The Children's Song - A Poem

by Adesinmi Olatoyese

This is a poem by the novelist and poet, Rudyard Kipling.

Enjoy!

Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee
Our love and toil in the years to be;
When we are grown and take our place
As men and women of our race.

Father in Heaven who lovest all,
Oh, help Thy children when they call;
That they may build from age to age
An undefiled heritage.

Teach us to bear the yoke in youth,
With steadfastness and careful truth;
That, in our time, Thy Grace may give
The Truth whereby the Nations live.

Teach us to rule ourselves alway,
Controlled and cleanly night and day;
That we may bring, if need arise,
No maimed or worthless sacrifice.

Teach us to look in all our ends
On Thee for judge, and not our friends;
That we, with Thee, may walk uncowed
By fear or favour of the crowd.

Teach us the strength that cannot seek,
By deed or thought, to hurt the weak;
That, under Thee, we may possess
Man's strength to comfort man's distress.

Teach us delight in simple things,
And mirth that has no bitter springs;
Forgiveness free of evil done,
And Love to all men 'neath the sun!

Land of our Birth, our faith, our pride,
For whose dear sake our fathers died;
O Motherland, we pledge to thee
Head, heart, and hand through the years
to be!

© Rudyard Kipling

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What You Read Stays in Your Head and Makes You A Better Writer

by Adesinmi Olatoyese



If you want to learn new vocab words, the conventional idea is to stalk the dictionary, right? Or maybe go online and find a list of relative words that are of moderate difficulty, or maybe use a software. If you've tried any of those, there are chances you end up forgetting those words, which is a result of one thing: context.

But when you read a material (book, journal, etc) and come across a new word, there are chances that while you may not know the exact meaning of the word, you have, even if fairly, an idea of what it means. And that's because of context. This way words tend to stick to your head, and that's a step towards improved writing.

Again, if you've ever been marveled by the level of intelligence reflected in some author's work and wish to write as adroitly as they do, I bet it is a result of the residual knowledge from the books they have read in the time past. And to be like them, read. Read. The legendary Stephen King has this to say:

“If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”

What you read stays in your subconscious and when you write, your brain will start recalling those ideas. It reflects in your writing making you appear as though you're well informed in the topic of discourse. Dr. Seuss once said…

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.”

…and true are his words

So if you want to be that intelligent writer every newbie writer wants to be like, why not pick up a book now?

More to this, have you ever experienced how easy it is to write about what you know than it is writing a piece that is about ninety percent reliant on research? Even if your piece needs a study or survey or research to reinforce your points, there'll be an easy flow of ideas and organised thoughts observable in your work.

In conclusion

Whether you want to be a great essayist, newspaper columnist, great fiction writer or poet, your best bet is to invest as much time into reading.

Try it, your work will never remain the same.

What do you think?
Share your thoughts in the comments.

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Taking People's Picture Without Their Consent

by Adesinmi Olatoyese

...is not right. Period.

Being served my own pie of the preposterous act reminds me of the story of a woman who had to re-tell a story about her that went viral on social media.

To be frank, the woman has massive hooters, which got the attention of many perverts on the streets of Lagos. As if embarrassing her by crowding her is not enough, some took their stupidity further by taking her pictures (without her consent, of course) and attached different stories to it. Some, unbelievable; some outright ridiculous.

As the woman recanted, it was her friend that informed her of the stories circulating the media with her pictures strategically illustrating the different tales. And guess what, it is a different story entirely.

Maybe I should tell you this one, too. It's about (me and) some of my classmates:

We were at night class preparing for an exam scheduled for the next morning. But towards the middle of the night, many guys started drifting off and some of the others guys that weren't sleeping when others were, started taking pictures of those sleeping. The annoying part is that they took the pictures when “boys” were enjoying it deep, adjusting to the most humorous postures ever. Unfortunately, none of us (even as I wasn't sleeping) knew when all of these was happening. We only got to know of it when those pictures were all over WhatsApp with different captions. So embarrassing.

Now to my own story

I have an exam the next day, so I took almost all the hours the night before off sleeping—jacking (hey, it's reading; not street robbery), as we call it. The next morning, the sleepy me continued reading but with intermittent yawn. More hours into it (reading), my eyes became heavy; couldn't hold the sleep back any longer. But hey, I will be writing a paper in few hours, so I continued reading even as apparent I couldn't assimilate jack. At that point in time, sleeping is the costliest thing on earth. Bet.

As I enjoyed my sleep-reading, yawning with my mouth so wide it could give passage for two apples at a time. I leered, surveying around with the corner of the eyes, trying to see if everyone is concentrating on their books and not on me.

