Sunday, 23 October 2011

GENDER CHANGES AND MOTHERHOOD by Su'eddie Agema


The piece is centred on certain views to gender change but more importantly, motherhood. In beginning, your permission is sought for just a little detour before the main gist...
So, what does one say about them – women that is. They are indeed the essence of everything that the world is. It has been said that there is nothing new under the sun; everything has been done in one way or the other. In essence, there is no inventing the wheel no more; it is just modifications. This is true of women. To talk about the values of women would be to just babble and repeat clichés that have been used from time immemorial. Do we talk about their physical qualities? Lovely hazel eyes; face that shines like the moon; lovely physique; figure eight... Is it their persons? There are descriptions to almost all the ladies we can come across, descriptions that we might want to personalise but have been used over and again. These descriptions come in personages of others who have lived long and granted names to the whole group; there is the great sweet mother of eternity that each one of us professes; Jezebel; Delilah; Mary; ... what description?
They are delicate and complicated, true talk. They are different; soft and gentle but in most cases getting all the sympathy. Reminds one of the case of the house where every night the wife would be shouting ‘You would kill me today, you would kill me today!! Ahh! Ahh!! Ahh!!’ In the end, the neighbours tired of the rant and hoping to rescue the lady on this night before her wicked husband killed her, broke the front door of the house which was locked. Behold, the woman was on top of the husband plummeting him with series of blows that would have gained her the heavy weight if she had decided to join the boxing profession. The amazed neighbours in the normal style of doing things, turned and left without helping the poor man who could hardly shout from the pain... So, forgetting the humour, we get to look at the fact that in man cases, when a man is involved in a case and it is the woman on top, he is left to suffer his fate...
Well, that is the case of gender equality. Gender equality has come to mean women getting equal rights in all situations as men and in some other cases, having more rights than them. J It was employed in several sectors ranging from governance where there has been an increased call for more representation of these on boards of administration and governments. In Nigeria, President Jonathan promised that in his new government, there would be far more representation, has he lived up to his promise? You should know the answer. Then, there is the other aspect of women trying increasingly to become more like their male counterparts or even better...
What is wrong with all these? I don’t know. Perhaps, there is no wrong to it, perhaps there is. It must be noted that it is amazing to find great women of character and will. They sure can transform any place. Honestly, any lady who stands up and means it, somehow gets to be outstanding...meaning most ladies hardly fall into average – just greats or failures. The admiration of many for these sort of women is beyond compare.
More and more, the number of professional women rises to the detriment of even mere mothers. The world seems to be losing so many mothers and getting by this extension, many way-ward children. The main compensation these women would give would be to simply give treats of hang-outs and the like to their children or something of the sort. Now, in saying this, one is not unmindful of the exceptional few who find a balance – they are to be praised! But there is the increasing number of women losing themselves and being to become more like men and less than themselves...
One problem rises though, what happens when our women totally lose themselves? Gender roles would naturally attribute mothering and such to women. What happens when they neglect this role and leave it all to some paid or gotten assistant or in some situations, fathers? Hmm, it could be terrible many times. So, what are we driving at? It is good that women are striving to be greater; it is good that they are being given all the attention they are given... but it would be better if they remembered one of their primary roles which is the home or to be more particular, their children. Experience has shown that children who have more care from their mothers turn out to be greater than those who didn’t. By this care now, the watchword is not to spoil but rather to pay closer attention to one’s children. It is the greatest thing that a lady can do.
Forgetting all the attention given to women, or the strives at gender equality and all, the true essence of a woman is mainly how and what her children would come to be. This is what distinguishes the mother from the father. True, the father is needed to make things right and to give the firm position but the essence of the mother cannot and should not be mistaken or underestimated.
It brings to mind the words of a great lady, Hembadoon Angela Itakpe, ‘A strong successful woman is not one that has built a career only but one that built her home alongside it. Not an easy balance, but we can try. Many times, you will seem to b running one side of this equation only. I guess the main thing there is realising it & trying 2 pull the neglected part back into orbit.’
It is only right to salute all the strong women of the world for their strength and for everything they stand for. It is possible that this piece might have been a bit back and forth but it’s main essence is a call to mind of the changing values of time and the evolving lady... There is the plea at the end here now that mothers find time to be mothers for therein would the world get better... In closing, this piece and indeed, this edition of this mag is dedicated to those professional mothers; whether selling akara or working as a Manager somewhere; shuffling between different jobs; or even struggling with school, exams or doing any other business and finding time to get back to the children. They are indeed miracles that nothing can explain. They are indeed the greatest. No gender equality or comparison can ever be used to measure their worth or put them in a state that would be as just and right as most feminists or others would want. These are the angels that we can’t do without. Thanks for every effort, every tear, every worry and every sacrifice... May the world and even whatever world after they believe in or not, bless their every effort and give them the reward that they truly deserve.

