Monday, 11 February 2008
Answer three questions correctly and win free recharge cards...
The questions will run between tuesday and wednesday;
Submission of answers closes wednesday-
Successful participants will be contacted on thursday morning
When another series of questions will come up.
[PLEASE SEND CORRECT ANSWERS TO: firstname.lastname@example.org and indicate
how you want the recharge card to be sent to you if you got the
QUESTION 1: The FC and FC2 female condom can be inserted into
the vagina up to how long before sexual intercourse?
A. Up to 30 mins
B. Up to 4 hours
C. Up to 8 hours
QUESTION 2: How many condoms were donated to developing countries
around the world in 2005?
A. 30 billion
B. 1.8 billion
C. 18.7 billion
QUESTION 3: In the US, the mark of which government agency shows that
a condom has been quality approved?
A. The federal Department Agency
B. The Fifth Department for Contraceptive Aid
C. The Food and Drug Administration
Nobody knew what tomorrow would bring. Was Ozi dead? Was he being treated secretly somewhere? Every day, in its issue, The Conscience newspaper published the undying words of Ozi, the same piece of words found in the pocket of Handy, the shooter: Our society is nearing the brink of a precipice where each man and son, each mother and daughter will seek justice not at the law court; not from the legislative chamber nor through executive fiat, but we shall one and all seek justice through the pull of a trigger…draw the blood of atonement from the evil heads of corrupt cops guilty of wanton extrajudicial and careless killings.
No matter what appetizes their taste for madness and murders, these corrupt, murderous officers will meet their waterloo one after the other. I am not a prophet. I do not own a crystal ball nor borrow one to gaze into. But the grass of the fallen innocent victims shall be watered with the blood of these trigger-happy policemen: the hunters and murderers. And after this long darkness, a new dawn; a new system of things; no triggers will be pulled. At that time it will be an honour to approach a cop – a dignified police officer; and not a hunter, a murderer. The conscience and the pen are much more lethal than the gun!
As part of the anniversary marking the first year of Ozi’s shooting, The Conscience Crime Editor was interviewed. “Mrs. Phib Dukka, do you see the end of guns on the street in sight?”
“It will take some invincible force to take them away!” she had answered. With that interview, many concluded that it would take an invincible force to bring Ozi Francis back.
WHAT WE SEEK
there are things to learn
there are things to recall
many things to understand
many things to experience
many things that buffet the soul
many things that baffle the eye
and the waves of wishes cannot wash them away...
mother to care for
father to attend to
siblings to provide for
friends to cherish
heartthrob to adore
neighbours to accommodate
and enemies to bless...
what about passion that punishes the flesh
feeling that bares fangs
thought that torments the soul
and think of moment of mockery
when expectation implodes
in the face of realization...
we are dying to live
we are living to die
if you know life, you have seen death
life and death run riotously in our mortal veins
is life a painstaking pain in the neck
a cataracted dust in the eye
an elephantiasistic swelling on the leg
an uproarious upset in the belly
a migraineous ache in the skull
or a bulging boil in the armpit...
we seek the power of endurance
we seek the energy of hope
we seek the sacrifice of love
we seek the gateway of eternity to the ben of bliss and tranquility
we seek the meaning of yesterday and today
and the greater meaning of tomorrow...
can cessation be bliss
illusion may be sweet
like a measure of life's fleeting pleasure
may life's illusion not overtake us...
what do you seek?
YOU AND I…
i watched a whispering palm sharing
hush-words with a soothing wind blowing
i listened with awe as a bird sang away her heart
with such reverberating rendition
my heart reaching a new height
in ecstatic delight of a fusion of sounds
a symphony of sonorous sing-song
where was i when nature began to speak?
i began to concern myself with what lay in my hand
about the dreams unshared and those unfolding
in my hand
i saw thread of lines running across my palm
like an undying childhood memory
that crawls with old age
in my hand
i held a destiny that was eternally mine
and a future that was undyingly yours
i opened my eyes
i opened my hand...
i have dreamt of whispering palm and chirping bird...
i am yet to hold your hand in my hand
i am yet to see you beyond the waves in my head
that hit against the rocks of my heart
i opened my mouth
drew a long breath and wished for words
i wished for words upon words...
i lost their echoes in the sea of my wandering mind
there were times words have failed me until i opened my mind
i opened my mind
i found missing meanings and muddled musings
i opened my mind
i found untitled feelings and uncompiled thinkings
and i kept opening...
