#HalleluyahChallenge #Olowogbogboro: What really happened?

Screen Shot 2017-07-10 at 8.53.56 PMA major mistake we might make is to assume that the many miracles and salvations witnessed with the #HalleluyahChallenge are the purpose and end-all to this spiritual movement. It’s almost like assuming that entering Canaan was the ultimate purpose of God for delivering His people from Egypt.

This will be a severe limitation of the Source of all Power. Thinking this way is not usually overt. That thought lies or is implied in the way we behave going forward after such a refreshing to the hearts of many. We move on to others things as though we merely visited the market, came home, put everything in the pantry and that’s it.

This will be a severe limitation of the Source of all Power. Thinking this way is not usually overt. That thought lies or is implied in the way we behave going forward after such a refreshing to the hearts of many. We move on to others things as though we merely visited the market, came home, put everything in the pantry and that’s it.

Spiritual moves are never like that. They are not momentary neither are they transient. Most times, we are limited in our understanding of the full scope of the Father’s intention when he initiates such moves. Let’s not forget that all prayers, revivals, refreshing, or any form of spiritual movements is first initiated in Heaven; born out of the Father Heart and Goodness. It is then committed, in partnership, to the hearts of “faithful men who will be able to teach others” (invite or reach others as the case may need).

Continue reading “#HalleluyahChallenge #Olowogbogboro: What really happened?”


But for a moment… Nigerian Youth and Politics. 

Since the events of the Arab Spring and its subsequent outcomes, there have been intense conversations around the participation of young people in politics. This is not the typical “register to vote” advocacy, it is the more deliberate and active engagement of youths in the process of seeking political power. Nigeria has also had its fair share of activation leading up to some major movements that have remained a thorn in the flesh of political power holders.


If one looks closely, you will agree that young people were the more potent variable in the formula that led to a shift in Nigeria’s political order. Truth be told, this shift was already silently frothing from the season surrounding the demise of President Umar Musa Yar’Adua. What happened in 2015 cannot be clearly understood unless you look through the goggles of youth activation. Many will erroneously attribute that shift to the political wizardry of certain strongholds, the convenient alliances, or simply the response of a fed up public. Those in themselves are potent factors, but clearly not the major determinant of this shift.


Continue reading “But for a moment… Nigerian Youth and Politics. “


Good day folks.

I have seen a few online petitions going around lately and one has caught my attention. The petition requesting the National Assembly (NASS) to open its book regarding the perennial N150 Billion (Approx. $600 Million) budget is a feel good one, but really doesn’t open up the matter. It’s okay to sign the petition, but more informative to understand the issues.

Let’s remember that the cold war between the Presidency and the NASS started in 2011, when President Jonathan refused to approve the NASS budget that was increased from N112.24 billion to N232.74 Billion (over 100% increase). The President had proposed N120 Billion, but eventually both parties agreed to settled for N150 Billion, which has remained the yearly budget till 2014 (Their budget was slashed in 2015 to N115 Billion). From that point on, the NASS practically stood in the way of the Executive over several issues, for which Nigerians paid the ultimate price. Can you imagine that if left unchecked, the NASS would have been blowing over N200 Billion on themselves????

Prior to 2011, there was some level of budget breakdown for the monies allocated to the NASS. We could tell what went to the Senate, House of Representatives, NASS Service Commission, etc. For the past 4 years however, no one has been able to breakdown this budget of N150 Billion despite the various demands by pressmen relying on the Freedom of Information Act.


SM Evils

I woke up on the morning of Easter Monday, floating back to earthly life from deep thoughts on unspoken matters. I had just been re-energised by simple meditations on beautiful and uncomplicated things, inspiring my heart with a positive outlook to life. My mind was on fire with all the songs I had just finished singing from the previous nights’ concert, and I still could literally feel the bellows of the Church organ resonating in my bowels. Still longing for my bed, I had to wake early to go see my sister, whose birthday it was. I didn’t mind. My legs were tired, but my mind was alive.

Spoiler Alert!

I’m usually alert to spoilers, but not on this morning. I was revelling in unguarded pleasantness, until I scanned through my Twitter feed. Usually, I search specifically for informative content, particularly from individuals who have a history of tweeting articles and following it up with a great conversation. Sadly, my feed was plastered with commentaries on a recent statement made by a traditional ruler, which set Nigeria’s Tweetosphere ablaze. So many tweets were flying around the subject matter that I had to carefully trace what exactly prompted all the vitriol. Unfortunately I followed the Rabbit trail (all in a few minutes of siting in the car waiting for my sister) and realised later that I had squeezed out almost every ounce of joy in my heart. 

How did that happen? While I sat there amazed at how people turned on each other over someone else’ comment, I was ignorant of how the bile had seeped into my mind and cast a dark showdown over my thoughts. I was now thinking on how this might spark electoral violence, ethnic rivalry, and a series of unfortunate events in Lagos. By the time I arrived at the local Catholic church with my sister for the Mass, I was a different man. I had lost the sense of the beautiful I woke up with. I sat in church contemplating Nigeria’s troubles, rather than enjoy the strange art of worship I wasn’t used to. I had just swallowed the bitter pill that online social media serves us daily.

