JENNIE IFEATU

I have a thing for geographical places. Each place, I have visited or lived in leaves an emotion or lifelong lessons for me. Some are pleasant and some are not too pleasant but the fact is that they all come bearing something. Lagos is one of my best cities. Sometimes she comes with a feeling of nostalgia, sometimes anger, on other times an enormous explosion of unexplainable positive energy and on somedays some sort of craziness. The good thing about her is that she has something to offer. I have a habit of staying away from places where my emotions are blank. Lagos is a doting mother who spoils you silly like her only child if you understand her. Sometimes, I get really embarassed when people ask me how I have the time to read or write.  This is because the answer usually at the tip of my tongue that I do not let out is that, "Lagos has taught me to maximize my time." When I started working, I apparently started realising how useless sitting in traffic could make

Jim Rohn had his opinion that "If you don't like where you, change it. You are not a tree." Kingsley Agorua had looked around where he found himself and decided to change it to suit his taste through his lens. My earliest contact with Kingsley should have been in 2012 when I was a student at the Federal University of Technology, Owerri. I spotted him at an event on campus where he was taking photographs. Little did I know that I would bump into him again at my faculty - The School of Health as a student. I was curious as to what a photographer was doing in my faculty during lecture period. Time will reveal that he was a student too who was madly in love with his camera. This was all before the advent of traditional or nearly compulsory bridal showers, baby showers and pre-wedding shoots in the Nigerian Creative Industry. Kingsley Agorua is a cinematographer with years of experience from Oguta in Imo state. He studied Dental Technology at the Federal University

One of my old bosses had got off the phone with a grunt and a scoff. " Any problems?" I asked with concern.  "Another baby adult, " she mumbled. Apparently, she had given out a project to someone to handle and the fellow had not met up with their agreement. Instead of apologizing, he found it more convenient to pass the blame to a third party. Excuses are the tiny little holes that end up forming the large bored holes on your trousers.  I know where your thoughts are straying. Anyone can disappoint, make mistakes and flop. This is true however when you fail to take responsibilities for your actions and push the blame to another fellow. You just bought your enrollment form into the 'baby adult league.' This does not apply only at work. It transcends down to your business, relationships and way beyond your expectations.  Over the weekend, the scheduled elections in Nigeria was rescheduled due to  mainly logistical challenges faced in deploying human

One of the activities that make my Sundays beautiful is spending time with the kids in my church. I would teach and listen to them as they ask the weirdest questions. A fortnight ago, a little girl with bulgy yet innocent eyes walked up to me. She tugged at my dress. Looking down I flashed a smile at her, "Any problems?" She nodded. "Ma, I wanted to ask if candles burn adults when they put their finger through it?" She said in her sweet babyish voice. I found the question amusing but explained that we all feel pain irrespective of if we are older or younger. She showed me a blister on her finger which she had gotten when she had tried holding the wick of a candle.  "Sorry," I said to pacify her and warned her not to try it again, explaining further that it could injure her more. It appeared that I satisfied her. She grinned and scampered away. I reminisced how I also played with lighted candles as a kid. Just as everyone feels pain when burnt

Some people make deliberate decisions to go into farming but Obinna was actually born into the world of agriculture. Onyewuchi Obinna Michael is the brain behind TM -farms. A startup focused on water reticulation for farms, farm planning, agricultural consultancy, crop production especially for crops believed not to thrive in the South East. TM -farms is also actively involved in animal rearing which includes; piggery, fishery and poultry farming. "Becoming a farmer was not just a decision I made at a point but a culture that I was born into. I was born into what I would call an Agriculture family. I  have always had the vision to revolutionize the Agriculture sector, awaken the minds of youth towards agriculture by changing their perceptions of agriculture. To prove to our young minds that you can work hard, channel your energy to something positive and get fulfilled as you smile to the bank.  I must add that agriculture or farming is a career of hope; it require

Today 50 years ago the drum of war was heard in Afor-Umuohiagu market. On the 7th day of February 1969, the quiet and peaceful community of Umuohiagu and its environs were provocative, transformed into a graveyard of uncontrollable mourning and groaning by inhuman civil war activities meted against unarmed civilians (mostly women and children). The ungodly day witnessed a fully-packed afor-umuohiagu market desecrated and raped like a whore whose legs were tied to immobile stakes. The entire terrain of the central market turned into a river of human blood. As the eggs of death were hauled on Afor-Umuohiagu market, the reek of death pillaged and ruined the 3,400 capacity business centre.   Five decades after this awful and infamous gibbet, nothing has been said or done to heal the traumatic memory. Therefore, it is important to draw attention to such inhuman proclivity for dissipation and turpitude. "In defiance of hunger and probable death, the people of Umuohiag

My earliest memory of ever hating a genre of music was when  I was a teenager. I am a perfect 90’s baby, so rap, gospel and hip pop was the deal for me.  Country music and reggae was something I had personally reserved for my uncle’s and the men who fell in the category of the papa’s.  Mum would say, “Don’t you like Dolly Parton? She has a sweet voice and sings about real life experiences.” In the depth of my heart, I knew I could not just help sparing my time to listen to a matured lady who had the voice of a baby.  Sometimes I’d wonder if Dolly was an old lady pretending to be young. Call me young and foolish, you might not be too far from the reality.  A family friend who had accommodation problems at the time also lived with us. He often occupied the balcony with a mattress. I believe he was trying not to inconvenience anyone.  “You are my friend when I am hungry,” his radio would blare. Who in the blue God-created skies wants to be hungry? I would cringe. 

I have always felt living life was all about collating experiences. What is life without experiences if not a boring tragedy sit-com on a monochrome television.  I grew up as the curious one in the lot. I was curious for a kid my age. I just wanted to know.  My mind still pictures the hot afternoon I had chased a scared rabbit that had jumped out of a nearby bush. My neighbourhood was a developing community at the time. So, It was not unusual to stumble on some ‘not-so-common’ rodents and even reptiles.  The scared rabbit raced like it’s life depended on its pace. I was nothing but an unharmed kid who wanted to have a closer look at this beauty with whiskers and a quick wiggling nose. It was obvious that it was tense but I wanted this friendship forced or not.  By just the movement of my foot, the bunny raced to a safe haven, burrowing itself into a hole. I smiled and figured out that this friendship was never going to work.  Later, it jumped out again and he