Africa is an enchanting continent in terms of vegetation and topography. It is an intriguing one in terms of diversity. It is a warm one in terms of people and weather. It is a rich one in terms of nature’s endowments. It is a blessed one in terms of the absence of natural disasters. It is truly God’s own continent despite the swagger and precocity of the Americans in claiming that appellation. But, unfortunately, it is an abused and raped continent.

If there was one good news that broke with the new year, it was that of the stabilization of the President’s son from his near fatal accident. The preceding week must have been an anxious one for the President’s family. As a human being who believes that the death of one diminishes all, I feel for the President. As a parent who has raised a son through university with all that it entails, and I am not speaking of finance now, I empathise with him.

I will start the New Year with a couple of narratives. My favourite haunt is the place I play squash twice, three times a week. It is also a place I savour indulgences far beyond the exertions of squash. A few years back, two young women with similar, yet distinct circumstances frequented the club. They both at the time, had two children. Both were married but in name only as they carried the financial burdens of their homes. The husband of one had lost his job and was finding a ‘befitting job’ hard to get. The husband of the other had relocated abroad but ‘forgot’ to send back some dollars to feed his family.

This is one Christmas story that should never, ever be told again—by government, marketers, anyone

What are you doing at Christmas? This is a question which often comes with the yuletide season from lovers, spouses, friends, children, parents, family members, social and business associates. It starts as early as three months to Christmas, but gets more frequent as we get nearer Christmas. And the answers can be as varied as the persons asking.

The life of a columnist is calibrated in weeks. He is expected to bring fresh insights to happenings around him week after gruelling week even when history is repeating itself and the network stations are filled with bland news. Even the most gifted of columnists, those who can make something special out of the mundane sometimes feel uninspired if a week is filled with Déjà vu moments.

I got a call last month from one of my closest friends. The voice on the other end was quiet and subdued. His daughter and her husband had just left his place. They came to tell him they were relocating abroad at the end of the month. Their explanation for the short notice was that they were given only two weeks to tidy up their affairs or forfeit the chance. ‘Just like that? What about his job?’ was all I could say. ‘What about their jobs? They both have good jobs.’

How does our country compare with Sodom and Gomorrah?

Mugabe: The fall of the last man standing – Muyiwa Adetiba

The first time I saw keke Marwa as a means of mass transportation was in Bangkok, Thailand in 1989. I felt like a proper tourist, if not a native as I hopped from one motorcycle to another in search of cheap textile materials. I was apprehensive at first but I soon overcame my fear.

The death of Air Vice Marshall Olufunso Martins, known simply to many as OG was brought to me through a WhatsApp message on Sunday evening, less than twenty-four hours after the fatal accident happened. It was confirmed the following morning through a phone call.

Every position depends largely on the personality of the person occupying the position and the personality of the person who puts them there. There are those whose personalities overshadow those of their colleagues and even their bosses. There are those who ‘take over’ because they are forceful and hardworking while their bosses are hesitant and slothful.

An Afenifere chieftain gave an interview to a mainstream newspaper a couple of weeks ago in which he heaped all the so called suffering the Yoruba race was facing in Buhari’s government on one man. According to this chieftain, he had warned Asiwaju Bola Tinubu not to align with Buhari and lead Yoruba into what he inferred to be another northern domination.

A Professor wanted to teach his students what he called an important lesson of life. After the day’s lecture, he seated them and gave each student a sheet of paper. He asked them to crumble their sheets into hard balls. He then placed a basket near his table at the front of the room and asked them to throw the balls of paper into the basket. As to be expected, the rate of success depended mostly on the proximity to the basket.

Things you learn early in life hardly leave you. In fact, they influence the course of your life either for good or ill. I had an Editor during my early years in journalism who drummed certain ‘truths’ into my head which have influenced my practice of the profession. Two of them will suffice for the purposes of this discourse. First is that there is no story that cannot be cut; the skill is in the manner of cutting.