Monday, 5 March 2018

The Glistening Light

As He lay still on his bed listening to a song by a famous musician, He reminisced about the day's work
and taking a quick glance at his wall clock, He grabbed his cellphone and placed a call across to his dawg Wale.
Jimmy had just gotten a promotion and  a raise at work and He decided to hit one of the clubs in company of his bosom friends. Their relationship hadn't always been smooth. They started on a rather shaky note.  It all started one Tuesday morning at the schools' hostel in the University.
Wale had been allocated a bed space in room 105, but due to his delay in clearing the space, the
hostel porter decided to play a fast one and make some money from a 'free' space.
As fate would have it, the porter had sold Wale's bedspace to Jimmy who had offered the porter a heavy envelope valued at three times the original price. That Tuesday morning as Wale checked into the hostel after legally clearing the space, in a bid to settle down into his space, he
was met with resistance from Jimmy who also produced 'documents' which arrested to the fact that he also had a claim to the space and was in fact the first in time.

The two boys in a bid to act responsibly, decided to resolve the issue at the desk of the porter.
To compound issues, the porter who had sold the space to Jimmy had gone on annual leave to have fun with his family utilizing the proceeds of his mega deal.
This kind of occurrence was not novel to the porter who was on ground as most of them
resulted in engaging in the nefarious activity to keep body and soul together since the Federal
Government had forgotten they were employees.
The issue was however resolved and Wale was allocated the next bed space in the same room with similar furnishings.
Finally, both boys later settled their rift when they discovered they were from the same part of the country.
The whole hostel incident happened a long time ago and both men had since put that incident
aside only referring to it when they were in company of friends who inquired as to how they both
came to know each other.

Jimmy concluded he'd stop by Wale's and they'd both proceed to the club to have some liquor
and some laughs to celebrate the arrival of the next level in Jimmy's career.
Few hours later, both men had hit the club. It must note escape mention here that Wale wasn't
doing badly either. He had secured a good job in a multinational corporation and was also raking in a good amount of money in basic and allowances. So this meetup was money clashing with money.
After much chattering, both men felt it was time to head back home. Jimmy dropped off Wale at his condo before heading home.

Both men had made it substantially and not withstanding their affluent backgrounds, they hadbeen able to carve an iche for themselves in the big city. Things are certainly looking bright for the roommates turned brothers.

Monday, 11 December 2017


It was September. The rains had resumed after a not so absolute break in August.
I sat in my room all alone. The vegetative view from my Window was beautiful. It had been a good year so far. I had no doubts that the remaining months of the year would be beautiful as well.
No one assured me of this though, but I could feel it in my soul.
Music was what gave me insights into many things which I did.
Not just any music. I had a knack for listening to what my contemporaries would tag "old school". Some of my favourites included Janet Jackson, Michael Jackson, Sir. Elton John, Don Williams (Gentle Giant), Phil. Collins, just to mention a few.
These artists had their reign during the late 20th century. It was the 21st Century and other artists had emerged, some with equally soothing tunes but I guess I just couldn't let the 20th century tunes go.
The lyrics and instrumentals were to 'die for'.
These tunes accompanied with some prose fictitious works made my day, day in and day out.
It came as no surprise to my acquaintances and friends when I began writing and recording tunes that were similar in tempo and rhythm to that of the aforementioned artists.
In the light of this, I wrote some songs which were a little bit hard for me to voice, not because I wasn't a vocalist, but simply because of what every Man who loves to sing calm music fears...I began to grow up. My voice became deeper, I had to practice voicing various 'rhythm and blues' music so as to maintain my sound, but like they say, "you can't cheat nature".
With this in mind, I became comfortable with my voice and restructured the songs I wrote to fall into my voice pattern. These were calm songs which I could voice with a little ease.
It would shock the reader to know that despite the change in my voice, I didn't have any issues when I performed live on stage. I was known to thrill my audience.
One scenario that easily comes to mind is a performance I did at a dinner during my birthday in the year 2016.
A famous blog at that time reported that after my performance, the somewhat dull event began to brighten up.
I just loved music, what was different about me was the simple fact that I preferred live performances and in these, I most times opted for only the instrumentals of any song I was to perform to be played.
I felt by so doing, the audience could feel the music and appreciate my vocal prowess. I must confess at this juncture that this actually paid off because in time, I was known as a vocalist and lyricist by all and sundry.
Thus, during the August break, I decided to start making short videos and vocal recordings of myself singing some of my own songs and also those of other artists whom I admired. It was during this period that a friend of mine, a former roommate and a rap artist stumbled upon one of my short videos in which I voiced a song without any instrumentals, the name of this my friend is YUWA. He was so surprised at what I could do. He immediately gave me a spot on his Extended Playlist  (E. P) which he was working on.

