Skip to main content

Say something, I 'm giving up on you

Image
By

The previous track was all beats and no lyrics, it could possibly have been the reason for my headache till it gave way for "Say something, I 'm giving up on you" by The Great world and Christina Aguilera.

By the day, Nigerian citizens give up on Nigeria. Even some of our brothers and sisters in 'Obodo oyibo' have vowed never to return. The exchange rate of the dollar to naira keeps increasing like the pace of a snake under a green grass, incessant insurgent attacks cripples national security,daily corrupt activities of government officials fill the dailies,violence rules the street and seems our economy has gone AWOL (Away. Without Leave).

I have been to a lot of seminars on youths taking over Nigeria as future leaders,bla bla bla. I have seen a lot of symposiums on creating leadership awareness among Nigerian youths but they are not effective.
Obviously we, the Nigerian youths have lost our compasses and don't know the direction to go but I believe there are people who still have great ideas.

Please what is the way forward for the Nigerian youths and how can they contribute to the reawakening of Nigeria ?

#CommentOnTheBlog
#SaySomething

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A letter from John

By
My bucket hat donned my head. It served the scorching sun right, my scalp was not one to be burnt for no offense. I relaxed my tired body against the board of the trawler. James yelled at me, "Don't just sit there and watch I and father. We will still catch some fishes, you can't just lose hope",he seemed to say. I peered at him through the corner of my eyes and closed them again. I felt cold water being sprinkled on me and I jerked up. It was father, I had no choice but stand up and join James.. I was not a man who wanted too many things. All I wanted was to catch some fishes yet the little things kept hiding and refusing to walk into the loving embrace of my fishing net. I may not desire many things but I sure desired to be loved not the kind of erotic love some of those Samaritan women would profess to men who lust after whore mongering. I sought for a love that was pure and chaste. A type that I couldn't even explain. I sought to be loved deeply by G...
Post a Comment
Read more

WHY I WON'T BE BUYING ANYTHING AGAIN FOR A LIFETIME

By
Heads up, people!  Walking into a shop to purchase an item does not look appealing to me anymore. This is one of my decisions for the new year being that if something is not worth it then there is no point buying it especially trying to impress another fellow.  I have chosen to stick to buying experiences rather 'things.' One of my observation is that experiences cannot be stolen or compromised. They stick like your gum sap sticks to a tree.  So maybe before you buy that expensive Emporio Armani wristwatch or Jimmy Choo shoes, it might be imperative to checkmate if there are experiences that same amout can buy you. Don't get me wrong, it is as clear as crystal that you need to shop for clothings, food, phones or luxury from time to time but bear in mind that your happiness can't be tied to any item. That vibe you get is nothing but a fleeting one .  “One of the enemies of   happiness  is adaptation,”  Thomas  Gilovich reveals. “We buy ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Mrs Woobag

By
Call her Woobag! He wooed her to make her a bag Whose mouth has been gagged A slum bag filled with punches Wearied with abuses in bunches Despised punching bag! Lengthy love letters turned assassination letters Man-handled by the man who gave her love's handle Love remains blind till it gains sight Woobag's face tells the story when his fury kindle Who will bring you down from that scary height? Fair face turned blue Kicks and slaps await you on a queue Upon your monster's punch tune You disappear in a ruin Your monster The master in feminine batter Who like a lobster Clinched your soul with claws till it splatter Your phlegm-trickling nose seeds Watch the master's deeds Innocence robbed Will there ever be a refund? Woobag! You await the right time and cry in a bag You may not become an old hag Till your bridled tongue you wag.
Post a Comment
Read more