James Agazie Ed D

James Agazie Ed D

A retired college Professor  with educational backgrounds in law (JD) education (Ed.D, MA) counseling,( MS) and and mathematics.  Write on topics dealing with Nigerian families, marriages, education, and employment. 


Sunday, 15 October 2017 23:40

The Afrika Restaurant


This Is a true story of Dan Iloegbu who thought he had honest--to-goodness Nigerian friends. Names are changed to protect friends.  Dan’s  friends were Igbo and Yoruba men he grew up with in Lagos and with whom he drove taxi cabs in America. I have spent hours writing the story. It is left up to readers to guess the purpose of this essay and suggest what lessons, if any,  to learn therefrom.

Driving the Yellow Cab had been Dan’s main profession since he came to America in the late 80”s or early 90’s. He cannot remember the exact year of his arrival. Dan knew these friends from Lagos where they had been running together as a pack of hyenas. They made ends meet, perfecting the 419 and  eating at each other’s homes. Besides, they had  impregnated many of the Lagos loose women with empty promises. They had to leave Lagos and these girls behind in order to break new grounds ahead. Fast forward the story.  

Dan is now in New York with his old buddies. Dan drank hard and  partied hard and sometimes  delved into hard narcotics  as most cab and 18-wheeler drivers often do . Life was good and money was coming aplenty.  Dan’s friends were no riff-raffs they once were;  they set goals to achieve. First, they would quit driving Yellow Cab and decide they  must get into and own the private limousine company. Next , they bought some of the upscale New York homes for cash after years of Yellow Cabbing and 419. Their houses we posh, meaning ritzy, swish, and swank.

Next goals were bringing wives from home and raising some children. Dan sent invitation to his friends  to come to his home for his wedding anniversaries and christenings of his children. His children were born in rapid succession when money was good.  Dan continued to alternate  between evening college classes and driving cab and limousine even after he had bagged the MS in economics and the MS in public administration. Dan began settling down after he had bagged the  PhD in international  relations and administration.

Dr. Dan is a success story we hear of hardworking Igbo men. Dangota, as Dan Iloegbu was affectionately  known by his many friends around town, as Oke Dimkpa (strong man), the Oba of New York City, Chief Omemgbeoji 1 of Umunze in Anambra State. He was revered by all as far as being resourceful was concerned. Hardworking is a mild term  to describe my man. Dan was a broad-shouldered, proud Igboman .  Call him Nigerian, and Dan would immediately correct  you: “I’m Biafran!"

Dan reminds one of the Abakiliki yam farmer who makes any Igbo father as proud as a peacock at harvest. He is dark, big, ugly, and his wife and kids were equally large with obnoxious physical attributes. He was as strong as oxen.  What Dan did not have on a test of nma anu aru (bodily attractiveness ) he made up on  a test of ike okpukpu (bone or physical stamina).

Remove that hardworking exterior and njokiri anu aru (physical ugliness), and you would find Dr. Dan Dangota Iliegbu to be an okay man. He approached his work painstakingly. He was assiduous, marked by constant and devoted application to his business or enterprise; being diligent and punctilious, as a no-nonsense Igbo dude. Looking at the growing number of family mouths he has to feed and realizing he had to build a mansion in his village to convince folks he was not onye efukefu (prodigal).

Dan threw himself into work like akula obu onye ara (do not strike a mad man). He knew money was in short supply,  especially at this time of massive unemployment in Nigeria and the downsizing of government functions and closing of American factories where he and his friends sometimes  hang out after moonlighting as professional janitorial staff for extra food money, Dan hit upon an  idea at one of these moonlighting sessions.

Husband said to wife Uzoamaka: “Let’s open up African restaurant  around town.” Wife agreed.  “And, baby, let’s make it purely Nigerian with isi ewu (goat head), nkwobi, ukpaka, pepper soup bitteerleaf, okporoko, abacha, ofe nsala.”  Then Uzoamaka said: “Chi- mo. Dim oma” ( Oh, my God, my good husband).She quickly added ofe ogiri and ofe manu to the menu to appeal to her husband’s Igbo and Yoruba friends, respctively. Ofe Ogiri is the strong foul smelling seasoning made from fermented beans   Ofe manu  is the oily stuff the Yorubas love till Thy Kingdom Come.

Husband and wife quickly agreed. Smart Dan and Dutiful Uzoamaka were not schooled in Igbo -ology nor did they study Yoruba trickonomy. They never understood or dealt with the lies, trickery, and anya ukwu (big eyes or greed) of their fellow Nigerians. What about the anya ufu (envy, bad heart) of Nigerians? They forgot the aghugho (trickery) of the Yorubas. Why did they forget that Awolowo led Ojukwu into Bafra War and later backed out when the going was rough?

As hardworking and cooperative with his wife as Dan Dangota Iloegbo is, Uzoamaka’s Isi Ewu African Restaurant (named after his loyal wife) was opened one Monday morning. On grand opening day, come and see the massive support of Igbo community, plus the big do-da of the Yoruba guys and babes.

Taxi drivers, students, Igbo professionals, and white men who had done some work in Nigeria, were all there, chopping, licking five fingers dipped in ogbono soup,  and swaying thick waists as the High Life music blasted and guests  bellowed , yelled, bawled, and, hollered. The owambe dance  caught fire.

To make the occasion sweet and memorable, Dan and Uzoamaka reduced food prices so low: $2 for pepper soup, nkwobi, ga rri with onugbu or egusi, or okra soup made with large pieces of goat and hen. Free soda flowed like a river. Don’t even mention intoxicating drinks.

Someone yelled,: “Dan, nwokem (my man Dan), you need to supply some beers at this restaurant. Odi egwu. Igbo Kwenu!” One rough  looking taxi driver seconded: “Yeay, yeah. Odi egwu. Kwezue nu!”

Dan made a serious mistake: he counted on deceitful friends to support his wealth-growing ventures. As cheap as the menu was, Dan was shocked when his friends wouldn’t pay, and sometimes argued with management about the cost of pounded yam. “It’s too costly,” some said.  “I don’t have money now; why don’t I pay you tomorrow?” Some asked , knowingly fully well there was a sign that says “NO CREDIT” hanging on the wall in front of them. Some customers feigned ignorance, or illiteracy. Some said they never saw the sign. A few burly Igbo customers threatened to fight Dan and hurt him if he continued to insist there was no credit.

A distant cousin of Dan  said: “Fuck you, and I’ll kick your stinky ass.” Dan’s best friend from his village  said: “You are talking and eating shit  because of this lousy food  Come on, fellows. Let’s get the fuck out of this fucking place.” Others thought of a sinister plan to close their friend’s business. Igbo-ology means  eating with your friends with a long spoon and clearing your escape route behind with a sharp machete, The Yoruba man says:   “Wayo man die-o-, wayo man buryam-o.”

As Uzoamaka’s  Isi Ewu African Restaurant grew  in popularity and revenue, so did open and secret enemies. Dan and wife added delivery service which Dan ran while picking and dropping passengers with his Yellow Cab.   A Naija physician who ate at the grand opening was pleased and wondered if his wife could to cook from Uzoamaka who appeared so humble and obedient to Dan her husband.

As resourceful as the Igboman he was, Dan added beers of various flavors, without first obtaining license),   including popular Heinekens, bitter Guinness Stout, stomach-bloating Nigerian Golden Guinea, and cheap American watery  stuff .Life was sweet and good.

Uzoamaka’s Isi Ewu  African Restaurant blossomed and became packed at night and on weekends. So-called friends, like Mr. Judas Iscariot, went to police and told on their friend. They revealed  all  their friend’s business secrets to the police.

