My World

Growing old and growing up, by Muyiwa Adetiba

Growing old and growing up, by Muyiwa Adetiba

My Priest celebrated his birthday in church last Monday. As to be expected of most small churches, the congregation celebrated the day with him. The favorable and celebratory tone of the tribute by his Associate Priest was also to be expected. However, a line struck me during the tribute. A line that applies, not just […]
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A season of love in a climate of hate

A season of love in a climate of hate

It is so, so easy to hate. Especially when we think somebody has hurt us or denied us what we believe we deserve. It agrees with our primordial instinct. It is also easy to seek revenge. And so when Moses talked about an eye for an eye, he was merely playing up what comes naturally to man. Even in the elevated world of international diplomacy, reciprocity is an accepted way of settling scores.

I am still to see the vision in visionscape

I am still to see the vision in visionscape

Speaking of vision, a thick, black smoke enveloped the air in the afternoon of last week Wednesday reducing visibility and making it almost ‘dark at noon.’ I was scared as thicker and darker smoke billowed. It seemed so close to home that I thought one of the factories next to ours had caught fire. I felt I needed to do something in case of eventualities but the sheer magnitude of the smoke made me feel helpless. So there was I, petrified and fidgety, until a worker told me it was not as near as I thought and was sure the authorities would have been aware because of the scale of the fire. It turned out to be true, but it was cold comfort at the time. Olusosun, one of the dumpsites of the Lagos State Government was on fire. On a good day, this site is less than five minute drive from my office in Oregun and just a few hundred meters by air. My worries were therefore not entirely unfounded.

Don’t they realise we are mourning?

Don’t they realise we are mourning?

Two young people solemnised their union in the ancient city of Kano last weekend. I rejoice with them and wish them a blissful marital life. It is always a joy to watch the power of love at play especially when it crosses boundaries and social strata. The love of Fatima and Idris may not have crossed the social or religious divide, but it does cross geographical and ethnic divides.

A reconciliator in need of reconciliation

A reconciliator in need of reconciliation

It’s not easy to spot a talent. In my recruiting days as Editor or Publisher, I often asked young writers to write about their partners. My aim was to see how well they could make their intimacy breathe on a blank piece of paper. I would want to see a turn of phrase, a play on words and a general ease with language that would show promise.