Seven pounds

I watched the movie, Seven Pounds, recently and just had to write a tribute to it.

Everyday, he sits at his desk,
glad to have a job,
glad to be able to cater for himself.
As the phone rings, he picks and says,
"Hello, Customer service, how may i be of help to you?"
Blind Ezra never hurt anyone,
was never cruel or unkind.

Everyday, she watched the children run down the street,
She could barely keep her dog from running too fast.
She knew her business was about to close,
but with the uncertainty in the time she had left,
her mind, her heart was no more into work.
Emily, the girl with a failing heart.

She sat in Child care services everyday,
always trying to reach out, always praying her friendly smile would convince the next child,
the next victim of abuse that she was there to hold them,
to provide another way for them.
No one knew of her pains, no one could tell that her liver had failed.
Holly, always smiling, always ready to help.

She kept the children in doors,
She never let them be exposed to her abusive boyfriend.
She let him in because she knew there was no where to hide.
And she knew she would die if she pressed charges.
Even when he broke three of her ribs she never said a word.
Proud Cottie - who would cater for her kids if she were to 'disappear'? No one.
Cottie had to stand strong amid all the despair.

The family of three ate at the hospital cafeteria.
The mother was smiling hard, and encouraging her first son to play with the ailing younger brother.
Nicholas was ill, and failing everyday.
He needed a bone marrow transplant, and was on the waiting list.
His mother tried to conceal her dimming hopes behind an over bright smile, but the boy could feel it.
There was no hope in this world.

He assumed an identity
To fulfill a mission.
He took the role of his brother
to penetrate and to study
He had it all planned out.
He knew what he had to do, and he knew when
He selected them all, specifically
they had to be deserving
they had to be nice kind people
they had to be worthy,
worthy of another chance at life.
Worthy of a change in their situations,
worthy of a miracle.

It is rare to be given the opportunity to plan one's death - Death is always cheating at that.
But Tim Thomas had that opportunity,
To his brother Ben, he gave a lung.
To Ezra he gave his eyes.
To Emily he gave his heart.
To Holly he gave his kidney.
To Cottie he gave his home.
To Nicholas he gave his bone marrow.

To each one of them, he gave another opportunity
Another shot at life.
He planned his suicide, but he didn't feel he had to die just like that.
This graduate of MIT, decided if he were to die, people had to benefit from his death.
The accident that killed seven people and the love of his life, that left him as the only survivor, was proof enough for him that he survived for a reason.
And he touched many lives, in his selfless act.

I only hope he gets to enter heaven.

Drupal Discovery Day Dakar – Nov 7, 2009

Come join the Dakar Linux User Group and other Senegalese Drupal Enthusiasts on this first Drupal Discovery Day Dakar

Where: Dakar, Campus UCAD / Ecole Supérieure Polytechnique (map)
When: Nov 7, 2009 / 13:00 – 18:00

Some of the topics we’ll be talking about:

  • History and goals of the Association Drupal France et Francophonie
  • Installation: getting started with Drupal
  • Now what? A run-through of the core modules and an overview of the most used third party modules
  • Localization and internationalization: dealing with multiple languages
  • The sysadmin side: performance tuning, scalability, automated deployment tools and the built-in testing framework
  • Drupal distributions: pre-packaged Drupal installations for a specific target audience
  • The next steps in creating a Drupal Community in Senegal

This little event would not have been possible without the support of the Association universitaire Francophone and the DakarLUG. Thanks!

Bosi gbangba pt3

"My Daddy Eko is coming to our house today!" Four year old Ajibike whispered to her friend. They were at sunday school, and even though the teacher had warned her to keep quiet twice already, she could not suppress the good news. Nothing could suppress her excitement that day, not even the fact that her sunday black shoes had cut that morning on the way to church, because she had run at the site of a giant millepede. Her best friend, Lanre, had laughed at her, calling her a sissy, but his words did not have their usual effect that day. All she knew was that her Daddy from Lagos was arriving that day, and that was enough to keep the sun shining all day for her.