They said to Police: “That African man  thinks he is smart. He sells beer without  a license, and he delivers marijuana with his Yellow Cab, and brings marijuana into town with his 18 wheeler We know akwunakwunas (prostitutes) operate there as waitresses.”

Police raided Uzoamaka’s Isi Ewu African Restaurant. They searched the Yellow Cab for drugs. They confiscated Uzoamaka’s  Isi Ewu African Restaurant business license. They queried Dan and his employees. Finally, police quenched Dan’s  right to operate the restaurant. Uzoamaka had bags of tears under her eyes for weeks. Dan cried to his friends for rescue. No one comes by to say: “Hi” anymore. No man or woman.

Written by Dr. James C. Agazie; This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. ; jamesagazies.blodspot.com



Saturday, 07 October 2017 15:50

Where Do Men Go To Find Their Women/Wives?


The Good Book says "whoever finds a good wife finds a good thing"

Women are losing good men in large numbers as you can see

Men are finding good women in unlikely places

Ask yourself: where do happily married men go to find partners?

They don’t go to beer parlors, houses of prostitution, nor crack joints

Which types of women are men attracted to nowadays?

Men seek the worshipping type you find in unsuspecting places

Why worshipping types and unsuspecting places?

Men want to stay alive and away from stressed and early graves

Men seek the adoring, loving, revering, adulating

Women in demand are deifying, endearing, and praying

Men seek the humble women unscarred by fortune and fame

They seek women like the Chinese, Filipino, Koreans, Mexicans

Women men want are the humble, worshipping types

Men don’t go to beer parlors, prostitutes, or drugs

Men go to beauty parlors to women who are in humble occupations

Who submissively wash feet, cut finger and toe nails of husbands

Scratching dandruffs off dry hair, consoling, empathizing

These are not the women Nigerian women want to imitate

They are those whom Nigeria women ignored and listened not to

Please listen to this gym trainer tell a story to me, you and our women 

Charles is his name, and he is a good gym trainer

 Known by the growing numbers of his clients

A young man weighed down with marital burdens came to Charles

Listen to Charles lecture this young married man

Who was complaining about his estranged wife

“My wife is highly demanding of me, rude and uninviting

The words ‘thank you’, and ‘please’ are not in her vocabulary”

After Trainer Charles was done with his regular paying customers  he stopped

Stopping after training was necessary to devote to other pressing concerns

It gave the complaining young man time to get heavy stuff off his chest

“My wife is not friendly, nor understanding, nor patient; doesn’t listen ”

An excellent trainer is Charles,  and he has heavy muscles and strong biceps.

People come to him to lose weight, strengthen muscles, flatten bellies

Charles’ clients come from all works of life and of all ages and all races.

He is nice and smiles a lot from ear to ear, all smiling teeth showing

Which undoubtedly give Charles a magnetic persona and physique

That pull customers  as fluttering bees drawn to the yellow sunflower

Charles paces the gym floor as Sunflower with rechecher, a rare choice

With lavish elegance, a studied exquisiteness,  excessive refinement

He genuinely cares for women and is a husband of one wife

His smiles and physique, for sure, fetch Charles lots of persons to train.

Wednesday afternoons, Charles pastors a church at the gym

I overheard Charles lecture man who was complaining about his wife.

His wife, the young man said, is rude, unappreciative, and demanding

She demands of his money and time; doesn’t care; seems to not love him

The word appreciation is not in her vocabulary; affection seems foreign

And she is not friendly, understanding, nor patient, nor a good listener

When Charles opens his mouth, choicest words of wisdom and care flow out :

This is Charles the trainer speaking words of amam ihe (wisdom)

“Troubles with today’s women and wives are many

They are as numerous as fish in the sea

Today’s women seem to not care anymore

As much as  their mothers once did

They care only for money for themselves and no one else

They are the receivers, not givers or sharers

Society educates women wrongly to be as independent as the men

Women are educated out of marital wisdom and never like their mothers

Where do successful men go to find loving wives?

A woman with money or education feels like “I don’t need your shit.”

A woman men don’t want is like “ I know and have it all.”

Men go for the humble, caring, submissive, and downtrodden

To find love, comfort, support, peace, and understanding


Thursday, 28 September 2017 05:42

A Tribute to Nnamdi Kanu


Such is the nature of an idea whose time has come

It is borne in the heart and hardly dies a true death

A woman cries out: “Where’s the body of my brother?”

There is a deafening silence as the nation sleeps uneasily

Dead or alive, the body of Nnamdi was award-winning

He’s only a lad whose message has consuming urgency

Enemies prized him above rubbles, above the Constitution

That governs the sacred  land bisected by three rivers

A lawyer cries: “Your Honor, I beseech you entreatingly

Order the Captn’s boys to produce my client in this Court

Stlll, there was rancorous  silence

At last. the pythons went home joltingly

Congratulating the Captain, the shooters:

Intone:“Mission Accomplished. Sir”

“Really, we did it, boys, didn’t we?”

Was Captain’s jubilatory chutzpah, effrontery

My soul  cries: “Fools, they are, aren’t they?

They cannot kill an idea with a gun

Nor trap the wind with a spider’s web”

Nor convict for  murder without a body

You cannot kill an idea with a bullet, can you?

There are better ways for Captain to annihilate

One, incline ears with the patience of Job

You are in the business of persuasion

Not with barrels of the cannons filled with steel balls

Not with guns fitted with bonnet smelling of gunpowder

Gone are the armamentaria days of old

When a soldier shoots, slits and asks questions later

Two, infiltrate the group with healthier ideas

The fastest way to harvest corn is to destroy it

If you kill the kernel by burial in earth’s bowels

It rises in hundred-fold, thousand-fold, millions

Consider the quest  for referendum

Does a government silence voices to the nth generation? 

Can a government Kill the quest through fragmentation

Infinitesimally in small particles?

Consider the old rugged cross

Where a man spreads agonizing arms across

In an it-is-finished mockery surrender

Only to take the world as if by cataclysmic storm

 Never thought possible by all estimation

Doth not the bones rise again from a lifeless state

In the valley of bleached, dry Bones?

You’ve heard the minstrel sing: Okpukpu ga adi ndi ozo

And The Boys Brigade in khaki strut, gyrate, burst in song

One, two, and three, the bones shall rise again

Indeed, they shall augument, intensify, upsurge

invariably, perpetually, till oge mgbe ebighi ebi

Didn’t they slaughter 300 IPOB officers in the Sixties

Dragged charred Aguiyi Ironsi behind a vehicle

Gutted babes out of 100,000 pregnant women

And burned bodies that didn’t fit in gwongwolo

As if  that was not sufficient to abate maddening frenzy

They filled Suburban trains with decomposing bodies

From Kafanchan, Taraku, Oturkpo going to Enugu

They sent Paulina’s mother home down East

With the beheaded head of Apollos, Paulina’s father

Though 70-year-old Paulina has seen it all

A day before he fell to Kanu’s bullets

The 28-year-old grandson said to 70-year –old Paulina:

“I’d rather have discussions without government

Than government without discussions”

Such is the nature of an idea whose time has come




The Arewa Boys are mistaken to lump all Ndiigbo in a bundle and pass them off as deplorable undesirables. I am Igbo, and I sometimes  dislike some of the things my fellow Igbo people do. While I admire Ndiigbo as a hard-working tribe, I dislike bip (pronounced B-E-E-P, meaning bad Igbo people). I do dislike some of my people  very intensely for many reasons.

The purpose of this essay is to state categorically that Ndiigbo are responsible for their predicament in Nigeria.  This explains why the bad Igbo people have earned the title "the most   reprehensible, blameworthy, and antisocial  persons." Igbos are not the  unwittinly innocent victims of other people's  evil machinations; they are the architects of their misfortune and objects of national ridicule.

