Archive for category Children and Parenting



I went TREE CLIMBING yesterday! It was fun! Can’t remember when last I did that. Suffix to say, It was a cashew tree.

I think it’s a great adventure to visit our childish states once in a while…it sparks some excitement, only that one is more careful and tactful! Of cause my legs are longer now, I can alternate between branches at ease…that was something that cost me a crack in my teeth about twenty years ago.

But what wouldn’t change is that you will always have saboteurs… In every of life’s venture there will always be this individuals who are bent on grounding your efforts. Ask Goodluck Jonathan

You can imagine a grandpa like me on the tree dropping cashew fruits and some Insipid, Unscrupulous, Ignoramus kids were trying to Sabotage my effort…but instead of begging (like I used to) about 20 years ago, I simply ROARED at this stupid things trying to steal my cashew. They ran without even seeing the face of the Lion on the Tree of Cashew.

When I was done dropping about 20 fruits, I retired, sweating profusely. It was when I came down the tree that I remembered that it was actually children’s day…I was forced to share with the kids that where bold enough to stand at distance when I came down to gather my spoil. I was left with 6 fruits after distribution.

There is SHARING in LOVE!

Happy Children’s Day to all Nigerian Kids. Leaders of Tomorrow!


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…My XMAS Cloth

How time spins, how memories pile
How life reads at the tickles
Compiling great catalogue of memories.

Memories, that’s what they are now
Essence, that’s what they were at the time.
You feel incomplete without a few of them.

These feelings change with seasons, didn’t they?
Birthdays, Easter, Christmas, Jan. 1, topping the list
How strong are this feeling with you now?

The stronger they are the younger you are, so I feel
This feelings evaporate with age, so I think…
As they get heated by the ultra-ray of worries.

How I want that feeling back so badly
No worries, no cares. Just fun…
How I want to claim a privilege by nagging

How I wish someone realises am not too old to cry
For what I love so badly.
That a wish list (like my niece’s) isn’t a bad idea.

“Uncle, check my Xmas wish list and add your gift:
Glasses, shoes, wrist-watch, iPod, eclairs (1pk), 1pen,
Cute doll, and my Xmas cloth.” From Enny with love.

What an audacity. So who is out there?
You don’t want to see my wish list. Would you?
Let’s start with my Christmas Cloth…

You’re Great-by-Design

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Pope Sixtus V’s strONG WORds AGAinst aboRTIon


In 1588, we had Pope Sixtus V as our Holy Father.

In his Papal Bull, he didn’t mince words against abortion.

Though Roe v. Wade wasn’t decided in the United States until 1973, Pope Sixtus V already strongly condemned abortion.

1588 is WAY BACK. Think, Spanish Armada. In fact, it was in 1588 that the English defeated the Spanish Armada at Gravelines in the Netherlands.

There was no advanced medical technology like today. They had widespread diseases from spoiled food and lack of hygiene. What do you expect?

Who will not abhor the cruelty and unrestrained debauchery of impious men who have arrived into such a state of mind that they procure poisons in order to extinguish the conceived fetuses within the viscera, and pour them out, trying to provoke by a nefarious crime a violent and untimely death and killing of their progeny. Finally, who will not condemn to a most grave punishment the crimes of those who with poisons, potions and evil actions …sterilize women or impede that they conceive or give birth by pernicious medicines and drugs?”

Cruelty, unrestrained debauchery, extinguish the conceived fetuses, violent and untimely death, killing…

It’s clear how Pope Sixtus V thought about this. He was well-known for his pro-life stance, pro-marriage stance, pro-family stance. He was my kind of Pope on those issues.

He also managed many changes in the organization at the Vatican… he also had a revised version of the Vulgate published … and he wasn’t a big fan of the Jesuits. That’s all for another post.

In Effraenatam, Pope Sixtus V wrote:

In the Narrowness of the uterus the hand of god is always at work … Creator of both body and soul and who molded, made and wanted this child and meanwhile the goodness of the Potter, that is of god, is impiously and overly despised by these people (who assist or get abortions).”

He wanted these children. He wanted them to live. He wanted them to bring something to the world, to their parents, to the doctors. He wanted them for something. It doesn’t matter what, God’s plan is above our comprehension. My eyes tear up like crazy when I think about all the babies missing from this world.

It is no small and trivial gift of God to give children in order to propagate mankind. It is a Divine gift.”

A divine gift. Oh, God, please don’t revoke your gifts to us because of our ignorance. Oh, God, please forgive us for our sins.