One would think that the man's visits meant lots of sweets and gifts for her, like any other child, but for Ajibike, it meant she had a listening ear to report all her troublesome younger brother had done to her since his last visit. He was always patient enough to listen, unlike her father and mother, who expected her to be responsible for the little brat, and take punishment even when the brat was wrong. That was all she needed, a listening ear for all her stories and tales of adventure in the three farms her father had.

Her present companion was a girly girl, the type that she and Lanre sneered at when they passed by, with all the frills and stockings and gowns. Ajibike only wore gowns on sundays, even then it was until she returned home again. The sissy asked her if her Daddy Eko would bring imported chocolate, and turned away when Ajibike said no.

With no one to chat with, as the teacher had banished Lanre to the other side of the class, Ajibike dipped her hand into her favourite gown's pocket. She loved the particular lilac gown she was wearing mainly because of its pockets in front, in which she kept a variety of things like her one and only marble, her beads, her wire rings, and all other sorts. One pocket was for her while the other was for Lanre - she kept their goodies because Lanre had elder siblings that were more thorough in emptying children's
pockets than her mother, who had her hands full with her restless brother most of the time, and expected Ajibike to be a mature girl.

She rummaged in her pocket until her fingers found her favourite bead piece, which had a small groove on it. The beads had actually come from a long necklace of beads that she had worn for more than a year until her brother had pulled it apart. Since she didnt know how to string it, and her artist aunt was busy with exams, she carried some of the pieces around with her. As the Sunday school teacher commanded them to close their eyes and pray, Ajibike rolled the bead absentmindedly on her arm.

There was combined service that morning, which meant that the children got to sit in the main church with the adults, a rare treat for Ajibike, as she loved to watch and laugh at the dozing antics of the adults in the church. Ajibike settled down, and watched as Dami, Lanre's younger brother, who was her brother's regular partner in crime walked by. She knew he was looking for her brother, and she turned around briefly to look at the church entrance to see if Lanre had quit disturbing that sissy girl and had decided to enter.

She was still rubbing the bead absentmindedly on her face when she turned back - and her elbow bumped into Dami, causing her hand to push the bead straight into her nostril. Dami began crying the second he saw that Ajibike could not snort out the bead piece. The sunday school teacher ran into the church, and asked what happened. She took Ajibike and crying Dami out of the church before listening to explanations.

=--------------=
"We are so happy to see you," Ajibike's father was telling his cousin. "How are things in Lagos? Hope not too hectic for you."
"Not too hectic o," the man replied. "We are surviving."
"You still have not told me what you want to eat sir," Ajibike's mother put in as she placed a tray of cold water before him, on a stool. "We have yam, amala flour, ogi, vegetable, egusi soup, and even bushmeat."
"This your wife will kill me with food one day o,"Daddy Eko said. "She keeps forgetting that the minute I finish eating her food, I begin to fall asleep."
"That is the way it should be sir," she responded. "Sleeping after a meal is a sign of contentment."
"Where are the children?" the man asked.
"They are off to church with the maid." she replied. "Since you wont decide, I shall go and prepare your favourite. Please excuse me."
The men nodded as she rose and made her way to the kitchen. She smiled because she noticed that they waited until she was no longer within earshot before continuing with their discussion.

She was grinding pepper on the stone grinder when she heard faint voices. She stood up straight and took care to wipe her brow with the back of her hand. The voices got closer and closer. She ran to the front balcony to see what the noise was about, and gasped.

Coming towards the house was a group of about eight people, the person in the middle was carrying Ajibike and walking so briskly that the others had to practically run to keep up.

Bosi gbangba pt3

"My Daddy Eko is coming to our house today!" Four year old Ajibike whispered to her friend. They were at sunday school, and even though the teacher had warned her to keep quiet twice already, she could not suppress the good news. Nothing could suppress her excitement that day, not even the fact that her sunday black shoes had cut that morning on the way to church, because she had run at the site of a giant millepede. Her best friend, Lanre, had laughed at her, calling her a sissy, but his words did not have their usual effect that day. All she knew was that her Daddy from Lagos was arriving that day, and that was enough to keep the sun shining all day for her.

One would think that the man's visits meant lots of sweets and gifts for her, like any other child, but for Ajibike, it meant she had a listening ear to report all her troublesome younger brother had done to her since his last visit. He was always patient enough to listen, unlike her father and mother, who expected her to be responsible for the little brat, and take punishment even when the brat was wrong. That was all she needed, a listening ear for all her stories and tales of adventure in the three farms her father had.