The purpose of this essay is to paint the Igbos with the true color in order to help them change selves. The truth is that Igbos are everything  that has nothing to do with goodness.  The Igbos can and ought to change.You may say to me: "Why this sudden change of attitudes towards your own Igbo people? You used to love them, didn't you? Are you Igbo?"  Igbos need to swallow the bitter pills of truth from time to time. You ask: "Are you truly Igbo and why are you attacking your people?"

I am nwafor Igbo (naturally born Igbo man), from the State of Anambra, in one of the best premier Local Governments. I am  what you may call ezigbo Onye Igbo (true Igbo person). I used to love Igbos until they betrayed me.  Being Igbo doesn't prevent me from criticizing  other Igbos. You criticize people you love. A loving father is expected to discipline a cherished  child.  I criticize who I love because I want him or her to be better, more palatable, less disappointing.   We are each other's keepers. Doesn't iron sharpen iron? If you don't understand that, you  are Igbo hater and need to wisen up.

Surely, Igbos are naturally bad.  Igbos were once gods in this writer's private world, but are now becoming increasingly devilish.  Didn't some Igbos drug pushers  murder some  church members at Ozubulu Catholic  Church in Anambra to show their badness as a sacrilege? A sacrilege is  a blaspheme, irreverence, disrespect, profanity. It is an insult to God the Creator of all lives, isn't it?

My God is ashamed  for creating the murderous  Anayamirins . Can anything good come out of Anyamirin land? Can Igboman justifiably destroy what he did not create? Ndiigbo are bad in the sense  they love money to the extent that nothing else on earth matters more.

The Igbos  would love you when you praise them, butter their bread on both sides with the smear of dishonesty, deceit, lies, falsehood, fabrication, mendacity, deception. Tell igbos they are good, and you become their bosom friends forever and ever. Tell them the truth like "you are bad and you eat too much, drink too much beer, and fuck each others' wives too often."  What happens? They would crucify you upside down  no osisi obe nenwu oku (on a wooden, burning cross).

The truth is this: Igbos are a very  bad people If you live among and can understand  how  Igbos' warped mindset works. Ever wonder why Igbos are suffering in Nigeria ?  One Igbo man stopped me in front of Walmart  to ask me a perplexing  question: "Why are our people so bad? I asked Edward Okoye (I believe that was the name his father gave him) the same question.

Edward perplexes me with a perplexing question  while I stood perplexed  in front of Walmart under the August scorching, sizzling, blazing, sweltering, blistering, and baking late August sun's  heat. I was perplexed. To be perplexed , is to be confused, at a loss, mystified, confounded, baffled, thrown, or bewildered. This essay answered some of Edward's questions. Ndiigbo are bad because badness is in the blood of Ndiigbo.

Some Ndiigbo have  robbed  you, disappointed you, wounded you, and left  you perplexed. Other  Ndiigbo members of your family have done you a great wrong in that while you re attempting to be a model family member who is naively trusting, accepting  and loving of my people,  your fellow siblings have stabbed you in the back and robbed  you from my blind spot. Isn't it  bad when you are afraid of your own family?

When you were naïve, inexperienced, raw, trusting, immature, green as apple, something like a naïve man you were,  your family members told others you were  a bloody fool, yet  you are a wise man without whose help your  nieces and nephews would not have graduated  from universities and opened businesses. Who knows if Chineke (God of Ndiigbo) has kept you alive so you can continue to be blessings to others?

Some Ndiigbo people  are predatory in that they are voracious, greedy, rapacious, and grasping, insulting, disappointing, and waiting  to kick my flat ass in order to suck out the last kobo. Sometimes, they are so uncaring they would  bury  a living blood relation alive, just to have a funeral . They would  leave a relative gasping for air while the relative is perplexed, and scared stiff. Igbos can be pernicious. Sometimes this writer wonders if there is any benefit in belonging to the tribe.

Some Ndiigbo people  can be bad, awfully terrible , dreadfully appalling, shockingly horrific, and ghastly inhumane and horrific. They are perspicacious, suggesting a special keenness and ability to cause harm. There is no end to the appellations descriptive of Ndiigbo.

Are you surprised to read this from this writer who  has  been penning some good stuffs about my Igbo people because they are my people,  because they gave birth to me, because I speak their language, think as they do, and surprisingly (shockingly) behave as they do.

I could not help painting the Igbos with a broad brush and strokes  of immaculate praise and depicting Igbos in sketches that are glorious, full of tall tales of conquests that are wonderful, splendid, marvelous, celebrated, superb, impressive, fabulous, famous, heroic, and herculean, which suggests the superhuman size and strength of Greek god  Hercules. All these have been in the past before I shed the cloak of immaturity. Ndiigbo are a bad specimen of humanity.

I love being a child of Igbo parents. To me, being Igbo is epoch-making. Call it unreal, childish, puerile, infatuation, rubbish, lacking of seriousness or good judgment.  Sometimes, I scratch my head and pinch  my butt. when  my soul says: "Dianyi, were nwayo. Ina ekwu eziokwu?" ( My friend, take it easy. Are you being truthful?. The Igbos perplex beyond measures for they are more devilish than godly. They are bamboozling. I have to remind myself constantly: "You cannot lose faith in your people"

My love affair with the Igbos has taken a terrible beating. The Igbos like it when you speak something flowerily about them  or spread a tale that is spuriously fictional, fictitious, fastidious, or fabulous  about them , when you kiss their anyamirin ass, and when you inflate their sickening  ego just as you would pump up a flat tire with ikuku (air), provided the air is compressed lies, and you did the pumping with an object rather than the mouth you eat foo-foo with.

Many Igbos have the capacity to fill their stomachs up with so much deceits/falsehoods, they become constipated. Many Igbos  often steal from close family members because  they are full of excessive greed and envy of neighbors whose bank accounts have an extra  Naira. Igbos are fixated on material possessions. Fixation is a psychological term meaning the Igbos often go after and are immersed in something like wealth. Igbo fixation with money is not an unusual obsession; it is fascination, mania, addiction , or compulsive passion.

Ndiigbo are so fixated on money it seems they stop growing and become transfixed, motionless, as If suspended in midair at the sight or smell of Naira. They stop moving as a result of surprise, shock, interest, amazement, awe, terror that comes from the sight or smell of currency. Why? That's the kind of power money has on Ndiigbo, including wealth's centrifugal and centripetal forces.

Many Igbos cannot work together as the Hausas and Yorubas do, and when the Igbos do work cooperatively, some idiotic Igbo chairman or secretary carries the money belonging to the group and vamooses. To vamoose is slang, meaning to hurry away as some boorish scoundrels. These are the thieves or one-eyed bandits  you find in President Buhari's  cabinet and Ndiigbo governor's mansions. Ndiigbo can be not just bad; they are  treacherous.

And when an Igbo steals, he doesn't  just  pinch or pilfer. He carries not just some, but all of the goodies, including the money bags and financial statements  so you cannot trace anything, leaving nothing to chance.  While stealing, the Igbo thief gallops at 770 mps ( miles per second  in a zone marked for 10 yards. A thief runs fast when no man pursues. Some enterprising Igbos ransack the entire department and burn down the building so that no accountant can trace what actually happened.

It seems that some Igbos cannot organize themselves into a viable group with one voice for political purpose. Igbo voices are clamorous, boisterous, obstreperous, and vociferous. The four adjectives describe something obtrusively loud, noisy, rowdy, and disorganized. Ndiigbo talk so mush the police can easily round up the criminals in one swoop.

