Let’s talk about Nigeria for a minute

If you have followed my blog for a while you will know that Nigeria is one of my favorite things to write about, and these days it has been very hard to do that. But I want to overcome the difficulty and talk to you about Nigeria.

What have Nigerian politicians done for some of you that you want to kill all of us because of them? Some of you are ready to kill another person because of Nigerian politicians, people you don’t know and don’t know you? Will it kill you to admit that Jonathan was a terrible president and that Buhari, is equally as terrible?  Will you die if you admit that APC is just as selfish and evil as PDP?

Even if you can’t admit it in public because of your over-inflated ego, surely you can do that in private?  Surely you can lock yourself up in your room and admit that this country is not working. We have been in a recession for so long that recession jokes have all become dry. Surely somewhere in your heart you know that whether you believe in APC or PDP, Nigeria is not working.

These things are fact, these things are crystal clear but instead of us to work together we are bickering over politicians who do nothing for us.

As at the writing of this, there has been 226 days in 2017 and President Buhari has spent at least 152 days in the UK. As far as 2017 is concerned our president is closer to a being a British citizen than he is to being a Nigerian citizen not to talk of Nigerian president. In that time, the economy has remained in the same toilet Buhari left it in, Nnamdi Kanu, first of his name, has gained enough man power to  start an actual army down south, Boko Haram are back like they never left up north and then ASUU unleashes a mass population of idle youths into a very chaotic scene. There is not much room for excitement to be honest and it is very depressing when you think about it.

I am not trying to scare you but I need you to know that, cliche and banter aside, Nigeria is falling apart and very soon something will give. We as Nigerians are standing in a room filled with gas and instead of looking for a way out we are hoping and praying nothing ignites a spark. We will not survive like this much longer, even if we do make it passed Boko Haram, a failing economy and Nnamdi Kanu in one piece, oil is going away and it’s never coming back, our population is exploding and there will be even less opportunities than there are now.

I want you to know that your children and my children will grow up in a Nigeria that is much tougher than it is now unless we stop that from happening and we are running out of time.

If you don’t know what to do to make a big difference, start from the little things. Vote for your conscience, vote for the man or woman with the best plan even if they don’t have a political party with huge cash. Follow the activities of your state governor, your state legislature, the national assembly, ask them questions, do not compromise your integrity and if you have none, get some. Keep your loyalty for your conscience and not any politician or political party. Don’t keep quiet, let your voice be heard, don’t let sincere ignorance stand and don’t suffer fools. Let your presence be felt.

Nigeria may have done nothing for you but she needs you. She needs you more than she knows it. Stay safe, stay smart, stay woke.


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Failing Math Like A Boss

At some point in my life, I was pretty sure I had dyscalculia or as I like to call it, dyslexia for numbers  or better yet, the reason why I failed maths like a boss. See ehn, you just don’t fail math as many times as I did and not think you don’t have problems. 

Throughout school, my relationship with math was very abusive, it didn’t like me and it beat me very hard and very regularly. In fact the only time I was good at math was when I was solving an example someone else just finished solving. It’s not like I didn’t want to be good at it, I did, I just never was. 

In primary three my parents got me private math teachers, that didn’t end well. I remember one day, it was time for the lessons and I really wasn’t in the mood for it. So I locked the doors, went to my room and refused to open for the teacher. He knocked and knocked and knocked and I wouldn’t be bothered. Eventually he left, told my parents, who of course were livid. The only downside is that I had two lessons that week instead of one. It’s not like it helped my life anyway. 

In primary four I had to stay back two or three times a week to get private lessons from some of the teachers, which was fun because there was a male and female teacher, the female was my math teacher by the way. They were always flirting with themselves, eventually they married, had a kid and moved to US. The Nigerian dream. 

In secondary school it was not a different ball game, I was in a boarding school so I had a guardian who conincidentally was a math teacher at some point, my class teacher. She would eventually teach me math in Js 2 or Js 3, I can’t really recall, but it doesn’t matter I failed it anyway. 

The thing is, in my secondary school if you got below a certain score in math you’d have to take the entire year again. I almost always got the barest minimum score eligible for promotion, other times I’d fail it totally, but because my grades in other subjects were good enough, I’d qualify based on let my people go. And that’s how I struggled and travailed in the place of failure till I wrote WAEC. 
PS. If you’re wondering what happened in my JAMB math, well, so am I, because I passed it. 

