A Relationship. --- my thoughts after enjoying a book of portraits by Yousuf Karsh.

During my book hunts, I occasionally come across volumes that catch me off guard and open doors to information I least expect to come across. Information so enlightening that I learn so much from them, and at the same time derive a lot of pleasure and satisfaction reading the book, journal or magazine. A few months ago, I found a book in a thrift shop. Initially, I bypassed it, since the title did not ring a bell and the author's name and picture were not familiar to me either. I went back, picked it up, and leafed through some of the pages. The pages hold a collection of black and white portraits, with concise biographical

data along with them. They are of excellent quality. I tried to locate the year of publication from the front cover. There is no publication date on the book. That only increased my curiosity. The name and picture of the author, I studied and drew a blank again. The picture of the middle-aged, balding man was next to his name, in big capital letters ----YOUSUF KARSH. The name seemed to be the title of the volume. Beneath the name, was the actual title: "PORTRAITS OF GREATNESS." His brief biography on the front flap proved my conclusion wrong. From the name, I had thought he was from somewhere in the Middle East, but his biography placed him in Canada and he was actually known as Yousuf Karsh of Ottawa, in the professional circle. He was an immigrant from Armenia and was a celebrated photographer of his days. An online search for Yousuf Karsh showed that he passed away in 2002 in Boston. He had quite a remarkable career in photography. Great men and women of all lifestyles and professions sat or posed before the Karsh lens, according to his biography. With that, my curiosity was stirred and I took a seat and went through the spectacular find-- a combination of graphic art, history, humor, and incredible information accompanied by excellent portraits, described as his most famous portraits, each worthy of salon display. From reading a few of the biographies, I gathered that these portraits spanned over a three-decade period covering from the mid nineteen thirties to the late fifties. I gladly paid the four dollars for the book and looked at some more portraits when I got home, and then put it away, meaning to study all of it, but forgot all about it. While packing and labeling books the other day, I came across Yousuf Karsh's collection of portraits again and have been enjoying it since. I did not realize what I had bought. It may not be a big deal to others, but to me and for me and history enthusiasts, it is a treasure. I am very excited by this find. Mr. Karsh had put the narratives in such a way that the reader feels as if the stories are in the present. With the portraits so well done and so real to life, the reader goes back in time to the period. The portraits are of the people in the news in those days; people in various areas of Arts, Science, with Literature, Music, Medicine and politics in between. Many of the names were not familiar to me and I learned about them for the first time, while some of the names were men and women I knew about from history class and other reading. Most of them were born in the last quarter of the eighteen hundreds and a few were born in the early nineteen hundreds. A few had died by the time this book was published, but the majority were still alive and very few are still alive and around today. Some of the subjects in these portraits include Marian Anderson, Dr Charles Herbert Best--- co discoverer of Insulin, Physicist Nielss Bohr, Pearl S. Buck, Ralph Johnson Bunche--- of the United Nations who did a lot of work in the Middle East. Sir Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill's portraits are there---,two portraits, one in 1941 and the other fifteen years later. The 1941 portrait was reputed to have earned Mr. Karsh world acclaim. Just looking at the picture today, one can still see the determination or defiance on Sir Churchill's face. I remember his pictures from childhood days, when he was in his late eighties and about ninety. Then there is Christian Dior, Walt Disney, a young Duke of Edinburgh, Albert Einstein, Dwight D. Eisenhower, a young Elizabeth the second, Sir Alexander Fleming who discovered Penicillin in 1922, Robert Frost-- American poet, Dag Hammarskjold--- then Secretary-General of the United Nations who died in a tragic plane crash; Ernest Hemingway in a rare portrait, a young Audrey Hepburn, His Holiness Pope John XX111, a beaming Helen Keller and her devoted friend Katharine Cornell, Andre Malraux-- two time French information minister and a war prisoner,---his predictions about China were so accurate. German novelist and essayist, Thomas Mann in a remarkable portrait, The Rt. Hon. Vincent Massey--- the first Canadian Governor General of Canada, Jawaharlal Nehru of India, Georgia O’Keeffe, a young Sir Laurence Olivier, Yukio Ozaki-- Japanese Statesman, Wilder Penfield-- renown neurologist, Pablo Picasso, His holiness Pope Pius XX11, Their Serene Highnesses Prince Rainier 111 and Princess