Consider a situation where one enterprising Igboman named  Chief Obioma comes out to run for  Nigerian political office . Watch hell break loose! When the majority of Obioma 's fellow Igbos are in the running, pulling Obioma down and questioning his backgrounds and  qualifications. The confusion gives  the Northern hegemony time to collecting millions of Naira, not to support  Chief Obioma, but to bribe  him or his opponents  so he would abandon his political ambitions.

Selfish and greedy as most Igbos are, Chief Obioma is more likely to take Hausa money and disappear to the village than be is true to himself and his willingness to serve his community. Money rules the Igbo conscience more than integrity or truthfulness.

Obioma's Village advisors would urge  Chief Kanoye: " Oga, please  pick the bags of Hausa Naira from Kaduna and let's head home to the village in Anambra before our people rob us kpatakpata." There would be a party awaiting Chief Kanoye  upon his return to his secluded village in the East. If you believe this scenario to be true , you are  not only right but you have hit the nail on the head. Nigerians do not take the Igbos serious; some say Igbos are play toys to be manipulated arbitrarily as yoyo's. Money is the thing that kills many Igbos dead as rat poison does  "nkakwu" (Igbo for ugly rats with long mouths).

Someone asks: "Why can't Nigeria have an Igbo President? " The best answer to this is this: How can wild animals have a king over them? Have you been to a kingdom where there is one government led by  Super Lion assisted by many other equally fearsome super King Lions in the bush or have you gone to lunch with two or three captains of the same soccer team? Aren't you looking for palaver when you organize a birthday party for your daughter and twenty hefty male rapists show up?

Come to think of it, Yorubas would riot and throw themselves into Lagos lagoon if you come up with the suggestion that Lagos  should have two Obas of Lagos. The Pope would abdicate  his position as head of the Catholic Church upon hearing rumors that there are two Virgin Mary's. Christianity as we know it today would come to an end if there were two Saviors  named Jesus Christs.   For Igbos, it is one soccer team with a dozen captains. Come to think of it, the Igbos are so aggressive they get nothing done. They keep producing bees without producing honey. The Igbos  are good at destroying  the beehive with billowing , fluttering, smoldering smoke.

The purpose of this essay is to expose my people for what they are without beating about the bush. Exposing Igbos can perhaps make Igbo modify their behavior, do better job of being humbler , more  organized in order to rid themselves of excessive shit. The Igbos  do not like for you to wash their akpa nsi (bags of shit)  in the public, and that's why they appear in public with all manners of bogus titles like Chief Ogbu Agu (killer of lions) or Lolo Adaeze Igwe(Madam the Queen of Heaven).

Not all Igbos are bad.  A handful of rotten eggs can turn the whole  bunch as rotten as effluvium . Some  Igbo are bad.  That's for sure. And , if you want them to like you, you must  own several bicycle pumps with which  to inflate their egos to two or three times their normal sizes. The Igbos are so bad they cherish being continually praised when all is said and done. To Praise is when you admire Igbos, commend Igbos, extol or honor Igbos, eulogize or congratulate Igbos, pay tribute to then , or go extra miles, and be in raptures over these people.Though Igbos love the praises of men, yet Igbos are very undeservedly vain  in that the Igbos are subhuman  at evolutionary  development stage regarded as not being fully human .

We are saying the Igbos are not good,  and we mean it in all sincerity and with every fiber of our beings. However, they Igbos do not like feeling good when good stuffs are ascribed to others as when the umpire hands  a badge of honor or Olympic gold medals to Yoruba or Fulani winners  in wrestling matches and the Igbo is not one of the winners. So long as Ndiigbo are unaware of their handicaps, the presidency of Nigeria shall continue to  elude them, and they shall continue to lose grounds inexorably, unavoidably, and ubiquitously.

For  instance, this writer penned an essay which the Igbos loved to death. The title of the essay was The Igbos Are Gods. This essay written about a week ago had garnered 500 readers almost instantaneously.  But Igbos need to hear the truth once in a while.

By Dr. James C. Agazie, This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. ; jamesagazies.blogspot.com

Monday, 21 August 2017 10:56

If Money Is worthless, Why Die For It?

The idea of this essay comes from a book  this writer  saw a Korean man read while we were sitting beside  each other in a Jumbo airplane,  travelling  from America to China in 2013. I am sitting in this very large airplane beside this smallish Korean national who has a book in his hands. The front page of the book is written in the manner a chicken does with its legs as it scratches the ground to find food. The letters on the covers and inside the book are incomprehensible, meaning you cannot make a head or tail of the damned thing. I can recognize just one sentence written in English in bold letters at the very bottom of the front cover. It says: "WHAT MONEY CAN'T BUY."  All the  pages in the book are filled with chicken scratches.

I say to the Korean, a total stranger sitting beside me:  May I take a look at your book for a few moments? The Korean ignores me because we aren't speaking the same language.  Unable to contain my curiosity much longer, I waited a little longer until the Korean rested his head on the head rest and then placed the book in back jacket of the seat in front of him. I reached for the book and pulled it out from a seat 's  jacket, where  it lay on top of other equally scratched up magazines in front of the Korean man.  The Korean ignores me, says nothing,  knowing too well we are on a 18-hour flight from America to China, and there is no way on God's earth  I could steal the book nor understand  the contents. I am asking for what does not make sense, asking for a thing that doesn't add meaning to existence.

I take an eager look inside the book, and immediately become frustrated. My frustration comes from  knowing  nothng, and from  realizing  how little I know of life,  how little I know about money. My mind goes back to the essay I wrote a few months ago entitled WHO OWNS THIS MONEY? Then, I decide to engage this Korean in an uneasy discussion, Please tell me some of the stuffs money cannot buy.  He shakes his head from side to side and nodded up and down with a smile to indicate he doesn't understand or speak English. We were total strangers born in different parts of God's earth.

I want to ask this Korean: "WHAT CAN'T MONEY BUY FOR ME OR YOU?" To me, the question is urgent and pressing. I need an answer right then, however trivial and feeble. It then hit me: Money can buy absolutely nothing. You may just say: Money can't buy anything that is  substantial. A thing is substantial if it is important, significant, consequential, or considerable. I can hear some readers heckle: (A) Money can buy food, clothes, vehicles, houses, or shelters; (B) Money can buy weapons of war with which we obtain greater wealth from people in possession of oil, metals, and things that convert easily to money.

This essay is purposed to underscore a problem that is destroying and  eating away the very fabric of life in my country.. We need to underline, highlight, emphasize, accentuate, and stress the fact that Nigeria and Nigerians are dying from  a problem  that is killing both the  old and young, from our leaders in the three branches of the Nigerian governance  to the child hawking  akara balls on the streets. The problem is  progressing rapidly and assuming  an epidemic significance. The problem is earth-shattering, worse than an invasion and eventual conquest by armies  of foreign nations.

The problem is Nigerians' untoward attitude that is unpleasant, problematic, and improper. How do we begin to explain why three young  Nigerians should be languishing for a total of 235 years after they were extradited from South Africa to Mississippi, USA,   for allegedly participating in international scam. These Nigerians received unbelievably stiff jail sentences.  Oladimeji  Seun  Ayelotan, 30, was handed 95 years in prison. Rasaq Aderoju Raheem, 31, was given 115 years in prison, and Femi Alexander Mewase, 45, was handed 25 years in prison.

The sentences  were handed out after a three-week trial in early 2017, where a U S federal jury found each defendant guilty of several offenses including mail fraud, wire fraud, identity theft, credit card fraud and theft of government property. Additional charges were conspiracies to commit bank fraud and money laundering.

Can money authenticate or  repair these young Nigerian men's inauthentic  lives or replace years wasted away in a dungeon? Will money  ( ego in Igbo; kwudi in Hausa; owo in Yoruba) validate, confirm, or substantiate our wasted existence? Surely, it cannot bring back the lives of babies murdered at Ozubulu Catholic Church by seekers of money?  Alas, the  babies did not even know  what the bullets shattering  their bodies were all about. Little did they realize that the guns and bullets were not toys Daddy buys from K-Mart.