And to us all else, God bless. Amen.

Wednesday, 31 August 2011

CHUMA NWOKOLO AND GEOFF RYMAN AT THE WRITERS’ LEAGUE GUEST SESSION IN MAKURDI



11th August, 2011

It was at the Guest Writers’ session at the Writers’ League of Benue State University, Makurdi. Time was 4:30pm, introductions had been done and Chuma Nwokolo was already reciting away poems from his Memories of Stone. Being a student writer association, he took advantage of the blackboard as he recited and explained ‘I am,’ a poem that starts with one’s ambition that ends with a discovery that after all is said and done, one might not be anything at all. Thunderous applause greeted the end as he took another which excited his audience. In reciting, Chuma made sure he read each stanza twice, for emphasis and gave a little explanation: ‘The reason why I read my poems twice is for understanding. When you’re reading it on paper, you can understand but when I am reciting, it becomes difficult.’ He continued his recitation, using a deep resounding voice and a commanding presence, he grabbed the attention of everyone present, silence all through as he recited and demonstrated his poems – no one wanted to lose or interfere with any bit of the flow. He read a poem inspired by his Sudan trip ‘No, not ‘Sudan, Sudan,’ you people know that one too much.’ General knowing laughter at this. One more and he was through with that. He sat to a mightier ovation than the thunder claps at his individual poetic performances. It was the time for Geoff Ryman, sci-fi award winning writer to take the floor.

Geoff started with a simple question: ‘How many of you have heard of Polpot?’ No hands at all. He gave a little history of Polpot whom he said killed one million people within three years and nine months, of a population of five million in Cambodia. What?!! Wow!! Went the sounds of surprise in the room. The man was against literacy and the literacy rate in the country is poor, because of that man. ‘We are looking at one of the great tragedies of human history,’ Geoff continued.

He proceeded to reading parts of ‘Polpot’s daughter’ (a fictional tale) from his system. His style of presentation had voice variation to match the different characters in the story, and use of sounds like hitting the table and making other such noises. The last part was to spice up the imagination of his hearers. It all worked well as the audience listened attentively, laughing at the deep humour in the work and the variation that the strange white author introduced. Then, there was the odd moment when Geoff had to skip a bit to get to another point of interest to read to the audience. It was a real awkward moment and Chuma tried breaking the silence that ensured with a word or two. Some members of the audience got real bored here and someone was heard to say ‘Oh, this is most boring!’ Then, the readings continued with a funny extract that left the previous complainer laughing loud along with everyone else. The presentation was back on track with a touching conclusion, and Geoff was through. There was another round of ovation that was not so much especially since the reading of the story had pulled most of them to their end being somewhat long.

Questions and answer session came and the student audience had the chance to ask questions ranging from how to handle overflow of ideas when crafting prose; how to look poetry and its craft; to the traditional ‘Should poetry be obscure or simple?’ were handled expertly by Chuma and Geoff. In answering the last of the list, there was a consensus that Chuma’s poems were difficult. He defended his poems saying they were not and challenged the students to read a book a week for the next one year and try reading the book again. He went on to advise that the students use words that conversational. He is totally against obscure poetry: ‘I believe if your poetry is not communicating, it is not worth it...’ So, each word and line should be able to communicate and speak. To a question on literary criticism, Geoff said that the works of critics are commendable as they took an extra look at a particular work and showed more meaning to it. This usually gave readers an increased insight. ‘The more meaning a story has, the better. So, what do critics do, they improve the work.’

The League President, Kuraun Silas called on the Art Faculty members to talk. Dr. Moses Tsenôngu of the English department, told the students to finish issues of grammaticality and master the English language before they think of finishing a work of writing. He told them that they had to take their craft seriously as it would come to bare later. ‘I started writing poems but they ended up writing me.’ Ben Due-Yav, of the Theatre Arts department told the writers not to take inspiration for granted and to keep it by writing it. ‘Whatever work you have is not yours, you owe it to society. Others are depending on you to write... Literature is the wheel that makes the world go round.’