Grace of Monaco in a beautiful 1956 portrait. Norman Rockwell in his studio, Anna Eleanor Roosevelt, Philosopher Bertrand Arthur William Russell--- a British prolific writer and Nobel Laureate; (one of his books, why I am not a christian is a book I am currently searching for. Then comes a portrait of a very simple looking Dr Jonas Edward Salk--- in his white Lab coat giving a little patient a polio vaccine. Very impressive. What a differnce his work has made for mankind. I had never heard about Brigadier General David Sarnoff, who was a pioneer in American Radio and Television and also played a major role in communications during World War 11. Albert Schweitzer--- a French Missionary-Surgeon who did a lot of charity work,especially in Africa, is another very interesting subject. George Bernard Shaw--- Irish playwright, novelist, philosopher and critic was photographed in his older years. Igor Sikorsky-- American Aircraft designer, Francis Henry Taylor, whose life revolved around art collection and appreciation, was director of major Art Museums before his death in 1957. Dr Paul Dudley White,holding his stethoscopes with both hands across his chest in the portrait, looked like the elderly rural community physician, but was actually an outstanding physician and one of the founders of the American heart Association. Tennessee Williams-- American Playwright, and Frank Lloyd Wright, great American architect, end the collection. Coming across treasures like this book does not happen regularly and whenever it happens, it is really appreciated and enjoyed to the fullest. I did not mention all the names in the volume, and the names I listed, were put out just as they were presented. There were just too many interesting men and women in the volume to mention all of them. Such book finds are usually pored over for hours and for days and then carefully put away for future enjoyment and for others to enjoy. I had wondered why Mr Karsh had the portrait of two popes in his book of portaits and no portrait of the Archbishop of Canterbury for example, or that of any well known Rabbi of those days. I must add that “ Defender of the Faith” was the last of the titles listed for Elizabeth the second. While watching the celebration of her silver jubilee a few weeks ago, and hearing her pray for forgiveness and peace for families around the world, I was really touched. I recalled the argurement and fights between school children in childhood days over church denomination. In one particular rural community where my family lived at the time, the elementary schools, ran by the Roman Catholic Mission (RCM) and the Church Missionary Society (CMS),(of the Church of England), were next to each other, separated by a fence made of palm fronds and wood. There were occasional fights between children after school, even at the stream, while fetching water. We were not allowed to fight for any reason whatsoever ,though we managed to get into fights once in a while, but never over religion. I heard earfuls of denomination bad talk and some of them worried me. I remember being told that all CMS people (non Roman catholic) were destined for hell and I worried about that a whole lot. Eventually, I asked questions and learned that it was not true. There were too many wrong beliefs in those days. Then in Sunday school the story about the camel passing through the eye of a needle was another scary one. Mankind is doomed, I thought to myself, If it will be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for one to go to heaven, then what is the fate of humans? I don't remember having the alternative explained clearly. “I am the Way, The Truth, and the Life, no one comes to the Father, but by Me”, is one of the first Jesus quotes Christians learn, but fail to connect to the camel and needle-eye analogy. All the fights over denomination in those days and even nowadays remain a total waste of time and energy. Denomination had never and will never save anybody. Being good and trying very hard to be good will not do it. Self punishment, as practiced by some religious groups to attain piety will not do it either. A believer in Jesus Christ is a Christian and follows Christianity. The denominations, and their varying beliefs and practices make up the christian church. One source I looked at, termed these beliefs and practices--- Christian-ism. Getting from believing in Jesus Christ, to accepting him as Lord and Savior, then moving beyond Christian-ism, opens the door to the journey and to a relationship with the Son of God,( who became Son of man to experience man’s ordeal),and then the prophecy concerning him was fulfilled for the salvation of mankind. It is a tedious journey, just as painful as it was for Him when he was here. A journey, which becomes possible and manageable, as one accepts his gift of grace and salvation and then focuses on Him. There are many lessons to be learned, and daily adjustments to make, in order to remain in the relationship. Denomination will not do it at all. It is all about a RELATIONSHIP! Thanks for reading. (This are only from my thoughts, not to be mistaken for anything else.