Can money buy, delay, or rush time? Can it disfigure the universe so I can leave New York one night and be at Lagos, Nigerian a day earlier? Can money make it possible for a favorite uncle who died in 1975 to come visit today and witness my metamorphosis, transformation, or transmutation of his village?   What exactly can money buy for you or me that nothing else can buy? Nothing! Zero! Zilch! Nought! Nonentity!

The longer we think about the value of money, the more we are convinced that money is more of a curse than a blessing. Look around you and observe the level of poverty, hatred, waste, death, envy and misery that we can justly attribute to money or as originating from money. The men I grew up with are all dead victims of money. They'd splash stolen money in unimaginable ways you thought they would not die.

Money does lots of meaningless things.  If you mention food, clothes, vehicles, vacation time and wartime as things money can buy, then I would ask you:  Aren't these things luxuries that do not add anything to life other than your  journey  from your mother's womb;  to the dining table,  to the toilet and finally to the grave in a borrowed attire? Where is the list of things money can buy that are not ephemeral, meaning short-lived, transient, passing, fleeting, brief, momentary,  rather than  lasting ?  Read to the end of this essay to find out.

Money is meaningless.  A thing is not meaningless  if it is  carrying great weight, is momentous, or  having an important effect. The question of what money can and cannot buy is a persistent one in the light of the disservice that money is doing to the human race in general and to Nigeria in particular, bearing in mind the dishonor people who have or lack money are doing to themselves. We are compelled to wager that money is an insubstantial, insignificant, worthless  piece of paper. We conclude  that:

Money cannot buy God, or  life, (the state of not dying from disease, old age, or accident).

Money cannot buy peace, love, respect, justice, being law abiding, or decency.

Money cannot buy commonsense, fairness, fair dealing, equality, or freedom from mental enslavement.

Money cannot buy weapons  to prevent human annihilation by the wicked.

Money cannot buy hope, salvation from fear, or freedom from old age and  eventual death.

Money cannot buy me; I don't know about you.

Money cannot buy anything we can be satisfied with without needing more.

By Dr. James C. Agazie; This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. ; jamesagazies.blogspot.com



Tuesday, 08 August 2017 17:44

Life Is A Big Nothing

Enyim (my dear friend, fellow Nigerian), you're nothing. Are you nothing or are you nothing  for nothing? You  are both nothing  and nothing for nothing  if you 're waiting for your house to fall apart, go to the wrack and ruin,  collapse, break up, disintegrate, go to inferno because you haven't stolen your millions as many Nigerian politicians have done before you,

The purpose of this essay is to talk about nothing. Nothing.  Nothing.  And nothing. That's what life is all about.  Nothing. What is the purpose of our life?  What is the value? Why are my fellow travelers and I doing these cruel things on earth? Isn't it true that  we live briefly on earth, acquire  a few possessions, marry someone we think we love, produce some children, die at a certain age, and be buried somewhere in the earth?

If you have lived long enough on this earth, you would find ample pieces of evidence to convince yourself and others that uwa nkaa (Igbo for this earthly life) is nothing. Cruelty implies that our earth  is  brutal, merciless, pitiless, vindictive, nasty, malicious, spiteful, or simply mean?

Do you need downright ugly pieces of baloney to convince you that life (lie) is nothing?  Here they are. Some men creep into the Catholic church in Ozubulu, Anambra, and mowed down 50 lives because there's  a festering  feud between two families. Buhari  spends nights in cozy beds  in a lighted London hospital while Emeka, Adedeji, and Haruna are being eaten alive by mosquitoes in a tenement near city open gutters. Let's sing at the top of our lungs this writer 's song about nothing:

Life is empty and meaningless.   And it's empty and meaningless.

That it's empty and meaningless is nothing new

Hoping that it will mean something someday is illusory nothing

You can multiple anything with zero and you get  the same zero

Nothing is nothing is nothing; and  there's nothing.

You're nothing; I'm nothing and we're nothing

You may take it to your bank and cash it, and you get Nothing

The purpose of the instant essay  is to dwell  on that which  has  always been there but is unknown to millions of people.  This life is nothing and means nothing. Life is nothing,  meaning  life does not amount to anything. It is zero, zilch, naught, nonentity. You and I are nobody.

In Macbeth , Scene V, line 19, William Shakespeare  laments:

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

George Bernard Shaw's quote on True Joy of Life, says:

"This is the true joy in life — being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."

You, dear fellow Nigerians, are you nothing or are you nothing  for nothing? You  are both nothing  and nothing for nothing  if you 're waiting for your house to fall apart, go to the wrack and ruin,  collapse, break up, disintegrate, go to inferno because you haven't stolen your millions as many Nigerian politicians have done before you,

By Dr. James C. Agazie, This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. ; jamesagazies.blogspot.com


The Nigerian politicians are something else . The Speaker of the Kano  House of  Assembly has resigned amidst allegations of bribery to influence investigation. It is reported that pandemonium broke out at the Kogi House of Assembly as hoodlums invaded a meeting of Kogi  legislators to beat up corrupt politicians.

This writer has just been assaulted by a caller because of the behavior of some of our Nigerian leaders, including  Alhaji Dangote, Emir Sanusi, and Alhaji Kabiru). I believe this caller is frustrated by the behavior of  Nigerian  leaders. She says she is US practicing woman attorney (whom I shall only refer as Attorney).

I am asking (rather demanding) that all misbehaving Nigerian office holders resign their positions prompto, including businessman Alhaji Dangote whom I have held up to be honest and who seems to have shady character in the use his ill-gotten wealth from monopoly to corrupt our politicians.

A woman called me to embarrass me,  identifying herself as a mother.  She said she had her undergraduate  education in Nigeria  and clinched a law degree from  Northwestern University. What started as a friendly chat soon degenerated to rude, dogged cross examination. She asked me: "What are you people doing?" I am not in Nigeria and definitely not a politician.

The  manner Attorney fired her questions relentlessly at me made me feel guilty of just writing about Igbos as bad people and forgetting Muslim politicians who hide behind Islamic religion to inflict pains on my fellow Nigerians, perpetrate crimes,  and  force me to drink impure water and travel on rough roads each time I vacation in my country .

I reckoned Attorney was feeling  justified to attack me for protecting Muslim politicians, particularly Emir Sanusi,  Alhaji Kabiru and Alhaji Dangote, while lampooning the Igbos. Why was this woman attacking me, seeing that I am not Muslim nor do I know any of these corrupt Alhajis.

Besides, I do  not like  getting into fights with women because they can get so rude your ego is bruised beyond repair, and if you are standing beside a woman and arguing, you don't  know what she might pull out of her massive handbag and throw at you. My cell phone rang and I picked up . What followed was so animated it was breathtaking.

ATTY: I hear you write a lot about Igbo thieving politicians and businesspeople?  What are you now writing?

ME:  About women like you who come to marry Nigerian Americans under false pretenses only to obtain Green Cards and them leave the men broken hearted.

ATTY: Haha! Whatever. I'm concerned  about a  Nigerian about  whom you all and the Nigeria newspapers make so much noise. I read it said that this man is the richest in the whole of Black Africa.

ME : Do you mean Alhaji Dangote, the business mogul?

ATTY; Yes. That's he. Who's he in the first place? Where does he get all that money and how is it that  when the Nigerian Government is running out of money and the citizens are languishing in poverty, Dangote is throwing money around? Who are his financiers? Where does he obtain  all that money I hear he has?

