No two individuals are exactly the same.Even among persons born of the same parents,differences in height,intelligence,complexion and temperament exist.These differences exist because each person's background and experiences are peculiar to such person.There is no gainsaying the fact that the perception of the world by all individuals are to some extent, be influenced by gender. I am not an exception.Being a man has influenced the way I look at several issues.There are many aspects of my life and beliefs that reveal this.I will illustrate with only two of them.
Firstly, I am not a feminist and I detest feminism.Like Chinweizu and many other notable writers around the world, I am a 'masculinist'. Men are endangered species.Almost all the laws of all countries are skewed against them.Most of the time men end up in jail for many offences women get away with.Sometimes when a fight breaks out between a man and a woman, the law enforcement agents are more eager to save the woman than the man. The man is always considers the assailant if when he may have been on the receiving end.The statistics of the gender of all persons in jail all over the world would prove this fact.Sometimes, such men were sent to jail to please one woman or the other.
In many homes, the man makes all the money but the woman is the person in charge.The man can only offend her at his own risk.In Africa,boys are deliberately denied tutelege in cooking in order to subjugate them to their future wives whose mothers had already started teaching the tricks of controlling a man at an early age.This is because the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Not being adept at cooking therefore places the man in perpetual bondage to the woman.
All these frustrations sometimes end up sending the man to an early grave.When this happens, the woman and the children settle down to enjoy the man's wealth after a brief period of 'mourning'. The statistics of widows and widowers would reveal that there are three times more widows than there are widowers. Many of the men went to their graves early.Of course,women have peculiar ways of making the children love them at the expense of the man.Available statistics show that most children buy four times more gifts for their mothers than their fathers.I feel disheartened when feminists argue that women are oppressed and treated with disdain.It is in fact, the other way round.Men are the weaker sex that need to be protected.
Secondly,I believe that women are more emotional and irrational while taking sensitive decisions.Sometimes,decisions taken at the heat of emotional turbulence tumble like a pack of cards at critical times.On the other hand,men are critical, thorough and deft.
I must acknowledge that there are exceptions to this rule. Some women are wonderful while some men are disappointing.However,the percentage of persons that fall into the exceptional group is very negligible.
A lot of men deny reality by pretending their decisions are not influenced by gender.But such men are living a lie.No man or woman can exist outside the influence of gender.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
MY CULTURAL IDENTITY
I am an African by birth. My ethnic group is called Igbo and the group inhabits southeastern Nigeria.The first language I ever used was Igbo language and the first friends I had were also from my ethnic group.My fundamental cultural identity is therefore the same with that many other Igbo people who like me, grew up in southeastern Nigeria.
Among the members of my ethnic group, culture and tradition are ways of life. These are rules and regulations that govern our day to day activities.These rules are not written down anywhere.But every one of us knows the rules like the palms of his or her hands. Again,there are no special policemen whose duties include effecting these rules of culture.Each of the members of my ethnic group is a policeman or policewoman in his or her own right.The sanctions associated with flouting the rules are also swift and severe.These traditions and cultures are too many to be exhausted in a write up such as this.I will write down just a few.
To begin with,among my native Igbo ethnic group,it is a taboo for a young unmarried girl to become pregnant.Such is considered as a reproach on not only the girl herself but the parents as well.Young persons are allowed to date only under the very watchfull eyes of parents on both sides.Additionally,such dating must have marriage as its goal.Of a truth,some young persons break this rule once in a long while.However, the consequences of breaking this rule are disastrous.The offending persons are ostracised by everyone.They also become the butt of bitter jokes as negative songs are composed with their names.These songs are used to ridicule them and also teach lessons to other unmarried persons.
Additonally,among the Igbo of South Eastern Nigeria,a man's family does not mean just himself, his wife and children only. The term stretches to include brothers,uncles,aunts,cousins and maternal relations.Each of these persons are treated like and given all the rights and privileges that go with the membership of a family.They also inherit all the responsibilities that go with it too.This is called the extended family system and is found not only among the Igbo but all over Africa.
Again,among the Igbo,relatives cannot either get married or have sexual relations of any kind.Persons within this prohibited degree of consanguinity include even very distant relations.There is the belief that if anyone flouts this tradition,such individual will spend his or her life in grief.The consequences of flouting this rule are so harsh that till date,everybody is afraid of testing the efficacy of the consequences.
To a large extent, these traditions have helped to shape my personality.I realized early in life that in all societies, there are always laws that must be obeyed.I also realized that breaking those laws would attract some form of punishment.As a resident of the United States therefore,it is much easier for me to adapt to the system of obeying the laws of the land.