Her present companion was a girly girl, the type that she and Lanre sneered at when they passed by, with all the frills and stockings and gowns. Ajibike only wore gowns on sundays, even then it was until she returned home again. The sissy asked her if her Daddy Eko would bring imported chocolate, and turned away when Ajibike said no.

With no one to chat with, as the teacher had banished Lanre to the other side of the class, Ajibike dipped her hand into her favourite gown's pocket. She loved the particular lilac gown she was wearing mainly because of its pockets in front, in which she kept a variety of things like her one and only marble, her beads, her wire rings, and all other sorts. One pocket was for her while the other was for Lanre - she kept their goodies because Lanre had elder siblings that were more thorough in emptying children's
pockets than her mother, who had her hands full with her restless brother most of the time, and expected Ajibike to be a mature girl.

She rummaged in her pocket until her fingers found her favourite bead piece, which had a small groove on it. The beads had actually come from a long necklace of beads that she had worn for more than a year until her brother had pulled it apart. Since she didnt know how to string it, and her artist aunt was busy with exams, she carried some of the pieces around with her. As the Sunday school teacher commanded them to close their eyes and pray, Ajibike rolled the bead absentmindedly on her arm.

There was combined service that morning, which meant that the children got to sit in the main church with the adults, a rare treat for Ajibike, as she loved to watch and laugh at the dozing antics of the adults in the church. Ajibike settled down, and watched as Dami, Lanre's younger brother, who was her brother's regular partner in crime walked by. She knew he was looking for her brother, and she turned around briefly to look at the church entrance to see if Lanre had quit disturbing that sissy girl and had decided to enter.

She was still rubbing the bead absentmindedly on her face when she turned back - and her elbow bumped into Dami, causing her hand to push the bead straight into her nostril. Dami began crying the second he saw that Ajibike could not snort out the bead piece. The sunday school teacher ran into the church, and asked what happened. She took Ajibike and crying Dami out of the church before listening to explanations.

=--------------=
"We are so happy to see you," Ajibike's father was telling his cousin. "How are things in Lagos? Hope not too hectic for you."
"Not too hectic o," the man replied. "We are surviving."
"You still have not told me what you want to eat sir," Ajibike's mother put in as she placed a tray of cold water before him, on a stool. "We have yam, amala flour, ogi, vegetable, egusi soup, and even bushmeat."
"This your wife will kill me with food one day o,"Daddy Eko said. "She keeps forgetting that the minute I finish eating her food, I begin to fall asleep."
"That is the way it should be sir," she responded. "Sleeping after a meal is a sign of contentment."
"Where are the children?" the man asked.
"They are off to church with the maid." she replied. "Since you wont decide, I shall go and prepare your favourite. Please excuse me."
The men nodded as she rose and made her way to the kitchen. She smiled because she noticed that they waited until she was no longer within earshot before continuing with their discussion.

She was grinding pepper on the stone grinder when she heard faint voices. She stood up straight and took care to wipe her brow with the back of her hand. The voices got closer and closer. She ran to the front balcony to see what the noise was about, and gasped.

Coming towards the house was a group of about eight people, the person in the middle was carrying Ajibike and walking so briskly that the others had to practically run to keep up.

Bosi gbangba pt2

"What is the issue now?" the man asked. "Haven't you taken enough for the tests?"
The child was crying silently, in her mother's arms.The nurse glanced nervously at the couple. How was she to tell them that the pathologist was out for his noon day drinking break?
"Er...the samples have been sent to the Lab sir," the nurse stuttered.
"But that is what you said twenty minutes ago!" the man exclaimed.
"We are waiting for the results sir, before we can proceed." the nurse repeated again. "

The man glared at the nurse before turning back to his wife and child. Suddenly two doctors rushed into the room and asked for the referred child. The nurse pointed towards the watching couple. One doctor quickly collected the sleeping child from its mother while another began explaining that the child had to be operated on because they believed any more delay would jeopardize the child's life.

"No!" exclaimed the mother. "That's the reason we asked for a referral! We do not want an operation!"