In November of that same year, as I listened to an instrumental, musical lyrics formed in my subconscious. After scribbling down what I tagged a chorus, I replayed the beat and this time I discovered one or two rap verses could be included to make the song something different from the norm which I had recorded before. With this in mind, I played some rap songs and I stumbled upon ZADE'S "Juice cover". The song caught my attention and so I played all his songs which I had and found out that he was a philosophical lyricist although a little blunt with his lines.
That instance, I contacted ZADE. He responded positively after I sent him the instrumental and the chorus.
By the evening of that same day, we had been able to put together a song which I titled "SUBCONSCIOUS".
ZADE felt this title was not appropriate for the song due to the thematic makeup of the song. He suggested the title "PROMISES" and that was how we rounded off the writing aspect.

On the 22nd of November, We met at the studio and within a few minutes, we had recorded the song.
It must not escape mention here that the person who admonished and persuaded me to work with ZADE was Sede Gracious  (called "Maxzi" by me).
She played a sacrosanct role in making the song to be birthed.

The song titled "PROMISES"  ft ZADE drops on the 12th of December 2017.

An overview of my musical journey thus far, I can confidently say that I have made tremendous success.
It must not escape mention here that the person who saw my ability and encouraged me to record a song with him is Mr. Caleb Ibizugbe (Kaybee), a talented lyricist and vocalist. We have recorded two songs together as at the time of publishing this article.
After all said and done, I can only say that things would get better by God's grace.

Conclusively, I'd tell everyone to grab my latest song titled "PROMISES" Da Jandy ft ZADE.
It's a break from the norm.

It's "Da Jandy" on this one.

Friday, 3 November 2017


He was walking along the path which led to the cathedral in the village. The Portuguese had constructed this centre of worship in the 19th century. The building still stood gallant amongst all others in the microcosm where he called his place of origin. The architectural perfection gave the place of worship away as a piece brought into existence by the magic fingers of the Whiteman. This was the 20th century and the building still looked good as it has always been.
Just a few metres away from the cathedral, a loud sound was heard followed by screams and scrambling of person's trying to get away from harm's way.
A quick glance ahead, exposed a group of devils incarnate coming towards the cathedral wielding glistening knives, the unmistakable look of person's ready to snuff out life from anyone who stood in the way of their holy war.
Prior to this moment, the community has boasted of peaceful coexistence between all and sundry, but at this very instance, that was watered down to a historical fact.
The atmosphere was tensed. Jim saw some of these men who wielded arms summarily thrusts their knives into fellow humans and Chant words which hitherto were chanted only in the confines of their place of worship or in a gathering of fellow faithful.
A stunned Jim at a quick glance, recognised the victim of this onslaught... it was the boy living in the house close to the cathedral. Few minutes later, several other persons lay dead courtesy of these 'holy warriors'.
Just when Jim regained full control of himself, one of the young men who was an accomplice to the onslaught, saw someone peeping at them and instinctively threw a weapon at Jim which narrowly missed his forehead but not without leaving him a scar on the front top of his head. Bleeding and in excruciating pains, Jim ran for his dear life, the young man pursued Jim till he lost site of the lad before he turned back from his fruitless pursuit to rejoin the remaining men who were busy ransacking the community with the sole aim of ending the lives of as many persons as possible.
Acute pandemonium engulfed the whole community. The onslaught as Jim later discovered was being carried out simultaneously at different locations of the community by these similar looking gruesome young men.
He saw various dead bodies lay on the floor carelessly. The journey home seemed to take forever despite the fact that He had been on his feet, running nonstop since the young man pursued him few metres away from the cathedral.
It took him few minutes to get home.
"Mama what is happening? "
Jim's mother was glad to see him safe and at home with her, She examined the injury on her son's head, found out that he had been involved in a near death situation and the only thing her frail mind could do was to thank her God who had chosen to spare her son's life, but the cries of person's who had been maimed came rambling through the neighborhood signifying the fact that this massacre had just begun...
Only time would tell if Jim and his mum would be spared from the onslaught. Then again, if they are spared, who would tell the tale, and who would be there to listen...