I have never rebelled against the rules.Most of the traditions are compatible with simple morality. I therefore consider their existence in the community necessary for the guidance of all persons within the community.
It is my wish that future generations would continue to hold these traditons sacred.
Among the members of my ethnic group, culture and tradition are ways of life. These are rules and regulations that govern our day to day activities.These rules are not written down anywhere.But every one of us knows the rules like the palms of his or her hands. Again,there are no special policemen whose duties include effecting these rules of culture.Each of the members of my ethnic group is a policeman or policewoman in his or her own right.The sanctions associated with flouting the rules are also swift and severe.These traditions and cultures are too many to be exhausted in a write up such as this.I will write down just a few.
To begin with,among my native Igbo ethnic group,it is a taboo for a young unmarried girl to become pregnant.Such is considered as a reproach on not only the girl herself but the parents as well.Young persons are allowed to date only under the very watchfull eyes of parents on both sides.Additionally,such dating must have marriage as its goal.Of a truth,some young persons break this rule once in a long while.However, the consequences of breaking this rule are disastrous.The offending persons are ostracised by everyone.They also become the butt of bitter jokes as negative songs are composed with their names.These songs are used to ridicule them and also teach lessons to other unmarried persons.
Additonally,among the Igbo of South Eastern Nigeria,a man's family does not mean just himself, his wife and children only. The term stretches to include brothers,uncles,aunts,cousins and maternal relations.Each of these persons are treated like and given all the rights and privileges that go with the membership of a family.They also inherit all the responsibilities that go with it too.This is called the extended family system and is found not only among the Igbo but all over Africa.
Again,among the Igbo,relatives cannot either get married or have sexual relations of any kind.Persons within this prohibited degree of consanguinity include even very distant relations.There is the belief that if anyone flouts this tradition,such individual will spend his or her life in grief.The consequences of flouting this rule are so harsh that till date,everybody is afraid of testing the efficacy of the consequences.
To a large extent, these traditions have helped to shape my personality.I realized early in life that in all societies, there are always laws that must be obeyed.I also realized that breaking those laws would attract some form of punishment.As a resident of the United States therefore,it is much easier for me to adapt to the system of obeying the laws of the land.
I have never rebelled against the rules.Most of the traditions are compatible with simple morality. I therefore consider their existence in the community necessary for the guidance of all persons within the community.
It is my wish that future generations would continue to hold these traditons sacred.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
CONVINCING A PROSPECTIVE STUDENT TO APPLY TO ALABAMA A&M UNIVERSITY.
Alabama A&M University is a citadel of intellectualism that has come a long way.Despite its existence for over a century, the institution has maintained its rich academic culture. From the instructors to the students and other members of the university community, everyone guides the 'bulldog' spirit very jealously. It would therefore be very easy to convince a prospective student to come to this wonderful university.
The first information I would volunteer to a prospective student is that the institution itself is a monument to the triumph of the human spirit over segregation. William Hooper Councill, the founder and first president of the university, was an ex-slave. The school is therefore a testimony to the fact that determination is the key to success. I would urge the prospective student to register at the university in order to imbibe this spirit of triumph firsthand.
Additionally, I would give the prospective student enough statistics to prove that tuition at the universty is affordable. The students of the university pay less tuition than their mates in other nearby institutions of similar category. This should be attractive to a prospective student especially if this fact is viewed alongside the economic catastrophe which the country is battling.
That is not all. I would urge the student to take a trip to the university beforehand in other to witness the breath-taking aesthetics of the campus. I would paint a clear picture of the beautiful sceneries observable on campus- the beautiful flowers,neatly-mown lawns and well-built brick houses. This would not be a hard thing to do. Telling the truth is fun!
Finally, I would draw the attention of the prospective student to the sophisticated educational equipment which the school boasts of. I would let the student know that irrespective of the student's intended program of study, the university has enough facilities to ensure that upon graduation, such student would be able to compete with other graduates in an increasingly complex society.
After taking the prospective student through all these, I have no doubt in my mind that the student would not only come to register with the university, but would also convince his or her friends on the need to become students of the wonderful institution called Alabama A&M University.
The first information I would volunteer to a prospective student is that the institution itself is a monument to the triumph of the human spirit over segregation. William Hooper Councill, the founder and first president of the university, was an ex-slave. The school is therefore a testimony to the fact that determination is the key to success. I would urge the prospective student to register at the university in order to imbibe this spirit of triumph firsthand.
Additionally, I would give the prospective student enough statistics to prove that tuition at the universty is affordable. The students of the university pay less tuition than their mates in other nearby institutions of similar category. This should be attractive to a prospective student especially if this fact is viewed alongside the economic catastrophe which the country is battling.
