Category Archives: writing, poetry and blogging

Academic Excellence is Overrated!

​Academic excellence is overrated, please correct me if I’m wrong. Being top of your class does not necessarily guarantee that you will be at the top of life. You could graduate as the best student in Finance but it doesn’t mean you will make more money than everybody else. The best graduating Law student does not necessarily become the best lawyer. The fact is life requires more than the ability to understand a concept, memorise it and reproduce it in an exam. School rewards people for their memory. Life rewards people for their imagination.

School rewards caution, life rewards daring. School hails those who live by the rules. Life exalts those who break the rules and set new ones. So do I mean people shouldn’t study hard in school? Oh, no, you should. But don’t sacrifice every other thing on the altar of First Class.

Don’t limit yourself to the classroom. Do something practical. Take a leadership position. Start a business and fail. That’s a better Entrepreneurship 101.Join or start a club. Contest an election and lose. It will teach you something Political Science 101 will not teach you. Attend a seminar. Read books outside the scope of your course. Go on missions and win a soul for eternal rewards… Do something you believe in! Think less of becoming an excellent student but think more of becoming an excellent person. Make the world your classroom…your certificate gives you prestige, but what pays the bill is your sabificate, the world doesn’t reward potentials but performance!!!             #EmeritusDesk

THE LIE (Series 12)

Segun was bubbling this morning. He had grown stronger and healthier in the last three months after the horrible attack even though his attackers had left a scar across his face precisely on his forehead but fortunately it made him look more macho and handsome. Tade, Segun’s mum watched her soon as he ate his breakfast.

It looks like this Bisola girl has a lot to do with your recovery, you up and excited about going out. If I had my way you would still be staying in for a while. The POP just came of your arm.

“Mum! I am fine. I have not gone anywhere except the hospital”.

 And I want to go out to see what is happening and really I want to see Bisola and really Rose, he said inside himself. I want to see how she looks now after dumping me in such a cruel manner and even that, I can’t help my growing attraction for her. Bisola has been a great friend in this time and I want to greet her.

“I want you to be careful. We don’t know the angers locking around you even though your father says he has taken care of it”, Tade said.

“Yes Ma!” Segun got up from the dining table and headed for the door.


“Are you going somewhere this morning?” Helen asked Bisola after watching her daughter’s demeanour. She was excited and did all her choirs heartily but most notably, she looked very beautiful this morning. Her braids were packed up in a ponytail; she took time to apply her makeup and wore a sweet scent.

Bisola smiled. “Let’s just say I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and felt like looking good.”

Helen looked at her daughter and did not feel comfortable with her answer but decided not to push. Some puzzle was missing, while Bisola grew happier everyday Rose was withdrawn and quiet and she was locking everyone else out and hidden the key somewhere possibly with her father’s ghost. Since Samson died, all she wanted to do was fill that vacuum in Rose’s life but she had never really succeeded and just then Segun came along. Segun! It struck a cord in her. Could all this withdrawal of one and excitement of the other have anything to do with Segun? But she couldn’t fathom why until there was a knock on the door.


Johnson sat on his chair wondering how to get out of this mess he found himself.

 Everybody is greedy, and tell me where greediness ever gets anyone to. I gave these boys what I had in mind for them but now they are saying they want it shared 55/45. If I give in to their demand what would have been the point of the deal? Moreover they killed my friend when all I asked them to do was get the documents needed to access the deal. They gave the lame excuse that he was stubborn and in the process saw one of their faces. How was that his fault? Now they are threatening to implicate me in the death of Alade. Treacherous is what they are. If they would agree to 70/30, then I could manage.

A text message entered his phone. “Your wife is on her way out and this time be grateful if lives to tell you the story” was the message on his phone.

Immediately, everywhere was so cold and he started shivering, he dialled his wife’s number but she wasn’t answering her phone.

He sent a message back to them, “I would meet you demand, proceed to my office immediately”.

“No! Meet us at our usual joint”. They responded.


Tade pick up her phone to see that her husband had called her several times. She had kept her phone inside her purse and put it in the inner space in her handbag and zipped it up before she entered the shopping mall to get groceries. Today that Segun was out, she decided to go out and buy all what was needed herself rather than send the new maid they got only recently.

