The Essentials of Life: Philosophical Note by Christian Ovbaikhena Isuku

Life is vain, hollow but mysterious. It is the first as well as the most complicated programming ever done. It's so complex and intricately interwoven that it eludes and shall dodge any type of explanation; be it geographical, philosophical or even religious.

This life owes its complexity mainly to gross misunderstanding of its basic simple facet by man. Earthlings step into the complex without first enjoying the basic simple things of life.

Apart from serving his Almighty Creator, man is here at this time range and within this space of the cosmos basically to be born, taken care of till he could cater for himself; cater for himself for a while and then replicate himself or rather reproduce, all thing being equal together with if need be. Also to cater for his offspring for a while then die off-- either he goes back to his Creator as asserted by majority of the religions or simply goes into an eternal unconscious oblivion as upheld by most scientists and atheists. Whichever way, I don't care since he ceases to exist physically on this plain.

Succinctly put, man is primarily born to breathe, eat(drink), shelter, reproduce if need be and die. These remain basic and constant. Others are only additional entitlements which are being mistaken to increase pleasure. Fame, for instance is almost inconsequential to a fulfilled and simple life time; it is just one of these mundane, psychological and secondary wants which bring false sense of pleasure and fulfillment. To be more serious, can somebody bet on the fact that Aristotle of Greek philosophy and classical sciences as well as Abraham Lincoln of American politics still retain the knowledge anywhere they are (if at all they are somewhere) that their names are yet idolized, making waves and thought across the world today? If at all they are aware of thier names and praises being sung all over the world, then of what use or importance is it to them there? I know this is quite metaphysical in nature but, you can however attempt it if you can.

Pleasure itself on earth is almost an illusion and hence can be termed to be in nonexistence. It lasts for while, suddenly turning into pain when done at the extreme. Such that when totally refrained from also brings a kind of desire that accompanies deprivation. This also initiates pain and sorrow. Man is in a way admonished by nature to be moderate at the same time denying him basic parameters and sufficient attributes to attain this, hence his continuous deviance.

The fact is that what one can take as being close to pleasure and earthly euphoric state is nothing but setting and fulfilling goals and targets. If the goals are achieved there is joy, though momentary, but when there is failure to achieve these goals, there is sorrow and pain, this is also quickly eroded with another future set goals and target. Once man is unable to correct this state of sorrow for a long time probably as a result of loss of vital natural, psychological and even spiritual machinery to correct this, he now falls into depression, which itself is a state of lack of set goals and accompanying hopes of achievements; it is actually a state of lonliness in a world filled with co-humans and hence the urge to hurriedly leave the earth through the only known route- death.

So conclusively, we should endeavor to enjoy the basic things of life, these are actually programmed in nature. God has made it so. Being so ambitious is cool. Fellow humans falling on your feet singing your praises is fine but always take time to eat your natural meal of roasted maize and pear or roasted plantain, yam and oil; take your bath in slow moving glimmering stream, dry yourself by the naked fire flame and watch the sky, the stars and the magic they play alongside the moon, while at thesame time breathe in fresh, unadulterated air away from the industrial parks and cities polluted by modernization and misplaced civilization. This is also close to pleasure that I know here on earth. This is near a perfect life experience!

ISUKU O. ISUKU, jnr.

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Stephanie Otobo's Allegation and the Lack of Creativity

I watched Stephanie Otobo’s claim yesterday. From the incoherence in her voice and the vague descriptions she gave to places she actually alleged she went with Apostle Suleman, I discovered that although she was bold at her craft, she is scarcely creative. Perhaps, the gladiators behind the whole plot would have done well to seek the service of a more creative actress to play the written script, rather than the inexperience Otobo. Perhaps, an audition of who would take the leading role in the saga was thrown underground, but only the pink-hair lady was seen as qualified.

It is no longer a secret that Apostle Suleman’s reputation has come under attack, solely because the gladiators behind the scene feel that his criticisms of ethnic and religious cleansing have become tormenting. Thus, in a bid to seal the Clergy’s lips (the only one who has risen to defend Christians of recent), they could divert his attention from their devilish executions and hence keep the world blind.

Starting with the script which by any standard is considered mediocre; I would say it was either prepared in hurry or the scriptwriter lack the faintest ray of creativity through his or her brain. To start with, the setting of the script shouldn’t have been in Lagos. It should have been somewhere else, maybe in Ontario or New York. Then, maybe marriage should have been erased from the plot upon rereading. The marriage issue made the entire script incongruous and unreal. A public figure like Apostle Johnson Suleman would not promise a stripper marriage and go ahead to impregnate her when he knows fully well it would smell his reputation. It should have just been a sex story without marriage; perhaps it would have been real. There shouldn’t have been impregnation at all. The scriptwriter should have known that later on, evidences would be demanded.

And the claim that Apostle Suleman gave Otobo concoction to remove the pregnancy when she returned to Nigeria, and then the clergy left the hotel room for her to bleed to death was too surreal to be real. That part of the script should have been cut off before it was acted.  There are other parts of the scripts that were unprofessional, but I choose to discuss the above aspects because their incongruousness was too glaring, like the mediocre scripts acted by Nollywood. Please, for future purpose, scripts for blackmail should be properly written and edited so it will appear real.