KPUM-PA: Happy Fathers Day to All

Father's day posting updated to blog. Group picture taken in 1990, during my chhildren's first visit to Nigeria, with their grandparents and me. It was Christmas day, a day of great celebration. Chen-Chem sat at Grandpa's feet. Second picture is of Grandpa, during one of his visits years later.

It has been my tradition to do a little write-up every year for Father’s Day. This year, with my schedule, it was not easy for me to sit down and put my thoughts in writing. As this Father’s Day drew close to an end, I put down what I was doing, to put out even just a few lines. My thoughts on Father’s Day this year have been mixed. This will be the first year; I am celebrating Father’s Day without my father. It has been a sobering experience. For the first time, I walked in the shoes of many others out there. It is hard to understand other people’s experiences until one goes through the same themselves. Surprisingly, I have had quite a good time, thinking about and reflecting on and sssessing the various ways, our interactions with other people, be it friends, neighbors, siblings, spouses, parents, especially fathers, affect our lives and destinies. Even when a father is not around, father figures stepping in to fill the gap, make a big difference in children’s lives, especially boys. Success stories abound, from god fathers stepping in, to grandfathers,uncles, big brothers, coaches, teachers, and others stepping in to be the father figure in a child’s life. To God is all glory for such blessings and May the Almighty bless all the father figures today in the Name of Jesus. Almost a month ago, my youngest daughter graduated from Law school. The graduation fell on Friday, creating a problem for family members who had to work that day. As I talked with her and she was reassuring me that it was alright if I did not come, I remembered an incident from years back, when she was barely one year old, a very active and fast toddler, who crawled into everything, pulling down and playing with books, magazines, dishes, pots and pans she collected from the kitchen cabinets. It was a lot of work taking care of her. As soon as she came home from the babysitter’s house, she would start her rounds, from one wrong 'toy" to another, and telling her “No” made her even more determined. In other words, she enjoyed the attention, even if it was negative. During that period, her grandfather was visiting, and he would sit by the balcony door, overlooking the parking lot of the high rise apartment building. Beyond the parking lot were a few blocks which separated the building from the very busy Huntington Avenue and Brigham circle. From the balcony, one can hear or sometimes see the hustle on one of Boston’s busiest spots. During the summer, that balcony door was always left open and grandpa loved to sit there and read. He would watch as his little grand daughter ran around and as she was pursued and called out to stop whatever she was doing or was trying to do. He would watch bemused at our frustration. He would try to defend her and remind me that I was once that way myself and he would laugh out loud upon remembering some of the things I used to do when I was that age. He would laugh in his high pitched laughing voice and then remind me of some of the very funny things I did as a toddler. He recounted how I would follow grown ups around, doing what ever they did, like a robot. If they stopped, I would stop, if they yawned, I would yawn, if they hiccupped, I would hiccup, if they said, O Chim ooo, I would say O chim ooo, and add Hi-hia, hia hia, before they got to that part. That would throw the grown up into a fit of laughter and I would join in the laughter. By the time he was done with some of the stories, everybody there would be in laughing so hard. He added that I was also always huffing and puffing like my little daughter, because we shared the same congestion problems from allergies and tended to breath through the mouth. Watching us, me or her father, chase our little daughter around trying to stop her always made her grandpa laugh and he would protest and plead with us to stop shouting at her and leave her alone. He would then watch her, move around with her, gently explaining to her what she cannot touch and why. She would look at him, as if she understood, sometimes smile and try to touch the danger again, but eventually they understood each other and she calmed down and would look at him for assurance before touching anything that are not her toys. They became good friends and confidants. As soon as she came home, she would crawl to him to be picked up and after settling down, she would slip off his lap and start exploring, crawling as fast as her knees would allow. She would look back to see if grandpa was coming. She would pull herself up and hold onto things to stand and then try to move around. Her grandpa realized that she was ready to walk and for the next week or so, they worked at it. She would hold onto his hand and he would reach down and hold her hand and patiently walk around with her as she explored. It became their routine and by now she was trying to call him by name. Her siblings called him “Grandpa” and after trying so many sounds, she started calling him “ Kpum-pa”. In those days, they spoke fluent Igbo and the double consonants were no problem at all. When Chen-Chem wanted to walk, she would crawl to grandpa, calling him “Kpum-pa, Kpum-pa” and reach out for his hand. Kpum-pa would chuckle and take her hand and walk with her. Before long, his little grand daughter got steady on her feet and moved around more comfortably holding firmly to Kpum-pa’s hand. One afternoon, while they walked, she let go of his hand and took off almost running, to her grandpa’s delight. I could hear his hearty laughter from the kitchen as he praised her and clapped for her. Her eyes with bright and she was grinning from ear to ear as I came out to see what had happened. That was how she learned to stand and walk and years later to do a lot of other things like her holding her cutlery sets, singing, proper posture and many choruses, she learnt from grand-pa. I don’t even remember when she stopped calling him “Kpum-pa”, but one thing remained, and that was a special bond between Kpum-pa and his little grand daughter Chen-chem. At the celebration of his 90th birthday and his 60th wedding anniversary, Uche led the Praise dance his grandchildren performed on his behalf and “Kpum-pa” was very appreciative, as was his nature. He appreciated how his children celebrated his life while he was hale and hearty, just like he celebrated each and every one of them in his little special way. I am sure he would have been overjoyed to watch Chen-Chem pick up her Law degree. He was not here to see that, but I am sure he would have been very amused, remembering the huffing and puffing days at 75 Saint Alphonsus Street, Back Bay Manor, where he stooped over,holding her little hand walking her around the apartment in a walking practice drill. He would have been very happy indeed. As I talked to Uche on her graduation day, I did not remind her, but I remembered and I could hear in my mind, Kpum-pa chuckle with delight upon hearing of her graduation, and the tears welled up, tears, not tears of sorrow, but tears of remembrance, remembrance of good things, happy events, great memories. With her father at her graduation, and her grandpa’s legacy in tow, I figured that all will be well. Nine months after the fact, the fact of my father’s passing, I now have more appreciation of what it feels like not to have a father and I respect all those who lost their father’s at a very young age, and those who are fatherless, even as their biological fathers are alive and well. I appreciate everyone whose father is no longer around. There is a Heavenly Father. And for those who still have fathers, please enjoy them. Reconcile with them if there is a problem. Spend time with them, pray with them. Pray for them. If they are not part of your life by their choice, look up to the Father above. He is able to fill the void. May God bless all fathers and father figures out there today and forever. And may the blessed memories of the departed fathers remain with those of us whose fathers have moved to glory. May we all strive to meet them again in the great beyond. Amen!!! A pleasant evening everyone.