Suggested Reading: On Ants, Their Lifestyle and Lessons for Us

What a relief — nobody noticed, even if they did, it was covert. But just as I was about turning the pupils of my eyes back to my book, I saw the camera of a 5.5" phone turned directly towards me. Huh! “what the hell is he doing?”

In a flash, I challenged the person holding the phone; even as it is unlike of me.

The following ensured:

“Boss, I see you're snapping me.”

“No,” he said with a head-shaking gesture.

Not minding his reply, I said “Can I see your phone?”

He didn't hand me his phone, though, but I watched carefully as he swiped through the recently taken pictures and behold … selfies! He was taking selfies, but because he was using the front camera, his phone's rear camera has to point at me. (:

“No vex, bro. As I see your camera facing me, I think say you dey snap me.”

“But,” he said, “you're handsome now.”

He is not the first, and most likely will not be the last, to tell me that. But this is not about looks; it is about what happens to the picture afterwards – what they do with it and how far it travels.

“No vex,” I apologized as I dragged myself back to where I was sitting.

God forbid I log on to Facebook, or worse, Nairaland someday and see a meme featuring me and my buccal cavity widely open like a lidless bucket and a book before me with jump-into-lagoon captions. Ah!

End of story.

If you take pictures of people in postures they're are not proud of, or without their permission, please stop it. It's a terrible thing seeing one's picture being used for rather unspeakable things.

Stop it; it's not right. It may even haunt them.

Just stop it, abeg.

______

Lights out.

Quick add: There's another picture of a guy reading on the ATM queue. Mehn! the captions are hilarious. I pity the guy though.

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How Did You Find Your Nickname?

by Adesinmi Olatoyese

Because I've not seen mine yet.

Or was it given to you?
Even if so, you probably have given someone else, too.

And, hey, I mean the good ones; not the crazy ones, pleeassseee.

I've been trying hard for years (yes, years) to give myself a befitting nickname, a nickname that depicts some awesomeness, but haven't had any significant success with it. I have never found that one nickname that gets me wowing.

I take this issue seriously, because wherever I go, I hear great nicknames—ones that has some conformance with the bearers, and it gives me some kind of push. You know those nicknames you hear and would be like “wow! that's nice. How did you come by it?”
And when I ask, people's responses center around two options: taken or given.

By taken, I mean giving oneself a nickname. When people look around themselves and pick one they think fits them—something I've not been able to do. It can be in accordance with their personality (more like the persona they desire), or by shortening or acronymizing their name(s).

When I asked someone how he came about his nickname, he said: “because I read a lot and I think I'm brilliant in my own way.” That's personality.
Also, when you hear names like “Scorpion,” “Python” etc. You know what to expect as they border on personality, too.

When Patrick gives himself Pat, or when Romoke Akpos Mai gives herself Ram (lol), that's shortening at play in the first case, and acronymy in the second.

OK now, let's say I want my nickname around being awesome (yes, I wanna be super awesome), should I give myself awesome? That's sour. What about Awe? My Yoruba Language won't allow me; not like it makes sense in English. Some is a no-dare. So that can't work, or perhaps I should choose Writer? impossible!

*Sighs*

Should I shorten my names?
If you are (or speak) Yoruba, you know that's not even near possible.

Alright, let's try given.

By given, I mean those nicknames that people give to other people. It usually surround some event, mostly ones the bearers are not proud of.

Suggested Reading: What to Write About

This kind is undesired, and people don't want to identify by it. You will fight anybody that address you by it dirty, but your friends—those that gave you—are just stubborn.

Other times—and rarely, of course—some of the best nicknames come out of this.

Intermission:

Truth be told, writing this piece has become boring to me, so I'm looking for the nearest exit.

Most times when I get an idea about a topic, they're the greatest on earth and I can't wait to write on them, but by the time I commit some of them to paper, like those undesired nicknames, I sometimes don't want to be attributed to them.

Although, I am reluctant to admit that it is not every idea that is worth writing about, I think this topic is one. But my “writer mind” won't allow me. (:

Let's end it here on that note.
The question, however, remains: how did you come by your nickname?
PS: Those of you that have more than one awesome nicknames, I envy you.

Share your thoughts in the comments.

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O Pale Rider - A Poem

by Adesinmi Olatoyese

This is a short poem from the stable of Yours Sincerely.

This poem is about the general belief about the Pale Rider, death, and what I wish for in order to be a victor.

Enjoy!

O Pale Rider!

 

They say everyone shall have a taste of you/
Rich or poor, rule or ruled/

They say you grip with rigor/
From your grip, thus, no savior/

They say you're the Destroyer of Desires/
No matter what one aspires/

Don't come to me till I've impacted the world/
With my deeds and my words/

That is all I wish for/
“That I may be a victor”/


©2017 Adesinmi Olatoyese

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A Drunk and His Bottles

by Adesinmi Olatoyese

This joke was sent to me on the popular instant messaging platform WhatsApp, and I thought I should share it with you.