Why did her husband call her several times, what could he have wanted? He hasn’t called her while he was at work for years unless there was something he urgently needed and that only happens once in a red moon. But she couldn’t remember when last she saw up to ten missed calls from him.

She wanted to call him back but decided against it in order not to secure his wrath and have him make today a bad day for her.

She entered her car and drove off.

THE LIE (Series 7)

John chapter 2 verses 12 to 17 was where the Pastor that preached at the program a classmate of hers invited her to read from. After the pastor finished reading she found herself reading further to verse 24. 23 to 25 struck a strong cord in her.

Rose had finished her exams four days earlier but waited to attend a program organized by one of the fellowships in school a close colleague had invited her to. She called her mum to tell her that she would be staying back for the program and won’t be coming home as the day she had wanted to and her mum had told her that her coming will be a day after Bisola’s return.

 The program lasted for three days and this night was the last night.

She didn’t listen to much of what the preacher was saying.  What she had read caught her attention so much she couldn’t free herself of it. Why won’t Jesus commit Himself to this people even though they believed on Him? What made them different from His disciples that he committed Himself to even though they were also humans? How do I know when not to commit myself to people? How would I know a person can be trusted? Rose thought within her.

Rose returned to the hostel a little troubled and she couldn’t place her finger on what it was exactly, whether it was what she read or something more.




Rose was happy to be done with her first year and it ended better than she imagined. But she was having mixed feelings on her way home, maybe it is nostalgia, she told herself.

 A passenger behind her tapped her on the back, “Sisi” I want to come down.

She came back suddenly from her thought island and realised she was at her bus stop. Rose got down and went for her luggage at the trunk of the bus. She turned to see if she could ask anyone around to help her move it to the road side till she could flag down a taxi when a 5 feet 9 inches tall dark guy who looked like he was in his mid-twenties walked up to her.

Can I help you with your luggage? He asked her

Yes. You came just in time. Thank you!

When they were safely away from the road, he asked her where she was going? Omole estate, she answered.

You live there? He asked

Yes I do. Rose answered.

What street?

Adedoyin Street.

After a while of silence, she thought it wise to ask him where he was headed. Omole estate he answered.

She gave him the look of surprise, what street?

Two streets before yours, he answered expressionless.

I guess that means we would be boarding same taxi then.

If you are ok with it, he answered and smiled.

Just then she noticed a taxi coming which she flagged down before others waiting along the road got a hold on it.



Johnson! Johnson! Wake up! What is it?

Johnson woke up to see his wife on the bed and was grateful for that. Thank God it was his wife and not the monster running after him.

What was it that is making you shake so violently? Johnson’s wife asked.

It was a bad dream. Some people were trying to kill me but they didn’t succeed before you woke me up.

Nobody can kill you my husband, you know that. Is anything troubling your mind, because you have been having nightmares for the last week?  Is there anything you want me to know before we pray?

Women! He said angrily and got up from the bed. You can go ahead and pray for both us, I want some time alone. And he was out of the room.

What have I said now to elicit such response, she asked the almost empty room left with only one human form? She heaved and knelt down to pray.




Rose felt at peace in the company of this stranger she that met only a while ago.

You seem far, a penny for your thought. He looked at her direction

We don’t spend penny in Nigeria so it won’t be of use, Rose said smiling

Ok! Smart one! What of its equivalent in naira?

My thoughts are too expensive for you to price them that low and why should a stranger care?

I’m sorry, forgive my manners. I am Adekola Cole, a student of Bowen University. I just finished my 300 level exams so I can say I’m a final year student now.  

I would say so much information for a stranger. I’m Rose Alade and my thoughts still remain in my custody.  Anyway, we are on your street now. I hope you enjoy your holiday.

 I know I would, just make sure you do the same. Am I permitted to visit when I can?

You are welcome except at odd hours.

It was nice to meet you Rose.

Rose smiled, “same here”. Bye

Adekola got off the taxi in front of his gate and Rose was grateful for the company.