GLORIOUS MAGNOLIA

The magnolia tree makes one of the most beautiful flowers. During late spring and into early summer, the magnolia trees, young and old, tall and short, put out spectacular displays of blossoms. Although they come in different colors, the white flowers are common in my neck of the woods. These gorgeous flowers look almost edible and they smell so good. A magnolia tree covered with them looks a bride with a white decorated veil on her head, or when the flowers are dispersed, looks more like a hairdo adorned with white flowers. For weeks, the blooms persist,leaving a pleasant aroma in the air. As the blooms mature and fade away, new ones come out to take their place, and before long, those fleshy, beautiful flowers change into dull brown petals which drop off,leaving green, cone-like fruits, which mature to brown fruits with red seeds. As part of my hobby of flower collecting, which by the way is a great stress buster, if one is lucky and is not allergic to pollen, and to the smell of some of the flowers. The magnolia flowers happen to have a very strong aroma, even more intense than the Gardenia. They also happen to have lots of pollen in them, making them a possible danger to anyone with pollen allergy. I was able to collect quite a few of these beautiful flowers this season, mostly from landscapers, who usually allowed me to pick as many as I wanted. Photographing them was another fun project. With a tight, busy schedule, taking a little time off on a hobby can be very relaxing and refreshing, giving the mind a break. After taking pictures of them, the flowers were then pinned up to air-dry. This took a few days and the dried flowers are simply beautiful, toasty brown,crumpled flowers with shades of light brown and gold, a memory of what was. A great reminder of life and the stories of life, both good and bad, all packed up in memories as life comes to an end and fades away,sometimes peacefully and expected, sometimes, abruptly,violently and totally unexpected,leaving sorrow and agony, in its trial, the same,no matter the age, position,status and circumstance. The various shades of the beautiful flowers,now dried and preserved, remain,just as memories remain in print as letters, notes, in pictures and portraits,in the mind,and within legacies left behind,no matter how brief or extended life was. Glorious memories, sources of succor and comfort to those left behind waiting for their turn. In the meantime,life goes on, as time waits for nobody. It just keeps ticking!!

Springtime Blooms.

I had a great show this year from my climbing red roses. Not only were they numerous,they were robust, colorful and fragrant. They were a joy to watch as they went through the seasonal cycle. At the peak of the blooming,there were roses all over the climbers and the trees close by. It was a blaze of red, making a great contrast with the white and pink azaleas on the other side of the walkway.
It was a joy beholding the splashes of color for as long as they have lasted. The azaleas wrapped up their show last week. The whites first,then the two shades of pink. They presently look as if nothing ever happened to them. The roses are getting there too, to the end of a great outing. With less than a dozen roses left on the two bushes, it is time to get the last snapshots and enjoy the few days before there will be no roses left. The blooming had been great fun as I took pictures of them at different times of day; in the morning, around high noon and at sunset. The pictures are fantastic. I am not sure which group of pictures I like best, but it is certain that taking those pictures was a source of great joy, peace, contentment, and it has been an outlet, and on two occasions a source of excitement. I was excited to chance on bees on the roses on two occasions and got good pictures of them competing. I had the good fortune of watching two bees end up in one large rose at the same time and showed their displeasure at each other, chased each other around, and then proceeded to compete. It was amusing to watch them as there were more than enough rose blooms for them to enjoy. They obviously were not aware of that fact.

Yesterday when I realized I had just a day or two of roses to go, I got more snapshots of the fragrant blooms which are taking a beating from the intense heat of the last few days. With no rain in sight, I know there may be no roses by the weekend.
It has been a beautiful bloom time, and really great while it lasted, with the various stages of blooming, the fragrance,the colors and the joy of picking them. The occasional encounters with the vicious thorns, added some drama. The lovely pictures are treasures, which are like memories-- a store of all the good feelings and sights.

Just like life in this world as the traveller goes through life, the various stages of life, the good and the bad, the joys and thorns, and then it's all over and the sweet aroma of memories are left behind,with that occasional hint of pain and suffering.

The holy week is here and is a good time to reflect on the short journey through this world. The final resting place, heaven or hell should be on the mind this season, and actually at all times. The resurrection of Jesus Christ, a fulfilled prophecy, gives believers hope. After that great event over two thousand years ago,victory over death was established once and far all. It is a free gift. Accept the free gift today and be saved. Happy Easter to all!!!

Nwada Chinwe Enemchukwu
Orlando, Florida
Pictures by Chinwe Enemchukwu.

The Chorister sings

Six months ago today,on Friday September 16th 2011, my Pa went home to be with the Lord. During his younger days,he was a choir master and was choir master at home also, teaching proper posture and breathing and singing. We would get frustrated when we didn't want to be bothered, but he would gently teach, as was his way. I guess I picked up a love for singing from him, although I lack the talent, I still love to sing. This picture was taken at the church-service marking his 90th birthday in 2002.


In this picture,
Standing tall and poised
One hand resting on the pew,
A hymnal in the other.
Proper posture,
Eyes looking ahead,
The chorister sings.

Words,from the heart,
Though off the pages in hand,
Through lips properly pursed,
For proper sound,
The chorister sings.

