“It doesn’t matter if I play a fast one on that supervisor in the exam hall…”
“It doesn’t matter if I ‘help’ (though negative) myself as heaven helps those who helped themselves”.
“It doesn’t matter if I do it the other way round and have it my way”.
“It doesn’t matter if I employ the aid of academic machineries during the forthcoming examination”.
These are the words you don’t have to strain the pinna of your ear to be able to collect their sound waves, provided you can chat up anyone who doesn’t handle his responsibility as a matter of importance in achieving his set goal(s). It would always make one wonder at the way people tend to watch their lives with indifference, while it gradually slip into self induced abyss, without making an effort to somewhat save it. ‘It doesn’t matter…’ comes into use and become very handy to quickly resort to when facing a crisis, in order to give a non-commensurable pats to ourselves. Would it not be better if we make a public show of our inadequacies and get the required direction from those that have travelled the journey before?
It matters a lot to discontinue the use of the phrase “It doesn’t matter…” in every of our conducts and activities. This word would always only bring to your memory others that have failed due to their resignation in the face of the difficulty involved in their task. It would never remind you of people who kept trudging the same mountain you are climbing now without sloughing off their responsibilities and finally ascended into victory. “It doesn’t matter…” is invariably resonated with stories of woe, failure, weakness and not of success. A common word says: ‘What you do not fight and struggle for, you don’t get’. It is only a person who has made up his mind about pulling out of an activity that gets FAILURE as his identity tag.
We have become so dilettante in our approach to almost all things that whenever we are stalked in a quandary for sometime, we easily make references to a story to support why our lackadaisical attitude, which equaled to poor result, shouldn’t matter. Whoever doesn’t put every little and tit-bit of details into consideration will never matter in his society and to the people around him. It is time we made every thing matter in our lives, so that we don’t become castaways of our self destroyed ship - everything in life will always matter. When a thing ceases to matter, it becomes a matter of rottenness and extinction. We cannot afford losing time and resources by stashing away our quart into a pint pot. Every hand must tenaciously hold onto his tool of social and personal revival, as we cannot make a ‘fried egg’ without breaking an egg. All, for success sake, will always matter!
Friday, January 15, 2010
‘It Doesn’t Matter…’ (Not a Country)
This sentence permeates the whole gamut of the ways through which the affairs of this country is run in this present time, which corroborates the fact why the gait of this country is shaky and weak. Of what matter will it be when the festering wound of this country is peeled open again through the cursory dealing of this piece with the already battered image of this country? Many have through their eclecticism of the pen already dealt a deadly blow to the nonchalant temperament of the leaders that have always been captaining this rudderless ship (Nigeria) that has no destination and where to berth, making it to sail against the tide of selflessness in service. As much as I considered myself and this writing not worthy enough to penetrate the hush of this desolate entity, called Nigeria, I wouldn’t want to join the league of honorable men and women, who have always been crying their voices hoarse through the pen, because I am not ready to bear the cross that comes with the responsibility of brandishing the pen as a weapon in the war against the ever-long standing war of corruption in a situation like ours (may the soul of Bayo Ohu rest in peace and others that died for the just cause they believed in with their tooth and nails).
It does not matter as the helmsman of a political cult, People Destroying People, has succinctly posited that nothing will ever be able to stop the wheels of the party from running on with the blood sucked out of the innocent as a source of powering it (pun intended). The party was determined to achieve this through their parochial diktat, which has inflicted pain on those robbed of their voices and mandates.
It doesn’t even matter as a matter-of-fact if these agbada vested leaders keep parading and junketing around the globe (which it is now named and isolated from as a pariah in the interest of securing world peace and combating modern terrorism) with the grin sustained and refreshed with the wealth gotten from public pillaging of the innocent’s inheritances. Why should one fight with his might, sweat and blood to bring down the wall of Baber of this nation and pleasantly chew the possibility of escaping death at close shave, when those who gave it their all tasted the everlasting dust before their appointed time?
