10-10-10------ A birthday Poem. (for celebrants)

Ten-Ten-Ten,
Triple Ten.
Tenth day, of the
Tenth month, of the
Tenth year, of the
The new millennium.
Ten fast years since gone.

On a scale of Ten,
The perfect score.
For competitive sports,
for best performance.
For grading pain on a scale,
for worst pain.
Gauging contentment,
for most content.
For scoring tests,
Ten for flying colors.

The perfect ten, hard to grab,
but nonetheless,can be
attained through great strain.
Pushing self to the limit
in sports, or facing great pain
in sickness or injury.
Burning the midnight oil,
To grab that great spoil---
The perfect score of Ten.

Ten-Ten-Ten
Triple ten
Like a triple crown,
Sits on heads today,
Birthdays, Anniversaries,
Regular,everything day.

Triple numbers come and go,
But ten-ten-ten, no ordinary set,
will soon be on the go.
Wear it like a crown, so brief you bet,
But a triple crown of a lifetime,
Nevertheless.
I wear mine, for a special day,
to be remembered forever.


Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
10/10/2010.
Pictures by Chinwe Enemchukwu

Chains-----

chains--------

A link of sordid, violent events,
Held together by hooks of pain
forming a formidable, unbroken force,
Like thick wire chains,
Clanking,dangling,and then firmly affixed.
Restraining,shackling,by its weight,
The people.
Encircling,holding back,
Binding firmly,and condemning
human souls to perpetual pain.

Chains.
Victims are carried away,
Like linked animals from neck to neck,
Stacked together, all shackled.
To shuffle along ingloriously,like
Beasts of burden, muffled with bits,
like the days of real sorrow,
Stowed like ants in a furrow
in the belly of cars to hidden joints.
Then kept in dangerous dwellings in the forest,
To sweat and worry countless hours,or
Long days,or even weeks in the fortress,
Like caged animals,tamed;
To lift another to incredible wealth
From ransom cash.

Chains.
Connected links,indissoluble,stuck.
Holding a people in bondage;
Shackled by poverty,decadence and greed,
Crime,senseless crime, explodes in rage,
Creating---human----

Chains

Links,secured by wickedness in high places,
leaving a trail on the rough terrain,with
Linked souls dragging in the dust,
Unleashing despair and pain.

A caravan,driven by pettiness,
and greed for power and gain.
Surrounded by buffoonery,
Urged on by a symphony
Of players of different tunes,
Blending in mournful harmony
like howling jackals hungry for meat---

Power, position,control and wealth.

Chains.
The hired criminals abound,petty criminals too,
descending daily on their victims
Like viciuos bees, hungry for nectar,
Oozing from tree hollows in links;
Like chains,tumbling out of storage bins.
They fall on their prey,now
to the hard terrain pinned.
Chains----

Politics, power, money,jobless youth mix,
to hold and shackle Nigerians,
Like chains.



Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida
September 29th 2010

CUP--- CARRIED UP PROMPTLY

CUP.
Carried up promptly.
A stretch of the abbreviation,
CUP.
Carried up promptly
Nimbly.
By the able hands of Destiny
Bestowed by the Almighty.
Carried up promptly,
Nimbly.
And ever so gently
Ere the culprits separated, stealthily
From the unsightly strategy
To rub out a God given destiny
From God's child,
In a dungeon so craftily
Set up with a trapped destiny,
Resigned, clueless.
Traps and tags,unknown to the trapped,
Then carefully connected to cap
God's given destiny, and to sap
The rich enchanting quality
Filling the cup, the divine cup
Of God's bounty, running over.
CUP.
Carried up promptly,
Nimbly.
God's child is aloft, soaring,
Smoothly.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
Copyright 08/05 2010.

 

Above, a simple evening outfit is transformed by a headgear, modelled,
courtesy of the craftswoman. The outfit immediately acquired an African,
specifically Nigerian flair to it.


Headgear or headtie are the English names;
Ichafu,Gele in Nigerian tongues;
Whichever you call it,
It is still that piece Nigerian women
Adorn themselves with,along with
the traditional attire, usually
well coordinated to match and
make a resounding fashion statement.

Firmly perched on the head, this piece
completes any outfit,lifting an ordinary
outfit out of the dungeons to outstanding.
Transforming a good outfit to new heights
in the fantastic mode.
It is not a hat, fits like a hat, but
definitely not a hat.
A hat retains the same shape for its
life time, stored in a box for safety.
The headgear is adaptable, can change
like a chameleon, though not in color,
in style,to match any outfit.
Trust the able hands of craftswomen and lately
men,to fold,bend and pin the mostly stiff
fabric, into various forms and styles to top
a wide range of fashion styles.

