It’s an occurrence that should worry anyone. Five undergraduates of a university assaulting a fellow student in the most distressing manner. They order her to kneel and go further to employ varying instruments to maul her. It’s a sight that leaves one aghast. When I saw clips of the unfortunate incident, what repeatedly came to my mind was, “Who raised these kids?” How was it possible for young people who were barely out of their teens to imagine it’s okay to pummel another student let one carry out the heinous act? The absurdity and sheer cruelty of the ambush is the stuff of stories we see on Crime & Investigation channel.
Disgust. Anger. Irritation. Indignation. These are only a few of the emotions that have greeted the BBC Eye expose on randy lecturers in Nigeria and Ghana universities. The demand for sex in exchange is a phenomenon that has become synonymous with our higher institutions of learning for decades; so much so that hip hop artiste, Eedris Abdulkareem shed light on it via a track that went on to become a hit 17 years ago. “Mr Lecturer” condemned the shenanigans of sexual predators cum lecturers in universities and polytechnics. Today, the story is not different, in fact, if feelers from undergraduates are anything to go by, then the situation has worsened considerably.
The palpable fear that has gripped the residents of Port-Harcourt is not unfounded. At the last count, no less than ten young ladies have met their sordid deaths in the hands of an unidentified killer. The pattern is as similar as it is curious: young women of a certain age range are found bereft of breath in random hotels within the city’s metropolis. Cause of death—strangulation. The unsettling story does not end there; it takes on an eerie dimension with the murdered ladies spotting a white piece of cloth tied around hand and neck. By now, one would have thought that law enforcement agencies would have some answers relating to these inexplicable murders, but that’s merely wishful thinking.
After over a decade, he roared back in the loudest decibel possible. Tiger Woods reminded us again why his name fits aptly. Finally clawing his way back from the doldrums of despair that became synonymous with his personality for such a long time; it was a remarkable feat that has had many people applauding and a few unimpressed. Those on the other side of the divide remind us of the ignominious way he fell from the heights of adoration to the depths of contempt. He wasn’t supposed to come back from the scandal and series of setbacks that have marred his career and personal life. The bookmakers were wrong. Critics are gobsmacked. This is one man who has refused to stay down and some people can’t seem to wrap their minds around it.
“I apologise for insinuating that women are incapable of making the sort of pivotal decisions that are needed in the high stakes business of nation-building.”
“I am sorry for my views on abortion and the rights of sexually assaulted women to get one if they so desire.”
“I regret the Facebook post I made 12 years ago which suggests that Nigeria isn’t ripe for a democracy and will do better under a fascist regime.”
“My thoughts on young people and their penchant for irresponsibility were formed at a time when I did not have adequate insight into the subject matter, I have since realised that young people are in fact one of the greatest assets our country has and I apologise for the negative impact my previous statement may have had on the younger citizens of our country.”
This will be many of us in the near future.
A 13-year old girl lies six feet under the ground. Dead. Lifeless. Her dreams cut short, her breath snuffed out at a time when she should have no business contemplating the possibility of being non-existent. If she died of some terminal illness or had been a victim of an accident, maybe her death would have been easier to bear…maybe. But none of that is the case. The circumstances surrounding the death of Ochanya Ogbaje is a prospect every female prays against. Many would choose the option of being felled by the bullets of night marauders rather than the victim of serial rape. That frightening possibility of bodily violation that lurks in the corners of every woman’s heart became Ochanya’s reality.
We are a woke generation. We know “What’s up”. Full of spunk and sass and in the loop happenings around us. A set of people who are never bereft of information because we are fortunate to be in our prime during this time of a digital revolution. Our smartphones and other devices are our fast companions and we pride ourselves in being a driven, forward-thinking generation who are vastly different from the older, slower generation. However, the trend of events and recent dynamic in the way we perceive developments, interpret happenings and most critically, behave, is gradually becoming a source for concern; and this development can be tied to the growing belief that nothing is really wrong. The lines between good and bad are blurring daily, and we have “wokeness” to blame for that.
The French Ambassador to the United States recently expressed his displeasure about famous comedian and host of the Daily Talk Show, Trevor Noah, arrogating the French national team’s World Cup win to Africa. The players are fully French and should not be associated with Africa in any way, was pretty much the summary of his letter to Noah. It didn’t matter that almost 70 per cent of them were Blacks whose parents or grandparents had migrated from several African countries. Apart from Noah’s brilliant response to the ambassador’s protest, the issue has once again brought up the question of identity, how it is perceived and what its implications are for an individual ora group of people.
The image above not only represents the heart-rending inferno that consumed some commuters in Lagos last week, it could also pass for the current state of the Nigerian nation. On Saturday, a young man, in an apparent demonstration of his dissatisfaction with the chaotic and saddening reality of the country, stood at the Maryland intersection holding up a signage that asked the government of the day either shape up and fix Nigeria like they were elected to do or resign. He stood there almost all day, alone and stoic in his one-man peaceful protest, braving the odds. When the pictures began to make the rounds on social media, one would have expected everyone to laud his initiative and courage, but that was not the case. Rather, some of the same youths who have been clamouring for a revolution opined he was only wasting his time and would soon tire out.
“Sorry ma,” He said as I alighted from my car while trying to imagine the extent of damage that had just been done to the passenger side of my rear panel. I had been driving towards a T junction and applied my brakes in a bid slow down to assess the traffic situation of the adjoining road before making a turn. As it’s characteristic of them, an impatient tricyclist intended to speed past me and in the process, came a little too close and inevitably collided with me.