My WAEC math exam is the most memorable exam of my life because it was literally in Chinese. I don’t care, I saw questions dealing with angles of elevations and depressions that told me to construct triangles.  My French teacher, Mrs Azubogu who knew I had problems with math was invigilating that day, she would walk up to me and see the confusion on my face, then she would try and cheer me on. That obviously didn’t help because my brain was dead to it and what is dead may never die. I failed it and only made it into University that year because my school mandated we wrote NECO, where I got a C in math. 

I actually thought WAEC was like a final break up between me and math, little did I know that rebound is a ****. First year, first semester we did statistics and what we did that year was basic further math, which meant it was quantum physics. 

That year the tech department in school made a mistake, they briefly uploaded our detailed scores on our school portals instead of just our grades. So I found out that out of a needed say, 45 marks to do let my people go I had 44. I went to file a complaint, Greek for I went to beg for my life. Carry over wasn’t my portion. As God would have it they added one more mark and I was a people let go. Downsidemy CGPA was like that team in a 4×1 relay race that started late. 

Post-school, my calculator has become a very important part of my life. I usually try to do the math in my head, but that’s not reliable. Funny enough even when we were allowed to use calculators in exams in secondary school, I was still failing. Sigh…this life is not my own. 

Failing Igbo Like A Boss

My French is better than my Igbo. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t speak Igbo very well, actually I don’t speak Igbo at all. My Dad wasn’t the biggest fan of the language so he never spoke it to us and I still don’t know why my mum never spoke it to us growing up. 

Before you think I’m blaming my parents, which I obviously am, I’ve lived most of my life around Hausa or Yoruba speakers and my French is better than my Yoruba or Hausa combined. Let’s just say,  je suis un peu fier du moi-même, juste un peu. (I can neither confirm nor deny that I checked google translate for that). 

In Primary school Igbo was never taught as a subject, we were above such tribalistic philistinism.  In secondary school however, that was a different case. 

I aced Igbo in Js 1 because the Igbo teacher gave us the exam questions before hand, so I cramed and poured. I was a boss. In Js 2, my school had no available Igbo teacher for my set so we skipped it. To be honest, I can’t really remeber much of what happened in my JS 3 when it comes to Igbo. 

In SS 2, I got the toughest Igbo teacher South East Nigeria has ever produced, she was like a hammer banging Igbo down my head by fire and force. Because of the syllabus, we were supposed to be reading Igbo literature and you have to understand that for some reason, I read Igbo fine. I just had no clue what I was saying. 

My Igbo teacher knew I was an Igbo language imbecile but, she would always ask me to interprete what I’d just read. Then when I couldn’t, she’d ask me to kneel down. She’d then go on a long monologue about how I was a ceremonial head. Apparently being the headboy meant you had to pass every subject with flying colours. This happened in every class at leat twice a week throughout my penultimate year. It happened so much that every time Igbo period came around on the time table, it meant fear and trepidation. Some of my classmates would even jeer me, asking if I was ready for the war to come and that is how the cycle would continue throughout till exams. 

It’s pretty difficult trying to pass an exam when you literally cannot understand the questions. My Igbo vocabulary at the time was limited to about 10-20 words, it has caught lingual atrophy now. If I didn’t see any of those words, it meant more blank space in my answer sheet and if I did see a word I knew, it meant chicken scratch handwriting was going in my answer sheet. 

When your exam answer sheet is filled with chicken scratched ink prints and blank spaces, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the failure that is about to hit you is gathering red biro. 

So, first term I failed, second term I failed third term I failed and each term I failed Igbo, the teacher would always call me to her office and hand me my partially marked exam script asking me to continue from where I stopped. 

I would sit down in her office, looking at the ceiling, chewing my pen and I still wouldn’t be able to form a coherent Igbo sentence. So when she got tired of seeing my face she’d send me away and when the result would come out, I would fail it. 

When I was given the option in my last year to drop Igbo, I dropped it like it was hot. Literally. The only thing that would have given me more joy, would be if I could drop mathematics.

Whenever I see that Igbo teacher now, I smile like we’re cool. Really we are, I don’t have anything against her. She was just doing her job, which included making my life miserable. I just wonder if my kids will ever learn Igbo. 🤔

A Trip To Unity high school, Kajola-Iboore, Ogun State

About a year ago, I found myself on the community development team of my school’s convocation planning committee. The broader committee was put together to create events and activities for the graduating class. Our job in the community development team was really to find something we could change around us.

We set out and soon we came across Unity high school, Kajola-Iboore/ Oke-Ore in Ogun state. Our committee staff members handled most of the formalities and eventually we were scheduled to go on a tour of the school to see what we could change.