Gele can now top off jeans outfits, an
evening gown, Asoke, Lace, Akwete, Ankara and
various traditional fabrics and tailoring styles.
Ichafu is now worn by both young and old.
Used to be the trademark of madams, married
women and adult women.
But no more.
Teenagers, young brides and their ladies in waiting,
file out in traditional outfits topped with gorgeous
headgear to match their glowing young faces.
Ichafu is in for all.
The bigger and brighter, the better.

Showing off the incredible talent of Nigerians,
Male and female, young and old.
Nigerians make fashion statements galore;
Really hard to ignore, noticed and admired
By many eyes beholding them.
But that's about it.

The rush of over twenty years ago, by Africans
outside Africa,
To wear African, really Nigerian attire quietly died off.
The Mandela's visit and outing
decked in gorgeous African gear,
sparked an appreciation of such
and a strong demand. It lasted for a while.

What actually killed it,nobody knows.
The cumbersome nature of such outfits?
Could it be the same creativity Nigerians are known for?
Flooding the world with fraudulent mail and
activities, leaving a bad taste in the mouth of many,
thereby killing Nigeria's reputation and everything Nigerian?
Flooring each other every chance Nigerians get?
Fleeing their homeland in large numbers no matter
the risk?
Being viewed as jokers?
Since they are the happiest people on earth,despite
the hellish atmosphere in the homeland?

Re-branding Nigeria may take off with gusto
tapping into the creativity of Nigerians.
With the right environment,atmosphere,
infrastructure and mindset,
The incredible talent of Nigerians can be
garnished, put together and put out to
give Nigerians jobs, pride and a new headgear.
The world will catch on one more time.
Undoubtedly.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida
Copyright: 7/17/2010

The Hunt

Pouncing like a cornered tigress
which just saw a chance,
The feline of Asian forests
Endangered
Tawny coat,stripes and all.
Tired of being hunted
by ruthless hunters for
her coat,cubs and all.
Total annihilation on their mind.
As in extermination, eradication,
As in obliteration, complete destruction,
of the tawny feline and her line.

They push unrelenting on her trail
Trekked years with young by her tail
Hanging for dear life without fail.
The hunters lunging as with swords
A menacingly brutal throng
On the tigress and her young,
One last swoop, the kill is made
Or so they thought.
Till the hunter became the hunt
Bloodied by the tawny gentle striped beast.
The throng scattered around
Befuddled.


Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na orlando, Florida
Copyright June 26 2010

DIASPORANS

Sizzling like whistling kettles
Running out of steam,
Despite the heightened heat
from the stoked fire beneath.
Fire stoked daily by bad winds
Hurling from the homeland.
Deadly winds, brutal as the harmattan
Fanning the fire and scorching the skin
of diasporans already double stretched thin.

The whistle, now a mournful whine
Emitting from once courageous souls
Weary from encompassing hopelessness,
Warding off hardship in the host land,
Terrified by surrounding wickedness.
Saddened by frequent untimely passing.
Plain finding it ever harder to stand
The whirlwind life of foreign lands.

Still they struggle to increase the pace,
Trying much harder to transform the race,
Straining daily to get it in stride,
And by so doing,surely control the tide,
And with that success,make it to shore,
From all indications, having tried for sure.

They beat themselves to messy pulp
Taking more than possible in a gulp.
They whistle and sizzle wildly, blowing
Twirling steam in an urgent puff,
Scorching white puff, nothing more.
Like whistling kettles working ever so hard
To give more steam, scorching steam, words
Useless for the problem on hand
But ever so harmful nonetheless.


Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
Copyright © June 19 2010

SILENCE AND GOLD

Silence is linked with Gold
As in the American proverb--
"Silence is golden, speech is silver"
A very wise proverb indeed,
stressing the precious value of gold.

But never has silence been so
directly linked with Gold, or to the hunt of it,
As in the villages of Zamfara State,
where the rush for the precious metal
In an abandoned open mine,
Has dealt hard blows to the mettle
Of many in Zamfara and the world.

Silence, deafening silence, no longer golden
to the ears of villagers who now
live with silence, day after day,
night after night.
Silence in place of childish chatter
and laughter, and play, and loving, all
no longer possible.
Utter silence.

Children led away by death, holding
hands with Lead, from the mine of Gold.
Leaving behind, silence, no longer Golden.