She was home but something was not feeling right. Her unrest soon disappeared when she saw all her siblings being followed closely by her mum running to give her a warm welcome. She was home and she was also grateful for that.

Help! I’m Behind Bars II


I’m happy I have this time to continue my letter and please ignore what seems like a bad habit of not following protocols. A man in my shoes will definitely forget manners, a man behind bars that need urgent rescue. Please just know that your help is my biggest bait for I really am in dire need of help.

In my earlier letter, I mentioned that my second master is FEAR. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of making friends, fear of being hurt, fear of hating someone, fear of darkness, fear of not being loved in return, fear of being wrong and finally fear of FEAR. This I think has held me down so long I haven’t taken any major step in my life. It was fear that made me go to school and so my parents had to choose my course of study and now that I’m grown and they can’t make my decisions for me, I’m stuck. I’m afraid to take risk because I think I’m more of a pessimistic person even though when faced with the situation, I think I am being realistic, looking at my pros and cons and doing my analysis. I ask myself, “what if at the end of the day I am wrong?” since I never want to be wrong, I don’t even try. Not that I like it but I am stuck in this hole.

The thing is that I know fear has a limiting power, actually, a great limiting power. But I can’t stop myself. Its more like a head knowledge thing that hasn’t got a hold at my heart. Did I remember to tell you that I don’t have a job? I don’t and I think it’s partly due to the fact that when I go for interviews and I don’t want to be wrong because I’m afraid to fail it ends up that way. I show my fear but could it be some force actually working against me? Forces that don’t want my progress, or could it be fear of acknowledging my faults that I quickly want to attribute my problems to some forces?

Help me find answers for I am running back into my hole before I am found out. I will find time to tell you about the other part. I need independence, but I am even afraid to fight for it so come and take me out. And please remember not to give me the motivational talk that it’s only me that can help me because if it was so, I would have done that.

                   Still me,


Help! I’m Behind Bars


Picture source: @IAMGABRIHEL

My name is Lawrence and I need your help. Maybe I should tell you a little about myself before I enumerate my numerous and voluptuous problems and maybe you could come to my aid and fix what has defied all my available solutions.

I am a 28 year old graduate with a second class upper division as one of my achievement. I went to one of the best federal universities in the country and I come from a family where we are comfortable. We are not rich but we can afford anything we need. I can be good at anything I set my heart on. I don’t come from a home with parents who are separated. My parents may not be best of friends but they can stand each other at least so I can say I have a lot of tranquillity at home and to add to it, I have very supportive siblings that never make me feel bad about any of my pitfalls and my longest laughter so far in life is awarded to my siblings.

You would have thought that my life is perfect and more than half of the population in the world would want my life but that is because they don’t know the half of my story. I am just a stranger in my own skin. I don’t know who I am or what I want. I have so many dreams but I am a captive, a slave and so I am not permitted to dream.

You might want to ask me who am a slave to and who sold me out but this piece of information I would gladly offer before you request. I’m a slave to fear, doubt and anger but I can’t tell you exactly who sold me out but I am thinking its either my parents or myself. Yes, I mean what I am saying. You are either smiling or surprised but I feel I am right and here is why;

Anger is one of my dad’s genetic makeup and it seems I unfortunately got that part of his gene but my mum is also the angry type so I don’t think I have gentleness recessive in me. So if anger is all dominant in me with no recessive trait how am I to help myself? To make matters worse, I pride myself in it, in the fact that my parents are this “no nonsense” people and that anger is in my blood. I like to tell people I get angry easily like its some virtue that I wear on my neck like a garland. So I could have also being the one to sell me self to slavery or maybe I decided to remain in it.

Then the next is fear, but let me tell you more about this in my next letter but meanwhile start preparing your answers and solutions to my problems.



Colours in our Closet

Guest writter: Doyin Akintayo


Sometimes in our lives. We all have pain. We all have sorrows. But if only we would just shut up and realise there are others who suffer worse things than we do, perhaps we would tread life with better judgement.