We have, since the life of this despoiled democratic terrain began, been tempting fate and tottering on the brink of infirmary. Would it not matter if we regurgitate the meal served us by the Minister of (in)Justice some weeks ago? He said in one of his ways of stealing the storm in the loyalty race to the president of ‘Umoru, they say you are dead. Are you dead or alive?’, that; the ‘dead or alive’ president can perform his executive role from any part of the world. Few days after this not-too-crafted infantile exhibition, a friend of mine on Facebook applauded the statement of the Attorney General of Corrupt Tendencies and Clique of Thievery. This friend suggested a way of going about the Presidential Inter-territorial system of governance successfully without itch. She said to strengthen her suggestion that; ‘the extension of the ‘Es’ of e-dating, e-commerce, e-religion and e-learning to the governance of the absconding Umoru of Nigeria, will without let or hindrance make provision for the suggestion of the rule-from-anywhere governance’. If this happened, the pockets and purses of the sworn electronic hackers and ‘fishers’ (phishing) will be swollen from great catch of technological illiterate leaders, as it will be very easy to disguise as the Minister of (mis)Information and Special (mis)Advisor of the president, whenever the latter is to update his knowing to stay abreast of the current yarns being spinned to maintain his subsisting chair in the Aso Rock from the purported and controversial sickbed in King Fiasal’s Hospital in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. It would also afford the unrepentant members of the MEND the opportunity to release the Almighty Ralia Odiga (a benign but most destructive virus) into the server of the e-governance, without having to bear the weight of carrying guns and grenades when fighting the ‘it doesn’t matter…’ of leaders towards ameliorating their social and environmental sufferings by upping the ante of the revenue allocation that is always churned out to them.
In the flagrant display of the ‘It doesn’t matter…’ idiosyncrasies of our leaders to the detriment of the country, so many questions beg as a matter to be considered, but the ears and attention of those who are to guide, ‘watchdog’ and balance the equation of the power which is now over gulped; by invoking the power of our porous constitution leaves too much to be desired.
It was once said as a matter of fact that it would have been better if our ‘proud’ son of the soil, Umar Yaradua - sorry Farouk, the attempted underwear bomber, had thought it better to birth his ‘bravery’ and destructive sleight of the hand at Aso Rock and the National Assembly that shelters the real enemies of the Al-Quaida of Nigeria (I mean those that fight the irresistibly the brazen wickedness and show of shame of their leaders), instead of discomforting the nerves of the defenceless people, who were enjoying their Season of Christmas.
JOSEPH OMOTAYO
It does not matter as the helmsman of a political cult, People Destroying People, has succinctly posited that nothing will ever be able to stop the wheels of the party from running on with the blood sucked out of the innocent as a source of powering it (pun intended). The party was determined to achieve this through their parochial diktat, which has inflicted pain on those robbed of their voices and mandates.
It doesn’t even matter as a matter-of-fact if these agbada vested leaders keep parading and junketing around the globe (which it is now named and isolated from as a pariah in the interest of securing world peace and combating modern terrorism) with the grin sustained and refreshed with the wealth gotten from public pillaging of the innocent’s inheritances. Why should one fight with his might, sweat and blood to bring down the wall of Baber of this nation and pleasantly chew the possibility of escaping death at close shave, when those who gave it their all tasted the everlasting dust before their appointed time?
We have, since the life of this despoiled democratic terrain began, been tempting fate and tottering on the brink of infirmary. Would it not matter if we regurgitate the meal served us by the Minister of (in)Justice some weeks ago? He said in one of his ways of stealing the storm in the loyalty race to the president of ‘Umoru, they say you are dead. Are you dead or alive?’, that; the ‘dead or alive’ president can perform his executive role from any part of the world. Few days after this not-too-crafted infantile exhibition, a friend of mine on Facebook applauded the statement of the Attorney General of Corrupt Tendencies and Clique of Thievery. This friend suggested a way of going about the Presidential Inter-territorial system of governance successfully without itch. She said to strengthen her suggestion that; ‘the extension of the ‘Es’ of e-dating, e-commerce, e-religion and e-learning to the governance of the absconding Umoru of Nigeria, will without let or hindrance make provision for the suggestion of the rule-from-anywhere governance’. If this happened, the pockets and purses of the sworn electronic hackers and ‘fishers’ (phishing) will be swollen from great catch of technological illiterate leaders, as it will be very easy to disguise as the Minister of (mis)Information and Special (mis)Advisor of the president, whenever the latter is to update his knowing to stay abreast of the current yarns being spinned to maintain his subsisting chair in the Aso Rock from the purported and controversial sickbed in King Fiasal’s Hospital in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. It would also afford the unrepentant members of the MEND the opportunity to release the Almighty Ralia Odiga (a benign but most destructive virus) into the server of the e-governance, without having to bear the weight of carrying guns and grenades when fighting the ‘it doesn’t matter…’ of leaders towards ameliorating their social and environmental sufferings by upping the ante of the revenue allocation that is always churned out to them.