Nwada Chinwe Enemchukwu,
Onye ụwa ọma
na Orlando, FLorida.
Copyright © June 8 2010.

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST.

An elderly gentleman lives with his son and family next door to me. Next door neighbors they are for sure but it is not like in apartment or townhouse buildings or subdivisions where you can touch the next house.
I still have to get in the car, drive down the dirt driveway to the country highway, wait for traffic, sometimes cars speeding like there is no tomorrow, make a right turn to their house.

Like the day I had to return his injured pigeon which I had rescued from a kite. I had it wrapped in an old jacket and placed it on my lap as I drove. It was late in the evening and was almost dark.
I rang the doorbell and after what seemed like forever, I had some noises and he opened the door. It was in the wintertime and one of the few spells of cold weather in Florida. That was part of why I had the pigeon wrapped up in the jacket, plus my fear that he would get more injured if I left him loose. Already shaken up from the attack, he was flapping wildly after
I rescued him. I took a close look at his wound which was not very big, but was deep and bruised. With such a puncture wound, I wasn't sure if the pigeon would make it.
I apologized to my neighbor for disturbing them and he said it was alright as he was just relaxing. I handed him the bundle in the jacket and explained that I had witnessed the attack on one of his pigeons and had rescued it. His eyes opened in surprise and he gently took the jacket,unwrapped it and gently lifted the pigeon out and examined his wound. He looked up thanking me " He'll make it" he said nodding his head in the affirmative."Thank yo so much, poor fellow, he sure took a beating, but he'll be just fine. I'll go dress his wound and
and let him rest and start recuperating. Thanks a bunch" He took the pigeon inside and I left.
As I got in my car to drive next door, I had many thoughts go through my mind. First and foremost, did I have any right to snatch an evening meal from that hungry kite? If the pigeon dies, what was all my heroic effort for, and how many times do we get rescued from the evil one who is constantly looking for someone who he may devour? I never inquired of the pigeon again probably for fear of getting a negative answer. Since then once in a while, I would come home to see feathers or remains of a killed pigeon in the yard and I would think to myself, there goes one which didn't get away or get rescued.

My neighbor raises homing pigeons for a hobby. His pigeons, several dozen of them live in two large pigeon houses facing my property, facing west, the setting sun. Everyday, like clockwork, these birds do their routine, flying in patterns like jets moving in synchronized flights and they would do patterns, over and over before going back into their houses. He stands and watches as they practice, sometimes blowing a whistle or waving a flag at them.

He came over one day and said he wanted to know if it's alright for his pigeons to sit on my roof as they trained and I said it w as fine with me. I sometimes stand to watch the free performance for a while and the pigeons seem to notice and put up a show for me, sometimes swooping down so close to me. I had observed that these pigeons take a lot of training to get good to perform at functions like weddings, funerals and other civic functions. They put in their show and then can fly many miles home without getting lost.Watching them train is very interesting. When he opens the door to the pigeon house and they start flying out in rows and then make their flying formation and then do their routines, over and over until he blows his whistle and they come back.Sometimes they would go back and try to enter and by waving the brightly colored flag, which signifies not yet, sends them up again, air bound and to do more routines. Sometimes one or two would break off and fly on their own, only yo hurry back and join the formation again.

The first time I saw an injured pigeon, my neighbor had come over and the doorbell sent me to the door. He was asking for permission to pick up his injured pigeon on my side of the fence. He had the pigeon in his hand and explained that it was attacked by a kite. I assured him that it was alright to come over and rescue his pigeons on my side anytime. Not too long after that I witnessed the attack myself. taking the trash bins to the highway, I noticed the birds were making their patterned flights overhead and I stopped to watch for a few minutes. Suddenly, one of them seemed to fall out of the sky and hit the grass with a thud. I looked and there on the grass lay a pigeon with another bird on top of it, taking quick jabs at its chest. I remembered my neighbor asking for permission to rescue his bird not too long ago. I left the trash bins and ran over there as the kite reluctantly left the pigeon and flew off. The pigeon was so frightened and traumatized that it just kept flapping and trying to stand. I picked it up and after flapping a few more times, it stopped but I could feel the trembling of his entire body. I examined the wound and found out that the kite was heading for the heart with his sharp beak. The wound looked deep and bloody as I wrapped the pigeon and took him over to the owner for treatment. From examining unlucky pigeons found dead and half eaten, I realized that the predators go for the heart and other vital organs which they eat and then leave the bulk of the bird untouched.
I still get to watch the free shows put out by the pigeons every once in a while. The skies of my yard offer them good training grounds and I don't mind it one bit. Sometimes some of them settle on the roof and the dog does not pay them any attention anymore. Even the whistle call for their training and the big brightly painted circle marking the entrance to their cage are part of life now, not noticed anymore. I have not seen a left over bird on my grass lately and I don't know if the pigeons got smarter or the kites got tired, moved somewhere else, or attacks them elsewhere.
Whatever it is I am glad because seeing those carcasses used to sadden me reminding me of the human who struggle through life, dodging deadly attacks from the enemy, attacks
on their bodies and souls and every once in a while, another would bite the dust. The sad part is when the soul bites the dust as well. Sad indeed.
Enjoy this special from none other than precious Jim Reeves again reminding us to heed the call which will keep our souls from biting the dust when we do bite the dust. " Softly and tenderly----
Click on link and enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxQq5gxI33A