"But madam," the doctor replied. "she can barely breath! The only reason she can sleep right now is because she is not alert. When she wakes up she will be in a lot of pain. If you only let us..."

"Let you do what?" the mother interrupted. "Cut a hole in my baby's throat?"

"But its just a tiny hole madam." the doctor said.

"No matter the size its still a hole," the father replied. "A permanent hole. We do not consent to the operation. Why are you not waiting for the test results?"

"Tests?" repeated the doctor.

"He means these test results," another voice floated from the end of the corridor. She was tall, slim and her steps were soft and sure on the worn tiles of the hospital. As she crossed a sun beam, her face was framed for a second, and it looked more like a model's than a doctor- the mother's roving eye caught on the billowing doctor's coat again for assurance. What could this teenager be doing in a doctor's coat? She wanted to ask.

"You ran tests on the child?" the second doctor asked her, his face contorted in a frown.

"Yes," replied the lady as she moved closer to the mother and rubbed her hand up then down the woman's sleeve. The woman relaxed a little, unconsciously.

"She has a bit of apple stuck in her wind pipe." she continued. "Its not poisoning as their hospital's note said. All we have to do is give her drops that will melt the piece. We will also give her more sleeping syrup."

She looked directly at both parents as she said,"There wont be any need for an operation. Please let ur perform the procedure. It will only take a few hours."

"We don't even know these people." the mother said, looking at her husband pointedly. The doctors apologized and introduced themselves.

As they made their way back to the waiting room, the mother wondered what would have happened if the teenager doctor, who turned out to be a pediatrician, had not arrived when she did. She had shuddered when they had been told that their baby was about to be given a permanent hole in her throat. Her mind had failed to refuse to stop picturing the child, with a hole in her throat, growing up still with a hole in her throat.She pictured the humiliation, the shame, the suffering the girl would be put through all her life, all through no fault of hers.All because another woman who wanted her father had decided to 'deal with' the girl.

The mother shuddered again."Are you alright dear?" her husband asked as they sat down to wait.

"I will be if you can assure me that that witch will not spend another night under my roof," the mother responded.
"It could have happened with anyone," the father defended their house guest. "Even you."
"Even me?" the mother repeated. "How could I possibly be so dumb as to feed apple to a child that has no teeth?"
"I knew you were going to react this way." the man said in a resigned tone.
His wife just stared at him before shaking her head, also in resignation. How was it that men were blind when it concerned women that wanted them?

They sat in silence for three hours, the wife muttering prayers for minutes at a time. The husband sat back, and reminisced. He remembered when the baby was born, how he had been called aside and told that the hospital did not have an incubator, but there was a way out - they could improvise, if only they could get their hands on about ten hot water bottles and a few more thick blankets.
He'd made a dash for the university quarters, and gone from door to door until he'd gathered all he needed. His neighbors looked at him in wonder - an African man was usually this jubilant when his wife gave birth to a boy, but the father was oblivious to the the gender, and even the condition. As far as he was concerned, he had a child.
He was a father.
He had a child.

The baby had been 1.6kg at birth, and the doctors, after setting up a make-shift incubator with cardboard boxes, hot water bottles, and thick blankets, were scared when the weight dropped to 1.4kg. The baby was a survivor however, she not only survived the incubator, she survived one month at the hospital. She was the smallest premature baby to ever survive in the hospital, and as a gift, she was granted free treatment until she clocked three years of age.

But the baby was barely one year old, when an old friend came visiting some days ago, totting apples, the local species. She had insisted on carrying and playing with the baby, then on feeding her apples today. Ajibike had adapted to the new food until a particularly big piece had gotten stuck in her throat.What started as a small back-patting incident, became an alarming issue that entailed rushing the child to the nearest hospital. Thank God they had been alert and not numb, because the doctor on duty had insisted on operating on the child, even after hearing that the kid was choking on ordinary apple. They had put their foot down, and insisted on a referral.

"Sunday?" a leathery voice interrupted his musing. The father looked up, then sat up immediately. His brother, older than him with more than fifteen years, was standing in front of him. He tapped his wife gently before standing up and prostrating in greeting.

