Iconic Monument

..where you get what you should know


The sight of beggars on the roads and streets of Lagos has never been pathetic as this one I saw. It was an eye sore. Under the scouching sun of a hot afternoon was a man begging for alms. The sun was so that it could melt the skin if their were no sweat glands underneath it. His sight soaked tears in my eyes. Stroke of pains and sympathy laced my heart. He could neither walk nor sit. He could only talk and see. Then I realised my ability to walk, sit, talk, jump, run et al is not a right but a privilege. The man crawled on his belly. ‘What trauma could be revolving in his psyche’ I thought.

The weather reader on my smartphone reads 30 degrees Celsius. Meaning the weather condition could almost boil water if it is tripled. As taught in Geography class back then in school: ‘The higher the point, the hotter’ but ‘The higher the altitude (height), the colder’. The man showed no sign of this analogies’ correctness. He was brimming with satisfaction and contentment. I wondered what he would have been like if he could walk. How pathetic!

Crawling on the floor as hot as that could be pain. Great pain. Almost hopeless as he was, he wore a very cheerful disposition. He bellied his pains and displayed a proud and happy mood. Showing that: ‘with breath still oozing out of me, I have hope. All is not lost’. No wonder, I interpreted his disposition to be: “There is light in the end of the tunnel”. What a lesson from a mere beggar (if may say). The so-called down-trodden man on the floor of a typical Lagos-road was the teacher on that day. Poverty striken fraction of the society some may say he is. A lesson you might not never learn from anyother person. Not even the elite!



It was an indecisive day as I felt the heat of betrayal, more than any day I can remember in my chronicles. Some days back, I stumbled upon an e-book on how to be a better speaker. There, I saw “integrity” as one of the attributes of a good speaker. Then, I rushed to my dictionary (Cambridge Advanced Learner’s Dictionary, Third Edition) where integrity was defined to be:“the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles that you refuse to change” Hardly could I forgive myself for longer part of that day due to my violation of this great virtue.

In the institute for Computer Training which I attended, the bad eggs among the student dropped the bombshell- they stole a phone. Hell broke out. No one must go home was the instruction as the search game began. At this moment, I was very agitated. Maybe afraid, too. I didn’t know for what reason. I couldn’t explain the reason. I broke my heart in the process.”Soon I will repair it” was what I told myself to keep a positive attitude.

My anxiety heightened when the search game was reaching its brim. A man called Alfa – a young nice-scenting chap in his late twenties or perhaps early thirties- was beckoned. Guess what we were told we would drink a water mixture if the thief fails to show. I felt so bad. Clueless and confused on whether or not to drink the water which I shouldn’t drink. I am not supposed to even think of drinking it or not. I shouldn’t have a second thought. I am not drinking. That’s all! Remembering the definition of integrity, I felt I lacked it that moment. I misplaced it totally. It hurt me so much. It was against my idiosyncracy. Against my spiritual ethos. I betrayed my heart.

I was lucky as I breath a sigh of relief when suddenly, the phone- Z3- belonging to one Kayode was said to have been found. No one knows where and how except when. I replayed the possible scene if it wasn’t found. We would all have been compelled and condemned to drink from the water. Diabolical water of only God knows where it from or what it contains.
It was as if I had committed a great crime. If I had, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself anytime soon. Thank God I didn’t. I should have stood my ground even deep down my heart. Fully prepared to make whoever know this is what I stand for and I can’t change it for such weak reason- that is what I term as integrity. I had learnt a lesson which I will keep in my head for years to come. And I will teach anyone that come my way.

This is why I have come to teach you the lesson of I-N-T-E-G-R-I-T-Y. It is a very important aspect of our lives. If you stand for nothing, you will fall for anything. I learnt mine this way, hence I give you a million dollar advice. Wouldn’t you rather heed to it. Whatever you believe as right don’t forfeit it for anything so that at the end you will not betray your heart and never be able to forgive yourself. Neverheless, be careful so that you won’t be foolish in decision making. You have the content in your head to juxtapose right from wrong. I have forgiven myself and I believe Almighty Allah has too. You may never be able to. Maintain high satndard of moral uprightness and spiritual balanceness, then you will be happy in life and the hereafter.