Words of praise
To the king of Kings,
The Lord of Lords,
Fills the air.
Praise
To the Alpha and Omega,
The everlasting father.
To whom praise
Is no stranger.
The chorister sings.

Voices rise daily
As saints sing gaily,
In worship and
In adoration.
In supplication,
Lamentation
With repentance,
Unto salvation.

The chorister,
Standing tall,
Giving his all,
All by choice,
And with great poise.
As he did during his days;
Singing, or coaching others.
To sing.

Now
To the God of his salvation,
Before whose great majesty,
With all the saints,
The chorister sings
Still.


Praise the Lord!!
Onye Uwa Oma

Nigeria on the move--- gutters and danger.

On the highways and paved roads which traverse the townships,dotted with hot spots which can be viewed as downtown areas, where shops and businesses cluster,with street merchants selling their wares by the roadside.The street merchants sell mostly food items and household needs. Intersections usually habour mini-markets and many street hawkers who sell a variety of wares. These intersections are usually congested.
It is not uncommon to drive by crowds standing around nervously, some people with arms folded across their chests,just standing, watching as accident scenes are cleared, or as victims are being removed and taken to hospitals or to the morgue. Innocent bystanders are sometimes involved in these accidents. A driver may loose control of their vehicle,or have the breaks fail,or may be overtaking (passing)another vehicle at the wrong time and place, and go plowing through everything in its way. Sometimes,vehicles or motorcycles end up in the open gutters, passengers and all.These humongous gutters are scary.
Sometimes, fires engulf the wreck, especially when fuel tankers are involved,and result in total devastation.
Witnesses and bystanders go to the rescue,helping in any way they can, handling injured people,removing the dead, and doing other heroic deeds to handle the situation. Ambulances,actually hearses, do exactly what hearses do. Ambulances which respond to emergencies are yet to start operating. If any operate,I did not see or hear of such. Accident victims remain at the mercy of good Samaritans to take them to the hospitals in pickup trucks, cars, motorcycles or any means possible,before the police arrive. Motor vehicle and motorcycle accidents are very common and waste many lives. Many of these accidents are avoidable. Many victims would survive if real emergency help was available. Some victims are further injured by wrong handling and many victims die from injuries which should not take their lives. Emergency help in the real sense of it is not really available.

It is a well known fact that some commercial drivers use a shot(of hot drink, like whisky), before starting their rounds in the morning, especially during the harmattan season. The shot is supposed to do what coffee does, but it is hard to understand how alcohol can become a stimulant or eye opener in the morning. It is no wonder some drivers, especially the motorcycle drivers, drive as if the devil is after them. At the end of the day, they do not even make that much money, as the owners get most of the money earned. Most of the commercial drivers lease the motorcycles and cars and pay flat rates to the owners on a weekly basis. Getting enough sleep before going to work will help a lot, chewing on kola nuts will beat using hot drinks, since coffee is not readily available. Most of the coffee on the market are the decaffeinated instant products.
Going back to gutters, I am still trying to understand why gutters are left uncovered after the completion of road projects. I have no idea who is expected to cover the gutters or why the contractors are paid for road projects if they leave the gutters uncovered. In this twenty first century, in an oil producing country, deep,wide gutters are left totally uncovered,as they border roads and highways, obviously for the purpose of carrying rain water to the proper channels for proper disposal. These open gutters can send a driver unfamiliar with them into a confused panic especially when a swerve is necessary to avoid a careless driver. Cars and motorcycles drive so close to the edge of the gutters, putting passengers at great risk. Pedestrians walk too close to the gutters.Pedestrians cross these gutters to get to their destinations.Wooden boards are strategically placed for people to cross the gutters and go into shops or places of business. Otherwise the gutters are open and people cross at their own risk. Watching the activities around gutters can cause serious anxiety for a person not used to such.

A glimpse into the gutters reveal improvised garbage dumps in some areas. All kinds of garbage can be found in these gutters. Plastic bags rank at the top, followed by bottles( plastic and glass),metal objects, disposed tools and gadgets, an occasional carcass can be seen in the gutters. A family of chickens, mother hen and chicks were sighted in a gutter clucking away while scavenging for food. How they got in there and how they would get out were questions on the mind.They probably live in there feeding on scraps of food thrown in the gutters until the chicks get old enough to leave on their own or fly out of the gutters. Other less friendly creatures also ply these gutters.
I can't see how flood water moves through these mostly clogged gutters, or maybe they get cleaned in the rainy season,I don't know.
It looks like the gutters are not even noticeable anymore to the people who see them or go by them daily. They walk and drive really close to these gutters with no qualm whatsoever.

