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.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 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
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
Friday, May 21, 2010
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
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
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
Friday, May 14, 2010
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
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
Friday, February 26, 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.
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.
Friday, February 12, 2010
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, whileconvenient 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.
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.
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