I’ll take it back

Sometimes we are stuck in that valley; dead center in the midst of towering mountains, lost, cold and devoid of inspiration. Every man has this moment of tribulation where it seems like his peril is just a step away.
I know I’m pretty much exaggerating my situation but yes, I was stuck and devoid of inspiration.

Until someone agreed to share her write ups with me and like a light bulb, a pretty slow one.. Still took me a while before I picked up my pen but she did inspire me even though I never quite appreciated her for it.

So miss Mimi Oriame, thank you for your indirect surge of inspiration.
Do have a Happy Birthday and I pray you have a super-awesome day inspiring tons of people like you did me. To think it all started with me meeting you cos I was hyper as a result of my injections. Lol. 🙂

Congrats again and Have a wonderful day..!

P.s.. I know I suck at poetry but thats the only genre I’ve been able to write anything on for now. I won’t say I dedicate it to you but you sure helped me in picking my pen again. Thanks.

—–

I get blinded by very little
I could boast of that
But so much has changed of late
The tingling has ceased
The sparks that littered the air non-existent
Her smiles don’t keep me in awe anymore
And slowly, a monster beckons in me
Threatening to engulf what makes me
What’s left of me

* * *

Things were awesome yesterday
Now life runs in a cycle of grey
As the colors fade out of my view
Leaving me to this mist of nothingness
The gust strikes my heart time and time again
Yet, I feel no chill
But emptiness
A void of blankness
I miss what makes me
I miss the warmth that accompanies her stares
The glee in her eyes when they look into mine
The shivers in my legs when I feel her touch

* * *

I fear I’m broken
Loneliness continues to bite at my insides
Tearing me up bit by bit
And I cannot but hope for a remedy
A miracle
Magic
Anything
Else I’ll reside in this abyss that is loneliness
Devoid of colors and stars
Missing her warming touch and tender kisses
The world I’ve grown to love
I miss it all.
I want it all back.

Mike Dammy

I’m still a learner shey?

Insights

I noticed it the first time but I wasn’t sure. So I chilled. The instrumentals kept creeping into my ears like beautiful incense and I wondered If most of our local artistes were immune to calm, insightful instrumentals.

The umpteenth time it played, I had confirmed my fears. This was my sub. Omari was subbing me but then I remembered I barely knew him or him me. Said a couple of HI(s) around school but that was about any contact we ever had. He wasn’t subbing me in particular. He was subbing myself myself and a billion other guys out there.

Guys prone to thinking they don’t become Exes. That no matter what, we can’t become leftovers. No, that’s a problem for through ladies. We leave rejuvenated like phoenixes reborn out of our ashes. The ladies could be the ashes for all we know but we don’t care. We just fly off to our next intending target, set the P, send the DMs and start the process all over again. Many walk around with this mentality and I daresay that’s a whole lot of bullshit.

It’s fair to say we are but visitors in this world and one day our souls would jet off to God knows where. So why delay or dilly dally? Since you only live once, live it large. Wreck hearts and leave self esteems destroyed in your paths.

We won’t be the first.
Our forefathers did exactly this.
They relegated their women to the background. Rendered them worthless. Barely worth a half-man. Inconceivable of anything great except It’s a delicious steamy pot of soup. They cast veils upon their faces like they didn’t subscribe for the same life package we had. Or they didn’t all suck identical mammary glands.

True, that situation was appalling.
Today, It’s worse. Balance has shifted slightly. Now we have two general classes of women; the good and the bad. And the bad are triumphing well. Or so they think. If only they understood that this same men would flutter to the sides of the good ones when marriage or anything serious beckons. They’ve failed to see beyond the one night stands and club orgies and rendezvous.

It’s sad to see that morals are considered with a pinch of salt. The crave (and craze) to enjoy life has clouded decent judgements.
Who’s to blame foe this?

I say everybody.

But permit me to remove the log in my eyes before I leave you to yours. I have lost one too many good girls in my short life in my quest to enjoy life just more. I aim high or so I think.  Video vixens, Club trouts and half naked ladies must be exploited and fast.
The struggle is real.
And If you can’t get any of them, you grab the nearest good girl and convert her. Immediately you’re done, you scamper off to your next prey… Promising heaven and earth and love that doesn’t exist. Consequentially, that “good-turned-bad” girl you left joins the lot and goes on rampage herself. Now she understands the concept of YOLO. Sad I tell you.