"I thought so," the man said, nodding his white head. "When that child doctor kept disturbing me that I must carry out the analysis before going to my joint for my midday palmwine, I thought she was just ranting as usual. Thank God I glanced at the name on the forms. I carried out the analysis quickly before going out. I am glad I did."

"Thank you Papa," the wife said, rising from her kneeling pose.

"What happened to my child?" he asked as he took the seat vacated by his younger brother.
"She got apple stuck in her throat," the wife replied.
"Hmm...." the man mused. "Asphyxiation, or poisioning. Was it critical when you got here?"
"The doctors from General Hospital gave her a sedative so she was still sleeping when we got here."
"General wanted to cut a hole in her throat abi?" the old man asked.
"Yes," replied the mother.
"Typical," the old man muttered. "All they have to do is dissolve the apple piece, then give her a sleeping draught, and position her so that she doesn't choke before she wakes up. That's all."
"That is what the girl doctor said," the woman said.
They all turned at the footsteps coming down the corridor. The nurse approached the receptionist first, then came towards them.

"Dr. Ogochukwu says you can see your daughter now." She said. "Please follow me."
The three of them followed the nurse who led them down the corridor as she spoke.
"She is now in the Children's ward, but in a separate room. I see you have met Papa Mankind."
"He's actually my elder brother," the father responded.
"Small world." she said.
"Yes small world." agreed the father, who entered the room after the nurse.
They were greeted by the endearing sight of Ajibike clapping her hands and shaking her crib in enthusiasm as the lady doctor sang out of tune, while she checked her vital signs.The mother's silent tears were in complete contrast to her happy laughter.

Bosi gbangba pt2

"What is the issue now?" the man asked. "Haven't you taken enough for the tests?"
The child was crying silently, in her mother's arms.The nurse glanced nervously at the couple. How was she to tell them that the pathologist was out for his noon day drinking break?
"Er...the samples have been sent to the Lab sir," the nurse stuttered.
"But that is what you said twenty minutes ago!" the man exclaimed.
"We are waiting for the results sir, before we can proceed." the nurse repeated again. "

The man glared at the nurse before turning back to his wife and child. Suddenly two doctors rushed into the room and asked for the referred child. The nurse pointed towards the watching couple. One doctor quickly collected the sleeping child from its mother while another began explaining that the child had to be operated on because they believed any more delay would jeopardize the child's life.

"No!" exclaimed the mother. "That's the reason we asked for a referral! We do not want an operation!"

"But madam," the doctor replied. "she can barely breath! The only reason she can sleep right now is because she is not alert. When she wakes up she will be in a lot of pain. If you only let us..."

"Let you do what?" the mother interrupted. "Cut a hole in my baby's throat?"

"But its just a tiny hole madam." the doctor said.

"No matter the size its still a hole," the father replied. "A permanent hole. We do not consent to the operation. Why are you not waiting for the test results?"

"Tests?" repeated the doctor.

"He means these test results," another voice floated from the end of the corridor. She was tall, slim and her steps were soft and sure on the worn tiles of the hospital. As she crossed a sun beam, her face was framed for a second, and it looked more like a model's than a doctor- the mother's roving eye caught on the billowing doctor's coat again for assurance. What could this teenager be doing in a doctor's coat? She wanted to ask.

"You ran tests on the child?" the second doctor asked her, his face contorted in a frown.

"Yes," replied the lady as she moved closer to the mother and rubbed her hand up then down the woman's sleeve. The woman relaxed a little, unconsciously.

"She has a bit of apple stuck in her wind pipe." she continued. "Its not poisoning as their hospital's note said. All we have to do is give her drops that will melt the piece. We will also give her more sleeping syrup."

She looked directly at both parents as she said,"There wont be any need for an operation. Please let ur perform the procedure. It will only take a few hours."

"We don't even know these people." the mother said, looking at her husband pointedly. The doctors apologized and introduced themselves.

As they made their way back to the waiting room, the mother wondered what would have happened if the teenager doctor, who turned out to be a pediatrician, had not arrived when she did. She had shuddered when they had been told that their baby was about to be given a permanent hole in her throat. Her mind had failed to refuse to stop picturing the child, with a hole in her throat, growing up still with a hole in her throat.She pictured the humiliation, the shame, the suffering the girl would be put through all her life, all through no fault of hers.All because another woman who wanted her father had decided to 'deal with' the girl.

