Lagos vs. Abuja vs. Port Harcourt - The Battle of Nigerian Cities

Lagos vs. Abuja vs. Port Harcourt - The Battle of Nigerian Cities

Okay, which was a bigger hit? Banky W’s Lagos Party or Duncan Mighty’s Port Harcourt Boy? Okay, don’t answer that. But notice how nobody ever sings about Abuja? Like there is no song, no song at all, that I know off that extols and praises the city. Dead place. Okay, maybe not really. But Abuja is really just where politicians have established a dominance.

But let’s get serious for a bit and do an intensive city comparison among these popular Nigerian cities all amazing places to live and work with by their own right, but when it comes down to the deciding factors, which cities have an advantage over the other? There is always the question of ‘between Lagos and Abuja which is more developed?’. ‘Which is better to live in between Lagos and Abuja?’ ‘What are the differences between Lagos and Abuja?’. Well we added Port Harcourt to this Battle of Nigerian Cities to make it a little bit more interesting.

What are the metrics and parameters we would be using?

Population density. Ease of Transportation. Hotels, Restaurants, and Pubs. Cost of Living – Housing, the price of foodstuffs etc. Employment Opportunities. 

Population Density.Without the help of statistics, we know Lagos wins this one. I mean, everyone from the village has carried their Ghana-must-go and come to Lagos. Winning this isn’t necessarily a plus. The city is overcrowded and overburdened. Its infrastructure can not bear the weight of its close to 20 million people in its 1171 km square of land.

Lagos – 6871/km square

Abuja – 439/km square

Port Harcourt – 2726/km square

Ease of Transportation.

BRT’s in Lagos with dedicated lanes,  Uber cars, ferry transportation over the lagoon. But it still has some of the most insane traffic conditions in the world. Abuja has an amazing road network. Wide lanes. Less amount of cars on the road compared to Lagos.Abuja on the other hand, has an amazing road network - wide lanes and less amounts of cars on the road compared to Lagos. No rickety buses, danfo’s & molues either. Port Harcourt has a fairly good road network too, less population density so, way less traffic, because of a low number of commercial transport operators, and it can take too long for commuters to get vehicles to their destinations and there’re frustrating pockets of traffic in hot spots. The Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport in Abuja recorded a total of 6,183, 603 passengers in 2012; Murtala Mohammed International Airport in Lagos had a total of 6,879,286 passengers in the same year, while the Port Harcourt International Airport had 1,256,854 passengers in the same year.

Hotels, Restaurants and Pubs

Okay, so here is what I did to determine the numbers for this. For Hotels in these cities, I simply used an online hotel booking platform to determine the number of hotels they have in their database. Pretty straight forward, as the numbers show, Lagos has the most hotels in the country. I suspect they would be rivaled only by Owerri, story for another day. Then for restaurants and bars, I don’t know any company that keeps a database of restaurants and bars, so I simply typed Restaurants in Lagos in the Google search bar and the number of results that displayed is taken for the popularity of the term. So there. Lagos leads in its population of Hotels, Restaurants, Pubs and Bars. So if you are the city hopping type, you know which city you are likely to have a hotel, restaurant or bar around you than anywhere else. Wait, I should have done a search for Clubs, okay, maybe do that yourself and show us your numbers.

Lagos – over 1461 Hotels, 11m restaurants, 401k Pubs, 17m  Bars

Abuja – over 412 Hotels, 459k restaurants, 275k Pubs, 443 Bars

Port Harcourt – over 296 Hotels, 394k, 391k Pubs, 352k Bars

Cost of Living

Houses in  Abuja are expensive. What!!!??? And in Lagos too, but not as expensive as in Abuja.

The average cost of renting a 3 bedroom flat in Abuja based on my research is N1,500,000. In Lagos, it is a bit tricky especially with the whole Island – Mainland dichotomy. But on the average, 3 bedroom flat on the Island goes for N8 Million. On the mainland the average is N800,000. In Port Harcourt, the average is about the same with mainland Lagos at about N800,000. Prices of food, water, clothing, foodstuffs are all indices in determining cost of living, but for the sake of convenience and brevity, we can determine that Abuja has a higher cost of living than Port Harcourt and Lagos.