Besides we want that the monstrous gravity of these brutal, cruel, ferocious and inhuman crimes be punished not only in temporal sanctions, but also by spiritual censures and for this reason we decree that all persons of whatever state, degree, order or condition … who as principal parties or accomplices in order to commit aforement automatically excommunicated by us.ioned crimes have helped, counseled, shown favor or knowingly given potions and/or whatever kind of medicine … ”



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9/11 Horror Account of a Village Boy

History is not a heroic story, nor memory a block of marble inscribed with imperishable words of grief and rage. In Tony Blair’s account of this act of inhuman cruelty, in his book A Journey (Published: 9 Jun 2011), he wrote “It is amazing how quickly shock is absorbed and the natural rhythm of the human spirit reasserts itself … We remember, but not as we felt at that moment.” How time flies, how terrific time devours our dearest and dreadful memories, how we are striped of realities and left with reflection.
Personally, I remember the shock of that moment perfectly…even though I didn’t watch the live clips of the incidence – I doubt if any Nigerian of my age watched the live streaming anyway…that afternoon I was roaming a flea-market with my mum doing last minutes shopping as I prepared to resume for Senior Secondary school…I recall a ‘now-funny’ exclamation – a market-version of the breaking news. It came from the wheel-barrow pusher who was helping with our grasps.
He said to me as my mum bargained on (in Yoruba) “friend, are you aware the world is ending today?”
“What? How do you know” I asked with my church mind flashing back at those end time teaching and scary antichrist stories I have heard in church teachings.
I can’t remember waiting for him to explain; I immediately tapped my mum to gain her attention and tell her what I just heard. In swift successions we noticed quick movement in some session of the market and shops where closing-up.
I wouldn’t have been scared if not for the previous information…shortly, there was this heavy guy that ran across the market shouting “WORLD WAR III, WORLD WAR III, WORLD WAR III…America has been destroyed!!!” he kept shouting those words as he ran across the market .
Shops started to close-up for real, movement became more disorganised.
Soon, we were heading home on a charted cab.
Thank goodness, there was powers supply, mum just went straight for the TV, but unfortunately it was not better than the breaking news we heard on the car-radio, as we could not get video clips of the said attack…the best we got was the news and a promise to update us with the latest as it unfolds.
My imaginations were running wild…borrowing from all the “action-films” I had watched. Didn’t even know what is done at WORLD TRADE CENTER…I assumed every country of the world has an office in the building, for international trading and finance.
I was stuck to the TV set for about three hours till the Local TV station was able to relay blurry clips of the horror at the 6 P.M news. I called my lil’bro and mum, who had missed the main news…they looked on as they expected the news-recap.
My attempt to relay what I had seen sounded so fake and abstract; it was unlike all the “action film” I had imagined it to look like. In a short while the news recaps were on…and I was in more shock as I saw Jet dive into the twin tower and the building cracking and falling into crumbles…knowing it was a stale news, I had a hard time imagining what would be happening in the families of the victims of that hijacked plane, the inhabitants of the tower, the environment, the passersby, in beloved NYC and the US as I went to bed that night…I eat though!
The night was so long as I look forward to reading and hearing hot-group debates at a newspaper stand two streets away from ours the next morning…I should say I had night mares, which is strange, considering I am not an American and I only witness it on television in an outskirt of Akure, Nigeria. That’s the best a village boy could have of such event.
…having said that…
9/11 is 12 years behind us, a stuff for debate, and substance of history and a subject of study. After 9/11, we have had Obama’s Elections, Arab Spring, Afghanistan’s Ransack, Osama’s Execution, Steve Job’s Death, Gadhafi’s Termination, Mid-East/Syria Crisis, Chinua Achebe’s Exit …12 years of bonuses of heart breaking headline news and events…
…the world moves on leaping and learning.

Around the 10th year remembrance of the dastard attack, I came across this controverted picture taken by Thomas Hoepker. Hoepker, a senior figure in the renowned Magnum photographers’ co-operative, chose not to publish it in 2001 and to exclude it from a book of Magnum pictures of that horribly unequalled day.