Enjoy and have a great weekend.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida

Jim Reeves-------- Nostalgia

Last week, my climbing roses were at the peak of their blooming, with clusters
dark red roses cascading over the climbers they were on. Just looking at and smelling them gave great satisfaction and distraction and what struck me about it is how slowly came up
as buds, then opened up in groups and then a blast of colour at various stages. For almost two weeks, the pair presented a wonderful spectacle and each time I had a minute to look at them or pick some, I wondered about life and the fleeting nature of it.
This week, the blooms are no more, just shrivelled and drying remnants of them, which
must be trimmed off with the branches holding them to make room for the new shoots.
On two occasions, I cut some and took them to work knowing that the blooms would only last a few days.
Life becomes such a hassle that sometimes we forget to give ourselves a little break and
enjoy the very ordinary things God put in place for us, before we made our own gadgets
which actually present more problems for our lives. Thank God for all His creation which
surround us , to bless and encourage us.
The roses have faded today, but the other plants, flowers, onugbu and arimu/ahimu/nchu-anwu, spearmint, and other, are happy and exploding with growth again, with the weeds and grass in tough competition to outdo them. There is never a dull moment out there, in God's nature.
In the evening, it is the red-headed woodpecker who arrive around 5:30 pm to do his/her rap on the tall utility pole across the street---kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo- in a fast steady pecking, then a pause to pick up the carpenter ants. After watching the pecker do the job from a distance, I, one day used a bird watchers binoculars I had found at a thrift shop, adjusting it until it brought the bird so close that I could see what he was doing very well. Concentrating and working very hard, rapping on the pole with the hard beak, quick jabs, then harvest. He had no clue somebody was watching him at work, as he stops to look around to make sure he was safe. Now whenever I am home and I hear the rapping,I watch the pecker for a few minutes and many thoughts go through my mind. How God watches us when we go about our business, doing our thing, watching others or making it look like we are watching them and spreading our report, running around like little robots dizzy with activity and God follows with His ever-seeing eyes. How much we must amuse Him.
That pecker never knows how closely he gets watched sometimes and how easily he can be
aimed at. We rush and stumble through life daily forgetting how close to the edge we get. Only the hands and presence of the Almighty keep us from day to day. May His name be praised.
Enjoy this song from one of the greatest in childhood days with hits like -----My Cathedral, Dark Moon and many others, but this is the best for today------ enjoy it and have a blessed day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rKIcYgSf8Y

Last week, my climbing roses were at the peak of their blooming, with clusters
dark red roses cascading over the climbers they were on. Just looking at and smelling them gave great satisfaction and distraction and what struck me about it is how slowly came up
as buds, then opened up in groups and then a blast of colour at various stages. For almost two weeks, the pair presented a wonderful spectacle and each time I had a minute to look at them or pick some, I wondered about life and the fleeting nature of it.
This week, the blooms are no more, just shrivelled and drying remnants of them, which
must be trimmed off with the branches holding them to make room for the new shoots.
On two occasions, I cut some and took them to work knowing that the blooms would only last a few days.
Life becomes such a hassle that sometimes we forget to give ourselves a little break and
enjoy the very ordinary things God put in place for us, before we made our own gadgets
which actually present more problems for our lives. Thank God for all His creation which
surround us , to bless and encourage us.
The roses have faded today, but the other plants, flowers, onugbu and arimu/ahimu/nchu-anwu, spearmint, and other, are happy and exploding with growth again, with the weeds and grass in tough competition to outdo them. There is never a dull moment out there, in God's nature.
In the evening, it is the red-headed woodpecker who arrive around 5:30 pm to do his/her rap on the tall utility pole across the street---kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo-kpo- in a fast steady pecking, then a pause to pick up the carpenter ants. After watching the pecker do the job from a distance, I, one day used a bird watchers binoculars I had found at a thrift shop, adjusting it until it brought the bird so close that I could see what he was doing very well. Concentrating and working very hard, rapping on the pole with the hard beak, quick jabs, then harvest. He had no clue somebody was watching him at work, as he stops to look around to make sure he was safe. Now whenever I am home and I hear the rapping,I watch the pecker for a few minutes and many thoughts go through my mind. How God watches us when we go about our business, doing our thing, watching others or making it look like we are watching them and spreading our report, running around like little robots dizzy with activity and God follows with His ever-seeing eyes. How much we must amuse Him.
That pecker never knows how closely he gets watched sometimes and how easily he can be
aimed at. We rush and stumble through life daily forgetting how close to the edge we get. Only the hands and presence of the Almighty keep us from day to day. May His name be praised.
Enjoy this song from one of the greatest in childhood days with hits like -----My Cathedral, Dark Moon and many others, but this is the best for today------ enjoy it and have a blessed day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rKIcYgSf8Y