Employment Opportunities

Lagos has the highest concentration of Bank Head offices in the country, as well as several other offices in different industries. Port Harcourt has the highest concentration of Oil and Gas related companies. Abuja is mostly government ministries and parastatals. Be that as it may, Lagos still records the highest number of internal migration within the country. Accounting for its swelling population. But while the entire economic outlook might not point to the availability of jobs, its numbers is enough to encourage entrepreneurs and traders who take advantage of providing one service or the other for its teeming mass.

So there you have it, our analysis which we would leave you to decide which is your most desirous city to live in. Tell us in the comment section, let’s know your feedback.

Traveling Nigeria On A Budget

A bird has gotta fly. 

Recession or not. What is a traveler like you going to do? Travel. You have no choice really. What it now behooves you to do is to find the means to travel on a budget. 

1. Book Online. The benefits of making bookings for your flight, bus or hotel stay online can not be over emphasized. You stand to enjoy special discounts rates that are available and save time. And if the old adage that time is money is true then booking online and saving time would invariably save you money too. God is Good bus service offers 10% off rates when you book online.

 

2. Screen and Substitute. So you want to go skinny dipping in a pool on your trip to Enugu, What you can do is check in at the Vinbecca Hotel and Bar which is less than N5,000 per night and a great hotel to spend your stay in the city despite the lack of a swimming facility, and then when its time for your body to wade in the sun reflected waters of the city, take a walk down to The Gate Luxury Apartmentsit at the pool, snap your fingers at the waiter to get you a drink, and swim till the sun goes down.

 

3. Travel during the off Season. Avoid traveling on long weekends.  By that I mean weekends that have public holidays attached to. Avoid traveling during any holiday period at all. If you must, make your bookings early enough. Transport services, hoteliers and the likes usually take advantage of cashing in during this period against a long period of lull.

4. Don’t travel alone. Traveling with a partner helps split the cost. Hotel rooms especially.  No, you cannot lap your traveling partner from Lagos to Abuja, haba.

 

5. Use available public transportation. While in the city of your destination avoid the temptation to go about in a cab or Uber. Hear that sound? That’s the sound of hard coins dropping onto the pavement every time you hail a cab. Talk to locals, ask for directions, enter a bus, or ride a camel if you are up north. You account balance will thank you.

 

City Hopping in Naija

City Hopping in Naija

I had always said I wanted to have a friend in every state in Nigeria, not because I am entirely that friendly, but because I wanted to have a person I can call on if I ever found myself stranded in a city. Or bored and needed someone to show me around. This plan didn’t entirely go well with connections I started out making being that most were students who were studying in a different city and would eventually relocate back home after their studies and yet again be flung somewhere else when it was time to do the mandatory NYSC service. It was beginning to sound like a really clumsy plan, even though it made a lot of sense in my head at the time. Plus, close family were beginning to send request on Facebook so I completely abandoned that social media account. Didn’t want family meetings called on my behalf over Facebook posts which I might have considered harmless banter but frowned upon by old fashioned parents and aunts and uncles.

A while ago, I told my friends when they begin fixing wedding dates they should do so with three considerations in mind. The first being that it shouldn’t be during the rainy season, the second was that that it should not be during football season, unless they planned to install a TV screen where can catch up on matches while they said their vows. The third was that it should be spaced, lets not have two weddings clashing on the same day. I’ll simply sit at home and disappoint everyone equally. But what are friends if they ever listen to you. In the space of two weeks I received wedding invitations from a roommate in University and from another from secondary school, and my worse nightmare was coming through right before my eyes. August 20th. In two different cities. How on earth would I be able to pull this off? Even after I had said I would sit at home if this ever happened and disappoint everyone equally, I didn’t have the nerve to follow through with it. These guys were really dear to me. Deep inside I wished someone would call off or postpone their wedding. It was a mean thought that I discarded. Thankfully enough, I wasn’t on the groom train for either of the events, which was fantastic, because it would have been impossible not to disappoint one for the other.