The sight of the poor state of our roads saddens the heart. The roads are weeping but we just can’t sense it. And we can’t but help weep with roads before the government seeking for their swift aid. We are on our knees begging for action to save our lives from the havoc afflicted upon us as a result these roads. Calling them death trap is an understatement; the roads are ready-made grave hungry to swallow up lives and gulping the blood of innocent Nigerians.
Roads are very important ammenity in the development of the economy. They are the veins and arteries that transport the flow of development and stability into a nation’s economy. When not available or not up to standard, citizens pay with blood and loses. Likewise the economy.
Days back, the news of Baba Obasanjo’s flat tyre incidence along Lagos-Ibadan expressway crept into the news and we all thank God for his survival. This I believe should be clarion call if only they think! It shows the dwindling condition of these roads and nothing is done about it. So sad. Infact, if these so called leaders can periodically fall victim of this challenges, maybe they will be able to ascertain their level of irresponsiveness. We can’t stand and fold our arms watching our roads become our enemies overnight. This is where the government, stakeholders and citizens aliike must stand to up the ante. Else, we might not live to tell the story.
A supposed 30-40 minutes journey last longer than it should due to these lowly maintained roads in the country. The masses are at the receiving end of this whole unfortunte scenes. I believe we are entitled to the better lives if we leaders at the helms of affairs. But there is no modicum of this most times.
Evil geniuses among the men of the underworld seize the medium of road block caused by its poor state to perpetrate their evils. Come to Asolo-Isawo road in Ikorodu or even the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, the roads are bad. A day on the road means almost a corresponding period of medication as a result of the topsy-turvy road. It is appalling! We beg for an outright response from the government at all tiers. Please and please do something now!
We hope soon after this, our hot tears of plight can be replcaed with cool flash of smile. I believe if this is done, we can begin to have some level of improvement in our community and even the country at large.
Also, citizens has their respondibilities to play in this course. Upholding proper maintenance of the provisions from the government in lieu of the vandalization which we see around. This must stop, too!



“Write!” my mind commanded.

“I am tired” I replied defiantly but silently.

This was the story as I showed a somewhat lazy attitude towards writing that day. All I heard was the flapping of wings and  a very feeble agonizing sound of pain. Pretty more painful and agonizing than that of a mother in labour. Curious to see what it was, I yanked my shorts off my thigh up my hip. As I made my way towards the passage where the sound was dripping I searched everywhere in my head looking for a guess of what could be happening. I got a clue of what it was – it was more like a bird trying to fly.

Being a lover of pets, I felt the pain to base of my feet. The pain’s sharp edge pierced me from head to toe. Rush of fear and horror circumference my face recurrently like an ocean wave. I stood rooted to my spot. I watched as the fowl battled for breadth. It outstretched its lifeless  legs, poked its dangling neck and began to foam. Still sympathizing, a cold breeze swept my feet away. Just then, the  clouds rolled in.

Everything I saw got me thinking. Thank God I didn’t for long. I immediately remembered the lines of a radio personnel: ‘Maybe those graves you see house ideas that can change the world’. I copied the link of these lines into my head and I felt motivated to write. I raced to my pen and notepad.

At this moment, I began to see the genuineness of the verities contained in his lines.  If everyone could translate their ideas into action then the world would transcend its present state. I thought. “There would have being no story of a man who wanted to develop the technology of mind calling” It would have being a celebration of an innovative invention. A great one it could have being. Record breaking. Do you think mind calling is impossible? Ask the deads!

Mind calling in case you don’t know saves you the stress of punching those keys on your gadgets to reach out to people. All you need do is think about them. Behold! you are communicating without dancing of the lips. No cost incurred. No terms and conditions except that you must be alive!

As a Muslim, I believe the Paradise is where this exists. Maybe. Just maybe those tombs could transport it down here. Or even better dreams.

All of these burn down to you remolding your ideas into actions. Don’t make your grave a hub of ideas. Make it a house of fulfilment of eternal bliss. Whatever innovation or idea radiating the orbit of your psyche, propel it out of yourself. It may turn around every oddity here and there in this dwindling world of ours.


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