That is not all. I would urge the student to take a trip to the university beforehand in other to witness the breath-taking aesthetics of the campus. I would paint a clear picture of the beautiful sceneries observable on campus- the beautiful flowers,neatly-mown lawns and well-built brick houses. This would not be a hard thing to do. Telling the truth is fun!
Finally, I would draw the attention of the prospective student to the sophisticated educational equipment which the school boasts of. I would let the student know that irrespective of the student's intended program of study, the university has enough facilities to ensure that upon graduation, such student would be able to compete with other graduates in an increasingly complex society.
After taking the prospective student through all these, I have no doubt in my mind that the student would not only come to register with the university, but would also convince his or her friends on the need to become students of the wonderful institution called Alabama A&M University.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
THE GREATEST INFLUENCE IN MY LIFE
Various individuals have equally diverse things that have influenced their lives. For some, their greatest influence comes from a person or a group of persons. For me however, I have been influenced the most by my books. I discovered the overwhelming influence of books quite early in life. My books are my most consistent companions. I do have human companions, no doubt. But whereas human beings change their opinions and facial expressions unexpectedly, my books never change their opinions. Each time I open a book I read the previous day, its contents remain the same.
My dream of being a university professor is very much alive. I know that my books remain the main vehicle that can help to transport me to the promised land. They console me in times of sorrow,rejoice with me in moments of bliss and advise me in periods of confusion. I have embraced my books warmly. I know for sure that so long as I do not abandon them, they would never abandon me. And so long as they do not abandon me, my goal remains achieveable.
My dream of being a university professor is very much alive. I know that my books remain the main vehicle that can help to transport me to the promised land. They console me in times of sorrow,rejoice with me in moments of bliss and advise me in periods of confusion. I have embraced my books warmly. I know for sure that so long as I do not abandon them, they would never abandon me. And so long as they do not abandon me, my goal remains achieveable.
MY FUTURE GOAL
Many of my friends confess to adjusting their goals from time to time to suit the realities of the time. In my case, I prefer adjusting the realities of the time to suit my goals. I have many goals in life. However, out of all my goals in life, one stands out. I wish to become a university professor.
University professors are intelligent and well respected in the society. The respect accorded to them stems largely from the fact that they are masters in their various fields of academic endeavor. Unlike businessmen who can make millions of dollars overnight, it takes brilliance, patience, hardwork and a combination of a host of other qualities to become a professor. Anybody can become wealthy unexpectedly. But nobody becomes a professor unexpectedly.
I hope to continue studying until I earn a doctoral degree. This would unarguably assist me to realize my life-long dream. Doctoral programs are not earned on a platter of gold. I have no doubt therefore that the assignment is tough and the road rough.
I sincerely believe that hardwork, consistency, and level-headedness will not only keep me on track towards the eventual realization of my dreams, but would also make me a role model for younger persons who may wish to follow in my footsteps.
University professors are intelligent and well respected in the society. The respect accorded to them stems largely from the fact that they are masters in their various fields of academic endeavor. Unlike businessmen who can make millions of dollars overnight, it takes brilliance, patience, hardwork and a combination of a host of other qualities to become a professor. Anybody can become wealthy unexpectedly. But nobody becomes a professor unexpectedly.
I hope to continue studying until I earn a doctoral degree. This would unarguably assist me to realize my life-long dream. Doctoral programs are not earned on a platter of gold. I have no doubt therefore that the assignment is tough and the road rough.
I sincerely believe that hardwork, consistency, and level-headedness will not only keep me on track towards the eventual realization of my dreams, but would also make me a role model for younger persons who may wish to follow in my footsteps.
THE LAST TIME I HAD A MORAL DILEMMA
Morality is a very subjective term. It varies across different cultures. Even among individuals raised within the same cultural setup, opinions on morality normally vary in accordance with race, religion and sometimes, educational level. I therefore acknowledge that the reader may not share the same view on morality with me.
The last time I had a moral dilemma was six years ago. I was an instructor in a university somewhere in Africa then. I was young, handsome and bohemian. Many of the students used to admire me. The very bold ones also summoned courage to reveal their feelings about me to my face. Quite naturally, the girls made up the largest number of the bold students. Among the girls, Becky was the boldest and perhaps, the most reckless. She was simply infatuated with me. She refused to pay attentiom during classes and instead, spent her time winking at me and making other grotesque gestures that could tempt even a bishop.To be truthful, somewhere along the line, I began to take an interest in her. My heart was resistant. But my body was weak.
The university rules and regulations frowned at an instructor dating a student. I knew about a couple of my colleagues who disregarded this golden rule and ran into grief. To make matters worse for me, I also had a girlfriend, Kaycee, who worshipped and adored me. I was most certainly caught in a moral logjam.