The hustling for survival brings humans and even non humans to these roads and highways in these mini cities. At the peak of traffic one can see cars and trucks, motorcycles,lorries, occasional trailers dragging containers, pile up trying to pass through an intersection. With no working traffic lights, or police patrol directing traffic, it becomes a free-for-all struggle and usually everyone is in a big hurry and the resulting jam can last for a long time. Add pedestrians, both human and otherwise to the mix, and it becomes quite interesting to watch.
On one such day, as I tried to stay focused and not lose my spot to a clever driver,
or be maneuvered too close to the gutter, something very funny happened. At the jam with everything at a standstill,a goat,yes a goat,a white goat with black legs and face, abdomen bulging over the short sturdy legs , was pushing her way through the jam. She made her way through, crossed to the other side of the road,paused before deciding to head right. It was too funny,as the goat,unfazed by the confusion, hustled her way through the traffic in search of food. She was very focused.
The goats and their compatriots, the chickens,and others, work as unpaid sanitation workers, scavengers who eat any edible garbage with pleasure. In some araes, they roam unperturbed,seriously doing their jobs and they look quite well-fed and healthy. Which brings to mind a group,called sanitation workers in childhood days, who made sure that public health was not jeopardized. They inspected shops and surroundings for cleanliness, and made sure that no animals were roaming the markets. Those were the good old days.
The red flags of the PWD (Public Works Department) workers also come to mind. The PWD men patched potholes on the roads, removed debris from the roads, and cleaned gutters, and then there were policemen and women with white gloves who directed traffic at intersections. Where on earth did these government workers go? When will road contractors be made to cover their gutters or be responsible for injuries and death caused by these open gutters? Covering their gutters should be part and parcel of the contract. Open gutters, no deal!
Awka, in Anambra state is looking good. Being a new city being put together with some kind of planning may be the reason. I can't recall if the gutters are covered. I really hope they are.
To be continued---

The Hero---adieu

Before continuing with writing about my experiences in the homeland, I will put out this poem,or rather my thoughts,about the departed noble son, Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu, a true hero,who gave his life,wealth and everything, for his people in their time of greatest need and danger, and for his country, Nigeria.



Coo for the hero
Finally free from strife,
from the trek, called life.
A life sacrificed for others,
as his lot was altered.
His work is done,
He fought the good fight,
finished his race,
and rode off the stage,
to the great beyond.
Throwing into deep sorrow
his friends of yore
and new friends alike,
from all walks of life.
Who come out in droves
for a last salute
for the General,
the people’s General.
His foes are not spared
all the hoopla,
the bustling of activity
surrounding the passing
of this great hero.

Coo for the legend
Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu.
Gone but very much around
traveling from coast to coast,
city to city,
pulling crowds at every stop.
Nostalgia holds sway
as Biafra is revisited.
The highways and byways.
Memories of
the war fronts, the armed forces,
boy soldiers,
refugee camps,
Kwashiorkor
Bonny legs, wavy hair,
abdominal girth
grossly exaggerated.
Lethargic youngsters
near the gates of death.
Biafra
Bombed hospitals, burning markets.
The relief centers,
research centers,
Churches
Of the Christian republic.
Biafra
The war songs sound again
as memories flood of
Biafrans
hanging in there,
encouraged by the assurance,
the leadership
and comforting words
of the bearded brother,
Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu.
Who had turned his back on wealth,
incredible wealth,
on comfort and fame.
inherited fame, but
threw himself in death’s path,
in defense of his people
marked for annihilation.
He stood firmly
despite the bleakness
and stark reality
of the uphill battle.

Trusting the Almighty,
he had seen the bigger picture
for his beloved country,
then oppressing his people.
He had seen a possible future
of stability, equity and peace.
A picture totally missed.
His idea was ridiculed,
trampled on, and rejected.

“Let my people go”
Was his response.
“Let my people go”
He asked of his country
and the world.
“Let my people go”
The hero insisted.
Biafra was born and
and was promptly attacked.

“Give us arms to fight back”
Was his people’s cry.
Biafra
Land of the rising sun.
A safe homeland at last.
A hope for life,peace,
possibilities unlimited.
Biafra
Some hope at last.
Biafra,attacked,
dug her heels in,
fought back with guns,clubs,
homemade arsenal,
guts and tenacity
against a gang up.

Thirty months of fighting,
Thirty months of striving
to survive
cruelty at its worst.
Brutal war
baring the worst in man.
Biafra
hung in there
by the skin of her teeth.
Bruised, blocked,
starved,
Biafra hung in there.
Bombed repeatedly.
Biafra hung in there.

With no end in sight
of the human suffering
and dying,
a truce at last.
Peace at last
for the unified nation.
Peace at last.

Over the years
nothing changed.
Biafra
of the mind?

History is coming home to roost
and generations to come
will know the price paid,
the path paved,
to give freedom a boost
for Nigeria,
or the nations therein.

Change is in the air
as the hero soars
over land and sea,
on this last outing
as all can see
of a great man.

Coo for the hero.
The departed hero.
The beloved hero,
Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu.
Adieu.


Onye Uwa Oma
February 23 2012.