Kuraun Silas called for a few more readings. Two poems were read but by this time, there was impatience in the air as most members of the audience were too tired to listen. All the remaining readers would take their turn at the next reading. It was photo session next and some bonding and talking with the guest authors, Chuma and Geoff.

In all, it was a really good and interesting evening for everyone. As all: the guest writers, board members, invited guests and members of the League with an appreciable attendance of over fifty, smiled their way home, it was obvious none of them was going to forget the experience in a while.

Notes:

Chuma Nwokolo and Geoff Ryman are on a two week Creative course at the Benue State University, Makurdi (ended Friday 12th August, 2011). The Writers’ League is a student creative writing and reading society in the university.

Monday, 15 August 2011

BANANAS MINE

BANANAS MINE

When I encounter those enticing bananas

My hands itch

Seeking to peel

And make the lovely fruit within mine

The outer easy to peel

Stays on, tempting

Ripening, showing the inner

Till in the end I claim them for mine

And eat of it all

The sweetest fruit of the world

Then I am worried:

For this one was a carefully concealed mine!



(From 54 Weeks A love Poem © 2011 Su’eddie Vershima Agema

Tuesday, 8 March 2011

God bless the broken road that led me straight to you (short story)

“God bless the broken road that led me straight to you”

He heard the song playing in the movie. He smiled. Rascal Flatts was his favourite band. Then his message tone sang. He took the earphones off and rushed to his phone, his heart pumping. He hoped...

That morning Teba woke up and headed straight for mass. He offered mass for two families– his and that of Slinda.

He checked her and found her fidgeting. She had been made the President of her Women Association. He had been in the business long and tried his best at correcting her. She doubted her ability and questioned every single thing. He smiled her worries away as he got a call for breakfast from a Priest friend.

“I would be there, but not for long.”

“You must stay to the end oh!”

She got in and got something – that he was to market for her.

He smiled again at her oversized pyjama shorts...

He thought of what to add to the tale. The words failed and he knew he had to come out with the truth. Yes, I had to tell it the way it was.

I smiled at Slinda and took a bike to breakfast. It turned out to be a bit longer. I did the marketing but did not get much feedback. I dashed to my apartment and changed into my official uniform. Ran to the venue of the meeting and got a back seat. I watched as the meeting proceeded. It was the first time she headed the, any meeting.

Soon after, I smiled at her and we laughed away the near perfect meeting. I believed in her and was really proud. We took a long walk, talking.

I had to travel which I did. Long wait, bumpy roads and all. Maniac bus in Makurdi.

I sent her a text. She replied saying she had to send to do a write up. I immediately felt like teleporting myself back to where she was. Smiled and put the phone on charge. I clicked on Hannah Montana, the Movie and started watching it. As it moved on, the story spoke to me. I thought of all the publicity that would come my way and how I would handle it. Rascal Flatts sang ‘God bless the broken road that led me straight to you.’ My mind went to the meeting – our first meeting, events and all...

Then, I heard my message tone. I rushed in the hope that it would be her. My excitement was strong. It was simply a message from my service provider: MTN.

Something told me I was in... It was my first experience. I rushed to write it down. I carried my phone to call. It was 0221 hrs. No need to wake Sleeping Beauty. There was always tomorrow. My mind, was made.

27th May, 2010 02:23

Wednesday, 8 December 2010

THE RIGHTS

The rights?

You killed it in the fights

Oh! There was no fight?

Yea, You simply smashed us with your might

The child sucking at a breast

Had his soul laid to rest

Milk all he sought

A bullet was what he got

But forget the rhymes

Of red that kills our total green. Punish the crime

Of the elephants and cattle trampling on us

Destroy this flowing evil at its source

Then, one remembers the rot of the total Force.

Protectors? May we never live in that Jos

We shall rise never to fall

And once more be the peace, AMEN, of all.



NOTE: This poem won the third position in Beautiful Lines Competition 2010

Saturday, 28 August 2010

ONE MAN (A poem)


There were never two men

To claim my prize

One man…

The man came in drunk and raped his own twin sister

The half and half

Bringing one full

One leaves that the others should live…