At the end, nothing really matters but our service to He that made us…At this point, no one is exactly safe, everyone is afraid, most people are indoors, many nation weeping, crying and looking up to God alone, not money, not tech-no-how, not power, not class, nothing matters anymore,…but God😥If God wishes (as man wishes to do evil to another) he will let this disease spread, with little or no control, and the whole world, within a month, is all gone….all is indeed vanity.
I was called for an interview with regards the postgraduate application I made last year. I had paid a non-refundable fee of a moderate amount and was awaiting a call for an interview as I had met the criteria for admission to the school of my choice; My IELTS result had been sent with other required documents. In fact, running around for those requirements to be met wasn’t a joke, coupled with my job. I could remember the days I had to fly to and fro Lagos, something I dreaded, as I have serious phobia for flight. I still took the risk though, and even many others.
The most touching part of this adventure (schooling in the US), was my face-to-face interview with the American embassy here in Nigeria. It was not funny. I had always thought myself to be a competent English speaker. I made a good score in the IELTS, I had conversed at length with both the British and the Americans. However, my experience with Miss Lyons that very day, made me feel I was behind.
On one occasion, I introduced myself with a British accent, after she did so. Feeling very much at home, I answered her interview questions. But one thing slapped me in the face; “I misinterpreted her question due to her strong American accent; in fact, she talked like she’s retroflexing every damn sound. Gosh! I got so lost that I kept asking her to repeat herself for up to three times; it wasn’t funny, so, please, don’t laugh.
I sincerely appeeciate the male folks. Many of those guys, though Americans, are more heard when they speak than their female counterparts.
Guess someone else have had similar experience!
It’s the last day of the month
It’s a Saturday
It shall give way
To the beginning
Of that month
To end, the first quarter
Of the year.
The weather is warm,
And the dry land cries for water
When shall we begin farming?
So that we can again, get busy?
The old soldier asks?
His youth is away faded
In the foreign land, he lives not again
Home called, and he answered
It is a clarion call.
Bent on tilling the earth, with eyes fixed on the dry land,
The days of his youth,
The days when he worked tirelessly
With the Whitemen, the great men of the season.
“The memory pierces my heart”, the old soldier groans
In my youth, I enjoyed life, so much that I planned not for the future,
That future is my present now,
Wife and children, I have not
To help me in this present I live in.
Had I planted my hard currencies in this land I find dry in this present,
Would I not have seen the sun smiling back at me?
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