“Perhaps the real reason Hoepker sat on it at the time was because it would be egotistical to assert his own cunning as an artist in the midst of mass slaughter.
Today, the meaning of this photograph has nothing to do with judging individuals. It has become a picture about history, and about memory. As an image of a cataclysmic historical moment it captures something that is true of all historical moments: life does not stop dead because a battle or an act of terror is happening nearby… 10 years on, the meaning of this photograph is that memories fade fast. The people in the foreground are us. We are the ones whose lives went on, touched yet untouched, separated from the heart of the tragedy by the blue water of time, which has got ever wider and more impossible to cross. A 10-year-old event belongs to history, not the present. To feel the full sorrow of it now you need to watch a documentary – and then you will switch to something lighter, either because it is painfully clear that too much blood has been spent around the world in the name of this disaster, or simply because changing channels is what humans do. The people in this photograph cannot help being alive, and showing it.” wrote 2/9/11.
Ahead of today’s twelfth anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks on the United States (September 11, 2001), families, friends, colleagues and others worldwide have in various ways been remembering the victims of the incident.
I dedicate this memoir to Mr. Godwin Ajala, the only officially listed among the deceased. A Nigerian trained lawyer who at the time worked as a post guard at the WTC. Ajala is undoubtedly one of the heroes of the 9/11 attack. One of the best tributes which aptly captures the place of Ajala among the victims of the attack is by a blogger named CarpeDM. “In a world where so many people are looking out for their selves, this man risked his life for others. Who knows how many were saved because of him? Today, whenever I see a flag or hear someone speak about 9/11/01, I will think of all those who died. And I will think of all those who survived because of men and women like Godwin Ajala.”

Oluwatade T. Faith

You’re Great-By-Design


PORNography PARENTing and Posterity

“I’m even interested in what is inside the disc. Come and play it for us”.

That was my mum talking to me. The disc in question is a DVD containing collections of pornographic video.

Don’t blame my mum. She’s too innocent. And, I guess, she thinks all her kids are, too. But with the disc in my hand, the seal of her innocence was about to be tampered with . . .

“You don’t want to see this kind of movie, Mum” I told her.

“Put it jare, I even want to know what exactly they do in all these blue films”.

My Dad just sat on the couch, silently. I guess he was still baffled with the shock that any of his children will bring in a pornographic material into his house (as if that was the first time . . .).

Don’t label us too soon. We are great kids. Admirable. All of us! A Banker. An Engineer. 2 Medical Practitioners. A Pastor, and an Economist. We are outstanding kids! But, you know, even great kids do stuffs they aren’t proud of . . . and stuffs they don’t want their parents to be aware of. But somehow, this one broke out.

One of my siblings had brought in the forbidden disc. I guess he was seeing it in the midnight before there was a blackout. The disc is stucked in the DVD player. And worse still, the culprit left the TV and the DVD player on . . . and went to sleep. Maybe he was hoping that the power will be restored soon for him to continue feeding his mind . . . or maybe his mind was so full already that he had no spare thinking space to remember to put off the TV . . . Whatever.

So, here comes Kola Ola. I came home the next day from school really tired. I’ve been away from home for over a week. I came to pick a few things. As I opened the door with my key, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The plasma screen welcomed me with some . . . You guessed right—some porn! Live! In the “holy apartment” of the Olas. Porn in broad day light. Power had been restored and the disc had resumed playback.

I’ll be lying if I said that I switched it off immediately. No. I first ensured that the door was well locked. Then I picked the remote control and flipped backward and forward a couple of times. Scanned through the disc. Paused at some “interesting scenes”. And ejected the disc!

I kept it on my dad’s table with a note to him.
“Dear Dad,
I saw this disc in the DVD player when I came home. It’s a pornographic CD. Please take some time to talk to my brother about it. It could be dangerous.
Kola Ola”

After a week, I came back home again and asked if Dad saw the note and the disc. Alas! He hasn’t. (I guessed I kept it too well). I went to his room and fetched it and brought it to him at the living room. He and my mum had a strange look. They couldn’t believe their ears . . . and soon, they wouldn’t believe their eyes!

“I’m even interested in what is inside the disc. Come and play it for us”.

“You don’t want to see this kind of movie, Mum” I told her.

“Put it jare, I even want to know what exactly they do in all these blue films”.


I inserted the disc and . . . PLAY. Then I hurried away from the living room to my room.

The disc had nearly played for 15 seconds when I started hearing my mum shouting“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” and gasping. (She calls my Dad “Daddy”. . . lol. Don’t call her old skool o . . . lol). She was about to faint. I rushed to the living room and pushed the STOP button.

She had never, I can tell, imagined the possibility of what she was seeing . . . a lady on all fours with her mouth wrapped around a guy’s . . . you know the rest. (Bad you!)
I rushed to my mum and calmed her down.
“But I told you that you don’t want to see what was inside the disc . . . you insisted”.

Let me stop it there.

What am I driving at?

Most parents have no idea what their children are going through! They don’t know a byte of what their kids know about sex and sexual matters. And it’s disturbing!
I read a write-up by Anne Marie Miller earlier today and it moved me to pick up my pen and write, too! At 33, she calls herself “a recovering addict”. Pornography was her drug of choice.