In the flagrant display of the ‘It doesn’t matter…’ idiosyncrasies of our leaders to the detriment of the country, so many questions beg as a matter to be considered, but the ears and attention of those who are to guide, ‘watchdog’ and balance the equation of the power which is now over gulped; by invoking the power of our porous constitution leaves too much to be desired.
It was once said as a matter of fact that it would have been better if our ‘proud’ son of the soil, Umar Yaradua - sorry Farouk, the attempted underwear bomber, had thought it better to birth his ‘bravery’ and destructive sleight of the hand at Aso Rock and the National Assembly that shelters the real enemies of the Al-Quaida of Nigeria (I mean those that fight the irresistibly the brazen wickedness and show of shame of their leaders), instead of discomforting the nerves of the defenceless people, who were enjoying their Season of Christmas.
JOSEPH OMOTAYO
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
YOU CAN INSPIRE!
The reason why we have always been lax with everything we do cannot be unconnected with the fact that we fail to understand that on our shoulders are responsibilities that are not only ours. Killing people and generations are not only done physically. We dent others’ future with so much sorrow through the negative attitude we have towards our responsibilities. Sometimes we abdicate it, and at times, we carry it out shabbily with lackluster.
Fame do not make men, men’s positive attitude to responsibility make fame for them. Inspiration in its simple meaning means the sudden stimulation of the human mind that helps to develop ideas while tackling various challenges in life. What inspiration does to us is to give us the enthusiasm and fervour that the challenges we are facing requires. Iron does not sharpen iron when facing a task that needs to be tackled with rare dexterity. You can not be heart saddened and expect creativity to flow. All you ever need is what will keep you over the situation – inspiration is it! Inspiration imbues in you the joy that would take you to the level of skillfulness needed to accomplish a task. No human life on earth has been left untouched by the potency of inspiration. Before inspiration, comes the longing to inspire others. In the process of affecting others, inspiration sprouts up.
Things that we get inspiration from today were things done by people who had had us in mind during the time they were putting their crafts to work. It would be going against the rule of the thump if are not preparing to get others inspired through the inspiration we got from some other things or people. To be able to inspire others, we must be ready to accept responsibility for our actions and inactions.” The opportunity to inspire others comes but we do not notice it. It is almost all the time drabbed with taking responsibilities” (Paraphrase). We cannot keep searching and seeking inspiration from others and things that they have created without refining it with our adroitness and redistributing it to others that need it. A food soon becomes poisonous when its waste content is not passed out through excreta. Inspiration is better got and maximally used when it is given as inspiration to those that stand on our shoulders to see what they would not have seen, had they not stood on us.
We can all inspire when we realize that our success and achievements will not only bring encomiums and accolades to us alone, but also to those that would take cue from it and re-route their steps by emulating our encouraging deeds
A maxim reads: “The lantern hung on our window posts is not only to give light to our backyards; it is also to give hope to the hopeless traveler; that he has not lost his path yet.”
You too can inspire!
Fame do not make men, men’s positive attitude to responsibility make fame for them. Inspiration in its simple meaning means the sudden stimulation of the human mind that helps to develop ideas while tackling various challenges in life. What inspiration does to us is to give us the enthusiasm and fervour that the challenges we are facing requires. Iron does not sharpen iron when facing a task that needs to be tackled with rare dexterity. You can not be heart saddened and expect creativity to flow. All you ever need is what will keep you over the situation – inspiration is it! Inspiration imbues in you the joy that would take you to the level of skillfulness needed to accomplish a task. No human life on earth has been left untouched by the potency of inspiration. Before inspiration, comes the longing to inspire others. In the process of affecting others, inspiration sprouts up.
Things that we get inspiration from today were things done by people who had had us in mind during the time they were putting their crafts to work. It would be going against the rule of the thump if are not preparing to get others inspired through the inspiration we got from some other things or people. To be able to inspire others, we must be ready to accept responsibility for our actions and inactions.” The opportunity to inspire others comes but we do not notice it. It is almost all the time drabbed with taking responsibilities” (Paraphrase). We cannot keep searching and seeking inspiration from others and things that they have created without refining it with our adroitness and redistributing it to others that need it. A food soon becomes poisonous when its waste content is not passed out through excreta. Inspiration is better got and maximally used when it is given as inspiration to those that stand on our shoulders to see what they would not have seen, had they not stood on us.