ME; Ma'am, I don't know all the answers. But I reckon he's well connected to the Government—

ATTY: And bribing all of our politicians?

ME: Like I said, I don't know all about that. However, l shall read more on him to find out more. Is that okay?

ATTY: Yes, read more! Doesn't Dangote look like a stupendous case of monopoly? Why is nobody talking about him? Does Nigerian allow a monopoly to dominate the entire country? Does Nigerian have laws against monopoly? Would this happen in the United States or Great Britain where laws are in place, where no man controls everything from cement, sugar, even rice  and other commodities?  To whom is Dangote accountable? Is he a government unto himself? Is he a sacred cow, a one-eyed man in the nation of the totally blind?

The purpose of this essay is to ask ALL MISBEHAVING Nigerian elected office holders to resign their positions to demonstrate they are untainted with the corruption virus (CV). We need to replace hundreds of "putrid eggs". Putrid means that these ignorant politicians are rotten, rotting, decomposed, decomposing, decaying, decayed, fetid, rancid, and morally bankrupt.

Rotten politicians are known to (1) be uneducated; (2) wife abusers; ( 3) in possession of fake diplomas; (4) waste our resources on prostitutes; (4) incapable of living under laws they pass; and (5) are bad role models for impressionable Arewa youth. Nigerians ought to agree with this writer that the elections scheduled in 2019 should be postponed indefinitely until we do some homework with rotten office seekers. Our homework will be to recall or vote out rotten politicians.

We say recall or vote out for two reasons. First, with all due respect to President Buhari as a person, fighting corruption is a war Buhari cannot possibly win because he is too weak and laying  ill in hospital beds in far-away London  Secondly, Nigerian elected officials are, without exception, infected with acute kleptomaniacs, making winning a war against dishonesty fanciful. To be fanciful is to be imaginary, whimsical, far-fetched, bizarre.

Kleptomania is the inability to refrain from the urge of stealing items and is usually done for reasons not unconnected to personal or financial gain.  We have been suspecting that power corrupts holders of power,and that absolute power corrupts absolutely, totally, completely, utterly, and enormously.

We congratulate Speaker, Kano State House of Assembly, Speaker Alhaji Kabiru Rurum, onhis courage to resign amidst allegation of collecting money to scuttle investigation on the Emir of Kano, Muhammad Sanusi II. Read more at: http://www.vanguardngr.com/2017/07/kano-assembly-speaker-resigns-atta-takes/. We congratulate Alhaji Kahiru Rurum for he has the fortitude to resign upon seeing he was wrong, as he does not want to derail our demcracy.

Every honest Nigerian  is experiencing  excruciating cognitive dissonance. The theory of cognitive dissonance refers to a situation in which a thinking person finds himself or herself confused and frustrated. Cognitive dissonance involves being burdened with conflicting attitudes, beliefs or behaviors.

We love our politicians, yet we hate them for stealing what belongs to all of us, as though they were armed robbers and  our lives were worthless. A man or woman who steals from children does not deserve our respect.

Cognitive dissonance produces a feeling of discomfort in one going though the experience.  The going through leads one to alter/change one's attitudes, beliefs or behaviors to reduce the discomfort and restore balance etc. This writer is  now saying: "I have changed; I no longer hold the same opinion as before."

Ndiigho are not the only crooked people in Nigeria. The Igbos are the least corrupt because they don't have as much access to vast national cake as the Muslims  The Hausa/Fulani are taking my country for a jolly ride. Corrupt office holders are found in the all Nigerian tribes. Hausa office holders can be corrupt just as the Fulani and Yoruba are corrupt kleptomaniac.

I had often believed that Igbos are the most corrupt and the most money hungry cheats in Africa until a Nigerian female lawyer in North America accosted me, forcing me to eat my own words as well as to experience cognitive dissonance.  Then I changed my opinion and handed the most corrupt championship crown to the Yorubas. Now, I am changing my mind and I have decided that the Hausas/ Fulanis are the most corrupt, thieving groups to ever vandalize the my country Nigeria.

Consider the case of the Speaker of Kano State House of Assembly, Little did I realize that Evans and his fellow kidnappers are not the worst groups destroying the Nigerian economy, creating insecurity, impoverishing the masses, and keeping our youths unemployed ,

Alhaji Kabiru Rurum, has resigned amidst allegation of collecting money to scuttle investigation.

I have concluded  that the Hausas/Fulanis are the more corrupt than the Yorubas and Igbos. You are corrupt when you are dishonest, crooked, have a shady character, or speak from both corners of mouths twisted by lies. In Nigeria,  you are the most corrupt when you accept money to miscarry justice, or to nail the door of the coffin of Truth  tight  with giant nails of falsehood that nobody, even the devil in hell can  open it. You are doubly corrupt when you dip your dirty hands in a bribery pot to prevent your country from being free to experience freedom. What is free about freedom?

This Nigerian woman attorney (whom I shall only refer as Attorney) was right to decry the behavior of our rotten leaders, and I join her in welcoming the resignations of our leaders,  including businessmen like Alhaji Dangote who uses ill-gotten wealth obtained from criminal monopoly to corrupt our leaders.

Dr. James C. Agazie

The purpose of this essay is first to give thoughts to the proposition that my country is dead, or on threshold of dying if death had not occurred on October

1,1960. Someone says that Nigeria died decades ago? This essay's second purpose is to distinguish a person's death from a country's death; and finally

to argue that, unless certain preventative measures are taken and taken seriously, the death of Nigeria would be guaranteed.  We know that "Where there is no vision, the people perish (Proverbs 29:18)" mean? There is no greater vision than these:

Let us  cease imitating and copying everything  French, British and American do without modifying things copied to fit our unique style.

Let us promote an entirely new  Nationalism, patriotism, chauvinism, jingoism, xenophobia, independence, autonomy, home rule, or self-rule

Let us cease being lured  into the credit system in order to avoid huge borrowings  where we are unable to pay back both the principal and astronomical interest rates in a timely fashion , and where we are compelled to lose our valuable resources as payment for debts owed

Let  us strengthen our Constitution to guarantee individual rights, including the right to ban expensive importation and own weapons for self defense to reduce incidence of armed robbery and kidnapping

Let us devise means to extricate ourselves from enslavement by lender nations and organizations.

To reiterate, Nigeria is facing death, but...-This is a big but as we Nigerians ought not to rest lazily on our oars, thinking that everything is alright and fail to take certain precautionary steps to effect changes, which, if not taken, would hasten the death of our beloved nation. Let's row our boats a little further out from the seashore and ask ourselves: "Do we really love Nigeria or are we just talking shit?" . Rowing out to sea requires alertness, dexterity, and attentiveness.

To reiterate, Nigeria is facing certain death, though, sometimes from many indications, it may appear that the final nails are about to be hammered onto the four corners of coffin containing my country. We are using death not in a metaphorical sense but in its literal sense.

A metaphor is a simile, meaning image, allegory, and symbol or figure of speech. The antonym (opposite) of simile is literal, meaning the thing is real.  Can a person die? How does a country die?  When is a person said to have died and when does a country suffer death?

A man dies when his breathing or brain activity ceases to occur. He dies when he ceases to exist spiritually on this earth.  A country may die even when it still exists on the map of the world and its citizens are still breathing, have functional brain activities, and going nonchalantly about daily activities. A person dies and ceases to exist even where his body is found lying in the position he was in before death occurs.

Former U.S. ambassador to Nigeria John Campbell, had on many occasions predicted that our country Nigeria would die ( fail to exist) after the 2015 Jonathan-Buhari elections. Some Nigerians cried foul when the elections did not go the way they had expected.