A youth pastor sexually abused her while in junior high school. She turned to the Internet for education. She didn’t know what certain words meant or if what the youth pastor was doing to her was good or bad and she was too afraid to ask. But before she knew it, in her own words, what started as an innocent pursuit of knowledge quickly escalated into a coping mechanism. 

In her over six years of sharing her story with various young people at various kinds of gatherings and doing a lot of counseling, here are some of her findings:


GOOGLE IS THE NEW SEX-ED. When a student hears a word or phrase they don’t understand, they don’t ask you what it means (because they fear getting in trouble). They don’t ask their friends (because they fear being ashamed for not knowing). They ask Google. Google won’t judge them for not knowing. Because of our short attention spans and desire for instant gratification, they don’t click the first link that shows up – they go straight to Google Images. In almost all of the stories she has heard, this is how someone was first exposed to pornography – Google Image searching. And the average age of first exposure in her experience was 9 years old. 

AS A PARENT, IF YOUR CHILD WAS EVER MOLESTED, YOU LIKELY DON’T KNOW: According to her, another extremely common theme was children being inappropriately touched, often by close family members or friends. The stigma and shame of being a victim coupled with the trauma that happens with this experience is confusing to a child of any age: our systems weren’t made to process that event. Meanwhile, while a child can look at pornography without being abused, children who have been molested by and large look at pornography and act out sexually. 

MOST PARENTS LIVE WITH THE BELIEF THEIR CHILD IS THE EXCEPTION. (My parents did). But guess what? We weren’t! Chances are (if you’re a parent, too) thatYour child is not, either!

Here’s a snapshot of a few things she heard from these students:

They’ve sent X-rated photos of themselves to their classmates (or received them).

They’ve exposed themselves to strangers on the Internet or through sexting.

They’ve seen pornography.

They’ve read pornography.

They’ve watched pornography.

The girls compare their bodies to the ones they see in ads at the mall or of actresses and keep those images hidden on their phone (or iPod, or whatever device they have) so they can try to imitate them.

They question their sexuality.

They’ve masturbated.

They know exactly where and in what movies sex scenes are shown and they watch them for sexual gratification.

They’ve had a same-sex experience.

And they’re terrified to tell Their parents!

Like Annie, I am more aware now more than ever before in my ministry how little parents know about what’s happening. And like Annie, because I’m not a parent, I feel terribly inadequate in telling parents this.

From the statistics of my facebook friends, and the people that visit my websites and blogs, majority of the people that will read this are either young parents or parents-to-be . . . and that makes it good! There’s still some time to fix this when we become the Dads and Mums of growing-up kids. We must not allow our kids to repeat our errors!

After seeing the innocence in the eyes of ten year olds who’ve carried secrets nobody, let alone a child, should carry; after hearing some of the most horrific accounts from church members I’ve ever heard in the last one year, I can’t not speak! I cannot go one more day without pleading with you to open up when the time is right and have these difficult conversations with your children (when you have them). Would you prefer your son or daughter learn what a “fetish” is from you or from searching Google Images? Talk to them about abuse. Talk to them about trafficking. Talk to them about masturbation. Talk to them about sex! Your children need to know. If not for them, maybe for a friend. Maybe they can help bring context or see warning signs for another child.

Ask them what they know. Ask them what they’ve done. Ask them what’s been done to them. And very importantly, SHOW GRACE AND LOVE. Stay far away from judgment and condemnation.

If you feel ill equipped, ask a pastor or counselor for help. If you hear an answer you didn’t expect and your first instinct is to dismiss it – don’t. Find a counselor. Look for resources. Continue following up. 

And, quite honestly, if you struggle with this, too (and let’s admit it, statistically, a lot of us do), get help too. 

Do the right thing. Do the hard thing, for the sake of your children. If we don’t do it, I am terrified of how the enemy will continue stealing hope and joy from our youngest generation and how they’ll be paralyzed to advance the Kingdom of God as they mature.

Will you watch that happen?

Culled from

You’re Great-By-Design

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….i LoVE my MuM

At 3 years we say “mummy I love
At 14 years we say “mum
At 16 years we say “my mum is so
At 18 years we say “I’m leaving this
At 21 we say”mum,you were
At 30 years we say “I want to go to
mums house”
At 50 years we say ” I don’t want
to lose my mum” ,
At 70 we say “I would give up
everything to have my mum here
with me”,
you only have one mum.
Press LIKE
write, “I LOVE U MOM”
if you are proud of her

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#pOWer of A wOMan

Whatever you give a woman she is going to multiply.
If you give her sperm she will give you a baby.

If you give her a house she will give you a home.
If you give her food she will give you a meal.

If you give her a smile she will give you her heart.
She multiplies and increases all that is given to her.

So, if you give her any crap,
you will receive a ton of shit

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