In conclusion, someone tweeted this this morning;

That She’s a good girl does not mean She’s the right one

True. Very true. Every good girl out there won’t fit in with your temperament. Do yourself and the world world a favour then and leave her to herself and let the right one find her. Don’t further invest in the bad girl’s ever growing reservoir.

“Falling in love is easy, Staying in love is the hard part.”
If you’re not ready, stay away from it.

I could have sugarcoated this but I’m done doing that anymore.

* * *

This post was inspired by a single from revolutionary rapper and poet; Omari ( @AybeeOmari):
Bloom Baby Bloom

You should listen to it. It’s awesome and insightful. Just click the song title above to download it.

Have a wonderful day.

Mike Dammy

You Make The Difference

You make the difference _ Sourced from Google

You make the difference _ Sourced from Google

Taking a break from our ongoing series, Diary of a CU student (Not that we have a choice, internet connection can’t seem to find the charts this days)… If you haven’t read them, you should though ;  http://t.co/9Ys3WN4FXi

Tonight, we bring quite a speech. Delivered by a 13 year girl, you would think it was scam but as I watched her, I had to admit; I was getting too old. Time isn’t on my side anymore if am to make an impact on the world. If a 13 year old child could make the world leaders in her time pause to think, you are old yourself.

So below this is her speech, I hope it inspires you as it did me. But most of all, I hope you get motivated to start on the road to making a change.

Bless you.

__________________________________________________________________________

UNITED NATIONS CONFERENCE ON ENVIRONMENT AND DEVELOPMENT.

Rio de Janerio 3-14, June 1992

Hello, I’m Sverri Suzuki speaking for ECO, the environmental children’s organization.

We are a group of 12 and 13 year olds trying to make a difference; Vanessa Suthe, Morgan Geisler, Michelle Quigg and me. We’ve raised all the money to come here ourselves, from 5000miles to tell you adults you must change your ways.

Coming up here today, I have no hidden agenda, I am fighting for my future. Losing my future is not like losing an election or a few points on the stock market. I am here to speak for all generations to come. I am here to speak on behalf of the starving children around the world whose cries go unheard. I am here to speak for the countless animals dying across this planet because they have no where left to go.

I am afraid to go out in the sun now because of the holes in our ozone. I am afraid to breathe the air because I don’t know what chemicals are in it. I used to go fishing in Vancouver, my home with my dad until just a few years ago, we found the fish full of cancers. And now we hear of animals and plants going extinct every day, vanishing forever. In my life, I have dreamt of seeing great herds of wild animals, jungles and rain forests full of birds and butterflies but now I wonder, if they would even exist for my children to see.

Did you have to worry of these things when you were my age? All this is happening before our eyes and yet we act as if we have all the time we want and all the solutions. I’m only a child and I don’t have all the solutions but I know I want you to realize; neither do you. You don’t know how to fix the holes in our ozone layer, you don’t know how to bring the salmon back up in a dead stream, you don’t know how to bring back an animal now extinct and you can’t bring back the forest that once grew where there is now a desert.

If you don’t know how to fix it, please stop breaking it. Here, you may be delegates of your government, business people, organizers, reporters or politicians but really, you’re mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles, and all of you are someone’s child. I’m only a child and yet I know we are all part of a family, five billion strong, in fact 30 million species strong and borders and governments would never change that. I’m a child and yet I know we are in this together and should act as one single world towards one single goal.

In my anger, I am not blind and in my fear, I am not afraid of telling the world; this is how I feel.

In my country, there is so much waste, we buy and throw away, buy and throw away,… buy and throw away and northern countries would not share with the needy. Even when we have more than enough, we are afraid to share, we are afraid to let go of some of our wealth.

In Canada, we live the privileged life with plenty of food, water and shelter. we have watches, bicycles, computers and television sets. The list can go on for two days. Two days ago here in Brazil, we were shocked when we spent time with some children living on the street. This is what one child told us; I wish I was rich and if I were, I would give all these street children food, clothes, medicines, shelter and love and affection.

If a child on the street who has nothing is willing to share, why are we who have everything still so greedy? I can’t stop thinking that this are children my own age that it makes a tremendous difference where we were born. That I could be one of those children living in the favela of Rio. I could be a child starving in Somalia or a victim of war in the middle east, or a beggar in India.