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida

Shooting Stars

Just like morning stars,
Passing with the rising sun
The young souls took flight
Like fiery shooting stars
ahead of the rising sun.

Lighting up the morning skies
Like fireworks without warning,
Onto the unsuspecting Jos skies.
Fireworks of souls, visible only
to the angels sent to escort them
home, after their brief sojourn
In a wicked, wicked world;
Which turns babies, little angels
sent to be her light, into venting bags
for her wicked fury of untamed hate.

Hate,spilling over in the wee hours of that
fateful day in a sleeping Jos village.

Machetes, swords, knives, daggers,
flashing, in the wee hours, startling,
cutting,slashing, maiming, beheading,
disemboweling and wasting
babies, little angels, and their
mothers as they slept.

Swift, painful deaths and quick
exits, souls zipping like shooting stars
into the great beyond;
Like fireworks exploding into the arms
of angels taking them back to their
maker.
By sunrise when the morning stars
had gone, the world discovers-
dead babies, little angels, and their
earthly guardian angels littered
everywhere, gruesome carnage here;
But now peacefully looking down from there,
on a wicked desperate world.

Alleluia.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida
Copyright © May 2010

Freedom, God's Way. Who the Lord sets free is free indeed.

God is an Awesome God,
A loving God
Who gives his children
What is good for them.
He will not give a scorpion
to a child who asked for bread.
Neither will he let his child cry
for ever before he sends help.

Asthma is one of the worst diseases in the world
leaving a sufferer gasping for breath
Like a fish out of water.
Treatments offer temporary relief
and some treatments help prevent
attacks from coming at all.
Still attacks happen
and God's child is left
gasping like a trout
pulled from the lake, lying
on the boat deck.
Death follows soon for the trout.
Unless thrown back in the water.

When in life people find themselves
caught in a murky waters with a
fishing net of life
which throw them constantly
on the boat deck, gasping for breath
and with crying out, they find help
or struggle into water again and
get a span of life, sometimes very short,
only to be on the boat deck all over again.

All their life dreams are shattered, like finishing
their education, finishing what was started,
like pursuing their hobbies, like being themselves
around family and friends and strangers.
But no!! That cannot happen.
Beacuse wings will pop up on the back,
Wisdom will overtake. They will outshine
the investors.No! No!! No!!!
Subdue by all means. Sit on the chest.
No air. Sit tight. Don't budge.
Until suffocation. Or live like a
fish on the boat deck flapping for air.

A cry out to God for some air.
He comes through as promised
and grants freedom.
Pheeeewwwwwww !!!
Thank you God, I can breathe.
Oh God, I can breathe.
Thank God Almighty, I can breathe.
A deep breath and then off to work.
For years, eyes on the plough working
and God stands by, guiding, shielding,
helping, being a leaning post and finally
Finished, almost finished and a deep
breath---- pheeewwwww!!!

All those things left on the back burner
where are you?
Hobbies, unfinished courses, goals,
dreams, where are you.
Life at last.
No!!
How dare you? Who are you?
You filthy being, how dare you ?
Get back in the fish pond
Get back in the pond, where you belong.
Filthy, worthless you, get back in there
or else.
Nothing has changed in the pond.
The same stifling, murky waters.
Nothing has chaged, even worse now.
It is surrounded by droves of fishermen
helping to goad the fish into the murky
waters.
No!!
No!!!
Nooooooo !!!
Call this fish what you want to
Paint this fish any colour
Plant this fish in any setting
No problem.
No!
No!!
No!!!
Even Rahab was used of God.
To God be the Glory.
All knowing God, you are in control
You can do all things.
You can clean fish ponds.
You worked with fish all your stay
on earth.
Everything is possible with You
You love everybody, everything You
created, no matter their condition.
In pairs or solo.
That's why You are God.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando,Florida

reflecting on the life of a fish out of water----- Stifling.