Wednesday, 16 August 2017


On Monday August 14, Justin Okonoboh lost his job as the Speaker of the Edo State House of Assembly. I watched part of the proceedings where the Right Honourable Speaker was roughed up as one of the members pushed him out of his chair. This event happened on the 99th day since our dear President Muhammadu Buhari travelled out of Nigeria on medical tourism. Okonoboh shared the same fate with his predecessor, Victor Edoroh, was also removed last year. Though they threw some punches, none of the Honourable members ended in the hospital or the mortuary as it once happed in the National Assembly.

By our laws, whatever a member does on the floor of the House is outside the ambit of the law. He is fully immune from prosecution for both verbal and physical assault. Once in Ibadan, during the Western Regional crisis in the 1960s, one of the members jumped on the table, snatched the mace and crashed it on the head of another member. In the melee, the police already dispatched into the House of Assembly on the order of Prime-Minister Abubakar Tafawa-Balewa, threw tear-gas into the chamber as members ran for cover. That was the day the Premier, Chief Ladoke Akintola, was supposed to be replaced by another stalwart of the ruling Action Group, Chief Dauda Adegbenro. It was a Mission Impossible as Balewa later dispatched his friend and personal physician, Dr. Adekoyejo Majekodunmi, to take over the government of the West as Administrator. It was a grim prologue to the coup of January 1966 during which Balewa and Akintola, among others, lost their lives.

The First Republic was the era when Nigeria was blessed with many colourful politicians. Now, politicians of colour are rare and far between and except in the dull business of sharing money, there is hardly anything to talk about politicians anymore. Gone were the days of the multi-syllabic pronouncements and jaw-breaking grammar. Yes, you may refer to the Honourable Patrick Obahiagbon of Edo State who has patented his own version of speaking in tongues, but then, he is a lone ranger whose harsh parroting cannot be compared to the creativity of the past.

We remember the lore of Mazi Mbonu Ojike, one of the most ardent followers of Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe. In the fight against British colonial rule, he enjoined all Nigerians to “boycott the boycottables.” His colleague, Kingsley Mbadiwe was the master of the multiple words to inflict which he used freely on friends and foes alike. He was the man who invented the phrase, “a man of timber and caliber.” During his brief estrangement from Zik, who was the master of Lagos politics for several decades, he told the crowd: “If Zik is iwe (book), I am iwe too!” Dr Azikiwe was so knowledgeable, we were told, that Americans had already booked to preserve his brain for eternity when the inevitable happens. He was the original iwe man. After his defection from Biafra during the Nigerian Civil War, Mbadiwe said the Nigerian Civil War was “a battle of bicycle versus caterpillar!”

Of course, the most colourful politician of the old West was Chief Adegoke Adelabu, the Lion of the West. Adelabu, who had the best result ever when he graduated from Government College, Ibadan, was the indefatigable leader of the opposition National Council of Nigerian Citizen, NCNC in the old Western House of Assembly, Ibadan. Once he bought one of those big American cars and drove it to the front of Mapo Hall where the Ibadan City Council had its headquarters. The four doors of the car were flung opened and the people, Adelabu’s people, filed in from one door and exit the other side. Everyone was happy. “Has any of you ever entered Awolowo’s car before,” he asked.

Ibadan has always produced its men and women of colour. During the Second Republic, the dominant Ibadan politician was Chief Busari Adelakun, alias Eruobodo (the river is never afraid). He was one of those who brought Chief Bola Ige of the Unity Party of Nigeria, UPN, to power in 1979. His formal education was minimal but over the years he had accumulated knowledge of the streets and had the rumbustious instinct of the born-general. He was a game-changer by the time he pitched his camp with the opposition National Party of Nigeria, NPN, in 1983.