So I started making plans.

Port Harcourt for one wedding, Warri for the other.  I lived in Lagos. Really this was doable. I only just needed to show face and made sure I took a picture with the couple. If it was rice, there was rice at home.

I finalized plans on what I would wear to both weddings, on one hand I wanted to wear the same outfit, I figured it would be good for laughs when photos showed how I was at two different cities for two weddings wearing the same outfit. On the other hand, I wanted to keep it fresh and dapper at each event, so I don’t lose the respect put on my name. 

But what about accommodation? I didn’t know anyone in Warri, nor in Port Harcourt. Okay I knew people. The two fellows getting married. But I couldn’t bother them on where to stay in Warri or Port Harcourt, planning a wedding alone was enough stress. I was going to go to Warri first. Spend a night there, and attended the wedding, fly to Port Harcourt to Osawe’s wedding right after I spent exactly two hours at Franks wedding. 

I had assured them I’d make it after a put them both on a conference call right after I got the invitation and it was settled, couldn’t be bothering them with accommodation plans on my behalf. Off I went to book hotels online. I was sure I could get something nice if I booked online. I wasn’t even exactly bothered about the price, for these guys, I could splurge a bit.

 

I began my search and quickly found the Protea in Warri already I was wishing I had a female companion with me to hop the cities with. There was a car hire service that could take me from the hotel to the venue which made it super convenient. Free Wi-Fi too,  I could finally update all my apps and my entire OS. Sweet! After browsing for a little over 5 minutes I found The Golden Tulip hotelin Port Harcourt, which was just perfect for me.  It was in close proximity with the reception venue, and there was free internet again as well as complimentary breakfast which I knew I would need after a long day the next morning. I booked, paid and confirmed. Then as I was just going to go get lunch I received an email from my boss. Apparently,  I was due for a presentation in Abuja on Monday, the 22nd. Thankfully I hadn’t closed the tab, I booked the Bolton White Apartments right away, this at least was going to be on the company’s tab as well as my flight tickets. Accommodation sorted in both cities, I had a great feeling it was going to be an amazing weekend. In hindsight, Ii was right. It turned out to be super duper fabulous.

<img src="https://cdn-travel.jumia.com/web_hotel_detail_gallery/protea-hotel-warri-21404-c71bfa3dd1a600ba166b984e4567ee8d1194af22.JPG" alt="protea-hotel-warri">

Mother By Joy Inya Akut

Joy Akut Have you read the book or watched the movie adaptation of  ‘Flowers in the Attic’ By V.C Andrews? It’s about a recently widowed mother who locked her children up in a bid to get her dying father’s inheritance. She gets remarried and losses complete interest in the wellbeing of her children, and tries killing them so she can enjoy her inheritance. 

Well, just like their mama locked them up in the attic, stunting their growth, limiting their freedom and exposure, and gradually laced their cookies with poison, so is my mother killing me. She’s locked me up in cell of oblivion, stunting my growth, limiting my potentials, and quenching the fire of my dreams for the future even before it takes shape, leaving me to dwell in ignorance while I peep out and sadly watch as other mothers send their kids to the best of schools and embrace their potentials.

Top 10 Worst Nigerian Hit Songs of 2014 - by Morakinyo Olugbiji

 

According to Morakinyo Olugbiji (Journalist/PR), below are the worst Nigerian hit songs of 2014...

Someone once told me that the type of music a society listens to is a reflection of that society; therefore the chaotic music that has in recent time rented the Nigerian airwaves is a pure reflection of the chaotic state the country is in. It looks like in the history of Nigerian music, 2014 has the highest rate of bad, garbage music being churned out. From watered down lyrics that do not correlate, to singing different songs on same beat, the state of the industry leaves much to be desired. Below are my top 10 picks of worst hit songs of the year 2014. You may or may not agree with me though. Some of you may also need to listen to these songs carefully to understand my points well. Continue...