We can all inspire when we realize that our success and achievements will not only bring encomiums and accolades to us alone, but also to those that would take cue from it and re-route their steps by emulating our encouraging deeds
A maxim reads: “The lantern hung on our window posts is not only to give light to our backyards; it is also to give hope to the hopeless traveler; that he has not lost his path yet.”
You too can inspire!
THE POLYMER NOTES: THE CHRONICLE, THE JOY AND THE PAIN
When the polymer banknote system was first introduced some few years ago into our financial system, precisely 2007, it won the hearts of many. We gave it our welcome claps and ovations, we were also agog for it. It gave a new look to our #20 naira note, as it was the first note that was first changed into polymer. It did not only give the said note refulgent beauty and peculiar uniqueness. It gave it a seemingly protection from the harsh handling that are used to handling our banknotes. How stark wrong were we proved to have been as time gets spent and our moral starved manner climbs down steeply from mountain of retardness to valley of deterioration.
At first, we thought nothing could make it wear a disgusting and irritating look. It was said that not even the moist that oozes from breasts cupped in tight bras, the suffocating heat that causes rashes to the scrotum carefully packed in pants or the way it is mangled, squeezed and tied at the tail of our wrappers would ever ‘diminish’ its facial value. We were later given a bitter concoction to gulp when the new polymer notes (#20) began to lose its colour from rough handedness; it faded in colour like a new dyed cloth would fade after its first dip in water.
The first time I saw this rare artistic work that our polymer note has turned out to be was in a commercial bus. I never thought it was the same #20 naira polymer banknote that was introduced some months ago. This happened after a short time from the date of its inception. I was more surprised when someone paid his fare with a faded and twisted #20 polymer note. The spittle in my mouth became so bitter that I could not swallow as I wrinkled my head at the attitude of indifference, which the bus conductor wore like an expensive garb when he collected it without hesitation or questioning the giver. He quickly inserted it into the avalanche of folded banknotes in his left hand, which included various banknotes of the country with amusing tenacity. I shrugged helplessly as it would be of no benefit if I raise a dust of contempt. I had been once told that you do not argue with a mad man when you are sane, if you do; the line of partition between sanity and insanity would be too thin to distinguish you from the mad man. No one I later thought would understand the hate I had for the wriggled called polymer. Everybody’s mind in the bus was differently fixed on where they were going. I later inferred that the conductor must have seen lots of the note in this degenerated state.
People were quick to shore up hope in the new polymer note, saying that it will still be able to stand the test of the abuse we give to it, inasmuch as it is cannot be torn-out like the other notes. It was paradoxical when the note began to come in different designs with different kind of cello-tapes, which was used to hold its torn sides of the notes together. People started wondering about the kind of technique that would have been involved to give it this new face. Some were quick to give a rejoinder that as brazen our bad manner could be exhibited with utter cruelty; the notes could have been subjected to different kind of destruction test to prove its validity. It was learnt that maiming the polymer note was an evil medium some clique have found to channel their grievances to the government for the obvious misappropriation which was involved in the polymer project. Their grouse was not unconnected with the statement issued by one government official, which nearly blighted the joy the polymer was received with. It read: ‘the money used in printing this note cost more than the monetary value of the note’. What a waste and another way monetary corruption has waltzed, the people thought.
Before other notes (#5, #10 and #50) joined the charade of polymer, it was very easy, as if one possess a magical wand, to feel the specific amount of money one is bringing out of one’s pocket without having to bring out the whole amount in your pocket, purse or wallet. This is done by feeling the plasticity of the #20 polymer note and making a quick count of the number that would commensurate with whatever you are parting away with in every transactions. The polymer gave an helping hand to professional lying. One could pretend to have brought the amount he all has while leaving others in his pocket in a swift groping. People who resent giving offerings to God in any religious gathering during offertory sessions, found solace in the polymer. For them, since the introduction of the new #20 naira polymer note, they could without stress of shoveling and rummaging through notes in their pockets, offer the bit they would like to give provided they could feel the plastic texture of the polymer.