The mother shuddered again."Are you alright dear?" her husband asked as they sat down to wait.

"I will be if you can assure me that that witch will not spend another night under my roof," the mother responded.
"It could have happened with anyone," the father defended their house guest. "Even you."
"Even me?" the mother repeated. "How could I possibly be so dumb as to feed apple to a child that has no teeth?"
"I knew you were going to react this way." the man said in a resigned tone.
His wife just stared at him before shaking her head, also in resignation. How was it that men were blind when it concerned women that wanted them?

They sat in silence for three hours, the wife muttering prayers for minutes at a time. The husband sat back, and reminisced. He remembered when the baby was born, how he had been called aside and told that the hospital did not have an incubator, but there was a way out - they could improvise, if only they could get their hands on about ten hot water bottles and a few more thick blankets.
He'd made a dash for the university quarters, and gone from door to door until he'd gathered all he needed. His neighbors looked at him in wonder - an African man was usually this jubilant when his wife gave birth to a boy, but the father was oblivious to the the gender, and even the condition. As far as he was concerned, he had a child.
He was a father.
He had a child.

The baby had been 1.6kg at birth, and the doctors, after setting up a make-shift incubator with cardboard boxes, hot water bottles, and thick blankets, were scared when the weight dropped to 1.4kg. The baby was a survivor however, she not only survived the incubator, she survived one month at the hospital. She was the smallest premature baby to ever survive in the hospital, and as a gift, she was granted free treatment until she clocked three years of age.

But the baby was barely one year old, when an old friend came visiting some days ago, totting apples, the local species. She had insisted on carrying and playing with the baby, then on feeding her apples today. Ajibike had adapted to the new food until a particularly big piece had gotten stuck in her throat.What started as a small back-patting incident, became an alarming issue that entailed rushing the child to the nearest hospital. Thank God they had been alert and not numb, because the doctor on duty had insisted on operating on the child, even after hearing that the kid was choking on ordinary apple. They had put their foot down, and insisted on a referral.

"Sunday?" a leathery voice interrupted his musing. The father looked up, then sat up immediately. His brother, older than him with more than fifteen years, was standing in front of him. He tapped his wife gently before standing up and prostrating in greeting.

"I thought so," the man said, nodding his white head. "When that child doctor kept disturbing me that I must carry out the analysis before going to my joint for my midday palmwine, I thought she was just ranting as usual. Thank God I glanced at the name on the forms. I carried out the analysis quickly before going out. I am glad I did."

"Thank you Papa," the wife said, rising from her kneeling pose.

"What happened to my child?" he asked as he took the seat vacated by his younger brother.
"She got apple stuck in her throat," the wife replied.
"Hmm...." the man mused. "Asphyxiation, or poisioning. Was it critical when you got here?"
"The doctors from General Hospital gave her a sedative so she was still sleeping when we got here."
"General wanted to cut a hole in her throat abi?" the old man asked.
"Yes," replied the mother.
"Typical," the old man muttered. "All they have to do is dissolve the apple piece, then give her a sleeping draught, and position her so that she doesn't choke before she wakes up. That's all."
"That is what the girl doctor said," the woman said.
They all turned at the footsteps coming down the corridor. The nurse approached the receptionist first, then came towards them.

"Dr. Ogochukwu says you can see your daughter now." She said. "Please follow me."
The three of them followed the nurse who led them down the corridor as she spoke.
"She is now in the Children's ward, but in a separate room. I see you have met Papa Mankind."
"He's actually my elder brother," the father responded.
"Small world." she said.
"Yes small world." agreed the father, who entered the room after the nurse.
They were greeted by the endearing sight of Ajibike clapping her hands and shaking her crib in enthusiasm as the lady doctor sang out of tune, while she checked her vital signs.The mother's silent tears were in complete contrast to her happy laughter.