Tinubu writes on turning down offer to be Buhari's running mate

Statement released by Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu regarding his withdrawal from consideration for the APC Vice- Presidential Position.

I am a Nigerian who loves his country and am hopeful about what it can become. I have seen and conducted myself as a patriot long before I thought of myself as a politician.  I shall always walk this line and no other.

After all the political calculations are made and the dust of competition has settled, it must be this nation and its people who  stand first and foremost.

The question becomes whether we stand strong, able to shape ourselves into our best future or will we stand frail and trembling, burdened by the abject failure to surmount the multiple problems confronting us.

I’m not in PDP on anyone’s errand – Ribadu

From Premium Times

Today is a happy day for me. I am awed and inspired even further by the cheerful crowd that received me at the airport and which has come with me to this place. Whatever way I turn, I feel a sense of boundless happiness at coming home, more so now with a mission to be accomplished; a task dear to the hearts of all the people of Adamawa State. This is therefore not an ordinary day for me, and as indeed it is not for the rest of the patriotic citizens of this State – we are here on the march of history.

I would like to appreciate those members of the PDP who privately and publically prodded on me to join this party. My appreciation also to the leadership of our party for the warm reception accorded me deserving of any full-fledged party stalwart. This kind reception did not begin from today, it began from the day I signified the intention of joining this great party. Today, I come to you as a full blown party member who

WHEN WILL THEY STOP DECEIVING US THAT WE ARE THE LEADERS OF TOMORROW?

Few days ago, I saw some children playing, they were having real fun singing songs they were taught in their schools. One of the greatest songs they sang which obviously everyone sang as a child was:

"Pa-rents, listen to your children

We are the leaders of tomorrow

Try to pay our school fees

And give us sound education."

Initially, I was enjoying their gathering as I really love to watch kids play not until they started singing the above song so passionately with all of their might....We all know how kids sing a song they really love....they sing on top of their voices, jumping and dancing like the way Arsenal fans danced when they won the FA cup (Up Gunners).

Anyway, these kids were simply happy calling themselves the 'leaders of tomorrow'. And I felt pity for them, for they knew not what they were singing.

Many of us sang this song when we were young, either to make our parents pay our school fees or just for

Chimamanda Adichie: The President I Want

By Chimamanda Adichie

Some of my relatives lived for decades in the North, in Kano and Bornu. They spoke fluent Hausa. (One relative taught me, at the age of eight, to count in Hausa.) They made planned visits to Anambra only a few times a year, at Christmas and to attend weddings and funerals. But sometimes, in the wake of violence, they made unplanned visits. I remember the word 'Maitatsine' – to my young ears, it had a striking lyricism – and I remember the influx of relatives who had packed a few bags and fled the killings. What struck me about those hasty returns to the East was that my relatives always went back to the North. Until two years ago when my uncle packed up his life of thirty years in Maiduguri and moved to Awka. He was not going back. This time, he felt, was different.

Who I am #SayNoToRape

 

I live amongst you, we wine and dine together. As supposed human beings we have thoughts limited to us, but what are your thoughts about me as of mine to you?

In the sanity of my quietness I create the insanity of my actions. I watch them provocatively dressed, the well dressed are not left out of it as I imagine the sight of the unseen. I crave for squeezing those boobs and making their ass clap with the spank from my thrust. As long as you are a woman, you are a prey.  

The devil, the evil in me is what they do not see. The coward, the bastard that I am is what they have no knowledge of.

So I pounce on them, one by one like a serial killer. I devour them, time after time like a timekeeper making sure nothing passes him by. I watch them helpless, I love when they scream, it propels me when they beg. I crave for violence of that of body, mind and soul. I am feminine destruction.

I know, I am aware and I don't need to be told; I am a curse, a demon that has a ready plan of blaming the devil if caught. I am a beast, a predator hunting for preys. I am what the sound of the words "No, please don't do it" feels more like "carry on, am loving it". I am heartless,.... I am Rape.

#SayNoToRape by @toperants

 

Why didn't you tell anybody?

Why didn't you run? 