I summoned courage and invited Beck to my office after class one afternoon. I made her understand that she looked beautiful and that any man would be lucky to have her as a girlfriend. I explained to her that having a relationship with her was most likely to cut my career short. I also revealed the name of my girlfriend to her. Kaycee was not a student in my university. But her family was very popular in the city. Her father was a member of Becky's church.
The revelation had a magical effect on Becky who wiped a tear or two off her face, apologized to me, and left my office less confidently than she had entered. Initially, the temptation to recall her and withdraw my statements was high. But as time went on, I was convinced I took the right decision. Becky developed a very clever way of always hiding behind a classmate during classes. Suprisingly, she did well in the examination at the end of the semester. The matter effectively came to an end for both of us when she graduated one year later and travelled to London for further studies.
Till today, I have never stopped shuddering each time I consider what could have happened to me if I had obeyed my instincts.
The last time I had a moral dilemma was six years ago. I was an instructor in a university somewhere in Africa then. I was young, handsome and bohemian. Many of the students used to admire me. The very bold ones also summoned courage to reveal their feelings about me to my face. Quite naturally, the girls made up the largest number of the bold students. Among the girls, Becky was the boldest and perhaps, the most reckless. She was simply infatuated with me. She refused to pay attentiom during classes and instead, spent her time winking at me and making other grotesque gestures that could tempt even a bishop.To be truthful, somewhere along the line, I began to take an interest in her. My heart was resistant. But my body was weak.
The university rules and regulations frowned at an instructor dating a student. I knew about a couple of my colleagues who disregarded this golden rule and ran into grief. To make matters worse for me, I also had a girlfriend, Kaycee, who worshipped and adored me. I was most certainly caught in a moral logjam.
I summoned courage and invited Beck to my office after class one afternoon. I made her understand that she looked beautiful and that any man would be lucky to have her as a girlfriend. I explained to her that having a relationship with her was most likely to cut my career short. I also revealed the name of my girlfriend to her. Kaycee was not a student in my university. But her family was very popular in the city. Her father was a member of Becky's church.
The revelation had a magical effect on Becky who wiped a tear or two off her face, apologized to me, and left my office less confidently than she had entered. Initially, the temptation to recall her and withdraw my statements was high. But as time went on, I was convinced I took the right decision. Becky developed a very clever way of always hiding behind a classmate during classes. Suprisingly, she did well in the examination at the end of the semester. The matter effectively came to an end for both of us when she graduated one year later and travelled to London for further studies.
Till today, I have never stopped shuddering each time I consider what could have happened to me if I had obeyed my instincts.
THE ROLE OF MY FAMILY IN MY ACADEMIC LIFE
In Africa where I was born, a man's family is made up of not only his wife and kids but also his brothers and sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins and other distant relations too numerous and remote to mention. This is called the extended family system. It has a lot of advantages and disadvantages. But the advantages outweigh the disadvantages by a very wide margin. I would not waste the time of the reader by going into how this peculiar family system works because doing so would take me away from the topic above.
My family has been very supportive of my academic exploits. Each person in the family makes effort at all times to find out how my program is progressing. During holidays, I receive gifts and money from the members of my family who are well-to-do and words of advise and encouragement from the ones who are not wealthy. The younger persons in the family who have neither gifts nor advise to offer, call me on the phone several times each week to inquire after my health and progress.
There are many members of my family who are more educated than myself. They are also scattered across different continents of the world. They all receive the same encouragement as I do. This serves to motivate not only myself but all of us. We always dread doing anything that may drag the name of our family into mud. We take pride in the fact that our family has never produced a criminal or ex-convict. And surely, no one in the family wants to create the record.
My family has been very supportive of my academic exploits. Each person in the family makes effort at all times to find out how my program is progressing. During holidays, I receive gifts and money from the members of my family who are well-to-do and words of advise and encouragement from the ones who are not wealthy. The younger persons in the family who have neither gifts nor advise to offer, call me on the phone several times each week to inquire after my health and progress.
There are many members of my family who are more educated than myself. They are also scattered across different continents of the world. They all receive the same encouragement as I do. This serves to motivate not only myself but all of us. We always dread doing anything that may drag the name of our family into mud. We take pride in the fact that our family has never produced a criminal or ex-convict. And surely, no one in the family wants to create the record.
A COMPARISON OF MY VIEW OF LIFE WHEN I FIRST BEGAN COLLEGE AND MY VIEW OF LIFE NOW.