As with most broadcast messages posted on social media, it doesn't carry the name of the Original Poster, hence the reason there's no attribution.

Enjoy!

A drunkard woke up one morning deeply repentant after a bitter fight with his wife the previous night.

He noticed with dismay the crate of beer bottles that had caused the fight.
He took it outside and started smashing the empty bottles one by one onto the wall.

He smashed the first bottle swearing, “you are the reason I fought with my wife."

Suggested Reading: O Pale Rider - A Poem

He smashed the second bottle, “you are the reason I don't love my children."

He smashed the third bottle, “you are the reason I don't have a decent job."

When he took the fourth bottle, he realized that the bottle was still sealed, full and cold. He hesitated for a moment and said “you stand aside. I know you were not involved."

LOL

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On Ants, Their Lifestyle and Lessons for Us

by Adesinmi Olatoyese

I sat in front of my house, relishing the greenness of grasses; the blueness of the sky—which, however, later grew black, pregnant of rain; and the brownness of the earth.

I got tired of admiring the grasses and the sky, but I stuck with admiring the soil.

Was it browner than it used to be?
Or perhaps, the soil is something I don't see regularly?

Nay!

What brings about the fascination was some tiny creatures, in Science (or Biology) we'd call insects, engaging in an exercise, which in the human world we'd call hustle.

I was sure they were moving, but I couldn't tell whether they were walking or they were running; the speed was too much for a walk and too low for a run.

As I admire their hardworking nature, I also wonder what kind of wonder I seemed to them.

Perhaps I am some kind of giant.

They wouldn't worry too much about it, anyway; it's “something" they see every day.

Even if they have at a time wondered what sort of creation figures like mine are, it'd be in the time past, because as at the time I took my time with them, they'd have gotten used to it.

They were busy, moving to and fro mainly in groups.

I saw a group carrying pieces of biscuits, which must have dropped from the one a busy mother used in placating her crying child to God-knows-where.

A distance away, I saw another group carrying the carcass of another kind of insect bigger than a battalion of them combined.

While I watch a group struggle with their own item, another would surface, striving against the forces of the reluctant item they were porting.

On and on, this goes.

“Where are they carrying all of these to?” I queried.

I watched in excitement as a group waded through into a hole; their home.

Other groups do the same, successively.

These busy, tiny creatures are called ants, and what they were busy doing was: saving for the rainy days.

The ants do everything they could in times of surplus to stock their holes – their home – with any and every kind of food item, and then retire to these ‘stocks' in times of scarcity to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

***

It is funny how much the human race is ‘stocked' with enormous and appropriate words to describe the activities of the ants, but has a hard time exercising them.

In the narration, I used the words "a group" predominantly. It then is quite un-understandable – not understandable – why us humans find it hard to work as a group, let alone work effectively as one.

Suggested Reading: A Drunk and His Bottles

Whether these ants are of different race, religion, etc we can't tell, but with certainty, we can tell they have different minds, which, of course, is the harbinger of individual difference. As such, we can say emphatically, that they are different – different from each other.

It is the mind that harbours the thoughts that we divide ourselves in whatever line we so have, and the ants have got it, yet they co-exist and work effectively. Perhaps they are aware that united they stand; divided they fall—yet another adage from human beings.

Like someone you know, they know if they work together they can make their kingdom great…not again but all the time.

***

As obvious in the narrative, the ants are said to be saving for the rainy days they know would come.

I'm not sure if they know when the rainy day would be, but they sure know it will come. And to save themselves of the adversities of the rainy days, they saved!

Again, it is un-understandable why us humans don't do this. I mean – why the majority of us "enjoy the moment" so much that we forget what happens afterwards.

People (and countries) revel so much in good times, but fail to prepare for when the times wouldn't be so good. Thereby suffer during these not so good times. They then begin to ramble on semantics, giving the not-so-good times different names, which at the end point to the same situation; rainy day!

One of the many ways people contemn saving is prioritising wants over needs; extravagance over providence.

We are sure “after famine comes abundance," but hate to hear of the otherwise, which can be managed if precautionary measures – such as saving – were taken.

Youth exorbitance is another problem; youths "enjoying the life of their head" so much that they forget that the bones and cartilages, the strength and power of their youthfulness will at a point wither.

The ants would retire to their 'stocks' during scarcity. What will you retire to?

What will you retire to when good times and tides wave you bye-bye?

What will you retire to?

What do you think?
Share your thoughts in the comments.

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