Before the sun sets

Me-thinks financial auditing scrutinises records
and identify, for criticism, moot marks of non-accountability.
Eloquent integrity in both character and professionalism.
So, nought is expended save for the tone of their composition.
I offer to be corrected but,
Is he an auditor who at the onset of his trade declares:
“And, hither, I received no welcome!
“No banquet, nor lunch and,
As I see, no dinner will be served?”
As he pleads for pecuniary inducement
From his subjects of audit?
He checks not the accounts,
Nor for authorities to incur expenditure.
But, for piggishness and greed,
He seeks to okay the books for a price,
After all, he assumes,
Public service is boulevard for larceny.
His miserable misanthropic character
Mislays his duties to scurvy tricks to extract gratification.
What becomes of public trust?
Must we go forth pillaging, with toothsome delight,
the honour of this country?
Are we truly those who pledged
To serve this country:
“With all my strength
And defend her honour and glory?”
Do we think of the repercussions?
Won’t things scurry, if the sun sets,
Towards an assured precipice?
Come on dear Compatriots!!!
Transform, to the service and honour of this country,
Your scummy energy for these distasteful indulgences,
And believe me,
The BRICS would be but economies
heard of far behind our hind legs.   

Hope

‘It's so easy for me to write for others and so difficult to do the same for myself’, says Ms Donna Lou Holloman (@_LadyDon). She is my very good friend. ‘That's modesty especially when you espouse other peoples’ excellences’, I told her adding ‘someone should write about you as well dear Donna. Although reciprocity should not be your objective’.
Being a humble personality she wrote back to me saying ‘I don't feel I've earned that yet. Everyone has a sad story, and I've yet to earn any personal glory. I have yet to accomplish anything significant to ease the burdens or heal the hearts of my fellow man. They say knowledge is power, but held in the hand it's merely a seed until it's sown in fertile land’.
That's humility again in addition to modesty on the part of Donna. I was not surprised at her not owning up to 'any personal glory'. But I feel if someone were to write on Donna so much would be put down.
I wrote back to her therefore with a confession that I was personally aware of her deep interest in seeing justice done to society generally. I continued:

“I know of your abhorrence of impunity and its resultant tyranny against the weak of society. You have gone ahead to establish contacts and advocacy processes to see the wicked brought to book. This coming out from personal conviction for proprietary and from the fall out of the gruesome murder of your beloved son by, I think, agents of state. Having said that, I am also aware of your interest in protecting and pushing for the recognition of the rights of the neglected elements of the American society. The native American Indians for example. This, you may be surprised, has gone a long way in accomplishing significant 'ease' for the 'burdens' of and/or 'healing' of the 'heart of many a fellow man' in a manner un recognised. A very strongly willed personality with an equally strong determination to stand against inequity, within the confines of her strength, no matter whose ox could be gored. That's Donna. I also assume you are a professional in the art of photography. You also have deep interest in nature and the environment and issues surrounding them. Someone out there could write more professionally on who is Donna and what she represents.”

Today, with Donna's kind permission, I feature one of her  iconic literary compositions. It’s a Powerful message picturesquely delivered and beautifully ornamented with definite rhyme scheme. One cannot mistake the toils gone through. I am particularly captivated by the hope, the renewed hope to overcome and inspire. It is a strong statement on a robust intent to move on.
I decided to title this poem “Hope”. Enjoy…..


