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After Years Of Tussle Gov. Ganduje Makes Emir Sunusi Happy For The First Time

http://opr.news/s13b2ec93200226en_ng?country=ng&language=en&client=news

One battle won! Kudos! Opens a new theatre and a fresh battle front though – one touching on the child directly and the other in an indirect manner. The child beggar must be returned to school. Some serious work on mapping – schools and beneficiary mapping is therefore necessary. We need you to write Op-Eds to this end. Set your PhD and Masters students on this. Child centricity is the key. So we have a largely supply side driven primary response that needs to be pushed. Una be agenda pushers naa! We need strong compulsive stories, powerful narratives with all the spin, frame, fact based emotional appeal and advocacy inducement that you can garner and fire.

Next is to call attention to the need for care and attention for adult beggars in the short and medium terms. Remember the SDGs, remember leave no one behind, remember inclusivity! What are the response options? Suggest some – adapted skills training, work for food, public work schemes, social safety net programmes, minimal functional literacy. Dig into your ideas brainstorm! Let us throw out the ideas. Let them say that the ideas are not workable. Unless the beggars are equipped to gain a living in other ways , they will be back on the street and the children with them. Politicians pronounce, policy makers and civil servants pounce to implement without adequate reflection save for considerations of pecuniary gains (prebandalism at its best) and the result is pain and waste. Let us save our country from waste for the sake of our children.

Noel Ihebuzor

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The association of saints….

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A song on waiting

visionvoiceandviews

By Noel Ihebuzor

 

The evening limps on dragging feet

slowly, the enlarging darkness of night

overruns the day

urging the dying day to bed and rest

the lights die out

as silence enfolds the enveloping darkness

and she waits

 

 

Time crawls on millipede feet

seconds last long like sluggish minutes

sadness and worry rest heavy

heavy on her restless pacing feet

(occasionally stamping feet)

as a damp blanket

 

Between pacing, stamping and sitting,

she stays on, stays up, eyes heavy

soul heavier, spirit drooping

wrestling with the harsh hands

of hurt and reality

that now strangle her dreams

and choke her soul

 

she checks the hum of every passing car

ears straining and acute

hearing the silent footfalls of footless spirits

responding to the call of the night

as they glide to their nocturnal haunts

 

And she wishes she could go forth like them

but she cannot

worry has…

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