The school was in a terrible state. The principal even told us that despite the horrid state, they would be grateful if we only managed to help build toilets. Unfortunately we couldn’t raise the money to do anything for the school.

They had a new building, with some new chairs that definitely would not service a quarter of the population. The school had filed complaints at different times to different levels of government for more assistance. All to no avail.

I will just drop the pictures here and allow you complete this post with your views on the state of our educational system in the comments section.

The roof of this building is missing half.
The Chairs they used. Many of them had nails sticking out or they were broken.
More broken chairs.


There are no windows in some parts. Only burglary bars, so, when rain falls it pours into the classrooms.
The roofs too are nearly caved in,
The roofs are also leaking. Rain also pours inside from them.


When we will start telling our stories?

Good morning, or whatever time of the day you are reading this. The truth is am not in the best of moods writing this actually that is an understatement am very angry. Why? Because I feel I wasted my life watching a Nigerian movie for 5 hours and I gained nothing. Five hours I can’t get back at all am angry at myself for sitting down to watch that terrible movie and my anger is also directed towards Nigerian movie makers who have refused to be creative and keep on doing the same unimaginative stuff save for some few movie makers. If you are a Nigerian movie maker and you are reading this just know you have failed our Nollywood industry.

Contrary to what some people think there are some good Nigerian movies but why people think so is because we live in a country where we place emphasis on hype rather than content movies like Figurine , Phone Swap (which is the best Nigerian movie I have watched in the 21st century in my opinion) and even more recently 93 days etc are good movies now all this movies had something in common which is they told stories which are relatable with the Nigerian community like 93 days for instance it was a story about the woman who saved Ebola from spreading in Nigeria at the expense of her life and it was emotionally gripping even if you have a lions heart you will be moved watching that movie it was that touching.

It’s a shame we call ourselves the 3rd biggest movie industry in the world (not best as people mistake it for) and we have not done a movie on Fela one of the greatest Nigerians to ever live on this earth and please don’t tell me about the American movie done in respect of Fela because in my own opinion that is not a true representation of our own legend. Why will we allow them to control our own narrative for us? Will they like it if we did a movie on Martin Luther,Malcolm X or even 9/11? I don’t think so, we should not allow them to control our narrative for us.

They say sometimes you need to think out of the box to create a good movie but in Nigeria’s case we just need to think within because our movie makers are yet to tell our best stories even a movie on Mary Slessor we have not done there are so many things I can mention we have not done a movie about but I will just leave it here please to our dear movie makers start telling our own stories and stop doing dumb stuff about village love, witchcraft , blood money etc you can do better than that please. God bless you .

15 Hip-Hop Collaborations That Rocked Nigeria    

Hip-hop they say is a universal language for hip hop lovers we have been inspired by Talib Kweli, Jay Z, Nas to mention a few. In Nigeria we have also had Modenine, MI and Eldee and a couple of others.In no particular order, here are my biggest 15 hip-hop collaborations that rocked Nigeria.

Nobody Test Me- Jesse Jagz ft Ice Prince & MI

Image by Body Lawson
This was a dope hip hop collaboration unifying the 3 Choc Boys to form hip hop alliance the song which was on Jesse Jagz’s debut album Jagz of all trades witnessed this 3 wordsmiths who were at the peak of their powers bringing their A-Game to this track and the truth is really nobody could test them at this time.

Ghost Mode – Phyno ft Olamide


When this two hip hop giants from both the East and West collaborated nobody was sure what will come out of it and whether they will strike gold but the truth is they didn’t strike gold but they hit platinum as this was the beginning of a partnership from the East and the West which led to more collaborations and this song was also on Phyno’s debut album No Guts No Glory.

Local Rappers- Reminisce ft Olamide, Phyno & Chigurl


This was a street anthem as this collaboration between kings of both the East and the West which also had Chigurl lacing the hook saw this 3 MC’s spitting and taking shots at punchline and English rappers stating that they are here to stay The song also won best collaboration at the Headies award earlier this year and was the lead single on Reminisce 3rd studio album Baba Hafusa.

Super sun (Remix) – Bez ft Eva, Eldee Da Don, Ice Prince.


After his supersun single he follows it up with a remix as the alternative singer took an unfamiliar route and put 3 rappers on the remix where all the rappers brought another dimension  to make it a hip hop classic and this song was also a lead single on his debut album Supersun.