The Nigerian Ambassador Adefegu, argued rather strenuously while calling his American counterpart names. Adefegu told Campbell. "You are the Prophet of doom" Campbell responded with an uppercut which made the opponent reel in pain. You reel in pain when you roll,  spool, cylinder, stagger, totter, or wobble. Ambassador Campbell  did not reel; he stood erect grabbing his gun with both hands.

The Nigerians thought our problems were over and began to go about their usual business after Buhari defeated Jonathan in the past presidential elections. Some Nigerians were in the process of swallowing bitter eba (garri mixed with boiling bile) at the terrible disappointment suffered after the Buhari-Jonathan  combat.

Mr. Campbell came out with his book "Nigeria: Dancing on the Brink" in which Ambassador Campbell reinstated and restated with the bravo of a wrestling champion his earlier prophecy that Nigeria would suffer a total demise or passing away.

In addition to delivering a provocative analysis of a Nigeria "in trouble" with insurmountable challenges which, if not addressed and carefully managed (by Nigerians, the United States, and other partners) will risk becoming "a failed state." Campbell has compelling grounds upon which to erect his prediction.  A prediction is simply a guess, calculation, or forecast.

It is no exaggeration that the average Nigerian  eats sand and drinks dust on a wage of $1 (N312.4) per day. Nigeria's vast oil wealth is concentrated in the hands of a small group of wealthy, arrogant  bureaucratic  Nigerians.

Our  oil wealth is being mismanaged and abused by ill-prepared, myopic bureaucrats, resulting in incurable, widespread poverty. Unemployment is such that Nigerian STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics) graduates remain unemployed years after leaving the universities. This writer witnessed many STEM graduates perambulate at Ikeja, a suburb of Lagos walking to the bus carrying the Holy Bible around under tired arms.

It is particularly depressing that while the Nigeria at home  spends $1 (N312) on three square meals consisting of breakfast, lunch, and dinner per day, the world sleeps oblivious of untold human sufferings these Nigerians experience on daily basis.

A survey this writer made of Nigerians indicates that they spend a whopping  sum of $10.99 (N3170) just to eat eba or jollof rice at restaurant owned by a Yoruba man.

Is my life of any of us more precious than that of a woman I saw sitting at a Lagos market? She sat under the blistering  tropical hot sun as she sold shelled groundnuts (peanuts) wrapped in dirty pieces of newspapers at 10 Naira ($0,03 or 3 cents) per wrapping. As I bought one wrapping and started to eat, I realized I was eating not just groundnuts but also the poisonous ink the newspapers were printed with. In Nigeria, safety, security, or death means nothing. A Nigerian  life is worth but a farthing.

One dollar (N312.4) is so minuscule, infinitesimal, diminutive, or just too tiny to pay someone.  To give a human being a farthing is. to say the least, a cruel and unjust punishment. A feorthing or fourthling was an English coin worth one quarter of a penny and 1/960 of a pound sterling. Such coins were first minted in England in the 13th century, and continued to be used until 31 December 1960, when they ceased to be legal tender.

While Nigeria is said to enjoy a ghostly prosperity as oil-producing nation, most Nigerians are very poor where poverty is measured in terms of paying a Nigerian in 2017 with a coin minted in the 13th century England and discontinued two months before Nigeria achieved  independence.  To show you how unimaginably destitute the average Nigerian is, I am going to itemize what the average Nigerian in the US  spends on lunch  daily.

For breakfast: Two good bottles of water ($!.00); 5  slices of wheat bread, ($1.00);  2 eggs ($1.00);  a pint of milk $1.00); 2 apples ($1,00); 2 oranges, (! $1,00); A  cup of  Quaker oats ($1.00); 8 ounces of spaghetti, ($1.00); 2 pieces of salmon fish ($1.00)

For lunch: Eba or white rice and stew with fried plantains; $10:19.

For dinner:  some hamburgers and French fries, $5:00  A Nigerian in the US spend roughly $20 (N3i4 X 20 =N6480) each day, while people in Nigeria  spend on the entire day one-tenth of what we US Nigerians  spend on lunch.

Despite its wealth and resources (human, natural, capital, intelligence, etc.), one thing is certain. There is the inescapable‚ concentration of Nigeria's vast oil wealth in the hands of a small group of wealthy Nigerians.

The wealth and oil boom of Nigeria is based on a long history of mismanagement and abuse by the country's ill-prepared and myopic leaders, resulting in the incurable‚ widespread poverty.

Finally,  there is a lack of employment opportunities for university graduates, as well as the state of underdevelopment, and lack of serious long-term investment in the agricultural sector. These shortcomings have conspired to shackle a giant to a mango tree to prevent the giant from the take-off pad to seek economic development. What do we do?

Let us  cease imitating and copying everything  French, British and American do without modifying things copied to fit our unique style. Let us cease being lured  into the credit system in order to avoid huge borrowings  where we are unable to pay back both the principal and astronomical interest rates in a timely fashion , and where we are compelled to lose our valuable resources as payment for debts owed. Let  us strengthen our Constitution to guarantee individual rights, including the right to own weapons for self defense to reduce incidence of armed robbery and kidnapping

By Dr. James C. Agazie; This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. ; jamesagazies.blogspot.com

Arewa Boys, your ultimatum will fail, has failed, and shall forever fail

Whom are you fooling, and why are you being terribly ungrateful?

Why are you unappreciative, ungrateful,  or acting like the spoiled brats you are

A brat  is an unpleasant child, a little monster, tiny fellow you see hiding in a horror movie.

Arewa Boys, are you serious about ordering the Igbos out of the North?

If your answer is " it's no big deal" or "it's a routine thing"

How do you describe a thing that is routinely no big deal?

Is it regularly, habitually, normally, usually, consistently, customarily?

Is it more often than not, and  who do you sell your water to when it is consistently so?

Who would hydrate drenching bodies in your scorching, hissing , boiling inferno?

Oh, and you bought Nigeria for a dozen suya on skewers and a leg of nama, eh?

Don't you see anything wrong with ordering a man out of his country and you're outsiders?

Could it be a wrong dream conceived in the middle a nocturnal emission

When you slept on the wrong side of the prayer mat or impregnated the wrong virgin

Whose father brought the wrong number of cows as dowry?

What's  wrong and why are you behaving as the spoiled brats you have been?

Name just one heinous crime the people you're ordering out have committed

And where were you when they were burning midnight candle on both ends?

When you masqueraded around with heads in the sky or filled with burukutu

A brat  is an unpleasant child, little monster, the tiny fellow in stroboscopic motion

Why are your gripes turning from temper tantrums into astonishing schizophrenic

The acute mental illness, evidenced by incoherent speech and Arewa thinking

That lacks understanding and behavior that is lacking in underlying theme?

I take it you have affect or facial expression that is usually flat, inappropriate, or silly?

Why does  Arewa letter violently written to Vice President Yemi Osinbajo

That Excuses your heinous crime on the theory that Nzeogwu's 5 equals your 4 million.

This essay unmasks, uncovers, blows the whistle on the Arewan shenanigan,

On Arewa prank, mischief, trouble, tomfoolery, misbehavior, naughtiness,

Arewa  is a monkey business hastily concocted in a moment of inebriation.

Aren't you Arewa Boys the fake philosophers beguiling Northern Nigeria for ages

That teach children the wrong math that killing  4 politicians equals killing 3 million Igbos

Aren't Arewa Boys boldface kidnappers holding  200 million souls for ransom?

Now, Arewa Boys, tell us what Crimes have the Ndiigbo family members committed

That you are pursuing with local herdsmen's poisoned arrows and expatriate AK-47?

And by the way, how have you procured those illegal weapons of mass destruction?

Aren't they being purchased with drug money, human trafficking and money laundry?