The politicians of the Second Republic knew the worth of colourful words. During his campaign for the 1983 Senate on the platform of the Nigerian Peoples Party, NPP, Chief Arthur Nzeribe, the controversial millionaire declared: “I will meet NPN fire for fired, blow for blow, rigging for rigging, rice for rice, salt for salt and naira for naira.” In another theatre in Ondo State, the UPN was returned to power after the mayhem of August 16 and 17, 1983. During one of the session at the Ondo State House of Assembly, the UPN leadership accused the opposition NPN members of planning guerilla warfare to counter the resurgent regime of Governor Adekunle Ajasin of the UPN. The NPN members denied planning any such violence. Dele Awopeju, one of the UPN warned them: “If you bring us guerrilla warfare, we shall reply you with elephant warfare!”

In the current republic we have to be thankful to Chief Olusegun Obasanjo and a few others who have brought colour into politics. Otherwise, we would have had nothing to talk about except looting, which our beloved President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan explained to us is different from stealing. In his early days as President, Chief Obasanjo visited Kogi State. One over overzealous policeman out to impress the President, in other to control the crowd, used his bilala freely. The President saw him. Obasanjo then had the policeman brought to him and he received an unprecedented presidential canning.

It was Obasanjo who reminded us, despite his age and his crowded public engagements that ”I de kampe!” He also showed us that he may be out of power; he is not out of influence. When the National Assembly was pussy-footing about confirming Goodluck Jonathan as President, Obasanjo gave it a push. When Jonathan was challenged by a gathering coalition of leaders, he simply dismissed the challenge by declaring “I dey laff o!”

Jonathan, dismissed as clueless by his political opponents, at least gave us an unforgettable First Lady, the incomparable Dame Patience Jonathan. We have learnt in recent months that she had a rich mother who maintained bank accounts in dollars. None of the past First Ladies could match this record, not even Maryam the Second, wife of the Goggled One. It took time to convince the First Family that the Chibok girls were indeed missing, kidnapped by the fearsome Boko Haram terrorists. Then she summoned the relevant officials from Borno State. Overwhelmed by the enormity of the crisis, she wept. “This blood you are sharing!” She wailed. She humanised the office, despite her calculated clumsiness and evident shortcomings.

Now we are faced with men and women who want to be correct all the time. Alhaji Lai Mohammed, the Minister of Information, confessed to a CNN reporter that indeed Senegalese jollof rice is better than Nigerian own. It shows that apart from managing a battery of microphones, the minister is also adept at managing his taste bud when rice is involved. Aso Rock Presidential kitchen may need his services in this regards when the President resumes in the other room.

However, in the current dispensation, no arm of government has shown so much creativity like the National Assembly. Gone were the days when Dino Melaye, once a famous pugilist of the House of Representatives, knew how to measure his punches. Since then, he has become the singing mascot of the Senate. No one could ignore him including those who disagree with him. It must be a welcome development for him that now he has a dancing partner from Osun State. We may not have food on our table and kidnappers and terrorists may be on the prowls, but at least we have something to laugh about. Such is the colour of this republic today that it has indeed has captured the essence of Fela Anikulapo-Kuti eternal lyrics: suffering and smiling.


This article was coined by Nelson Scottfield.

Monday, 6 March 2017


She pushed Jim to the wall. It wasn't the first time she had to do this. Jim had constantly yelled at her for petty things, ranging from not making his coffee the way he loved it to other infinitesimal issues.

Yetunde was a woman who found love in the arms of the wrong man.
She had gone to Soft-life shopping mall to pickup groceries that afternoon. She faced difficulty picking the right red wine for her mini get together which she organised to celebrate old friends and new friends who had become a part of her life.
It's pertinent to chip in here that Yetunde was a banker at Goldmine bank plc.
She had gotten the job immediately after school. She was smart on the job which enabled her to rise to enviable heights within few years of working. Not undermining these successes, she always saw herself as someone who needed to do more; being a perfectionist.
Facing such dilemma as to which wine to pick, Jim a well built, tall and eloquent young man noticed the somewhat confused face of a young lady. He approached her and said "with the amount of brands popping up daily, it becomes cumbersome in selecting a specific brand".
Yetunde who was not really in a relationship at that time immediately had a keen interest in the young man who stood besides her.
"Exactly what I was thinking about" said Yetunde.
Jim picked "Cuvée Spéciale" a brand which was made by "BARTON & GUESTIER".
"These would do, (Jim handed a white wine and a red wine to yetunde) this French company produces the best wines as far as I can tell".
Jim introduced himself and so did yetunde.
Complimentary cards exchanged hands and both persons left the mall.