If it was me, I would have slapped him.

All these words kept hitting me from all angles, I wanted to scream.

I was the one that was affected, yet no one cared to know if I was fine.

I could silently hear them hinting that I should just have kept it all to myself.

I could hear myself on the inside saying over and over

'I am the victim here'

But as usual I sucked it all in.

If you are reading this, don't judge me.

I kept it all because I was raised to respect the elders

I was raised to recognize that the elders are never wrong

I was raised to never correct their wrong

I was raised to accept their wrong as right

I was raised to be seen and not heard

I was raised to never have an opinion.

Is it a culture attributed to only Africa or Nigerians?

I cannot tell.

She Said No #SayNoToRape by @_Ceefour

She said no

It meant no, and not yes

You grabbed her hair

And tore her dress.

And bruised her flesh.

What you didn't know

Was the gaping hole you left in her soul.

What you didn't know...

Daddy was never around

Mother said he was in heaven

Grandma said he was in hell

Years ago, like you today

Violence had conceived you

Your mother's freedom to choose

Taken from her.

Bruised. Humiliated. Denied. Abandoned. Then you.

She would swear she taught you better.

Respect. Especially for a woman's choice.

Self-control. Because that is how men ruled the world.

Love. Because it isn't forceful, nor violent and never about sex.

She said no.

It meant no, and not yes.

You grabbed her hair

And tore her dress.

And the demon, the hate, the evil

That conceived you

Was in manifest.

How do you look at yourself in the mirror and not cringe?

There are guns, and knives.

Then there is your penis, and your mind.

She said no. It meant no. And not yes.

Victim of the Gods #SayNoToRape

"Na the old gods dey wait make rapist turn 90years old before dem catch am, the God of today delivers judgment sharperly #SayNoToRape"

His torso ripped with veins showing through his formerly white but now brown singlet as he pushed the buggy of water into the hostel, this was his final round of water supply for the morning and he was ready to go take a shower, devour some " Tuwo shinikafa" and rest before the already tingling sun starts to burn. The shinikafa was more on his mind as he jerked two 25litres kegs of water from the buggy with accustomed ease and danced along the tiny path to the rear of the hostel, pulling the heavy weight of the water, and jiggling like a palsy patient with every step he took. He emptied the water into the drum in quick succession and made his way back to the buggy to grab another set of kegs, oblivious of the hundreds of wolfish eyes staring at him in wild ecstasy or what lies ahead as he performed his routine without any care in the world.
His thighs and biceps throbbed as he emptied the 8th keg of water and the morning sun danced caressingly on his dark golden skin, two more kegs and he's done for the morning, the thought of food gave him the strength to maintain his balance but the aroma of different concoction oozing out from the kitchen of the

Letters to Simi: Episode 4 by @kbaronn

The face my eyeballs collided with, just after I turned,shone brighter than the rays of the sun even in that enclosed rendevous. She was the same girl, whose sight had stunned me earlier and dropped me into the endless pit of thrills. Lost in trance,in a world of my own fantasizing about what good sight God had blessed me with, and suddenly came a voice that found me and placed me back on the stage called reality. She spoke almost effortlessly, as her lips slightly move apart, and yet I could hear her as loud as the piercing sound of a trumpeter whom just got perfect in his art,and is eager to showcase his abilities to a waiting audience.