Marry Me- Falz ft Poe & Yemi Alade


This was a smash hit single off his debut album Wazup Guy as Falz and Poe doing their thing while Yemi Alade played a supporting role with the hook.This was a humorous rap song centred around a girl who is frustrated with her man for not proposing to her after dating for a long time and instead opts for another woman the lyrics in this song make it a memorable rap classic.

Trybal Mark – Trybesemen


Trybesmen were the pioneers of hip hop in Nigeria (The others being SWAT ROOT and Remedies) with Eldee Da Don, Kaboom and freestyle who were the first members of this group and they came through with their smash hit single Trybal Mark which was the song that brought them into the limelight.

Shakomo- Remedies


This was another group which comprised of Eedris Abdulkareem, Tony Tetuila and Eddie Montana and they came together to do this groovy rap tune titled shakomo the track which earned rave reviews from critics and they also got a mention from Hip Hop World Magazine at that time for this track.

Spazmodic- Mode 9 & Terry the Rapman


This song according to hip hop critics is regarded as the best hip hop collaboration of all time in Nigeria based on just lyrics as both MC’s tried to outdo each other with their timeless bars and punchlines this song was on Mode 9’s mixtape Pentium IX and Terry Tha Rapman’s sophomore album The Rapman begins and a fun fact for you in the video of this song there was an unknown MI Abaga, Jesse Jagz and Ice Prince so you could say this was the making of stars.

Stylee – DJ Jimmy Jatt ft Tuface, Mode 9 & Elajoe


This was a jam for the streets especially in Lagos as DJ Jimmy Jatt enlists Mode 9 and Elajoe to do justice to this classic not forgetting 2Baba himself who had a solid verse and hook to follow up.This song later became the lead single on Jimmy Jatt’s debut album The Definition.

1,2,3 Remix- DJ Neptune ft MI, Naeto C & Dagrin


Another DJ again comes up with another hip hop classic as he recruits MI Abaga, Naeto C and Dagrin (of blessed memory) for this classic rap tune as this 3 MC’s all brought their best display of wordplay,metaphor and punchlines.

Government – Reminisce ft Olamide and Endia


A song off his 2nd studio album Alaga Ibile came this socially conscious rap tune called Government. This was a track speaking of the ills in the society and he had the Baddo himself and Endia on this track to make it a memorable tune and again it’s well worth noting that this song got Reminisce a mention on TIME magazine.

Eziokwu – Lynxx ft Ikechukwu, Phyno & Ill bliss


This was hip hop made in the east as Lynxx sought the help of his fellow Eastern brothers Phyno , Ikechukwu and Oga boss himself ill Bliss to make a street anthem which not only went viral in the east but all over the country.

U know my P – Naeto C ft Ikechukwu


Big boy rap hasn’t felt so good like this 2 MC’s doing it off Naeto C’s debut album which was also titled U know my P Naeto C and Ikechukwu just flowed seamlessly on this song and produced a feel good rap tune.

King Kong Remix -Vector ft Phyno, Reminisce, Classic & Uzi


After a well received original version of King Kong. Vector decided to go one better and do the remix bringing on Penthauze heavyweight Phyno, Babahafusa himself Reminisce, Classiq the Hausa rapper and the last but not the least the fastest rapper in Nigeria Uzi.All of them joined forces to bring forth a dope hip hop joint.

Sample Remix- Terry tha Rapman & Pherowshuwz ft Stereoman



This was a remake of the original sample track by Stereoman. Terry tha Rapman and Pherowshuwz combined to make a dope hip song which was on Terry tha Rapman’s 3rd studio album Boys Are not smiling and the song also got Pherowshuwz an award for the best rap single at the Headies.

Dear Nigerian Artistes

Dear Nigerian Artistes

Back in the 90’s we had musicians who were socially conscious as I listened to Onyeka Onwenu’s One Love, Daddy Showkey’s Fire Fire. Even Fela of blessed memory was known for doing socially conscious music, criticising the government and speaking of the ills in our society. Even in the early and mid 2000’s when there were songs like Jaga Jaga by Eedris Abdulkareem which got him in trouble with the former President Obasanjo. There were songs like Power of Naija by 2face, eldee-_-talkmuzikMe I go yarn by Eldee, Only 4 Naija by Terry tha Rapman. 2face-idibia-tuface

But our Nigerian artistes are no longer socially conscious. Save for very few most are only after scoring their next big hit and will decide to do a couple of club bangers to get airplay on the radio.

Here is the problem for me, it’s not all about the hits because hits come and go what remains is the value added to the society.