Nigeria on the move continued---3

It is natural to go from talking about women to talking about children. In Mrs Nneamaka Chikezie's upcoming book on African women, the plight of young mothers and their children feature very well.
Children are the most hit by the hydra-headed problems on the ground. I cannot start enumerating all the problems children face in the Nigerian society. There are just too many. I will focus on children five years and under, who are the most hard hit. These children face so much that I will describe being that age as a threat against survival. Everything is against them, so to speak. Watching children in that age group always left me very restless and sad. It was as if they were just steps away from death or some dreadful tragedy waiting to happen at any given time, and these deaths and tragedies happen quite often.
On schooldays, one can see these youngsters in their bright school uniforms, walking to school, in groups or alone, with their school bags, and food flasks for after school lesson. Some are as young as two years old. They stay at school until about four in the evening and then can be seen shuffling home,obviously exhausted, sharing the road with okada (commercail motorcyle riders)and vehicles all kinds,some of which travel at top speed, if the road is half decent. These children walk so close to the deep uncovered gutters that I catch myself praying under my breath that none of them ends up in the gutter, knocked down by a vehicle or by falling in. Such accidents happen all the time, of course and there's no 911 to call.
The lucky children whose parents have machines, (motorcycles), get rides to school and the sight of them each time sends me into a mini panic attack. It is common to see up to four children,or even more, probably all the children the okada driver has, ranging in age from two to maybe eight years, lined up, sitting on the motorcycle, behind mother or father or the commercial rider taking them to school. The motorcycle made for two, now carries up to five people with no helmet or straps holding them down. They weave through the madness, called traffic,avoiding potholes and trash on the road. There is dust from all the traffic going through the dusty parts of the tarred road. My heart goes out to people with asthma all the time. Real rough life. In these traffic jams, it is quite common to suddenly drive up to a forty foot container off-loading right there on the highway, or some other mind bugling activity, like the auctioning of used clothing, right on the road or a few feet off the road,causing an obstruction. At times like that I wonder where the police are or what they are in existence for. Through this mad rush young children walk or are transported to school, some stacked up like livestock on their way to the slaughter house. The same scenario plays again in the evening on the way home. I guess people are used to the sight and take it in stride when tragedies strike.
The mothers prepare food for after-school lessons which are transported to school in flasks. "Indomil" an instant noodle preparation features highly on the lesson menu. The children speak highly of it and sing the jingles of the indomil man, who comes to school once in a while to tell them about indomil. They love indomil which has become a household name. I hope the loving mothers augment it with some vegetables and occasional fish at least.

Through the community health centers, when they are open, more children are getting their shots and other services. One can hear the town crier in the quiet pre-dawn hours, announcing the coming of such services to the community health center or a selected venue. Free medical services from visiting Medical missionaries are also announced that way, like the the free eye checkups and very affordable surgeries for those who needed them were offered by the Anambra State government at the premises of the traditional ruler. Lines formed early and many people were helped.
The most disturbing of the problems facing very young children is maternal death at childbirth which has become very common. In the span of one week, one may hear of two or more women who died at or after childbirth. One roadside "maternity" may record more than two deaths in one month and pregnant women still continue going to these joints. These unnecessary dying has left a bunch little boys and girls who are scared to death and confused and are at the mercy of relatives. These children may get shuffled around for a while before any form of normalcy returns to their lives. The father may be too traumatized to function for a while. I was able to bring this subject up with a Commissioner for Health at a funeral. I had asked him what they were doing about the epidemic of women dying at childbirth and leaving babies and toddlers behind. He explained that some of these young women set themselves up by going to these so called maternity centers and also by getting little or no prenatal care. At delivery time, the slightest complication, like high blood pressure, high blood sugar or bleeding claims their lives.since they cannot get to the hospital to get help on time. He emphasized that his office is doing everything possible to change the picture by sending messages to people through the airwaves and through churches and community associations. The newborns left behind end up with relatives most of the time. Reports coming from motherless babies homes are not encouraging.
The older siblings of the newborns who understand a little bit of what happened to them are left to sort their nightmare out. After the celebration of their deceased mother's life, with the eating and singing and crowds and all the attention they get, the crowds leave and all they have left is a heap of red soil over the grave in full view in the courtyard, and an empty lost feeling. If the father fell apart, then the children also worry about the father dying, and some of the children act out their fears, talking non stop or doing everything possible to be the center of attention. Sometimes, their fear is so real that they ask questions about death, about heaven, why people die and if their father would die too. The sad thing is that more children join this club daily. Scary and pitiful. The main reason behind my strong desire to move back as soon as possible. To be continued.

Nigeria on the move continued---

Most of the young people mentioned from the beginning of this writing hold higher education diplomas or degrees. Some are still university students. One good thing I noticed is that holders of higher education certificates are no longer hanging unto the hope of finding jobs through the government or established large companies like the oil companies and banks. Many are now taking the bull by the horn and finding some gainful employment, no matter how lowly.
Izunna, a university student, comes home on weekends or every chance he gets to do odd jobs to generate income. In addition, he is an amateur photographer, covering occasions for people. He does a great job at it. His coverage of the cultural extravaganza following the Ofala festival celebrated by the Igwe of Nnewi, produced great pictures of the event. Some pictures will be shared later.
Onyinye, a graduate with a leaning towards ministry, carries out her calling by working with the elderly, a subject she studied extensively in the university.Elderly care is an area totally ignored in Igboland and Nigeria today. Most elderly, mostly women are forced to leave their homes and live with their children in the big cities where they can be cared for. Most are not thrilled with being away from their homes, but have no choice. If couples are involved, it is no problem since the elderly couple at least have each other. The problem arises when it involves a widow or widower. Coping with their loss and then the additional burden of being removed from their home becomes a burden.Finding reliable assistance for the elderly is an uphill task. That is why Onyinye's ministry is so unique.
The elderly have a lot of problems, ranging from finding dometic help to health issues and the worst, for retirees especially,getting to their pensions and their bank accounts are like pulling teeth. More to come on this subject.