I was admitted into college to study English language as a fifteen-year old boy. For someone at my age then, I was already very experienced. My love for books was also very apparent. Among my mates, I used to consider myself very experienced. I used to view life seriously as I believed that the world was created for daring and adventurous people. I viewed people who shed tears in the face of difficulties with disdain. I was also more serious-minded than most boys at my age.
While in college, I studied authors who wrote books that were distinct in form and orientation from the elementary and high school novels and story books I had become accustomed to. This exposed me to other views about life which were not only different from mine, but were in fact the exact opposite. It dawned on me that the world is filled with persons of diverse views and opinions. The more the number of authors I read, the more my love and crave for reading increased.
After my first degree, I enrolled into another academic program different from what I had studied at the onset. My exposure to other views about life increased. I have earned four degrees in various areas of study. I have also enrolled for a fifth one. My love for books has not diminished. On the contrary, it seems to be on the increase. There is no doubt that the complexities and vicissitudes of life have reduced the number of hours I spend each day reading one book or the other. But I still love reading all the same.
The result is that my view of life now is sharply distinct from my view of life when I first began college. I do not hastily jump to conclusions on issues without first seeking to find out the other side of the issue. I do not also judge people by their appearance as I have since discovered that most of the time, appearance could be very deceptive. Above all, I have learnt that all human beings were created equal. There may be differences in race,opinion, height,religion or even intelligence. But we are all equal.
While in college, I studied authors who wrote books that were distinct in form and orientation from the elementary and high school novels and story books I had become accustomed to. This exposed me to other views about life which were not only different from mine, but were in fact the exact opposite. It dawned on me that the world is filled with persons of diverse views and opinions. The more the number of authors I read, the more my love and crave for reading increased.
After my first degree, I enrolled into another academic program different from what I had studied at the onset. My exposure to other views about life increased. I have earned four degrees in various areas of study. I have also enrolled for a fifth one. My love for books has not diminished. On the contrary, it seems to be on the increase. There is no doubt that the complexities and vicissitudes of life have reduced the number of hours I spend each day reading one book or the other. But I still love reading all the same.
The result is that my view of life now is sharply distinct from my view of life when I first began college. I do not hastily jump to conclusions on issues without first seeking to find out the other side of the issue. I do not also judge people by their appearance as I have since discovered that most of the time, appearance could be very deceptive. Above all, I have learnt that all human beings were created equal. There may be differences in race,opinion, height,religion or even intelligence. But we are all equal.
USING EVASIVE LANGUAGE
Telling lies is a vice, not a virtue. Parents often admonish their kids to always avoid telling lies at all times. Pastors and other religious leaders regularly paint fearful and scary pictures of the religious consequences of telling lies. In court, many cases are lost daily because the plaintiff or defendant told lies. All these notwithstanding, sometimes it is desirable or in fact necessary to avoid telling the truth.
Sometime in June 1992, I visited the ancient city of Kano in northern Nigeria. Kano was a muslim-dominated city which practiced sharia law. The few christians who lived and worked therein, prefered to live at the outskirts of the city in order to avoid religious conflicts. Despite this, conflicts between muslims and christians were frequent. Sadly, the christians were always on the losing end. Each time a conflict arose, churches were burnt down, warehouses were looted and vandalized and many individuals lost their lives.
Being a christain from the southeastern part of the country, visiting the city was always a nightmare as riots could break out at any time. It was therefore very disheartening when I encountered one of such riots during my 1992 visit. I was the only one in the house when the rioters visitedmy uncle's house. I peeped through a hole and saw that they were armed with guns, clubs and other dangerous weapons. I escaped through the backdoor and scaled the fence into the next compound. A heavily-bearded man approached me from the main building and waved at me. I was reluctant to approach him for he looked every inch like my assilants. The smile on his face won me over. He took me into his house and hid me underneath a bed.
Unknown to me, one of the rioters had seen me escape into the adjoining compond and alerted the others. Hundreds of them entered into the compond from the main gate which they pulled down. They demanded for me. The bearded man whom I had come to regard as my angel informed them that I had jumped the fence into the next compound when he attempted to catch me by himself. A few of them entered the house and searched vigorously while others stood outside chanting songs in Hausa and Arabic languages. Finally, they believed my host and departed to search for other victims. I am sure he won their hearts because he was a muslim like them and could speak their languages perfectly.
I was in the man's house until the police brought the situation under control. I have never stopping imagining what would have happened to me if that wonderful man had told my assailants the truth.
I had also witnessed another incident which convinced me that sometimes, telling the truth may not be a wise thing to do in every situation. I was undergoing compulsory paramilitary training alongside one thousand other fresh college graduates in my country then. We were being prepared for the mandatory one-year youth service program for fresh college graduates. The rules in the camp were very strict as we were being trained by soldiers.