It was praise, jubilation and celebration without end when #5, #10, and #50 followed suit in the modification of paper notes to polymer. It was be unbelievable to have heard that this so called change has turned into a pain in the necks of the citizenry. During a church service that I much remember, sadness was lighted on some peoples’ faces. It was later known that those that had formed it an habit of basking on the opportunity of the plasticity of the #20 naira polymer almost gave all what they have in their purses when notes of #50 naira were given as #20 without knowing. Retail traders have also got scarring experiences by this. Some, in a business rush-hour, had give #20 as #5 for a change to their customers, thinking they had given the right amount. They later discovered the magnitude of their woes when the money made during business time could not make for what was sold – what a pity!
At first, we thought nothing could make it wear a disgusting and irritating look. It was said that not even the moist that oozes from breasts cupped in tight bras, the suffocating heat that causes rashes to the scrotum carefully packed in pants or the way it is mangled, squeezed and tied at the tail of our wrappers would ever ‘diminish’ its facial value. We were later given a bitter concoction to gulp when the new polymer notes (#20) began to lose its colour from rough handedness; it faded in colour like a new dyed cloth would fade after its first dip in water.
The first time I saw this rare artistic work that our polymer note has turned out to be was in a commercial bus. I never thought it was the same #20 naira polymer banknote that was introduced some months ago. This happened after a short time from the date of its inception. I was more surprised when someone paid his fare with a faded and twisted #20 polymer note. The spittle in my mouth became so bitter that I could not swallow as I wrinkled my head at the attitude of indifference, which the bus conductor wore like an expensive garb when he collected it without hesitation or questioning the giver. He quickly inserted it into the avalanche of folded banknotes in his left hand, which included various banknotes of the country with amusing tenacity. I shrugged helplessly as it would be of no benefit if I raise a dust of contempt. I had been once told that you do not argue with a mad man when you are sane, if you do; the line of partition between sanity and insanity would be too thin to distinguish you from the mad man. No one I later thought would understand the hate I had for the wriggled called polymer. Everybody’s mind in the bus was differently fixed on where they were going. I later inferred that the conductor must have seen lots of the note in this degenerated state.
People were quick to shore up hope in the new polymer note, saying that it will still be able to stand the test of the abuse we give to it, inasmuch as it is cannot be torn-out like the other notes. It was paradoxical when the note began to come in different designs with different kind of cello-tapes, which was used to hold its torn sides of the notes together. People started wondering about the kind of technique that would have been involved to give it this new face. Some were quick to give a rejoinder that as brazen our bad manner could be exhibited with utter cruelty; the notes could have been subjected to different kind of destruction test to prove its validity. It was learnt that maiming the polymer note was an evil medium some clique have found to channel their grievances to the government for the obvious misappropriation which was involved in the polymer project. Their grouse was not unconnected with the statement issued by one government official, which nearly blighted the joy the polymer was received with. It read: ‘the money used in printing this note cost more than the monetary value of the note’. What a waste and another way monetary corruption has waltzed, the people thought.
Before other notes (#5, #10 and #50) joined the charade of polymer, it was very easy, as if one possess a magical wand, to feel the specific amount of money one is bringing out of one’s pocket without having to bring out the whole amount in your pocket, purse or wallet. This is done by feeling the plasticity of the #20 polymer note and making a quick count of the number that would commensurate with whatever you are parting away with in every transactions. The polymer gave an helping hand to professional lying. One could pretend to have brought the amount he all has while leaving others in his pocket in a swift groping. People who resent giving offerings to God in any religious gathering during offertory sessions, found solace in the polymer. For them, since the introduction of the new #20 naira polymer note, they could without stress of shoveling and rummaging through notes in their pockets, offer the bit they would like to give provided they could feel the plastic texture of the polymer.
It was praise, jubilation and celebration without end when #5, #10, and #50 followed suit in the modification of paper notes to polymer. It was be unbelievable to have heard that this so called change has turned into a pain in the necks of the citizenry. During a church service that I much remember, sadness was lighted on some peoples’ faces. It was later known that those that had formed it an habit of basking on the opportunity of the plasticity of the #20 naira polymer almost gave all what they have in their purses when notes of #50 naira were given as #20 without knowing. Retail traders have also got scarring experiences by this. Some, in a business rush-hour, had give #20 as #5 for a change to their customers, thinking they had given the right amount. They later discovered the magnitude of their woes when the money made during business time could not make for what was sold – what a pity!
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