Imagine for a second artists like Olamide, Phyno or even Tekno did a song on the societal ills in our country. Music is communication and communicating in Nigeria’s case should entail singing about the abnormalities in our society. It becomes a beacon of hope to the people and in another way demands more from the government. The truth is music is powerful.

eedris-abdulkareem-1  r-2148015-1387917645-4656-jpeg

Dear Nigerian artistes know that you are very powerful in your own way and can bring about change in your own little way not everybody can relate to popping bottles, driving the best cars, getting money but people will definitely relate to your songs of hope for a better nation and a society on. God bless you for reading.

Also, remember, the greatest Nigerian artiste to ever hold the microphone, made most of his music about the social ills in Nigeria. I’m talking about the one and only Fela Anikulapo Kuti


The Small Boy & The Shop

His tiny slippers slap against the sand covered concrete floor. He quickens his pace and burst into a sprint, his loose shorts billow in the wind and the polythene bag in his hands dance to the beats of his footsteps.

The muscles at the back of his tiny legs contract and expand like those of a seasoned athlete. He does this a lot but not for the fun. He does it out of necessity. He slows down and brings himself to a halt as he arrives his mother’s shop.

She is not around and he must watch it for her, it is their meal ticket, his next school fees. He looks around as people his age waltz around in their school bags and uniforms, what fun they must be having he thinks to himself.

He puts his polythene bag in between his legs and continues watch over his mother’s shop. He hopes passers-by stop today to buy his mother’s Gala. Although he is hungry, possession is different from ownership.

He takes a good look around his mother’s shop. The bridge overhead provides shade from the sun, the bus stop bench provides a place to seat and to put his mother’s tray of Gala. This is his mother’s shop, an under the bridge bus stop. It’s not all bad, at least the drama of the passenger’s and bus conductors is entertaining.

“Give me 2 Gala” a man demands, shaking a hundred naira note. The boy gets excited, he’s one small step closer to his school fees despite it being so far away.

Useless Is A Country Determined To Destroy It’s Future

June 24, 2016,


I had been chasing the date for the past four years. It was the day I would finally finish school, have my own BSc and have all the tools needed to become my own person. I could now get a job and earn some money.  I was finally through with school (if you’re thinking masters, stop being a buzzkill)


So, I graduated and sat and waited, now I have to take it to the point of prayer because NYSC is broke. The dollar is biting them hard and although they serve no legitimate national purpose, and you technically can’t get employed without it, we still run the scheme, because that’s what we do in Nigeria, we run irrelevant things and bicker needlessly over the important.


NYSC, they say (we don’t know for sure because some numbskull decided history was not important enough to be taught in schools) was set up to promote national unity, after the civil war. Today, Nigeria still operates a federal character system because our unity is so fragile that if one ethnic group is perceived to even try and dominate the rest bombs will be going off everywhere.


Never mind that NYSC takes about 60%-80% (Once again I don’t know for certain since a collection of elderly people called the government decided not all gist is for the young) of our annual budget on youth development which is daft because NYSC doesn’t cover anything close to half of Nigeria’s youth on an annual basis.


But I digress.


The world economic forum says we have the worst primary education system in the world, we don’t even have half the quality of university education of Ghana. Yes, I said Ghana and it’s not okay. In case you have forgotten we sent Ghanaians packing and named cheap multipurpose bags after them just for the fun of it and now we’re the ones going to school in Ghana. We should all be crying and eating shawarma and then next year we go and set new records for mass failure but dollar is too high for that.


So, let’s talk solutions. I wondered if the Federal Ministry of Education has a plan to fix our educational system and I checked. To my surprise, the last time the Nigerian Federal Ministry of Education had any plan for our system was when Oby Ezekwesili was minister in 2006. That was 10 years ago in case you misplaced your calendar and Obasanjo was still in power.


Should you go through that 2006 education roadmap, you would notice where it was noted that prior to 2006, there was no plan for the primary education sector whether on paper or in someone’s imagination. As for the secondary and tertiary whatever plans that had been drafted prior to that time were still drafts. Nothing was being implemented, except the UBE.


To put things in perspective between 1960 and 2016, there has never been an even partially implemented long term plan for our educational sector in its entirety except for Obasanjo’s UBE scheme. What happened to Oby Ezekwesili’s plan you ask, well it went with her when she left office because we hate continuity.


At this point I’d like to say that if you’ve been head of state, president or prime minister of Nigeria, whether you are dead or alive, kneel down, close your eyes and raise your hands.