i kept opening and opening and opening my mind
i reached my heart
the seat of motivation
i closed my eyes and went groping inwardly...
i found a plethora of passion and reason
i found a euphony of voice and silence
i found, i found, and i found
i found there's no end to the depth of my soul
i found in my moments of reassuring myself
that i was worth the world's affection
that i was worth the world's attention
i found you
i found you adding more bright colours to the canvass of my life
i found you
i found you from a distance drawing ever closer to me
i found you like a rare gem never to be lost
never to be traded; never to be abandoned...
i wondered could friendship be this strong and real?
could distance engender nearness?
what magic do we hold for each other?
i wondered why are we both standing hand in hand
shoulder to shoulder in our mindsets?
could this be a slow passing fancy?
like the sands of the sea are
can one possibly find answers to them all?
why would i?
why would you?
why would one grope in the darkness of distance
for a face not ever seen before?
i paused for not knowing it all
even the depth of my heart
i paused for knowing what my heart yearns for
i paused for knowing what i do not know...
i paused for i cannot possibly share what i don't have
...for knowing what i seek is the future
and it is in the future
i paused for you to look me in the eyes
i paused for you to search out what your own heart harbours
i paused for you to add better meaning to your passion and reason.
Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?
Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed? !
Why don't you ever see the headline "Psychic Wins Lottery"?
Why is "abbreviated" such a long word?
Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?
Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid made with real lemons?
Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?
Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?
Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?
Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes?
Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?
You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes?
Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?!
Why don't sheep shrink when it rains?
Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?
If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?
If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?
Certain questions bother the human mind which only very few are brave enough to ask. Many avoid such questions like a plague when they concern GOD, the Creator, the Supreme Being, the Alpha and the Omega. Many ponder over them only in the recesses of their hearts. They sleep with such questions and they die with them. But human progress has not been achieved by unquestioned acceptance of myths and beliefs. We are where we are today by inquisition, by challenging tradition and popularly accepted norms and practices. We might as well rack our brains and prod our intellect by considering one of the controversial questions people shy away from – IS GOD PARTIAL?
To a casual observer this question is deeply preposterous. Can God who sends rain on both the theist and the atheist, who allows the sun to shine on both the good and bad, who gives freely the breath in all, and allows the same red blood to flow in all veins: white or black, Arab or Jew, tall or short, young or old, be partial?
But then, some of humanity has always asked particularly in their moment of despair and desperation: since God created all living, why are some people black and some white? He says of Himself in Exodus 4:11 that he makes the blind and the seeing, the deaf and the dumb as well as those who can hear and speak. Why do some people deserve to be lame and some born without legs at all? Why do some people die of cancer and some peacefully in sleep? Why are some people born in America and live an enviably fulfilling life while some are born in Somalia, where want, disease and deprivation are their permanent companions? To the Somali God is partial to have created him a Somali. To the blind, God is partial to have allowed him to be born without eyes.
What do you think? Is God really partial? Please your reactions are welcome.
-by funso babatunde.
GSM [GOD SEND MINE]
the thing beeped
i heard a voice bellow
bawo ni bello?
in a mellow:
i dey Yemoo…
with his dilating owl-like eyes
roving his bloated face
his blabbering mouth wide
like mama-put stainless plates
clutching to his distended cheek
the general symbol of magpies
with an exclamation mark
hanging ominously over my head
my coconut head that caricatures
my body frame
with my palm firmly set
against my granite face
will put me through to God
will send my message beyond clouds
will knock on heaven’s gate for me
will motor me through the narrow lane to endlessness
will make me triumph in the tunnel of
ten thousand temptations and trials
but, the palm of the hand
does not mislead its owner
my two palms confluencing
in meditative gesture
will connect me beyond connections
and inspire me beyond imaginations…
ethereal thread of umbilical cord untied
from the august visitor
maternity agog and the wildfire of good news
spread on to the plateau of Jos
happiness rent the air in kisses and tears
the cries of pain imploded into infantile wail
oh like mother like son
the august sun stood still and shimmered on the
soft splattered smile of the face welcomed by every race
in this world there’s for everyone a place
where’s the father?
he heard the news and the happiness was bringing
him home from the Mambilla
this is the birth of a new breath of life
come home quick and kiss the bundle of bliss
in suns and moons to come
what will the august son bring?
with dreamy brown eyes delicately buried in fragile sockets
he seemed to be telling them
the days ahead are housed in dungeon of dreams…
i am the dreamer the liberator.