Celebrating Citizenship Patriots

One has never brought to the fore why heroes and heroine are quietly slipped by. Except when they have done a successful feat or are turned a new age , or returns mother earth that such profile would become public. After this, what next?

The fact that some heroes such as Alhaji Ado Bayero, Emir of Kano and Mrs Dora Akunyili, former D.G NAFDAC and Information Minister have ceased to breathe doesn’t grant the reason that after condolences and burial their stories will be gone with the wind. Such people need to be immortalised. But these great exemplary figures of the pas t as well present , dead or alive, where are they and why aren’t we Citizens of our time emulating their lives and principles? Why aren’t they the history that should be recorded in the museums of our Country? Why aren’t their generation as well as Government portray them as fabrics of every average Nigerian citizen?

Yet again to those whose lives have been cut short, why is the end of their story cut short by a never-ending police reports and series of unidentified killers or appalling reports suddenly swept under the carpet? Is it because they’re dead and gone equal the matter born but wrong? To those alive, they too have to think this coming. Who and why are the forces of evil prevailing and getting the upper hand of them than the successes they strive to defend? What seems to be the factor that always capture the unapproved qualities in them in their sojourn of the various fields they’re in: be it Academic, Political and their like? Why is it difficult to proclaim the achievements of good deeds of the people come across irrespective of tribe, language and States. For we are 37 states with the population of 160 million plus alive or dead, at least a person is good enough to extol another person’s patriotic deeds as well as terrorist capabilities across 365 or 366 days for a Country such as ours to forge on.

Finally, what are we living citizens doing to become a Country of envy. For it isn’t good to fold our arms while we have the machinery and weaponry to build a nation weaved with multi-dynamic features, tools and beings of Patriotism. The day one begins to be the agent of change to his environment will thus be the seed that will germinate across people who propagate civil discipline and morals, a vision they may undergo and achieve in days, decades, generations and. Century to come. But what one prays to ponder are: Can I be the one that would see to fruition the leadership and citizenry qualities, a fight of national unity just to be a Hero/heroine? Who are against me this journey of Patriotism and who is/are out there I can join forces and strength with to win this? How can I be a role model of an average Nigerian Citizen to live and be emulated by others.?

It goes on and on and on, Questions that may be answer only if we can be the Change this Country deserves irrespective of our weaknesses, failures , defeats and challenges, we shall move on and strive to be called the Nigerians who celebrate and promote Citizen turned Patriots.

Freedom

Freedom is best defined as the ability to enjoy Risks as a measure of building successful yet highly determined goals, Priorities and Principle worthy to attribute as yours.

  • Locked With Looks

    Alone I am, being watched closely.
    Perceived with fear rubbed smoothly,
    Never knew I am Popular though not known,
    Yet I feel unsafe says my hunch.
    Who is sighting me among in this bunch of crowds,
    Either as Friends to meet or Foe for Kill!

    Still I know I fear no grudge,
    Personally, Professionally and Politically;
    For I won’t meet my end in a rush,
    Or want to grow old and judge.
    No wonder I feel like a Celebrity,
    That loves to dodge or be brushed.

    May not seek to search for dates;
    And Keen to yearn by the gates,
    From my home or with my friends.
    In the Clubs, Market and Gardens,
    I will live my life without your consent;
    So build your plans and dare to present.

    Befriend or Pretend to know me,
    With envy or esteem deep within;
    Not minding what you think,
    Or what you feel, act and say about me.
    I live to be free nevertheless,
    Else I become a script fiddled by all.

    Rolling Stones gathering Little Moss

    I search in vain.
    To beseech the thoughts unveiled
    Yet in endless convey,
    Is what I try to portray;
    These words in me betray.
    All I plan to say
    Yet still I pray,
    That I get my message straight. .

    For the thousand speed of thoughts,
    That fights to keep aloft.
    And in several moods,
    Its traffic makes me mute.
    Still it comes around
    Like a contemplative lurking around,
    And keeps my brain hot
    With rounds of sages taught.

    Now I wonder why I wander,
    To ponder all my heart utters.
    For the struggle to speak to the brain,
    All the moods and thoughts swayed,
    Still the battle for both to agree;
    Becomes the war deep within.  
    And so is the thought of me,
    That slows me still.

    To get the words 
    That makes me speak
    Together with heart that screens its mood.
    Is all the stubborn process but few actions shown, 
    Oh please hurry and let’s display.
    All the inner world of me
    For I can’t wait to say all I’ve planned to act
    Impulses seen for others to react. 

    Yet in dismay or to my delight a different approach is brought to light. 
    For I imagined the response which may be an insight,
    The observational response to the person intended.,
    Who gives off the actions I projected;
    Or returns the message of mine rejected.
    With a sharp or blunt mood and actions outright,
    Oh how wrong I envisaged as my foresight
    A conversation to behold for knowledge shared by both. .  

    Professing A Healthy Love

    Fresh is the wind that taste so sweet

    As we stand before the garden lit

    Sharing thoughts of memories deep

    And promises that we should keep

    Like one refreshed in new beliefs

    Is our profound Love renewed with ease. 

     

    Thanks to the day I met you

    Or accidentally you brushed me

    Our eyes met that pushed a trigger

    A wanton of desire for us to hire. 

    It became our toast of sweet melody

    A song turned anthem for me and you. 

     

    Who thought it would be a love to admire

    Like mustard seed planted without water

    Became a tree for people to cater

    All their bitter experiences gone by observing our love as their shelter. 

     

    So in days we wean without being tired

    The strive to work it out with a passion to sire

    We become teachers of life in default

    As it makes room with God who heals every fault.