Celebrating Us this Black History Month.

> Dressed in Igbo attire for an Ibiriachi (Madam), with natural untreated hair, braided in pig's tail braids. This hair-do cannot be worn to the office of course, but goes very well with traditional attire and headgear. Relaxed natural and coiled hair, which involves chemical treatments and rollers, or long braided hair with synthetic or natural attachments, or wigs made from synthetic fiber or natural hair offer choices for hairstyles to the office. Low cut natural hair, while

convenient is also not very easy to maintain. Black hair and the care of it remains a problem which is also a multi billion dollar industry taking money from the black community and not bringing much

into it.

February is Black History Month in the United States. With the tight economy, not much is happening this year for Black History Month despite the fact that for the first time in the history of the United States, a black man is in the White House as the President of The United States of America.

Black people across the globe continue to struggle with several issues. The recent devastating earthquake in Haiti thrust the bleakness of the lives of black people to the awareness of the whole world once again. With it came the numerous reasons behind the tragedy of the nation of Haiti, the first black independent nation in the world. Destined by design to fail from the beginning, Haiti has continued to struggle until this total collapse which will make room for a rebuilding.

Haiti is not alone. Many black nations continue to struggle, even when blessed with immense wealth. Nigeria is a good example. Blessed with crude oil which generates billions of dollars annually, Nigerians continue to live in abject poverty and squalor. After almost fifty years of independence, Nigeria is yet to get her footing right. Taking a close look at the foundations, the same kind of manipulations seen in the case of Haiti are evident again, deliberate flaws in the foundations to guarantee failure. Nigeria continues to struggle to gain her footing and stand as a nation. The problems facing her are numerous and difficult. To cut across these problems and build a formidable nation, Nigerians,need to make some personal changes individually.

Most of the problems we have as Black people come from the fact that we do not appreciate ourselves how much more each other. We do not appreciate ourselves as God's creation which results in our trying to be who we are not, the other person. Trying to be who we are not results in a myriad of problems which sprout negative feelings like hate, jealousy, senseless competition, strife and all the accompanying ills. We never trust each other.

I know that what will come to mind for some when they read trying to be who we are not, is the hair, the wigs, attachments and braids black women wear. There was a drawn out discussion on one of our forums on the subject. The conclusion drawn at the end, in my opinion was that black women wear braids from artificial and natural sources or even wigs because the African hair is very difficult, if not impossible to manage. To have African hair in the form and shape acceptable in a place of employment, these aids become necessities. The African hair perfectly fits with the reality of the African environment, so it is not in any way inferior to other hair.

By appreciating ourselves, I mean our inner selves and our numerous blessings collectively and as individuals.

After watching two video clips on Africa posted by a sister on the forum yesterday, I was moved by the beauty of Africa, which we as a people have not noticed or cherished, how much more promoted.

To get to that level of cherishing our homelands and continent, we must cherish our individual selves first. I guess the reason I was that moved by the video is because I have been thinking about Africa especially the Igbo lately during this black history month. Twice this month I wore ethnic clothing and jewelery to work, a long authentic kente skirt with a matching one color top, a Nigerian fabric outfit, with cowrie beads and earrings, small Nigerian leather bracelets and each time it made people around me remember that this is Black History Month and light conversation on Africa, the Nigerian movies and other positive conversations followed.

We have so much in us as individuals and as a people and we have allowed the gifts and talents lie dormant while we engage in useless strife cutting each other down for various reasons be it political, religious or ethnic/tribal. Nigerians are only remembered for fraud and recently terrorism. Numerous contributions by Nigerians are deliberately overlooked and downplayed.

Many of us failed to transfer our languages to our children, a very grievous offence indeed which has deprived our children of a very important asset. It has been heart warming to read some of the attempts to communicate in the various Nigerian languages on some of the forums. It is a good sign. A sign of good things to come. We need to celebrate who we are, who God created us to be, and appreciate each other, even with our differences, and project that appreciation to the world. Only then will they respect us. Thanks for reading.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu

Onye Uwa Oma

na Orlando, Florida.