“I once was an eagle soaring so high
Then came a hunter's shot, but I did not die.
I fell to the Earth on Four Corners did I land.
As fierce as a tigress ready to bite off a hand.
The forest was alight, there were flames everywhere
Home for precious life went without a care.
Indignation arose, "How could you dare?! "
Death, again, escaped me right then and right there
Once, a Redwood seed lay upon a woodsy floor
By boots of a spelunker to a cave I was bore
Dreaming of fishes and seas and distant shores
I've walked through the fire and stumbled through the rain
It's time to emerge from this cave's slumber and all of its pain
The Shimmering Path we shall pave with joy for life
Instead of longing for the grave, a bittersweet knife
With spirals that flourish -a renewed purpose they nourish
Justice and Hope and Beauty and Life
To live and to lead; In serenity and peace - without malice or strife
Choosing not the paths of violence or hate,
I stand before you, humbly
Desiring to enter the Gate”

Donna Lou Holloman (All rights reserved)

The height of the month of March

The harrowing haze of a heated temperature,
Which cooks the day and night more intense,
The height of the month of March,
Wherein you squatter belly wise dripping
with profuse perspiration and heavily bodied,
Jumbled by the humid heat,
37°C in the day and 32°C at night.

Yet locked indoors you are for the night.
In Abuja the 'big man’s city',
In buildings with windows
Fortified by stronger metal might,
Behind heavy gates and doors.
The heat rages on nevertheless,
unperturbed by the buzzing of Air conditioners.

You will prefer to be in Kuje prison,
When the ‘Power Holding Company’,
Hold their power,
With no fuel in your electricity gen set,
And not owning an ‘I pass my neighbour’,
Yet you live in Kwali with its ‘advanced level’ mosquitoes,
Or in Gwagwalada with ‘pleasant’ messy gutters.

I wish things could revert one more time,
To those pristine days,
In our villages with abundant trees,
Scanty roaming vehicles and even fewer
Motorcycles which, today, emit tons
Of carbon monoxide lethal to health,
And overheating the environment.

I wish I could drag my bamboo mat,
As we did at nights in the hot season,
Call upon friends each with their doormat,
spread at the frontage of our door-less houses,
And sleep with unobstructed tranquility,
To be woken up by the distant sound of the Mu’ezzin,
Heralding the dawn and calling faithfuls to prayer,

Wish for a life ‘well spent’

The phenomenon of death should ordinarily make society to seek to do justice and act in equity within itself. One does not seek to destroy when he faces the same destiny as his adversary.

It is important for one to be identified with proffering solutions to ills which afflict society instead of  working against the good of same. If one chooses the latter he may perhaps, also, choose not to die. I have not seen nor heard of he who has found alternative to death though. One or other reasons, often beyond the convention, would ultimately result in one’s demise.

According to Dr Aliyu Namangi in his “Infiraji”:

“Death, ordinarily, manifests in wars,
Or in an inferno,
Or to a woman in labour,
It can, also, but afflict a fabric plaiter,
Who, having set to commence his trade,
May die without a start” 

The writer of “Ta’alimul Muta’allimu tariqatit Ta’alim” said:

“Were you to live a thousand years and two thousand years thereafter,
there is no mistaking the time when you shall sally forth to the grave”.

Everyone has tested of 'death' in one way or another and everyone shall one day die and be part of history in its quintessential fragrances or among its rubbish heap. 

Consider a two part poem on the phenomenon of death:

Death - 1

First my wife then followed my brother,
Then my relations and several of my friends.
With shock then passed my cherished mother.
Death weaves along with meticulous fervour,
Never too late and never too early,
Cultivating souls with uttermost tenacity,
Sure to be present at the right place and time.

It's but a Godly pre-ordination,
Whatever goes up ultimately descends,
Everything old was once freshly new,
What goes around assuredly  comes around,
An infant once now the eldest folk in town,
Make a ‘selfie’ and view your once sweet face,
Whatever begins ends through the wave of time.

 Oh death! You are eternally strange,
Ever to be dreaded whenever you appear,
We never ‘understand’ to live with your company,
You manifest in a nature we can’t compare.
So said despite departure of nearly everyone,
Except ourselves who are but on the track,
No matter the stretch and beauty of our lives.

Most often our dead are taken to the grave,
Sunk in and buried before relations and friends,
Yet ever unmindful we depart the cemeteries,
Forgetting that we all are billed to be there,
Without any shame we merry and cheer,
The dead have gone and we just got them there,
Our life goes on with its vulgarity and conceits.

