Malik Ademola

Despite the voice spoke loudly over the radio, there was still an embarrassing silence that hung over between the father and son. The normal chitchat had been replaced with silent soliloquy. The details of the last night incident was still afresh in his head, the response had left him perturbed since yesterday stretching through the night, till the moment he was behind the wheel driving Jamal to school. Jamal on the other hand felt exuberant and anxious to reach The Vale College. He had missed his friends, the gossips, breaking and mending the rules, and the lifeless but enjoyable hostel life, he grinned as he thought, perhaps that (the Vale College) was the only haven he had on earth.      "how do we get through to you?" Mr Badmus had asked severing him from his thought.      "You can do that through the hostel master" Jamal replied, alighted from the car, his backpack held on one side and the luggage on the other and scooted towards the dormitory where his frien

Jamal  retired to the balcony amid awaiting the call of his name when the food was done. It was a sunday with a drizzling evening, with the rain having satiated the earth in the afternoon. Now the breeze had complemented the calmness of the evening and he had savoured it also. He sat on the cushion meditating, (that's if a deep thought about downturn of his life be regarded as meditation) but there was a lot to meditate about. He picked his jotter and pen and tried scribbling some words, aimed at finding solace putting pen to paper. But his mental state had gone beyond seeking solace by penning out his worries to a mere paper. Momentarily, he dropped the pen, rose up and motioned outside, taking a walk might gain him little relieve. "Jamal!" his younger sister had called him, but thirty minutes later, there was no response. The family had finished taking their dinner except of course Jamal who had not returned from his walk.  The evening got darker and their

  I got to ask a group of students what success is, and behold, I was astounded by their responses, the book types replied, having excellent or outstanding academic grades, while the bling bling types replied, using iPhone 7, driving a Jaguar, and living in a mansion. Weren't they right? Ofcourse they'd defined success base on their exposures. Should we hold them accountable for that? No, there's only need to change their orientation. What orientation?  In real conception, success goes beyond having academic grades or possessing the luxuries you desire to live an affluent live, but success as possession of luxuries isn't the topic for discussion today. In a broader perspective, (success lies) beyond academic excellence, but apparently these days, the procreative minds of individuals have been tainted with the conjecture that all around academic excellence is where success lies comfortably,  but could they be right with this perception?  In the contemporary wo

I wish I could wake up to a Nigeria  Where the rich would not extort the poor And the nobles respect the ignoble And the interests of the minors are protected.  I wish I could wake up to a Nigeria  Where I won't have cause to lock gates at night, And the solder won't keep a vigil Over us while we sleep,  And peace, they would pray for and not war. I wish I could wake up to a Nigeria  Where education wouldn't be for preserve of the rich And the commoners who get chance to school, Would serve themselves and not them.  I wish I could wake up to a Nigeria  Where the homeless are not left to scavenge  In the devouring jaws of the street,  And the rich already satisfied,  Wouldn't feign indifference to their wanders.  I wish I could wake up to a Nigeria  Where in the north; The cities won't be shattered into pot-shards And in the south; Vandalism rampage won't be incessant And in the west; Abduction won't be the order of the day.  I