One day, Ibe, my roommate sneaked out of the camp and went into the nearby town to relax over a few bottles of beer. Unfortunately for him, he ran into Major Dogo, the camp commandant. Ibe's uniform made him conspicuos and Major Dogo had no problems asking him to stop.He did not stop at all but ran away. The Major directed the soldier with him to catch Ibe. Ibe was lucky as he was able to get to the camp and jump into the compond before the soldier could arrest him. We all saw him running towards us and figured out what happened. Our suspicion was confirmed when within minutes, we saw a soldier jump into the compound ostensibly in pursuit of Ibe. By this time, Ibe had mixed up with the rest of us. His uniform only served to make him blend with the rest of the crowd.
Soon, Major Dogo gathered all of us and scrutinized each face. He was initially confident that he would have fished out Ibe. However, his confidence waned when he found out to his dismay that hundreds of other boys looked exactly like Ibe. He instructed us to identify the culprit. We all informed him that we did not see anybody run into the compound. We all knew that if we had identified Ibe, the punishment for him would have been dismissal from the camp. He would have lost the opportunity to serve the country for two years. The implication was that he could not transact business or get employed in the country as a graduate until he returned to complete the assignment. We all knew what our colleague did was bad. But we did not want him crucified.
All of us were eventually punished. We accepted our punishment happily and moved on. Until today, I have never stopped feeling we did the correct thing by telling lies in order to save our friend and colleague.
Sometime in June 1992, I visited the ancient city of Kano in northern Nigeria. Kano was a muslim-dominated city which practiced sharia law. The few christians who lived and worked therein, prefered to live at the outskirts of the city in order to avoid religious conflicts. Despite this, conflicts between muslims and christians were frequent. Sadly, the christians were always on the losing end. Each time a conflict arose, churches were burnt down, warehouses were looted and vandalized and many individuals lost their lives.
Being a christain from the southeastern part of the country, visiting the city was always a nightmare as riots could break out at any time. It was therefore very disheartening when I encountered one of such riots during my 1992 visit. I was the only one in the house when the rioters visitedmy uncle's house. I peeped through a hole and saw that they were armed with guns, clubs and other dangerous weapons. I escaped through the backdoor and scaled the fence into the next compound. A heavily-bearded man approached me from the main building and waved at me. I was reluctant to approach him for he looked every inch like my assilants. The smile on his face won me over. He took me into his house and hid me underneath a bed.
Unknown to me, one of the rioters had seen me escape into the adjoining compond and alerted the others. Hundreds of them entered into the compond from the main gate which they pulled down. They demanded for me. The bearded man whom I had come to regard as my angel informed them that I had jumped the fence into the next compound when he attempted to catch me by himself. A few of them entered the house and searched vigorously while others stood outside chanting songs in Hausa and Arabic languages. Finally, they believed my host and departed to search for other victims. I am sure he won their hearts because he was a muslim like them and could speak their languages perfectly.
I was in the man's house until the police brought the situation under control. I have never stopping imagining what would have happened to me if that wonderful man had told my assailants the truth.
I had also witnessed another incident which convinced me that sometimes, telling the truth may not be a wise thing to do in every situation. I was undergoing compulsory paramilitary training alongside one thousand other fresh college graduates in my country then. We were being prepared for the mandatory one-year youth service program for fresh college graduates. The rules in the camp were very strict as we were being trained by soldiers.
One day, Ibe, my roommate sneaked out of the camp and went into the nearby town to relax over a few bottles of beer. Unfortunately for him, he ran into Major Dogo, the camp commandant. Ibe's uniform made him conspicuos and Major Dogo had no problems asking him to stop.He did not stop at all but ran away. The Major directed the soldier with him to catch Ibe. Ibe was lucky as he was able to get to the camp and jump into the compond before the soldier could arrest him. We all saw him running towards us and figured out what happened. Our suspicion was confirmed when within minutes, we saw a soldier jump into the compound ostensibly in pursuit of Ibe. By this time, Ibe had mixed up with the rest of us. His uniform only served to make him blend with the rest of the crowd.
Soon, Major Dogo gathered all of us and scrutinized each face. He was initially confident that he would have fished out Ibe. However, his confidence waned when he found out to his dismay that hundreds of other boys looked exactly like Ibe. He instructed us to identify the culprit. We all informed him that we did not see anybody run into the compound. We all knew that if we had identified Ibe, the punishment for him would have been dismissal from the camp. He would have lost the opportunity to serve the country for two years. The implication was that he could not transact business or get employed in the country as a graduate until he returned to complete the assignment. We all knew what our colleague did was bad. But we did not want him crucified.