Bosi gbangba pt 1

The man rubbed his head again in anguish, then rubbed his aching eyes, before resuming his pacing. Back and forth he paced in the waiting corridor, ignoring the pitying glances that passersby sent his way. Everytime a doctor approached he looked at their faces intently, dreading bad news.
They had already lost one baby. This unexpected one had been a God - given miracle, and now it seemed it was only a teaser.
He smiled as he remembered his wife's facial expression when the doctor had told her that her illness was another baby, not malaria. But that was four months ago. Now he had had to rush her to the emergency room because she had fainted.
He had stepped down to the car to pick something, only to return and find her on the floor.

"Hello sir," the approaching doctor asked. "Are you the husband of the woman in the theatre right now?"
"Yes, Yes," he said in a rush. "I am. What happened?"
"We are sorry about the.." the doctor began, but had to pause when the man began to cry.
"Wait sir!" The doctor exclaimed. "She still alive!"
The man looked up instantly. "She is alive?" he asked, trying to believe the words that came out of his ears.
"Yes she is sir," the doctor repeated. "I just came to tell you that you have to sign some papers. She has to be operated. I want to explain the situation to you sir, but you have to calm down and listen carefully."
"Am listening" the man replied as he walked with the doctor towards the theatre.
"Ok. We have to operate to remove the baby. I understand that the approximate duration of the pregnancy is just over six months right?"
"We are not really sure." The man responded.
"Then it might not be developed enough to survive." The doctor said."We are on a race to save your wife's life. That is what we hope to achieve. We will try our best but saving your wife's life is the goal. Do you understand?"
"Yes I do."the man replied. "Please save her."
Three hours later the man was called into the theatre.
"Your wife is fine now sir." The doctor assured him. "She will be resting now."
"Thank God!" the man sobbed again.
"And that is your baby" the doctor added. "Its a girl, and she's alive and kicking."
The man glanced in the direction the doctor was pointing to, and saw a nurse motioning for him to come closer. He peered at the tiny form in her arms, all bloody and wriggling the tiniest arms and legs he had ever seen.
"She's barely seven months old." the doctor said.
"Baby" moaned the wife.
They all glanced at the bed, the nurse hurrying to her side to show her the child.
She stared at it for a few minutes, then turned to her husband and asked,
"Are her toes complete?"
He nodded in response.
"And her fingers?" He nodded again.
"Thank God" she muttered before falling asleep again.
At 1.6kg, not longer than an Africola bottle, Ajibike was born, on the 23rd of September.

Bosi gbangba pt 1

The man rubbed his head again in anguish, then rubbed his aching eyes, before resuming his pacing. Back and forth he paced in the waiting corridor, ignoring the pitying glances that passersby sent his way. Everytime a doctor approached he looked at their faces intently, dreading bad news.
They had already lost one baby. This unexpected one had been a God - given miracle, and now it seemed it was only a teaser.
He smiled as he remembered his wife's facial expression when the doctor had told her that her illness was another baby, not malaria. But that was four months ago. Now he had had to rush her to the emergency room because she had fainted.
He had stepped down to the car to pick something, only to return and find her on the floor.

"Hello sir," the approaching doctor asked. "Are you the husband of the woman in the theatre right now?"
"Yes, Yes," he said in a rush. "I am. What happened?"
"We are sorry about the.." the doctor began, but had to pause when the man began to cry.
"Wait sir!" The doctor exclaimed. "She still alive!"
The man looked up instantly. "She is alive?" he asked, trying to believe the words that came out of his ears.
"Yes she is sir," the doctor repeated. "I just came to tell you that you have to sign some papers. She has to be operated. I want to explain the situation to you sir, but you have to calm down and listen carefully."
"Am listening" the man replied as he walked with the doctor towards the theatre.
"Ok. We have to operate to remove the baby. I understand that the approximate duration of the pregnancy is just over six months right?"
"We are not really sure." The man responded.
"Then it might not be developed enough to survive." The doctor said."We are on a race to save your wife's life. That is what we hope to achieve. We will try our best but saving your wife's life is the goal. Do you understand?"
"Yes I do."the man replied. "Please save her."
Three hours later the man was called into the theatre.
"Your wife is fine now sir." The doctor assured him. "She will be resting now."
"Thank God!" the man sobbed again.
"And that is your baby" the doctor added. "Its a girl, and she's alive and kicking."
The man glanced in the direction the doctor was pointing to, and saw a nurse motioning for him to come closer. He peered at the tiny form in her arms, all bloody and wriggling the tiniest arms and legs he had ever seen.
"She's barely seven months old." the doctor said.
"Baby" moaned the wife.
They all glanced at the bed, the nurse hurrying to her side to show her the child.
She stared at it for a few minutes, then turned to her husband and asked,
"Are her toes complete?"
He nodded in response.
"And her fingers?" He nodded again.
"Thank God" she muttered before falling asleep again.
At 1.6kg, not longer than an Africola bottle, Ajibike was born, on the 23rd of September.

