AGAINST NATURE? NO WONDER WE’RE NOT GROWING…

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“Appreciating the beauty of a blossom, the loveliness of a lilac, or the grace of a gazelle are all ways in which people can, in some small measure, fill their daily lives with evolutionarily inspired epiphanies of pleasure.”
– Buss, 2000, p. 22 READ MORE

Just like every other Nigerian (know it or not), I am proud and terribly ashamed of the tag Nigerian. Not at the same time though, but independently. I am proud and the main reason (the only one, if you mind) would be that I was born Nigerian, in Nigeria and have never stepped out of Nigeria (except in my dreams, of course).

I am ashamed because in spite of the opportunities God (or whoever/whatever you think is our benefactor in this regard) has given my nation to be a great country (you may want to disregard the fact that we have once been great as independent, sovereign nations that would later be amalgamated into this contraption that has without repentance been difficult to fathom), she has refused to yield, standing giripa like the obstinate dog intent on getting lost in the wilderness.nature4

Someone should kindly stop me in my tracks before I start pretending like a pretentious songster, waxing lyrical about nothing Continue reading

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Pharmacy, why we do what we do? Just musing….

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“I am black; I am in total fusion with the world, in sympathetic affinity with the earth, losing my id in the heart of the cosmos — and the white man, however intelligent he may be, is incapable of understanding Louis Armstrong or songs from the Congo. I am black, not because of a curse, but because my skin has been able to capture all the cosmic effluvia. I am truly a drop of sun under the earth.”
Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks

 

A few days ago, I was privileged to have a chat with some colleagues, a great people with whom I pretend the possession of the global best knowledge of drugs (I believe the meaning hasn’t already been construed), especially as it pertains to therapeutics; hence, patient-oriented; well, in our own part of the world (hopefully changing), almost diminished merely to dispensing of drugs (not even the best of it, that is). For the moment, and in sync with our acquired (almost inborn) comfort zone, let’s content ourselves with the fact that “we’re Pharmacists and we’re proud to be Men of Honour”.

Our concern this time was the significance of the choices we have made and that we make a living of, just by making. Why do we do Continue reading

ASUU Strike Update: Hear no rumours; read no lies; see no evil

 

The strike embarked on by the Nigerian academics has entered its 5th month and of course, one can only say with all certainty that we are getting closer to the date of resumption. When will that be? Don’t ask me.

On Monday, the 4th of November, G.E.J. the President of Nigeria led a league of Nigerian money bags cum politicians to a crucial, last-resort renegotiation, meeting with the team of ASUU leadership. This meeting, from hearsays and ‘readwrites’, lasted between 2.45 pm on Monday and 3.30 am on Tuesday. That indicates some commitment on both sides of the FGN and ASUU. I’m not particularly interested in saying the same thing of the FGN delegations who have meddled in the affairs of ASUU before now. Not anymore a business of ours, anyway.obafemm Continue reading

I’m in a mess. ASUU is on strike. Again. For the umpteenth time, that is

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“I find that the great thing in this

world is not so much where we

stand as in what direction we are

moving: To reach the port of

heaven, we must sail sometimes

with the wind and sometimes

against it – but we must sail, and

not drift, nor lie at the anchor.” –

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

(29 August 1809 – 8 October 1894)

The name, Musa Parad Isiaka, is that of a fictional character that I intend to be the protagonist in a novel. I’d been nursing the idea of this novel for some time now. For lack of ideas at the moment however, I have elected to gloss over a short period in the life of one Nigerian academic, who goes by the same name. Hence, whatever narrative you read below differs greatly from that of my novel protagonist, at least in their conception.

This period, I innocently wish (like a child is wont to) would ultimately become somehow inculcated into the novel, as events that constitute a major telling bulk of the novel. And when it does, it may just come up as a dream that can’t either harm or make (I’m not here referring to a prophetic dream, mind you). I plead, no one should spank me for all I’ve said and will say, especially for having a “head full of cobwebs”, like my mentor would say, if you know what he means.

If you must know, my usual reaction every time he said it was to gently rub Continue reading