Throughout the get together, Yetunde thought of Jim. Such a gentle man. She felt he looked too young to be married yet.
Her mind was averted back to present things on ground by her colleague and friend.
Everyone made a toast in honour of Yetunde who had amassed much successes in all ramifications save for the very thing that Africans held in high esteem; she had not gotten married.
It was about 8:30pm in the big city.
Yetunde gave a vote of thanks to everyone who took out time to grace the occasion. Everyone went home leaving yetunde to herself.
Once more, She felt the strong need to get married. She wasn't getting any younger. Due to her dedication to her banking job, she hadn't paid much attention to men who made advances towards her. She treated every man as a bank customer "strictly business" was her watch word.
On setting eyes on Jim earlier that day, she had this feeling he could be the one. She picked up his complementary card and scanned through. Jim was an international business man. No wonder he knew much about foreign wines she thought.
She had an urge to place a call across but on a second thought, she felt it wasn't ladylike to do so.

Jim on the other hand, had not remembered to even glance through the card which he received at the mall. It was a week later when his laundryman returned his clothes, that he saw the card which Yetunde gave to him.
He decided to place a call across to her on a weekend.
Yetunde had also erased the thought of Jim from her subconscious since he didn't place a call through she felt he had someone in his life already.

"Hello !  Am I speaking with Yetunde? "
"Certainly" responded Yetunde.
"and who may this be please? ".
"It is I, Jim. We met at the mall sometime ago".
"Oh good evening Jim. How is business and the family"
"Business is fine, besides I don't have a family of my own just yet".
The last line of the statement made Yetunde's ears tingle.
"You mean you aren't married yet? "
"I am still single and searching"
Jim replied.
Both parties met at a restaurant and chitchatted.
From thence a relationship began to brood.

Yetunde wasn't bothered to really observe Jim all round before becoming his wife.
She wasn't sceptical about the fact that such a wealthy young man was still single hitherto meeting her.
Love they say is blind. Few years down the line and Yetunde began to discover why Jim hadn't been in a relationship before meeting her.

Jim had chronic bad habits. He kept late night's despite being a married man. Also he had a love for wines and other alcoholic beverages.
He spent good money on a lavish lifestyle. To crown it all, he was also a title holder in the act of beating women and since he was somewhat confined to Yetunde, he used her to train and perfect his gift from the devil. He constantly abused her love.

They were still childless after years of marriage. This wasn't due to the "act of god", rather Jim had constantly beaten each fetus out of Yetunde simply because she didn't open the door quickly or because she slept in.
Also due to lack of trust, Jim had made Yetunde his wife resign from her good job to become a full-time housewife who required everything from her husband.
Yetunde who was formerly the pride of everyone suddenly became diminished after marriage.
She couldn't phantom the manner with which her life took a dive.

That particular evening, she had cried her eyes out. Then from the darkness emerged a man-like figure completely submerged in the aura of alcohol. He banged the door so hard. Yetunde knew it was Jim. As he had finally found solace in the arms of so many fanciful bottles.
As soon as the door came open, Jim held Yetunde so close and tightly on her arm, almost crushing her bone.
In excruciating pains, Yetunde pushed Jim to the wall.

Jim was filled with dutch courage at this moment.
Two quick slaps landed on the face of his wife, garnished with blows and kicks. His bloodshot eyes obscured his vision but determination to his mission egged him on to complete his destruction.
Few minutes more and Yetunde was stone-cold.
"Yetunde, Yetunde" Jim called but the lady was gone.
It all happened in a flash. Another woman, a victim of a woman-beater.
The autopsy revealed Yetunde died from convulsions resulting from severe blow.
Under normal circumstances, Jim ought to face the law, but like they say "the law was made for man and not man for the law".
Due to his affluence, the case was swept under the carpet of the police soon after some wands of cool cash exchanged hands.