All of us were eventually punished. We accepted our punishment happily and moved on. Until today, I have never stopped feeling we did the correct thing by telling lies in order to save our friend and colleague.
SOMETHING THAT SCARES ME.
Truthfully, I have never considered myself a fearful person. I have also never heard any of my friends describe me as being fearful. This may have something to do with my upbringing. At a very early age, I learnt that there is no problem without solution except perhaps, death. Ordinarily, one would expect me to be afraid of death. But I am not afraid of it at all. I know that each man or woman will most certainly pass into the great beyond sooner or later.
However, the only thing that scares me is failure. I have the phobia of failing in any assignment I set out for myself. While writing examinations, doing business, or even studying, that fear is always somewhere in my subconscious. Sometimes, the fear retreats into the innermost sanctuary of my mind. At other times, its presence becomes so overwhelming and overbearing that I feel like choking. But it is always present.
Nevertheless, I have learnt how to turn this feeling to my advantage. I do not drink alcohol. I have also neither smoked nor taken any hard drugs in all my life. This morbid phobia for failure is the only stimulant that drives me to success. There is no doubt that at times when it retreats into my system, I relax and become somewhat complacent. As soon as it emerges however, I set upon my goal with every ounce of strength in me.
I have learn that hardwork is the only long-lasting recipe for success. Since failure scares me, I will always rely on my phobia for it to climb to success.
However, the only thing that scares me is failure. I have the phobia of failing in any assignment I set out for myself. While writing examinations, doing business, or even studying, that fear is always somewhere in my subconscious. Sometimes, the fear retreats into the innermost sanctuary of my mind. At other times, its presence becomes so overwhelming and overbearing that I feel like choking. But it is always present.
Nevertheless, I have learnt how to turn this feeling to my advantage. I do not drink alcohol. I have also neither smoked nor taken any hard drugs in all my life. This morbid phobia for failure is the only stimulant that drives me to success. There is no doubt that at times when it retreats into my system, I relax and become somewhat complacent. As soon as it emerges however, I set upon my goal with every ounce of strength in me.
I have learn that hardwork is the only long-lasting recipe for success. Since failure scares me, I will always rely on my phobia for it to climb to success.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
MY ROLE MODEL.
Over the years, I have come across several individuals who touched my life in spectacular ways. These individuals include many men and women whose intellectual composure, tenacity of purpose and emotional balance inspire me immeasurably. Nevertheless, my maternal uncle, Don Oti, stands out as my role model.
Don Oti is a civil engineer employed by the Federal Roads Maintenance Agency(FERMA), Nigeria. He is the Deputy Director in charge of the agency in the entire country. He started off as a resident engineer and over the years, he rose to his current position. His meteoric rise was a result of a combination of hardwork and luck.
However, I do not regard him as a role model because he is wealthy. Rather, I admire him because he is a man who lives each day as if it would be his last on earth. His golden rule is"do unto the next man as you would would want other men to do unto you". As a young boy growing up under his tutelage many years ago, this rule which he used to sing into my ears did not make much meaning to me. The fact that he recited this rule shortly before spanking me each time I beat up any of my playmates did nothing to make the rule, or its implications for that matter, attractive to me.
As an adult, I have since discovered that my uncle's golden rule ought to be respected by anyone who wishes to live a rancor-free life. I have also discovered that it is the cardinal principle of existence.
Don Oti is far away from me now. But his views and ways of approaching issues and solving problems would always inspire me.
Don Oti is a civil engineer employed by the Federal Roads Maintenance Agency(FERMA), Nigeria. He is the Deputy Director in charge of the agency in the entire country. He started off as a resident engineer and over the years, he rose to his current position. His meteoric rise was a result of a combination of hardwork and luck.
However, I do not regard him as a role model because he is wealthy. Rather, I admire him because he is a man who lives each day as if it would be his last on earth. His golden rule is"do unto the next man as you would would want other men to do unto you". As a young boy growing up under his tutelage many years ago, this rule which he used to sing into my ears did not make much meaning to me. The fact that he recited this rule shortly before spanking me each time I beat up any of my playmates did nothing to make the rule, or its implications for that matter, attractive to me.
As an adult, I have since discovered that my uncle's golden rule ought to be respected by anyone who wishes to live a rancor-free life. I have also discovered that it is the cardinal principle of existence.
Don Oti is far away from me now. But his views and ways of approaching issues and solving problems would always inspire me.
