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Monday 29 December 2014

Chibok Kidnapping: A tale of Intricate Cruelty.


Onye sikwa ma o buru ya.

In the wee hours of 15th April of 2014, the boarding students of Government Secondary School, Chibok were relieving the stress of the external examinations. Some were in their beds while others may be burning the candles in an ill-fated attempt towards brightening the prospects of their very bleak Nigerian future when a group of militants, largely believed to be Boko Haram insurgents, gave them an unanticipated awakening, rounded them up, unperturbed by the Nigerian security agents in an attack that spanned for more than two hours. After the attack, over two hundred girls were reported missing.
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The Ghost of Christmas Now.


"Why won't you travel?" Chimezie asked me again as he took a swig of his chilled beer. We were sitting in a cavernous but empty bar. We are the only "customers" in that bar; actually, Chimezie was the only customer because I was not taking anything. I was intensely preoccupied, too preoccupied to enjoy my favorite bottle of Guiness stout. I could not even order anything. Chimezie's voice echoed through the bar making his statement sound distinctly judgmental like an angry god who has been denied a fattened animal sacrifice.

"You don't want to answer my question?"
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“To Touch or Not To Touch”: Troubling Pieces In The Sign Of Peace.


                                                                                                                               Okwuanya Pius-Vincent
The day could pass for any other day. It started as a sunny bright day which was a rarity in a week where the heavens were either pummeling the earth with stone-like hails or caressing it with a careless drizzle that was as frustrating as it was intermittent. Thus when I woke up in the morning and saw the rays of sunlight sneaking through the window and gnawing at my eyes, I knew that I had no other excuse. I had been wishing that the week’s pattern would continue on that Sunday as I was frantically searching for reasons to not go to church.  I opened my window to glare at the sun but it was just there smiling indulgently like a teacher trying to pass a lesson to a particularly thick student. However,
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The Trouble with Nollywood.


Beautiful or handsome face? Check. Awesome body? Check. Luxurious lifestyle? Double check! These are all features of a Nollywood actors and actresses. These talented individuals have inarguably earned themselves this position of admiration. They have had to climb to the very top of their careers through a dint of hardwork and possibly a very big dose of luck. However, the current trajectory of Hollywood does these talented individuals a great disservice, it shames Nollywood and has a trickling-down effect on the identity of the Run, Karz, Jaal, Om whole country. 


It goes without saying that the media, both the entertainment media and the news media play a very crucial role in shaping how the country are perceived in the outside world.
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2015 Election: A Walk in the Dark.

                                              
In preparation for the quite decisive showdown between the two major candidates towards determining the future of the country, a good number of people have resorted to polemics, diatribe and outright falsehood as they try to sell the election for what it is not. The truth is that the election is not the biblical Armeggedon between the forces of good and evil with either of the two candidates portrayed as either an angel or a demon. Camps have been divided into GEJites and Buharists with virtually no in-betweens. 


 Depending on which of the camp you were able to listen to, President Goodluck Jonathan is either a Devil-incarnate or the second coming of The Messiah, whose parousia would signal the end of strife and catapult Nigerians into the paradise.
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The Wrong Turn of Christmas.


                 By Chimezie Anajama and Okwuanya Vincent.
I could remember the first day I saw him. It was at a friend's
birthday party. The weather was dull, the evening quiet and moisty,
sending all the stars to sleep. Myriads of rainbow party light, hung
on the aging ceiling of the open T-shaped venue, danced and swirled
like there was a separate music playing to it. The crowd thinned. It
was not a popular party. An evening get-together of close friends. He
sat faraway from the light. Preferring the semi-dark corner to the
glitz of colourful dancing light. Despite this, I still noticed that
his eyes roved on me, even when I sat down, trying to catch a breath
from the herculean job my birthday friend, Jane, gave me. Mc of the
occasion. That job earned eyes to me. But his was different, wanting,
searching, seductive in admiration.
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