This is so important because in a few decades we will be the 3rd largest population in the world, which means we would have the 3rd largest youth population and the 3rd highest school age demographic. This in turn means we would need the 3rd largest school system in the world.


Factor in today’s reality where we spend 60%-80% of our youth development budget on NYSC, and absolutely 0% on our education (just look at our schools do they look like they get money from government) how are we going to survive in the face of diminishing resources?


As it stands we already hold the Guinness book of records for the country with the highest number of out of school children with 10.5 million children also 40% of Nigerian children aged 6-11 do not attend any primary school. (I know this because foreign stats exist)


Essentially, the only active plan we have for our entire education system is Obasnjo’s 2004 UBE that was supposed to grant free education to primary and secondary school students. Problem is more than a decade later, It’s never been reviewed or improved but we’re content with using unqualified and untrained NYSC corpers to instruct the future of this country in the classrooms. This is the future 3rd most populous country in the world.


By the time we hit population overload, oil will be a lot less valuable than it is now, and if you think oil isn’t even valuable now, just wait till companies like Tesla starts mass producing, Uber starts using electric cars and everyone’s clean energy industries are up and running.


And this is the really fun part, in an even fewer number of decades, the bulk of Nigeria’s political class that has been leading us since 1960, will all be gone. So they would have ruined our country while we fought over them and gave them grandiose burials.


Sometimes, I want to rewire my vocal cords to my chest so I can literally shout with my chest that we are sinking into deep shit, and because it’s not yet near our noses doesn’t mean it’s not going to smell.

Numb To The Bomb

Feature image from 123rf.com 
When I was five years old, I returned from school one Tuesday afternoon and I was ecstatic after I realized that my frenemy, NEPA had given us electricity. I turned on the TV for my usual Channels TV afternoon cartoon digest (as I usually did whenever NEPA gave us light). That afternoon there was no cartoon, no kiddies show, there weren’t even Nigerians on the TV. They were showing smoke coming out of gigantic buildings and I wasn’t in the mood for smoke coming out of gigantic buildings, I wanted smoke from Voltron in space not aeroplanes on the earth. I was angry but what could I do. I sat I front of the TV not understanding the impact of what it was I was watching. The fallout of that day would spur the US into a decade long war in the Middle East and open the gates of hell for the entire world. Osama bin Laden had crashed planes into the heart of America and the America wanted his head on a pike and now the movement bin Laden catalysed want all our heads, preferably in tiny bits.  

That was a time when one terror attack slowed down the earths rotation, attacks were fewer and far between but claiming a lot of lives with each strike. Wars were started and many of those wars haven’t ended while some just changed weapons from bullets to ideology. You felt a terror attack like you were a citizen of that country, we were all global citizens then. But the bullets kept spewing out from the chambers, the bombs kept detonating, planes kept falling out of the sky and we keep losing people like its the rapture.

Then Boko Haram came to my home country of Nigeria. We thought we crushed it, we massacred the leadership, showed the carcass on national television, we thought we had won till another bomb went off and we realised we only cut of the snakes tail. Explosion after explosion, gunfight after gunfight, my country men and the brave soldiers in the front lines couldn’t hide it anymore, we were losing. We lost our towns in the north, many of them only need a tumble weed to look like scenes from abandoned Wild West towns in the movies. Now we’re losing the south too, fighting one war on multiple fronts.

I became scared of Christmas bangers, something I had loved as a child. The loud exploding sounds were no longer joyous and my fear grew to dread and now disgust. I hate the sounds of balloons popping and every loud bang has me looking for the nearest table to duck under. I anoint myself every morning before I leave the house, not even because I’m looking for divine favour but just I want to hire Gods private security team. This is normal to me, not as normal as those living in war zones, but it’s something I no longer get surprised by.

Bombs now go off everyday.

Suicide bombers now sit beside us.

I have grown numb, I’m no longer as grief stricken by the loss of life after terror attacks, I now concern myself with the political fallout and military reaction. What’s that saying, “people die everyday and it’s only when it’s someone close to you that you care”.

I know this is wrong but what can I do, I’d be clinically depressed if I took every terror attack personal, unfortunately sometimes I have to unlook.

I dream of a world were terrorists didn’t mislead people with religion and dogma, where bombs didn’t go off and bullets were not shared like pure water, where people weren’t blown to smithereens or perforated by bullets. But then I wake up, and boy oh boy am I wide awake. But I still pray that my dreams will come true. They have to.

God keeps us all safe.