THE BACKGROUND OF THE NEGATIVE WORD "MOTHERFUCKER"
English is a language that originated from the Anglo Saxons. Three tribes made up the Anglo Saxons- the Angles, Saxons and Jutes. The first type of English language used is called Old English. As a result of many words borrowed from languages like Latin, French, and Greek, the grammar of English changed over time to what is called Middle English and subsequently to Modern English which is used today. Many words from the morphology, syntax and semantics of Old English have survived into Modern English. Most of them however, have since assumed new meanings and sometimes, spellings. On the other hand, many new words have entered into the vocabulary of English. One of these new words is "motherfucker".
Nobody can fully give a detailed background information on the etymology of "motherfucker". However, most lexicons admit that the word originated in the United States of America. The word is used by virtually everybody. What differs however, is the context of usage. The word is considered profane and vulgar. Those who use it publicly are therefore the members of the lower class in the society who care less about their public image than the members of the upper and middle classes. I am still new in the United States. But I have discovered that even those who scowl their faces and block their ears each time the word is used in the public, roar into laughter on other occasions when the word is used in private by persons close to them.
Many attempts by English language experts to find out how the word "motherfucker" got corrupted have not yielded much dividend. There are speculations that the word was coined out in the United States because a child's mother is considered sacred to that child. Messing up with one's mother was therefore considered as the highest form of sacriledge. Over the years, the word was adopted to describe any person who is mean,unreliable and who represents everything negative.
As more researches on English words continue, it is hoped that one day, other facts related to this word which has become notorious in English vocabulary would emerge.
Nobody can fully give a detailed background information on the etymology of "motherfucker". However, most lexicons admit that the word originated in the United States of America. The word is used by virtually everybody. What differs however, is the context of usage. The word is considered profane and vulgar. Those who use it publicly are therefore the members of the lower class in the society who care less about their public image than the members of the upper and middle classes. I am still new in the United States. But I have discovered that even those who scowl their faces and block their ears each time the word is used in the public, roar into laughter on other occasions when the word is used in private by persons close to them.
Many attempts by English language experts to find out how the word "motherfucker" got corrupted have not yielded much dividend. There are speculations that the word was coined out in the United States because a child's mother is considered sacred to that child. Messing up with one's mother was therefore considered as the highest form of sacriledge. Over the years, the word was adopted to describe any person who is mean,unreliable and who represents everything negative.
As more researches on English words continue, it is hoped that one day, other facts related to this word which has become notorious in English vocabulary would emerge.
UGOCHUKWU NWAOGU AS A WRITER
Writing about myself as a writer is a daunting task. This is because the language involved is English. At the time I began to learn English, I had become proficient in a couple of other languages. Additionally, as my mother used to tell anyone who cared to listen, English is a 'confusing' language. My mother is a retired schoolteacher. Her opinion on such matters was therefore considered weighty-at least in Africa where I hail from. Even now, many years later, I have discovered many reasons why I think she was correct. I do not wish to discuss those reasons right away. Doing otherwise would certainly steer me away from the purpose of this article.
I am currently a student of Alabama A&M University, Normal, U.S.A. I am studying secondary education in English.Before arriving the United States to study two months ago, I had also attended other universities and earned other degrees in different academic areas. I had also published some works in English language. Additionally, I had edited a journal published in English language for many years. I had also acquired a little experience in teaching the language to those who like myself, speak other languages outside English.
All these notwithstanding, I do not consider myself an expert in written English. Nobody can comfortably claim expertise in the language-except someone who grew up speaking the language. I am much less competent in English phonetics. Since I learnt English after acquiring some other languages, each time I open my mouth to speak, my accent jumps out. I hope to enrol into an accent reduction class sometime in the near future.
A long time ago, I learnt that the best way of consolidating on one's competence in any language is to use the language often. Therefore, I have the confidence that studying in a country where English is the lingua franca and under instructors who use the language as the only medium of instruction would help me to improve upon my little knowledge of the language.
I am currently a student of Alabama A&M University, Normal, U.S.A. I am studying secondary education in English.Before arriving the United States to study two months ago, I had also attended other universities and earned other degrees in different academic areas. I had also published some works in English language. Additionally, I had edited a journal published in English language for many years. I had also acquired a little experience in teaching the language to those who like myself, speak other languages outside English.
All these notwithstanding, I do not consider myself an expert in written English. Nobody can comfortably claim expertise in the language-except someone who grew up speaking the language. I am much less competent in English phonetics. Since I learnt English after acquiring some other languages, each time I open my mouth to speak, my accent jumps out. I hope to enrol into an accent reduction class sometime in the near future.
A long time ago, I learnt that the best way of consolidating on one's competence in any language is to use the language often. Therefore, I have the confidence that studying in a country where English is the lingua franca and under instructors who use the language as the only medium of instruction would help me to improve upon my little knowledge of the language.
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