Nnamdi, a young father of three married really young, which is the noticeable trend now. Young people are settling down, instead of waiting. They struggle together to make ends meet, it seems like. I do not have the details but it is clear that young people are getting married without waiting to be established in careers.It is a good trend and from personal experience, it is a good thing for many reasons. Ikwa-nkwu, as Ndi Nnewi call it or Igba-nkwu remains a regular source of socializing and entertainment.
Nnamdi and his wife, Chioma, work very hard to care for their young family,buzzing around on their machines (motorcycles) to take the children to school, and tend to their shops. A very busy young family.

I had a few books given to me to read by the authors. The four books, two written by Reverend Dr Fred Nwachukwuma, and two other titles by other authors,were mostly put aside because of my very busy schedule. Finally on my long flight back, I tried to finish reading the books. One written by Professor J.O.C Onyemelukwe, under his pen name Chike Onyemelukwe was also finished on the flight. Dr Nwachukwuma's "Wading Through the Storm" was quite inspiring to me.The other, I still have to read.
Professor Onyemelukwe's " Hope from Distant Lands" is quite an interesting reading,a good reading, especially with the arrival and spreading over the airwaves, radio especially, of the odinani movement. The odinani movement is off and going, with jingles on the radio and young people are joining. Some are trying to understand the theology behind the movement. There are now Christian funerals and Odinani funerals and celebrations of life. This brings me to celebrations of life and everything that comes with them.
The month of December being set aside and exempted from funerals and burials, leaves January rolling around with series of funerals and celebrations of life going on. One can hear in the cool harmatan evening, sounds of egbenduru or nkpo ana, as some call it, booming over and over again, bringing to mind the igbasu ozu of childhood days. Even women were receiving these loud gun salutes.Quite interesting.
The third book I was opportuned to briefly read is an upcoming book, not yet published. A well researched book on women issues in Africa and Nigeria,penned by a lawyer, Mrs Maoudline Nneamaka Chikezie, the book titled "African Woman, Sentenced by Tradition" will surely draw a lot of attention when published. She is working very hard towards publishing the book with the eye catching back cover.
To be continued--- Banking et.c

Nigeria on the move

I came back from Nigeria last week, after a ten week visit. The nature of my visit made it possible for me to interact with many people in different settings, social, business,(banking, marketplace, business office)and religious. Although the time was not that long, but I had the opportunity to interact, participate and talk to people. The removal of the fuel subsidy and the strike which came with it helped a lot in gauging the pulse of the society.

In Anambra State, the vigilante groups are slowly acquiring the looks and functions of local city or town police here in the united States. They are dedicated, vigilante so far are not abusing the power or rather the authority they have. The Christmas season was quiet and safe and people moved around freely. I cannot say the same about other states since I did not visit those states or spend time in them. I did go through Lagos and the streets and highways were noticeably clean, which brings me to the sanitary conditions. I came across sanitation workers picking up garbage in Nnewi, but I am not sure how often they come around. The 24/7 burning garbage pile along ugwu-akpati-ozu in Nnewi remains, waxing stronger. The effect of the smoke is beginning to show in some trees, in my opinion. Papaya trees, for example are really affected by something I was told was a papaya plant disease, which I strongly suspect to be a result of burning plastics and metals daily all around town. The left over ash melted plastics and rusted metal cans and containers litter what used to be farmlands and garden, quite a nuisance in some areas. Another obvious hazard I noticed was the menace of broken tiles which are popular in home constructions. I recorded a few injuries from broken tiles which are razor sharp. A relative had a bad gash under his toe, which required serious treatment and dressing for a while.
My biggest source of joy came from the attitude of the young people. The young people have decided to roll up their sleeves and generate income through honest work, no matter how lowly, dignity of labor, I will call it. For example, Pastor Obinna who works on weekdays as ogbu akwu and he works very hard and is very reliable. Onyeka sells used clothing and other acesories, KC is a painting contractor and handles serious work. Nwakego works at the church school and helps people who need her help.
It was impressed by the change in attitude and the increased awareness of the happenings around them. Removal of the fuel subsidy was hotly discussed and debated.
People in general are more aware of what is happening in their world. There are private schools all over the place and who would be surprised after the track record of strikes by state schools. In the morning,a variety of school uniform calls dot the roads as children ride to school on okada, a story for another day. I just hope there is a standard or yardstick for checking these schools and their teachers and administrators. If well monitored, the results will be good, as more children are in school.