Deja Vu.-------Put it to good use. July 2007

Today the Supreme court of Nigeria did the right thing again just like the honorable men they are, the judges did not succumb to pressure or money and reverse their judgment. There was absolutely no merit to the appeal brought to them by Mr Andy Ubah. It was surprising that the some people actually lost sleep over the possibility of Andy Ubah winning this case. No amount of money and Otumokpo or whatever else people use to swing things their way could have worked in this case. Even if the judges received handsome sums of money and other expensive presents as was claimed by some, they were under no obligation to deliver the case to the generous and affluent Santa Claus wannabe. If I were in their shoes, I would take the presents as long as I did not solicit for them and still deliver the interpretation of the law without giving a thought to the generous gift.

The Supreme Court of Nigeria was voted "Man of the Year" for 2007 and today's deja vu confirms that these judges are real Men of Honor. The Judiciary has become the beacon of light which will lead Nigerians out of the dungeon of oppression and corruption where greedy military and ex-military renegades held them hostage for decades.

During these years every area of Nigeria's development became stagnant and actually became wiped out. Our Universities fell off the international radar. Our hospitals
became comatose and died while poverty and disease took a stranglehold on the average Nigerian while a few lived and continue to live like kings in the midst of the suffering and premature dying from disease and crime.

If Andy really wants to rise from this second fall, there are many ways he can brush
off the dust and rise and bring himself even higher that the position of governor which he wants so much. Ndi Igbo n'asi na Agadi nwanyi da nda ada n'bu, oguo ife O bu n'ukpa onu.
This second fall calls for reflection and reckoning. Political power is not the key to success in life. Many successful people do not even engage in politics and public life. They actually shy away from the limelight of political power. They put their names in the history books with their service to humanity. Their works of charity and compassionate giving leave indelible marks in the memories of their people. Some of these great men and women live their entire lives as "servants" improving the lots of the less privileged and providing services which otherwise would not be available to many.

Possibilities abound for Andy Ubah to pick up his ukpa and count the contents before proceeding to rise and shine for Ndi Igbo by using his enormous wealth to improve the lives of the masses in Anambra State and other parts of the Igboland .
There is a medical emergency in Anambra State as we speak. People are dying and dying very young and many people walking around are simply walking dead bodies waiting to fall anytime, anywhere. When people in their thirties and forties, very many people walking around with systolic blood pressure registering over 200 and the diastolic in the mid one hundreds, sometimes coupled with high blood sugar sometimes in the three and four hundreds and these people are totally oblivious of their situation and have big plans and projects they are pursuing. Some will assure you that the vital signs had actually improved from what they used to be.
Many factors contribute to this emergency situation. Ignorance,stressful living conditions, bad eating habits, hardship and useless pursuits are some of the factors involved in this tragedy.
Andy can champion a massive public health awareness campaign with his private jet distributing fliers to his people, teaching people how to take care of their health. He can give out free monitoring equipment for his people to check their blood pressure and blood sugar. He can improve the hospitals and equip them. He can help the health care providers stay on top of things by providing them with computers which will keep them connected to up -to- date information. Andy can rebuild the surgical theaters (operating rooms) which look like butcher joints.
Nutritious food, vitamins, milk and formula for babies and young children and quality pre and post natal care for pregnant women and nursing mothers will make him an overnight hero. Many baby boys will be named Nnamdi (Andy), making the name popular again.
There are so many ways Andy Ubah can "serve" his people and engrave his name in their hearts. No governor will be greater than Andy Ubah, the Philanthropist..

Let this Deja Vu be put to good use.

Chinwe Enemchukwu
Orlando, Florida

Friday, SEPTEMBER 12, 2008BETTY, CATCH AM.Air Raid Betty------Continued.


Betty did her job as Air Raid Marshall with class. She always felt great when the crisis was over. We took her vigilance and dedication for granted at the time but looking back now, I realize how Betty gave us ample time to hide and take cover before the jets came on their killing and maiming spree. How much that helped, I will never know, but from what I have learned from watching deputy sheriffs chase criminals by air in rural Lake County Florida where I live, those bomber and fighter jets had bird's eye views of the ground as they came down so low. They must have seen their targets scurrying around trying to hide.
We always were able to hide before the planes came within view. When the air raids were over, Betty was usually her happy self again.

Betty enjoyed other odd jobs around the house. She was very energetic and did everything with gusto.
She was a farm hand too.The goats, sheep, chickens, sometimes got in trouble with Betty. Then, there were the wild life who always turned up to help themselves to the crops and livestock, especially the fowls, in the backyard outside the compound. Hawks and other predatory birds were sometimes bold enough to swoop down to grab chicks inside the compound. Betty would dash out barking as the hen screamed at the hawk in protest.
Betty soon mastered how to keep everybody in line. Face offs with wild critters in the backyard were always brought to our attention by Betty's wild barking from the backyard.