I am only a child, yet I know if all the money spent on war is spent on finding environmental answers, ending poverty and finding treaties, what a wonderful place this earth would be!

At school, even in kindergarten, you teach us how to behave in the world. You teach us to not fight with others, to work things out, to clean up our mess, not to hurt other creatures, to share and not to be greedy. Then why do you go out and do the things you tell us not to do?

Do not forget why you’re attending these conferences, who you’re doing this for, we are your own children. You are deciding what kind of the world we’re growing up in. Parents should be able to comfort their children by saying; “Everything is going to be all right…” It’s not the end of the world and we are doing the best we can” But I don’t think you can say that to us anymore, are we even on your list of priorities?

My dad always says; “You are what you do not what you say”. Well, what you do makes me cry at night. You grownups say you love us but I challenge you, Please make your actions reflect your words.

Thank You.

____________________________________________________________________________

Wow right?! 13 years old…?

Exactly what I thought. but then every bit of it is true. A young girl made the world (Leaders) stop to think. You can do the same. You are not too young, Never forget that.

You can make the difference this world needs.

Thanks for viewing and reading the post. If you do have anything to share. An Idea, an article, a message of hope, anything, do send them in. We would be happy to put them up.

Good day and God bless.

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Don’t forget to subscribe to the blog to get updates in your email on new episodes and articles, Like our Facebook page and follow us on Twitter;

@damstylee, @mystique561, @kolstoppa

Thank you for Reading.

Mike Dammy

In Memoriam of Tayo Fakiyesi

Hey there!

Welcome back to your favorite blog, I guess…..

Well, today we introduce a new writer on the blog; Mr Vi Davies (@schouse) . He introduces himself with a memoriam to a great mentor and teacher; one who he and many other Unilag students have benefited greatly from.

Please endeavor to share your comments and views at the end of the post and subscribe to the blog for updates on future posts.

With that said, I’ll leave you to Mr Davies to be inspired.

Be blessed!

• • •

In Memoriam _ Sourced from Google

In Memoriam _ Sourced from Google

JULY 1, 2011

It was a Friday, the last day of the week, and usually we were billed to have the regular early morning ECN 421 macroeconomics class with our teacher, Professor Tayo Fakiyesi who was also the current head of department at that time. I individually looked forward to this class, as for someone like myself that had been bearing a deep ideological-based grudged against the system of education I met in the University of Lagos; Professor Tayo’s class was a markedly different one from the lot and his intuitively analytical and concentric way of dispensing knowledge, especially given his attitude and persona as someone who wanted to be portrayed as a running stream of intellect that arrived at theories by dialectical discourse incorporating every possible facet of relevant thought, and the privilege to have been taught by the “only one in Lagos”, the secular cliché used by colleagues, students and sundry informed admirers alike to refer to his eminent position as the only professor of economics in all relevant academic institutions within the Lagos jurisdiction was for me a joy unbounded by the continuum of being well grounded in theory on one hand and the combined psychedelic and esoteric attributes of his learned persona on the other.

On this particular Friday, he had in characteristic fashion beat the heavy rains to attend class sooner than the vast majority of us despite the toll on his own health and having found only a few of his usually large audience in turn out, he took attendance and left, and our class representative later without grace passed on to us a replica expression on his face that meant he was angry, disappointed and disillusioned with behavior one wouldn’t have expected from students in the final decisive lap in the race towards obtaining the golden fleece.

But other than possible disciplinary and corrective measures, the day was to have stern, ill-fated and gravely wicked realities for us (am in tears as I remember this). By evening, while an ergodic section of us the male folks of our class held banter and wit in the Biobaku Hall of Residence, Dami Sanni, an executive member of our class came with a grave look bearing the grim, evil news. Before voicing it out in terse and graphic Yoruba “HOD ti sha laisi” (The HOD is dead), my mind had hazarded the worst probabilities and I had come to the same conclusion. In the grave solemnity and derailing effect of that moment, I broke down in shuddered tears as my philosophical faculties tried hard to grasp the fact that I would no more maintain a physical connection with a man whom against all of my own ideological whims of not maintaining a beyond formal relationship with my tutors, I began to take on as a friend, teacher and elder companion in the quest of making sense of this journey called life, although he was not aware of the last line of responsibility I bestowed on him.