Build empires and acquire all treasure,
Alexander was ‘great’ and he was wealthier.
Be powerful with all tools to pressure,
The pharaoh has left though he was mightier.
Think you good health makes you the earth’s heir?,
All the doctors in Paris felt De Gaulle was healthier.
Death feels no barrier when the time comes near.

Reflect oh you traveller,
on the vainness of scheming
against society and its noble institutions!
Your paltry being should think posterity,
“Spread no falsehood on earth after its perfection”.
Choose a convenient Posthumous epitaph:
“May God confine him to the hottest hell”, or
“May God bless him and grant him peace”.

Death – II

Strange Visitor Emeritus!
Be-tested of everyone,
With “A lotus for Miss Quon”
Or “No orchids for Miss Blandish”.

You think to live ad-infinitum?
Were it possible,
Would come to pass,
Eloping like a sparkle.

Among all thinkable Colours,
Blond or grey their hair,
Hispanic or Germanic,
Black, Asian or the Arab.

Never once fatigued,
When multitude are to vanish,
With Katrina and the fires,
Or when the Titanic sunk.

All climes are apt for its calling,
Mid-winter to the onset of summer,
When the rains fall with tact,
Or at the ‘New Yam festival’.

It manifests abroad,
Or at the safety of one’s home,
At dusk and at dawn,
To one devout in prayers.

Recall the toils of the Tutsis,
The Bantus in the South
Or Tsunami in the Far East,
And quakes in the North.

Hurricane caused floods,
Hunger and diseases,
All horrors of the poor,
Who in death seek succour.

It bears well on broods,
On honey-mooning Spouses,
On Michael and Spencer,
Or the Princess of Wales.

On beasts submerged,
Or walking on the surface,
In the wild and the home,
Despite the lamb being adored.

“Rat Race”

 What a race?

Sprinting with avidity,
Absurdly Palpitating,
In blind chase of vanity.

All eyes are gazed,
With minds so dazed,
Attention all fixated,
To this futile obsession. 

Wherefore wind and pant?
Could someone quickly probe?
Is anything the trouble,
Which makes you a psychopath?

“I must get this piece!!!”
“Though it jeopardises my peace”
“My time is a foot”
“Though I shoot everyone in the foot”

Don’t you see the path hazy?
“Nope! You think me rather lazy?”
Don’t you appreciate the huddles?
“Nope, I rather think of the goodies” 

They have no schema nor vision
To make the institution  greater,
Or think of the challenges,
To make room for a mission.

“I look forward to glory!”
Each of them asseverates.
Though it’s a source of worry
how gory their past reverberates.

Neither thinks to the future,
The bureau deserves to charter.
Nor does yesterday matter,
To appraise how we squatter. 

They scamper like goats,
Everything God they forgot,
They forgot that all deeds
Shall be accounted for indeed.

Pity!!!

Dikko Inde Abdullahi (CFR), Comptroller General, Nigeria Customs Service : A Tribute

     

Ever care to know developments in the Nigeria Customs Service? Have you cared to consider Customs as an agent of Nigeria`s development? Is leadership potent to achieving greatness in an organisation? Well be willing, at least for the first time, to be tasked a bit on developments in the Nigeria Customs Service.

Know you well how fares an institution?
First, get a grasp of its operating situation,
Then its processes and basic productions,
Whether such is Government or private organisation,
 It's leadership that drives it in the right direction,
The spirit of some was stirred to achieve greatness,
For its leader`s vision and plans for excellence,
When  some bureaus are malevolently lifeless,
Caricatures of themselves where they once stood faultless,
For dearth of he who would stir them to greatness.

Figure out Customs in its current achievements,
For the quality of its head, and his active Management,
Modernity has transmogrified its every segment,
New concepts and affiliations have painstakingly lit,
Its ethics escalating its task to lead,
In untangling complexities of the Trade environment,
Through Risks based and result oriented accomplishment,
Predicated fully within a secured cyber space,
And developed through proven domestic skills,
In the discharge of NCS` duty to the State.