Few months later, Jim is married again.
People believe he hasn't changed a bit. Anyway let's hope and pray he doesn't kill another, as that would translate to serial killings.

Various cases of Women-beaters hit the desk of the arm forces but they are treated with such levity. It behooves on everyone of us as humans to fight against such criminal activity.
Also in a situation where a woman discovers she's constantly a gymnastic equipment, she should speak out before the only voice which is heard from her is that of utter silence.
Also men should desist from beating women for fun or other purposes.
It's all a matter of the mind. When you don't think it, you don't do it.

Da Jandy.

Tuesday, 21 February 2017


A prose fictional work written by Da Jandy.
This story follows the life of a young man from a micro community in Nigeria.
Facts of his life, his struggle and his imminent success are aptly couched in black pen.

Coming soon on this blog.


Saturday, 24 December 2016


We had just returned from the Nine lessons and carol program put together by St. Luke Anglican cathedral.
It was December 20th that year, and my family was glad to have my siblings and I around for the Christmas celebration.
The Archbishop of my Diocese was in attendance. It was he who delivered the sermon. He spoke about the true meaning of Christmas and went all the way to reiterate the fact that the Person who we were celebrating actually came to die for the world, so as to bring about everlasting life for mankind.
Mum was particularly glad to have all her kids and grandchildren around.
It was a regular ritual since I and my siblings began raising kids.
My mum had particularly demanded we all came back to town to celebrate Christmas as one big family. This Christmas was special.
As we all drove in a convoy returning from the carol service, something struck my mind..... The true meaning of Christmas. I must confess that for donkey years I had just seen Christmas as a period to fraternise with Friends and Family through eating and drinking alongside having a break from my tedious work schedule.
The Archbishop's words kept reoccurring in my mind..... the true meaning of Christmas and the need to reverence God in this period and beyond. My parents had earlier on decimated this information to everyone in my family when we were kids but I personally took it with levity basing all my attention on the miracles which my mama made for us as kids during Christmas period.
After about thirty five years of hearing the same sermon over and over, I finally got abreast with its true meaning.
The drive was quite fast and of course quiet for me due to my thoughts. My wife said some words which I Didn't take cognisance of, I only smiled and nodded to her words so as not to make her feel sad.
After a while, I got home to my Dad and Mum in company of my Siblings. My elder brothers and sisters didn't ask me questions despite seeing my outward disposition. I guess they felt I was old enough to handle any issue I had. If it were about thirty years ago they would have paid a little more attention to my facial countenance.
Four days later and it was Christmas eve. Dad asked me to lead the morning devotion using the devotional guide. As fate would have it, the topic bothered on the true meaning of Christmas. I was glad that at least I could get some of my thoughts out of my chest.
My face was brightened. I spoke extensively on the topic and got the whole family meditating on my words.
Even my nephews and niece's were somewhat quiet as though they understood my words. Maybe they did. I finally had peace of mind.

It's been quite some years since that episode and anytime I remember the occasion, I give thanks to Jesus who gave me the true meaning about his birth and has kept me and my family in his bosom.

It's 2016 and we are here again just a day to Christmas and I felt I should speak out once more about the birth of the One Man who changed the world in the true sense of the word.
Jesus is the reason for the season and all we do throughout this period and beyond should only bring glory to Jesus' name.
When we do this, we would truly experience Christ in his true form as the Lord of our lives and the only one who dishes out salvation for absolutely no price save his precious blood.
This period isn't all about eating, drinking and wearing new attire, rather it should be a period of caring and sharing with our neighbors. Christ has expressly stated who our neighbors are; all those who are in need and who we are privileged to render help to during this period and beyond.
Lend a helping hand during this period irrespective of the economic recession plaguing this nation.
It's a known fact that where there is someone to cry unto the lord, there is a God to respond.
You might just be the answer to someone's prayers this season. Don't relent in your goodwill to others cause by so doing, God has visited many a people and blessed their lives immeasurably.

Felicem Natalem Christi.

Da Jandy.