Letters to Simi: Episode 3 by @Kbaronn

Two weeks came rather slowly,more sluggishly than the movement of other days.I hoped,expected and could barely await the verification exercise. I read and read often,most of the things,I have read before,but I needed to be well prepared.I could not allow such an opportunity slip away from my grasp because I wasn't well prepared. "Mama na" frequently sat by me while I read,watching with a keen sense of interest,like she understood what I was reading. She barely was educated,the few words she is conversant with she learnt via her dedication and interest in learning. I wasn't allowed to do anywork,all my chores where suspended,all mother told me she required of me was to study and study,which I did very intensely.Two weeks elapsed at last,and I was glad. I couldn't stipulate how happy I was,so nobody could comprehend.The principal had told me the last week his schedule for the trip to the capital city,for he had earlier volunteered to take me there. We were going to ride on his bicycle to the train station,from where we would board the train for the capital city. I hurriedly dressed up in my uniform,a white shirt and brown trouser. I often found it difficult to defend the kind of trouser I wore whenever I was asked about it due to it length. It wasn't fully down to my ankle,but was far below my knee.I had earlier in the day woken up to mend my trouser in preparation for the big moment. After getting fully prepared,I took off to the principal's house being accompanied by mama na's prayers,loads of which she had mounted on me before leaving the house. When I got the principal's abode, he was already waiting for me, dressed as usual in his short nicker,a short sleeve shirt and a tie so long it length extends almost in between his legs. We got on his bicycle and commenced our journey as planned.

Three hours later,we got to the state capital,and indeed it was a state capital. Beautified beyond the description of words,splendid, a haven beyond comprehension. I was nonplause and stunned,could barely talk but stare I could. We boarded a taxi to the venue of the verification exercise,I was glued to the principal for fear of wandering away, for also I was naïve as well as ignorant. He dished out instructions,rules and principles to me,at first he had my attention untaintedly,but then in few minutes it shifted,moved right upon the next being I beheld.As she dropped out of a very exotic car, one so neatly cared for that I could vividly see myself from the reflection illuminated on it's body,I knew deep inside me that the sight I beheld was nothing short of setting eyes on an angel. As she walked through the gate,right pass me into the venue of the verification,subtle,soft and in elegance almost like a gazelle making it's way around paradise,I was astonished. The principal had left me to myself,now I was alone in the hall meant for the exercise alongside other students. For a moment the whole reason why I was there at that point had vanished in my mind,all I could think of was the epitome of perfection I saw in the twinkle of an eye.She wasn't the only girl ,but she was the only one I noticed. All the students were directed to sit on certain platforms upon which our names were inscribed,and as I walked to mine,my legs moved absent of my consciousness.My whole being conveyed in my thoughts had swerved into my eyes,as they scanned the whole area in hope that I might be blessed with that angelic sight once more,all to no avail. Just when I was getting used to my sit,trying to analyze it's confortability and adjust adequately,I felt a warm tap on my back,which I responded to swiftly,and just as I turned, I regretted the speed of my response for it spoke volumes about my thoughts,wish and expectations,which fortunately were about whom the tap came from...

Next episode comes up next week

Letters to Simi: Episode 2 by @Kbaronn

Woke in the morning, and in my heart was ignited an idea, one I needed courage, strength and a great fortitude to exhibit. I was cordial with my secondary school principal, even though it wasn't a well laid bed to lie on. While still in school, I would after classes on Fridays tread through the ridiculous terrain that inhabited the route to his abode, a terrain which I often thought about as I walked through every weekend to be a major cause of the "rickety rickety" sound that often pops! out of his bicycle as he rode it. I would engage in house chores, cleaning of his always dust stained colonial-looking louvers that filled the space crafted for a window, sweeping as well as tiding up his laundry. The principal was unmarried, but yet married to a carefree attitude. So I mounted upon myself a cloth, a conviction that just maybe if I could narrate my situation to him, he would help out somehow, anyhow.
I hurriedly stood up from my bed, made out of bamboo sticks and rushed out of the room to the small hut not far from the main house which served as our kitchen. I dip my hands into the bucket filled with water which I had fetched the previous night from the bore-hole which is the only source of clean water to my community. I washed my face and legs, and off I ran to the principal's house. Coming up at his front door, I knocked faintly twice and I could feel the enormous built up fear residing in my heart move through my arm into my fingers, for even though I was cordial with the principal, I couldn't forget how stern he was. After my knock, I waited patiently for a reply, hoping it comes soon so I wouldn't have to go through the scaring ordeal of knocking again. "come in, the door is open", was the reply I heard from the principal with his voice as coarse as before just while my thought were bouncing around. I walked in, with a little confidence and a lot fear. "Good morning sir", I uttered more faintly than my knocks, and he answered "Good morning Abubakar, what brings you to my house this early". My mind couldn't find an answer to his question, fear had extinguished my thought. After a few seconds had passed, I mustered up words and explained my predicament to him, a story most of which he was familiar with. He took a deep sigh after my lengthy utterance, and told me he has heard all that I have said. Shortly before I arrive, he was planning on coming to see my mother and I, so he stipulated. He said the state government had given my secondary school one slot for the state sponsored scholarship into tertiary institutions in the country, and that he had decided to give the slot to me based on my predicament and academic suitability. I sat on his couch, aghast, staring at him, struggling to utter words of appreciation, but all I could feel were those words colliding in my mouth. I was glad, happy, joyous, and the wonderful feeling that existed in my body system knew no limit. He then told me to go and prepare very keenly and intensively, because clinging successfully to that slot necessitated my verification, which would be done in the next two weeks through an aptitude and written test. I had barely heard all he said, when I stormed out of his house running back home, probably faster than I ran to the principal's house. I imagined how joyous "mama na" would be when I disseminate the news to her, that finally , I have a realistic chance and opportunity of furthering my education, just the way she had hoped and prayed for. Then again, I thought about how intensely I was going to prepare for the verification exercise. Life intends to start with this next phase of my life ready to come in play, and the things that follow suite, became the basis upon which the feeling I had never admonished grew...
Next episode comes up next week.
Written by: Oladeji Mayowa O.