So we all accepted the truth, made an offertory prayer for his repose and then I went to the bathroom to sob. So no more Tayo again, no more that man with desire to teach and inculcate only whatever made the UNILAG graduate the best in the world. And for consolation, I tried to provide a reason why fate would do this to me of all people and then the answer came.

Work. Tayo Fakiyesi was a workaholic, he breathed his passion for education both home and abroad, office or class, meeting or relaxation and wherever or whenever an idea held sway in his mindset; he would almost subconsciously pause to think through before continuing with the matter at hand. Here was a man at 64 that wouldn’t delegate his work to junior staff, attended to treating class work at midnight and only had a small bit of exercise each day to keep in shape for the same objective; Work. But he is gone now and it’s a year now. I miss him dearly and am pained by his sudden exit but he’s gone.

But what stamps the pain and grief each time his face crossed my mind remains how his legacy left behind has not been emulated in spirit and meaning by the department he worked so hard to revive, reinvent and redefine. Fakiyesi loved to help the students learn and in the process never condemned anyone as incapable of lofty academic achievement except the person in question formally resigned his or her self to such a fate. But the department over which his tenure has H.O.D saw some remarkable changes of academic and relevant nature has made no commitment individually or collectively, formally or informally, religiously or scientifically as it were to surpass the standards of service he set.

I will not bring the details of that in public light but the Department of Economics has and is still disrespecting the dead by not honoring his life by their far from graceful and benevolent attitude to their business; the providing of concentric type heuristic based approaches as a convergent means to effectively derive leading-edge theories and an organic institutional transmission mechanism between the learned and the learned that encourages the globally adopted trend of the philosophical whole-greater-than-sum  process and its products as being the final ends of the educational process.

Professor Tayo Fakiyesi’s death is a huge blow to the faint hope that I have that a new psyche will be instituted in the mass of Nigerians to be committed to a life of purpose, humanity and selfless love for societal progress. He along with the unfortunate victim of the February 23 storm in Lagos made worse by greed and collective unpatriotic attitude of the entire Nigerian society, Pastor Godspower Ekpenyong of St Gregory’s College who incidentally was another former lecturer of mine I encountered in the secondary arena were rays of light dimmed by the severely depressing and defeating dark consciousness of the rest of Nigerians awakened only to greed, self-recognition, egocentric orientations, corruption, tribalism and a laziness to break the limits of endowed potentials for the success of humanity’s ambition that we have a better world as a place to enjoy this ephemeral journey from uncertainty to uncertainty called life.

As the curtain falls on the day that marks one year since your exit from my life, Tayo, with all due respect and love, I am saddened but have decided to console myself by ensuring that my life is nothing short of the same word and elegies that were and are used to describe yours by those who truly understood, appreciated and most of all shared who you were and are.

Goodbye Professor Oluwatayo Fakiyesi.

• • •

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@damstylee, @mystique561, @kolstoppa

Thank you for Reading.

Bless…

Dedication : MOYO JUYI Design samples

To those of you who asked for MOYO JUYI designs, here they are. They are not limited to this though, there is more than enough catch phrases where that came from.

Another plus to the MOYO JUYI designs; You can decide what you want written on the shirts. Pictures, catch phrases, charts, logos, anything, MOYO JUYI would design it for you. You can also contact him through BBM and Twitter. Check the previous post for them. 😉

Had to add this one. ;)

Had to add this one. 😉

Dedicated to a Father worth remembering.

A father loved.
A father to be cherished.
One never to be forgotten.
One to meet again in paradise.

I can’t say I love mine than he loved his, but I saw their relationship and I envied.
Their bond so strong, only death could tear them apart.
How I wished to have a connection just like theirs, but that wish is no more because little did I know that their relationship was at its 11th hour.
Little did he know that the father he looked up to would be gone forever so soon.
But life took its action; so unprecedented, it caught everybody off guard.
Mr Death arose and took its choice; the wrongest one I would say. But who am I to judge when God acts.
We would just have to wait and see how all these plays out and pray the silver lining coming soon is worth every darkness this opaque cloud has brought.

We are but pencils in the hand of the creator.

This post is a dedication to a friend and a brother(name withheld), one whom I love dearly who just lost his father and to everyone who has lost a father or knows someone who has.

Damstylee