Then, directing my criticism to the actress - Stephanie Otobo – I would say she did her best, but in the overall rating, she scored below average.   There are thousand and one talented ladies who could have played that script far better than Otobo. The way she was smiling while describing what she considered emotionally disturbing was unprofessional on her part. And for crying out loud, I expected the young lady to be able to say the script off hand instead of reading verbatim from the written script. I am taking my time to outline these errors because Nollywood industry has become irrelevant because of them.

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Celestial Perfection: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

If you look at the earth
and the whole possessions
she prides on her brows -
the sun, the stars, the moon,
the evergreen plains, valleys
and the verdant hills rising
unto the mercuric clouds -
you would notice that in totality,
they reflect how beauteous you are.

The sun captures your brightness;
the moon, your soothing calmness;
the stars are the flickers of light
you pile on your crown...

Then,
the evergreen plains,
the awesome valleys
and the bluish sky and oceans
speak of the freshness
which kisses your skin,
while the high-rising hills
model your welcoming pride.

Thus, because through your reflections,
through your awesome attributes,
the earth came to be,
you are not of earthly beauty,
but of celestial perfection.

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A Little Child Shall Lead Them: Poem by Bright Afeikhe

Warm as the southern hemisphere;
The warmth of a mother to a baby,
The voice of my education spoke:
Is it a logical sequence -  that one
May suspend the biological need
For the relative convenience of another,
Albeit even from one's own progeny?

My superlative mind could not fathom
Because here she stooped, bent and broken,
hidden in the world and forgotten,
Yet clueless of derision,so long she had the
Baby.

What is love? what's the scientific algorithm?
'Any quantumical properties?' Came the voice of
My education. Can you statistically measure it?

My baffled stance took on motion;
The mother was moving and I followed
Her face I could see was broken
And her lips
seemed torn in different pieces by life.

Just then she kissed her baby.
Amidst my awe and shock came
My education's voice; it came asking
What's the ecological arrangement?
Symbiosis or commercialism?
Could it be dwarnic instinct?
Or some superfluous theory yet
Uncovered.

In my meditative musings
I did not notice when she turned the
Corner away from my inquisitive eyes

The Author - Bright Afeikhe - is a prolific  writer/poet and a dedicated guess-blogger at English Writing House. He holds BSc (Political and Public Administration) degree of the prestigious University of Benin in 2013.

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Dear Uloma: Poem by Chidinma Ahika

The Poet: Chidinma Ahika

                                                       


Let me be the magic,
That tinder startling from your alluring eyes

Let me be the lullaby
That melts the fears you foster

Let me be the dawn
That withers your inner nightmares

Let me be the tick-tock
That freezes in constancy for our paradise

Let me be the moisture
That gives you the heat you desire

Let me be the hinges
That dangle you to and fro

Let me be the mountain
That shields the harsh clemency

Let me be the hawk
Against the reptilian evenings

Let me be the Superman
In your steamy story

Let me pillow the sadness
That fractures your dainty outline

Let me curve the trajectory
That ends your thorny quandary

Let my letters
Sweeten your world as congregation of colours
My dear Uloma

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2face Could Have Been A Future Contender Of A Nobel Prize If

In 1913, Bengali Polymath, Rabindranath Tagore was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, ‘because of his profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verse, by which, with consummate skill, he has made his poetic thought, expressed in his own English words, a part of the literature of the West’. Tagore was a songwriter whose unique poetic overtone hitherto defines Indian and Bengali musical arts. With over a century gap between, the American Songwriter Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016 ‘for having created new poetic expressions within the great American Song.’

The above facts have been stated quite clearly to show those who may laugh off the title of this article that Songwriters, like novelists, playwrights and poets, still have a stake in the most distinguish literary prize.

Nigeria's 2face Idibia

Nigeria’s 2face is a Songwriter and an award-winning singer, whose songs (especially ‘African Queen’) have earned him the trademark as Nigeria’s finest artist. His songs – since the beginning of the last decade – have continued to revolutionize Africa’s singing culture.

But recently, he could have added another glory to his crown – by being a future contender of a Nobel Prize either in peace or in literature – if he had carried on with his planned protest of showcasing to the world the hardship this dispensation chaired by Buhari has melted on Nigerians across the social strata.

2face’s protest had become necessary. It came up at that time the downtrodden were yawning for an intervention to address the hike of the prices of market commodities which stood above hundred percent. This protest, if it was not aborted, could have exposed our sufferings to the world and then channelled 2face to the highest international recognition which could have earned him a spot in the Nobel Prize constellation.

But amid threats and counter-threats, the protest was cancelled, and I do not blame 2face for his action. At least, he deserves accolade for taking the bold steps to announce a protest. For me, he has already shown his disapproval. With the secret threats he received and open intimidations he received from the government and even compatriots, it was enough to put an end to an already publicized protest. Yet, I must say here that if he should have continued with the protest, he may have earned the respect of the Swedish Academy or the Norwegians.

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Why I Love You: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

I do not love you
because I long to cast
a life-long smile
upon your flashy cheeks,

or caress your darling sheen
while your awesome lips
cave into mine
like two rainbows embracing,

rather do I adore you
because of your comeliness;
for when the dry comes,
the verdant field loses
Its greenness and beauty
to the acrid dust

I love you because I must;
because like my breath,
without your tender touch
like the dew of dawn, 

or your mellifluous whispering,
or your ageless kisses,
I would be lifeless –
long gone into the abyss.

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