I run away from clingers. I know you do too. All they do is take, take, take. But they never give. I like to receive as much as I like to give. Giving without receiving feels draining. Receiving without giving feels like cheating. So, I ask that we do our best to give. That way, we find joy in receiving.

Do you seriously think we are the only ones in closets? 99% of the world is. They have only figured out a way to keep us in ours. When you come out, you’ll see.

Cloths in my closet, as well as yours, have colours. The closet is a dark place. That’s why we find it hard to see the colours. 99% of the world loves colours. They want us to show them ours. They want us to stay in our closets and still show them the colours of our clothes. Yet they say we are the confused ones. It’s zero help to let their confusion confuse us. They stay in their own closets far more than we (or they) realize. They know little about what they truly want.

I know. It may sound like gibberish. But think about it. Who isn’t looking for answers? Who isn’t hiding something? Who doesn’t have something to protect?

We are all looking for answers.

The colours of your clothes can give answers to those who need them. They’ll say you inspired them. They’ll say you gave them a reason to be true. They’ll say you gave them strength to win their battles. It won’t matter if you both shared the same closet. It won’t matter if you both struggled to come out of different closets. It would matter that you made a difference. You showed them your colours.

Sometimes in our lives. We all have pain. We all have sorrows. But if we would look and see, even though only through the key holes of our closet doors, we’ll know the joys that come

The Bible says, that though sorrow may last for a night, joy comes in the morning.

Who Are You?


Ask yourself this today, tell “you” the sincere truth and we can move forward today.

What do you live for?
Who do you live for?
What’s your driving force?
Who is your driving force?
What keeps you going?
Who keeps you going?
Why are you doing what you are doing?
When was the last time you tried something new?
What are your shadows?
Why do you have shadows?
When last did you give up yourself to place smile on others face?
When was the last time someone’s smile lighted up your day?

If you have answered these questions and your answers are centered on yourself, ambition and fear then you need to take a look out of the window and see that you are just one of the numerous human race, you could be a granule of sand on the sea shore that needs the rest to make it worthwhile, for its texture to be felt.

But if your answers are love, God and others then we are on the right way, the way to making a difference and leaving an impact.

Share your answers with us, it would be appreciated.

The Colour in My Hair


When I was born, going by what my mum and picture tells me, I had a very dark hair. It was dark, thick, full and beautiful. I fall in love with my baby picture any time I see it. My mum had it hung on the wall and any time babies came around they cried after the baby im the picture. They cry for the baby, they want the baby but they dont cry after me because they didnt realise that the baby they are Crying after is the adult taking care of them and trying to have their attention. To make the matter funny is that some of this babies refuse me carrying them but keep crying after my baby picture. My baby hair gave my baby picture the colour.

Now I’m all grown and hoping to be a mother soon and I have a different hair all together. After cutting ny hair several times I can make bold to say that my hair carries a different colour. I still go to the hair salon and say I want to make my hair but i dont see any baby nor adult crying after my hair. So much has changed, not only with my hair but with everything about and around me. I dont have any of the friends I used to have as a baby and a child. My parents are still my parents but so much has changed simply because we have all changed. When I was younger, I saw life differently and saw enemies in trivial things but now I can understand the scripture that says, a mans enemies are of his own household and it makes me learn how to be more effective in praying. And I also know that my enemy is not flesh and blood but principality and powers. When i was younger I quoted the scripture, be thou perfect as your father in heaven is perfect without understanding but now I know that the perfection there is to be perfect in love as my father in heaven is perfect in love.

As a child with my beautiful hair, I had a beautiful heart and my mum told me that even her principal that was mean and stingy gave me gift but as I grow older, maybe I lost my beautiful heart with my hair but now I understand, that when you love your enemies and pray for everyone, when you don’t assume what men are saying and you stop deducing their actions you find peace and you can love them. When you make excuses for their wrongs you easily forgive them and when you let go of yourself and deal with the matter of the old nature and you are led by the spirit of God then you can have a beautiful heart.

When I was a child, my innocence made me beutiful, my hair had its color and now that I’m grown, wisdom and grace with tenderness makes me beautiful and meekness will give my hair colour.

*now don’t think that is me up there, its a  baby picture.*winks*