The colossal `PAAR` was built with an ecumenical scope,
Its functionalities, by far, outstripping those of `RAR`,
Immensity of tasks under one grand Roof,
Developed and Christened the `PAAR Ruling` hub,
Driven by a crop of competent Customs staff,
Therein are the SO, FDVO, VCO, PARO and the RPO,
Decisive mutation to digital work environment,
When ASYCUDA transmuted + by +,
And would soon give way to `nicis` II,
For stronger Band width and more outreach.

Visit NCS` Trade hub on trade in goods,
On the touch of a button at www.nigeriatradehub.gov.ng,
Facility which eases up admission of legitimate goods,
Trade facilitation with the use of modern tools,
More revenue is collected for the nation`s use,
Borders are controlled with all energy fused,
Between agencies that work at the nation`s shores,
Inculcating the concept of Coordinated Border Rules,
To protect the country from smuggling that chokes.
Welfare of staff is raised to a comfortable stage.
Corruption at work is curved to a praiseworthy state.

NCS was re-fashioned in best pattern of forms,
With subscription to known capacity building tools,
Developed by WCO and global Trade facilitation teams,
We acceded to the WCO Revised Kyoto Agreement,
Which instrument was deposed by this Management,
We did away with ` Service Providers` of `Risk Management`,
Who constituted the worst risks to Customs Management,
In favour of the professionals in our Establishment,
We received Accolades for our superlative achievements,
For best `Service Delivery Standards` upon best KPIs.

The CGC`s message to the Trading World,
Is always relayed in very clear terms,
Through our proficient Public Relations team:
 “Be not dewy-eyed dear trader in goods”,
“Or be a `Mugu` in your dealings on goods”,
“Your dear jaunty and raffish business mood”
“Should reflect in the ethics of your trade in goods”
“Be compliant always when declaring your goods.
“Help the Service so that it would serve you good”,
“Consider your clients and your country`s good”.

The WCO West and Central Africa Region,
Suddenly came to terms with its legislation,
With the advent of this great legend,
Abdullahi Dikko Inde, the best Customs Development Agent,
On the saddle of the nation`s Customs body,
He became its Chair without any lobby,
For six solid years he gave it much courage,
Went all the way to establish a regional Customs College,
In addition to proper and more positive vigour,
He gave to the otherwise moribund regional body.

26^th May 2015

The Two But One Soul

A fairly long period of association can make couples a bit edgy with one another. By virtue of the man`s headship of the household he is likely to load upon and/or expect too much from the wife. Women could be at the receiving end of their marriage relationships especially where husbands underrate their roles in the creation of a vibrant family. Experiences have shown that many a woman is traumatized by the disagreeable conduct of their husbands. The fact is that women make the family and without them a family cannot be complete.

What the woman needs, among others, is respect to her person and appreciation of her contribution as a stake holder in the build up of the family. Deal mercifully with your wives dear husbands. Respect their point of view and collaborate with them to raise your homes. Sincerely treat your wife in a way that brings out the best in her. Consider the following few words for example:

Your face in mine appears, mine in your eyes,

Where find you two better halves?

With no squashy ends nor boggy edges,

You are all Queens and all Kings I,

Love with beams so reverend and constant,

I, like a butter fly, stand destined to surround and fly

Upon my wife, my lushly glittering Rose.

                                                                                                                                             

My love like a Liana has grown greater than empires,

Its orchards stand with matchless grandeur,

Would have loved you many years before the great flood,

My heart, plain white and spacious, waits luxuriantly,

With no gates, nor doors, nor locks,

For your sweet fragrance and loving presence,

In my heart thine soul dwells.

Our hands are cemented and too firmly locked,

    We share our tears and all stress we bear,

The sun shines on us as its everlasting sphere.

Since when you and I first one another behold,

Our love has grown an umbrageous shade,

With no yesterday, nor today and no tomorrow care,

A solid heart upon which no fault bears