My father died for somebody’s dream of one Nigeria. Every morning he would go out to fight. And every morning my mother would cry. One day my father did not return, felled by the bullets of the thug that has Ikeja International Airport named after him. I am the new warrior, ashes born of the massacre in Asaba…
If you hear tomorrow that I've been struck down by lightning, here's why…
We need to go back to the way we were raised. We learnt respect for our elders, obedience and the value of a good upbringing. Above all, we learnt about the important things in life…
A voice on the phone in the middle of the night: Call Nigeria! Call home! Call Now!
You can always get better, do more, fly higher, reach farther…
"Daddy! Daddy!" she shrieked, "The bus ride was bumpy!" Man, I really would have loved a bumpy bus ride to my primary school, FIVE miles from what passed as my home…
You can choose a goal and decide whether you want to do the work that is required or not. You're free to choose success. You're at liberty to accept success. Everyone is invited but not everyone will accept the invitation.
Why are some people happy and others unhappy? Why are some people rich and others poor?
I wonder why these scientists and researchers have not been able to find out how the stem cells can help cure millions of Africans infected with the HIV/AIDS…
Perhaps the antecedents of any serious modern black South African literary production could be located in the fifties when political repression was at its most physically visible…
Perhaps the antecedents of any serious modern black South African literary production could be located in the fifties when political repression was at its most physically visible…