Nigeria’s Bank crisis

Since friday I decided not to comment on what was going on in the banking industry here in Nigeria, partly because I was three busy, and partly because I really do not 'vent' about politics. Yes, I vent about the upcoming wedding, the office, and other things but not really about politics. But this one, I have to vent.
I read a post on 234Next about the banks crisis and the moves that CBN has made to try to change things, and it was alright. The information was shocking but still Nigerian. Then I read the comments.
I encourage everyone to click the link above and read the comments thoroughly. It appears that there are some Nigerians who don't realize that every decision-making office in Nigeria is rapidly being filled with underqualified [or in some cases, unqualified] Katsina and Kaduna state people. I started with 'it appears' cos I do not want to believe it is true. I encourage everyone to read through THISDAY newspaper, yesterday's edition.
Meanwhile this was my response to the writeup:
BANJI AHMED and all those condemning AKEEM KOLA ADEBAYO, I think you missed his point. When he was talking about tribal activity he was not talking about the banks issue alone. Take a good look at the recent activities in FERMA, PHCN, CBN and other key decision-making posts in the country - you will see that the top crop is being replaced by unqualified, or lower level underqualified katsina and kaduna men. Just look well. One retired northerner even wrote a signed statement about it - it was in yesterday's papers. I personally know that the FERMA head was sacked without preamble. That is what he is refering to, not the bank issues alone!

While CBN has the authority to caution erring banks, I do not see how they have the veto power to 'sack' bank MDs and chairmen, especially banks created by private hands. And I also agree with the fact that people's assets should not be seized to pay the debts incured from failing businesses, only the collateral.

While the US has given us till 2013 before we implode, I for one pray that the tension wont give way before then. Since friday one statement I heard during Abacha's rule has been echoing in my head = 'The northerners are born to rule. The others are born to serve them.'

Let's all start praying for Nigeria o!

Nigeria’s Bank crisis

Since friday I decided not to comment on what was going on in the banking industry here in Nigeria, partly because I was three busy, and partly because I really do not 'vent' about politics. Yes, I vent about the upcoming wedding, the office, and other things but not really about politics. But this one, I have to vent.
I read a post on 234Next about the banks crisis and the moves that CBN has made to try to change things, and it was alright. The information was shocking but still Nigerian. Then I read the comments.
I encourage everyone to click the link above and read the comments thoroughly. It appears that there are some Nigerians who don't realize that every decision-making office in Nigeria is rapidly being filled with underqualified [or in some cases, unqualified] Katsina and Kaduna state people. I started with 'it appears' cos I do not want to believe it is true. I encourage everyone to read through THISDAY newspaper, yesterday's edition.
Meanwhile this was my response to the writeup:
BANJI AHMED and all those condemning AKEEM KOLA ADEBAYO, I think you missed his point. When he was talking about tribal activity he was not talking about the banks issue alone. Take a good look at the recent activities in FERMA, PHCN, CBN and other key decision-making posts in the country - you will see that the top crop is being replaced by unqualified, or lower level underqualified katsina and kaduna men. Just look well. One retired northerner even wrote a signed statement about it - it was in yesterday's papers. I personally know that the FERMA head was sacked without preamble. That is what he is refering to, not the bank issues alone!

While CBN has the authority to caution erring banks, I do not see how they have the veto power to 'sack' bank MDs and chairmen, especially banks created by private hands. And I also agree with the fact that people's assets should not be seized to pay the debts incured from failing businesses, only the collateral.

While the US has given us till 2013 before we implode, I for one pray that the tension wont give way before then. Since friday one statement I heard during Abacha's rule has been echoing in my head = 'The northerners are born to rule. The others are born to serve them.'

Let's all start praying for Nigeria o!