Where were you when so-called  Anyamirins were busy mixing mud with water

To erect your first primary schools and latrines in Northern Nigeria

At a time when your parents walked around stark naked, wearing just leaves?

Their buttocks served as dinners for mosquitoes, and toes amputates of leprosy

Weren't your men and women blindfolded with stings of the tsetse flies?

Didn't the Anyamirins quickly run up mountains to cover the nakedness of your virgins?

As your men's limp penises and your girls' swollen clitorises were sights to behold?

And now you have the unblessed gall to throw the Anyamirins out of prehistoric North

Aren't you as inept and unthinking as U S President Donald Trump?

Ain't  your Quit Order similar to Trump's four-nation Travel ban that woefully failed?

Arewa Boys, whom are you fooling, and aren't  you being terribly mistaken?


By Dr. James C. Agazie; This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. ; jamesagazies.blogspot.com

Sunday, 09 July 2017 17:07

Epistle to Ndiigbo and Biafrans



The recurrent, persistent  questions we are asking  are many. What type of people are Ndiigbo? What would life in Biafra be like? Would Ndiigbo find Biafra habitable?  Is it absolutely necessary that Ndiigbo  must  continue to embarrass Ndiigbo wherever Ndiigbo go by  engaging in armed robberies, becoming the most notorious kidnapper to harassing neighbors in their communities? This communiqué is a warning plea to desist from  one Onye Igbo (potential Biafran) to the Ndiigbo (igbo people willing to become Biafrans) and others who care to listen.

What qualifies this writer to pen this epistle to Ndiigbo? He's Onye Igbo (Igbo person willing to convert to Biafranism) and who  considers  Ndiigbo (Ibo people), as  his elders, his fathers and his mothers.

What hurts all Ndiigbo  also hurts one  Onye Igbo.  You know that we all know we are doing hurtful things to each other.  We ought to change direction and turn over a new leaf and begin to do good things in order to show respect for ourselves and earn respect of other Nigerians.

The purpose of this letter is to encourage our youth and provide alternative patterns of thinking  as we move together  through the challenges we are experiencing today in Nigeria's  democratic  governance.

Although we did not lose the Biafran War but are yet  treated as conquered scapegoats in our own father land, we shall not lose heart.

We shall maintain focused energy and hope and belief that we shall eventually prevail, knowing  that  our cause is justified and vindicated.

Our strengths lie in our ability to learn from our past mistakes  in order  to overcome, defeat, conquer, or  rise above future impediments or obstacles.  That we had failed at one time does not mean we should forever fail or remain incapacitated.

A popular Indian proverb says " A fool is one who trips over the same stone twice."  We are not going to fall over the same stone twice as fools do or repeatedly make the same slip and fall over and over again. It is time we corrected our 13 mistakes, and  remembered to correct our blunders as we are getting ready to enter the Promised Land called Biafra.

Mistake #1:  Though we may be the hardest working and the most ambitious business-minded group in Nigeria, we are the least satisfied, the unhappiest, the most dissatisfied group, and the group that derives  the lowest degree of pleasure and contentment from our work.

Mistake #2: We are dissatisfied after we have sweated it out in the heat from sunup to sundown and realized we have  made little progress in many areas of our lives as shown in our achievements cities in Lagos, Kaduna , Abuja, Port Harcourt and obodo ndi ozo (land of others).. They say the Hausas and Yorubas own more, work less, and derive greater joy from their labors than Ndiigbo do.

Mistake #3: We do not work cooperatively but prefer working individualistically. Let's work more united rather than separately, more cooperatively rather than disjointedly. Let's pull our energy together more and be more organized. Let's  mentor the young to take leadership over from us as our heads get grayer with the color of salt and pepper.

Mistake #4  We do not trust  each other as a result of past bitter experiences with jealousies and dishonesty that have continued to plague our progress . Let's dialogue more in town meetings  and village circles in order to  remove the last vestiges of suspicion that keep us  uneasy and divided.

Mistake #5: With us, it has always been "All work and No Play." Let's play more and relax more with neighbors and families. Play involves stopping work for awhile, to look around, and find ways to spread goodwill and joy around to help the deceased neighbor's widow, our fatherless children, and persons less fortunate than we are.

Mistake #6: We are too money-oriented; we turn everything  into money; and we make everyday life to be  a 24-7-period of very stressful striving for money, and material things  which we do not put to good use and which we waste on such frivolous activities as a man who owns at Lagos where each mansion has  7 expensive vehicles parked in the front, while the man brags of having 7 mistresses in every Nigerian town.

Mistake# 7: We are too disrespectful, rude, impolite, bad-mannered in conversations and actions. We turn against family members and persons who have helped us along the way. We engage in excessive backbiting. There  are too many unnecessary instances of  anya ufu (jealousy), anya ukwu ((greed), and ikpo asi (hatred) among us. Let's smile more, be more agreeable, delightful, pleasing, less confrontational, less contemptuous (disdainful, sneering, scornful). Let's be more agreeable, more accommodating, more egalitarian (classless), and ezigbo madu (good person).

Mistake # 8: We talk folks down rather than up: we are disrespect to elders, and  we exhibit absolute impatience and impertinence.  We notice  how the Yorubas and Hausas tend  to bend and show respect rather than say"beatiem mele" (I dare you to beat me out and let me see). Let's know that bending does not mean breaking or being a servant. There is tremendous power in humility. Don't we know that money is not everything?. Isn't money a good servant but a bad master? Therefore, let's not worship money.

Mistake# 9: We are too competitive in all we do such that when  a fellow Igboman imports XYZ merchandise from China, over 1,000,000 others order the same XYZ stuff in order to spoil the  market and reduce  prices , or flood the market with cheaper brands so that  and when prices hit rock bottom as Dollar and Naira fluctuate, the original XYZ importer goes belly up (bankrupt). Let's be our brothers' keeper. Let's attempt to diversify our  portfolio, and relax at the end of the day with a tumbler of sweet palm wine.

Mistake #10: We trade on fake merchandises, including counterfeit Tylenol,  and fake penicillin capsules filled with powder. Let's care for our people's  physical and mental well-being as we do for our children.  .

Mistake # 11: We are extremely arrogant, disloyal, untrustworthy, unfaithful, and treacherous.  There are stories where Igbo Brother A diverts monies sent to build quality house for Brother B by using the money and quality materials to construct his own (Brother A) house, while using inferior materials to build a poor house for Brother B.  Let's believe  that honesty as the best policy and keep our hands clean from doing aruru ala/nso ala (things that corruption the land).

Mistake # 12: We Igbo are too overreaching  in that we go too far in taking advantage  of situations: we exceed the limit, bite off more than we can chew, get the  better of someone, outwit, or take undue advantage. Consider the most notorious millionaire kidnapper Evans whose real name is Chukwudi Onwuamadike and how he demands 1.5 million Dollar ransoms from victims while the average Nigerian survives on one Dollar each day. Let's set reasonable boundaries, cut our appetites, and discipline our desires. The Hausas, River's people and Yorubas say that we Ndiigbo are dishonest and that's why they drive us away and seize our property. Our enemies reason this way: If Igbo man can cheat his own brother, he will cheat anybody, including his Chi ( his own God).

Mistake #13: We Igbos are cruel to each other and enjoy dishing out harsh treatments to other Igbos. Consider Igbo women coming to marry Igbo men in America and switching over to other men upon arrival or after obtaining the Green Cards and after beginning a successful nursing career.  Consider the Igbo chemistry professor  who stole the sum of $4,500 which an Igbo family sent for the purchase of  a used vehicle. The professor refused to either produce the vehicle or refund the money even after professor  was taken to U S court and the court awarded a 4,500 dollar judgment against the professor.

Written by Dr. James C. Agazie; This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. ; jamesagazies.blogdspot.com

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