Letters to Simi: Episode 1 by @Kbaronn

 

Sometimes I sit and stare and think and cry. Sorry, I would be lying if I said sometimes, for it happens always, something like a daily routine, and considering religion is the opium of the masses which I unconsciously am part of, I have to state the truth . I’d cry and cry often till tears dried up from my eyes and all that could depict that I was still crying was the movement of my lips and the awkward look of sadness on my face. I live in the Northern part of Nigeria, where our governors rode in cars that I always thought I’d see in heaven alone while their citizens trekked for miles barefooted, where our leaders ate excessively on tables crested out of gold, while their citizens had no meals to put on their tables, coined out of patched woods. I was poor, unarguably. My father had just died of malaria

Chimamanda Adichie: 'Why Can’t He Just Be Like Everyone Else?'

I will call him Sochukwuma. A thin, smiling boy who liked to play with us girls at the university primary school in Nsukka. We were young. We knew he was different, we said, 'he's not like the other boys.' But his was a benign and unquestioned difference; it was simply what it was. We did not have a name for him. We did not know the word 'gay.' He was Sochukwuma and he was friendly and he played oga so well that his side always won.
In secondary school, some boys in his class tried to throw Sochukwuma off a second floor balcony. They were strapping teenagers who had learned to notice, and fear, difference. They had a name for him. Homo. They mocked him because his hips swayed when he walked and his hands fluttered when he spoke. He brushed away their taunts, silently, sometimes grinning an uncomfortable grin. He must have wished that he could be what they wanted him to be. I imagine now how helplessly lonely he must have felt. The boys often asked, "Why can't he just be like everyone else?"

The Police and the danger ahead by Olusegun Adeniyi

Whatever anybody may feel about the G-7 governors and their politics, nothing can justify a situation in which policemen would behave almost like licenced thugs by storming into a government house to ask the chief executives of states to put an end to a lawful assembly.

While still in the United Kingdom on his self-imposed exile circa 2009, former Federal Capital Territory Minister, Mallam Nasir el-Rufai needed to revalidate his Nigerian passport. Quite naturally, he approached the Nigerian embassy in London whose officials decided to notify Abuja of the development. As it would happen, some people decided that since el-Rufai had made himself an enemy of the government of the day at the time, he should be denied his rights under the law even while hiding under some subterfuge. But it was not until the former minister went public about his ordeal that the late President Umaru Musa Yar'Adua got to know what happened and he felt really angry. Of course, Mallam el-Rufai has a different narrative of the issue but the fact of the matter is that the late Yar'Adua had nothing to do with an action that could only have brought his government into ridicule as it sure did.