Continue reading “TAKE BACK YOUR HUMANITY “


Goodluck PencilReally, you didn’t have much of a choice because the handwriting was clear that Nigerians needed a change. Not because you didn’t do well, but because the propaganda against you was seethed in the red hot belly of strong alliance that formed from the moment the unexpected knocked on your doors.

Despite the failures of your government, both perceived and real, your nobility breaks through the preponderance of narrow narratives of politics and persuasions that border on the preposterous. I believe you were given to our country as that lonely wall upon which our differences, vexations, animosities, and bile will be nailed to, just to unite us on the common activity of breathing out our devils.

Personally, I do not prefer your leadership style. To this, I have learnt that we are all made different and crafted for a given time, a given setting, and given people. For this, I can see through the heat and mist of my desire, beyond the trifling conveniences of my ignorant learning, to the higher calling of personal graces with which some are endowed.


I drove out of the airport at about 7:15pm local time on Sunday and was mindful not to cause any delays on the exit lane from the parking lot. The parking receipt had slipped through the space between the drivers seat and the fancy hand rest. I struggled to squeeze my fat fingers through to where the coloured paper rested, while keeping the car in motion because there was a convoy of government officials trailing. I was driving a rental car, a small mini sedan which I often drove home from the airport instead of taking the light rail into town and hissing at every stop of the 45 minutes journey home. Luckily, my dear friend Esther was manning the final exit gate and she simply waved me on and reminded me “Bros Bee, I’m still waiting for the trip oh!”. “I will call you”, I shouted in response. Call her fire! Ever since I met her at a restaurant in town and told her of my weekend getaways with my wife and friends to Ibeno beach in Akwa Ibom State, she begged me to take her family along the next time I went. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to pitch that to my wife.

The 1km road from the airport terminates at the ‘Welcome to Calabar’ roundabout, a massive landmark which unites three major expressways leading to the major districts in the city of Calabar. Beautifully constructed and well maintained, I usually take a deep breath when I get to negotiate around it, reminding me why I love this town. At nights, the dancing streams of water shot from powerful nozzles are coloured by underground lights, and quite spectacular to behold. The water acrobatics from the concentric pools move with the rhythm of the local Efik percussions. At Christmas, tourists are usually treated to some elaborate water displays while driving into the city. As I drove off on the second exit, I noticed that the three or four buses behind me were parking off by the service lane of the first exit, which led to the Government Hill. I guess they wanted to take a few pictures and selfies as evidence of visiting Calabar.


tired manI am tired but I don’t know why

Even when I try to figure out why

I find myself getting tired of the try

I just sit and watch hoping time will fly

And that this generation will just pass by

I am daily fed with what does not satisfy

The music, the movies, and the celebrity style

The news, the novels, and all the preaching seem awry

Yes, I feel all these and the deceptions therein should all die

Perchance, I might find a tabula rasa to write again. Sigh!

I certainly feel I want to cry

Because I want something new to buy

I do not doubt that I am probably a troubled guy

But my trouble is getting overwhelming or should I lie

That everything everywhere irritates me that I can’t deny?




Sorry the title is misleading. I just needed your attention. It’s not spelt Sanussi. It’s Sanusi.

Now that I have it for a few minutes, let me share this.

Last year, I hosted a guy in my office who had just returned from a one year posting with the Joint Task Force Operation in Borno State. I knew him quite well, having worked with him the previous year on some community based issues.

He appeared in the office with his official uniform, something close to the camo worn during the operation desert storm. He however looked quite frazzled and I asked what the matter was to his surprised that I noticed. I eventually discovered that he had gone through a lot in the heat of the battle against the Boko Haram insurgents.

Wanting more evidence on what he had gone through, he brought out his phone and proceeded to walk me through horrifying pictures of absolute carnage. He suddenly looked like a ghost to me because I couldn’t imagine how he managed to survive such intense fighting. He said to me something like this “Oga, we kill them, kill them, kill them tire.” When I asked how many Nigerian military men he had seen killed in action, he admit that several were killed but because they were more equipped, Boko Haram usually suffered heavier losses during battles. He noted that a lot of these insurgents were not Nigerians but from Niger and probably Chad.


As my pseudonym reveals, all things Calabar excites me. I literally go digging historical documentation to find something about my beloved city. Being a city that has a visible coloration of colonial foray, I literally drool over stories of the days when Efik men paraded themselves as the official mediators between the White man and black man.

I first came across this letter on an amazing group on Facebook called Nigeria Nostalgia. As hilarious as it seems, it opened a window into the years when the English language was separating the men from the boys in our colonial society. I recently came across it again while reading through other letters on the website called Letter of Note, and thought I should share the actual letter and also repost the transcript for those who might not be able to read the actual letter.

The letter was written in 1929 by a guy called Asuquo Okon Inyang to a government official in protest of his dismissal from work for laziness. His choice of words are quite hilarious, and I wonder if these words were actually permissible at the time.

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