Our home stead was on the outskirts of a dry virgin scrubland covered with saw grass (ata), which were so sharp they slashed whatever came in contact with the blade-like leaves. There wereChaleku/icheku tress which made delicious fruit snacks, andaraba/ahaba, which had stems which were were popular as support for yam crops. These were called alulu. In these bushes lived a wide variety of wild life. Patridges (Okwa), large rodents like (Nchi), and smaller (Ogini and Nkakwu) were abundant back there. So also were snakes, venomous and non-venomous. Betty loved to chase whatever showed up too close to the back gate. We always worried about Betty being bitten by a venomous snake back there. Years later, Betty died from a snake bite when she was much older and probably couldn't get out of the way fast enough as a snake lounged at her.

The domesticated animals learned two words of pigin English from their experience with Betty. "Catch-Am" which means Catch him, Catch her or Catch it was understood by humans and animals alike. When that command was yelled, things happened and happened quickly, too quickly to an unsuspecting observer who had never witnessed it before.
If some of the goats or sheep broke out and were attacking the crops, and they heard the command, they would stop in their tracks, do a double take,and bolt off back to their pens. If the gate was closed, they would break in from where they broke out in the first place. Even the chickens understoood the command. They would get excited and clack loudly and then run and fly at the same time to get away. To these animals, Catch-Am meant a black and white dog, chasing them, barking excitedly. Betty really enjoyed giving the chase and would sometimes leap in the air to bring down a rooster or hen as they tried to get briefly airborne to get away.

Betty would equally grab a goat or sheeep by the hind legs to bring them down following a furious chase. The animal would be panting and crying out with fear as Betty held them down.That was all Betty did though, she would hold the animal down, wagging her tail and breathless, until the animal was retrieved from her. She was usually very proud of the catch.

Sometimes when the command was yelled, Betty might be asleep in the house and would not have heard it. If Betty heard the command, she would shoot out of the house like a bullet and give chase, sometimes in the wrong direction, only to suddenly make a ground scratching halt, turn around to locate whatever she was supposed to chase and catch. She would then take off after it barking. The chase and catch game were routine entertainment.

Betty would stop an unknown visitor in their tracks with her barking and then run around in circles waiting for the command. No humans were ever chased although Betty would bare her teeth and raise the hair on her back and tail, if an unfriendly looking visitor showed up or if a family member seemed to be challenged by a person unknown to the dog. At times like that, Betty really had to be restrained or taken inside to calm down.

It was a different ball game with wild life which had their encounters in the back yard with Betty who would slip back there through the hole in the compound wall made for the chickens to come and go. Betty's adventures in the backyard were different. She knew she was not supposed to be back there. The only time she would really let anybody know she was back there was when she got in trouble or faced danger. Her furious barking would draw attention and we would call for her to come in. If she refused, that meant that she had encountered something she wanted us to see.
On some occasions, Betty was back there in a face off with a snake with head puffed and raised in a striking position. Betty would back off when called. Occasionally the snake would be killed. Once, a viper was killed that way, only to watch as small baby vipers ate through her and came wiggling out. It was so overwhelming and scarry that the snake had to be set on fire to kill all the venomous critter emerging from her. I was not present but learned that those present counted about fifty baby snakes when it was over. I also learned that vipers and some other species and also scorpions hatch their eggs inside the mother which then dies as the babies eat or bite their way out of her. I have not witnessed this myself.
A cobra was once spotted on a palm tree close to the compound in the backyard, following one of Betty's furious barking in the backyard. The snake had a bright red growth on its head, similar to a rooster's crest and it made a scarry noise. My father was not home and my mother sent for a neighbor, Ezeugonna who had a double barrel gun to come and shoot the snake. I don't remember if the snake was shot or if it got away. All I recall is being petrified with fear and staying away from the backyard for a while. We used to be back there collecting chaleku, Utu,
Uni, ( sweet wild berries and fruits), and even Elo/Ero (mushrooms).

To be continued.

Talking about scorpions, there were scorpions everywhere in those days and people occassionally got stung. Betty never got stung because she always smelled them and would start barking at the spot where the scorpion was waiting with stinger up.POSTED BY ONYE UWA OMA AT 1:24 PM [Photo]LABELS: BETTY, CATCH AM.
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