in my mind about our law enforcement agents and getting me blabbing out verbal obscenities like “fuck the police!” (When I’m not in earshot distance sha) A phrase made popular by many an American rapper. Webbo can clearly relate with me on that. A lot of police officers have so angered me that I doubt if I can ever bring myself to lend a helping hand to an enforcer of the law again. It’s a shame really…on both sides.

Somebody once suggested that extortion and not protection of life and property is the main business the Nigerian Police are into and I strongly agree with him. The situation is so bad that it’s virtually only in Nigeria that one hears the word police and begins to be afraid. An ideal situation is if called upon for questioning by the police you swiftly do so and then go about your normal business.

There’s no dignity in the Nigerian Police profession, people loathe them. In developed countries the police are really your friend. They’re respected by all and sundry starting from the common man on the street all the way to the big time celebrity and business mogul. I still fondly remember when I was a kid of about 6 years old in London, how we would have regular visits in school by Policemen who would come to speak to us about how to cross the road and not talking to strangers. They’d play with us…educate and entertain us and in the end we couldn’t help but look upon them with admiration. Such happening in Naija? Highly unlikely.

The way forward? A major course of the misconduct of the police is their poor salaries. As such their mind has been corruption conditioned as a way to break even. A mega pay rise taking into consideration the risk factor involved in their profession would help to set their minds straight. Also years of negative accustomization to the theory that being a member of the force is a license to be a mild terrorist/above the law should be dealt with by reorientating them to their service duty of keeping watch over society like a loving big brother. Also the low educational qualification levels of many Policemen is responsible for their brutish ways, a new policy of recruiting officers with a minimum qualification of an OND certificate would go a long way to seeing that the force becomes a respectable outfit.

I’m a hustler!
You know how ingenious our 19 boys can be (energy channelled in the wrong direction…yeah I know). Well out of idleness and brokenness I created what could be a potential 19 runs marketing ad (pictured above). I like the professional way I went about relaying my message (although I used one too many slangs). You tell me, could anyone fall for that?