Wisdom’s Trails

Where lieth the true essence of wisdom.

Does it just accompany the chronology of age

Simply because the years turn into decades of life.

Is it found through one existence defining experience

Or amid the multitude of challenges encountered during

The phases shaping the course of our fragile mortality.

 

Is it manifest in considered circumspection, probably

Applied in varying degrees to ensuing circumstance and events.

Is it the unique province of a few who then impart it wisely

As revered sages to the expectant seeking its solemn direction.

Or is it a derivative of the collective thoughts, then spoken, or woven

Into bound volumes of scholarly accounts for the edification of many.

 

Could it be, that it is encountered in the calm solitude of the walk

Through the parks and gardens of contemplation, or arises from

Deep within the routine of the communing with the supreme being.

Possibly, it may reveal itself in one of or a combination of these.

Yet, the one who finds wisdom should guard it utmost jealously

For in its midst, is contained the invaluable compass to navigate life.

 

Thus, irrespective of where its imprints are encountered,

When indeed in its time, it attends to your discernment

And commands by its very stature one’s rapt attention

Court it fully, and abide wholeheartedly by its doctrines.

With astuteness, hold firm to its priceless undeniable virtues

To guide your judgement, utterances and all undertakings.

That its essence, may steadfastly illuminate your course

With its sagacious attributes to your enduring benefit.

 

YemilBenjoy ©

 

 

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Will Anybody Come To Your Aid

Will you hear me when I call for help for anyone in need
Or will you elect to ignore the cries and ardent pleas.
Will you heed the sobbing or wailing in the night
Or in content, drown them in feigned oblivion or indifference.
Will you walk away when affliction confronts others
Convincing yourself, that someone else somewhere else
Will in your stead, seek to rescue the sorely oppressed
And downtrodden masses, trapped under evil’s albatross.
Will you close your eyes to all the aggravated suffering
That beckons loudly for necessary and sustained intervention,
Till no solace is offered to neither nations or hapless souls
And all civility is obliterated from the course of humanity, then
The unconscionable, thriving reigns wantonly and supreme
While decency itself is subjugated amid complete despair
Till you, then look around for urgent help for yourself, and
Find, all figment of lost hope, lying conquered and entombed
Within the ruins of decency, and none can no longer rise
To your rescue or dare stand to extend any measure of relief.

YemilBenjoy ©

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Reflect Nigeria – Tragic Fiction (3)

Although this is a fictional narrative, sadly it is to convey what an abducted girl in captivity may write:

Mr. President,

I return to writing under the threat of bodily harm but I must continue because I do not want you or the world to forget us in the dreadful alleys of time. Have you forgotten us? Or do you hope that with time we will simply fade deep into the recesses of the mind, conveniently never to be remembered. I will continue to write so that you never forget that we were abducted from our school in Chibok and now Dapchi, Nigeria.

The news we heard today was of calamitous proportions. A  12 year-old girl is pregnant. My heart stopped when I heard the news. It was a confounding situation, not for lack of understanding the process that led to this perplexing state of affairs, but completely destabilizing because of the protracted cruelty of evil. How could this be? I prayed that it would not be true. I prayed for myself and prayed for my sister that this would not be our fate. The thought was unbearable. How could childhood be violently interrupted with forced motherhood? How could innocence be violated with no consequences? All because we pursued the dream of advancement through education and our government failed to protect us from foreseeable acts of the malevolent. Alas, it failed to protect the hallowed ground of every child, our school.

Now the shores of hope remain distant, even the mirage of a gallant rescue that we used to cling to has dissipated into nothingness like the barren forest we are held captive in, barren of love, barren of parents, barren of childhood, barren of dreams and barren of life. What a tragedy. Frightening minutes have turned into awful days and into forsaken weeks. Have you even thought about us recently? Do you weep for us? If I were your daughter, would I still be here? Again, I ask have you spoken to our parents. We heard that a security risk may have prevented you from going to Chibok and now Dapchi. What an irony. Yet, we have been condemned by the government’s failure to rescue us to lives in tatters where there is no promise or protection.

Will my life be a continuum of threats, assaults, degradation and fear? Or will it be plagued constantly with the screaming of another captive beaten to death because she had the audacity to fight for her life. There is no refuge in this place. The days are filled with despair and the nights with dread and the silent weeping under the yoke of tyranny. Do we cry in vain? Hear our cries and save us.

I hate to but I must stop again.

Fictional story to be continued.

YemilBenjoy ©

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The Power of Mind

Others, may blindly, not see the priceless essence of your being.
Some may demean and often degrade you because they can.
Others may laugh at the way you speak or read,
Some may chuckle at the way you look or your garments,
And oppress you probably because of your gender,
While others stand by callously, or join in, and
Refuse to come to your rescue or assistance.
As hard as it is, even amid the reign of injustice
Hold your head high and retain your dignity.
Walk away, and if you can’t physically walk away
Even if it is for a moment, transport your mind
Beyond the ugly and focus on the beauty in you,
Which innately, resides in you just because you are you.
Remember always, that the measure of your self-worth
Lives uniquely and marvelously in you and nobody else.
Thus, do not, by your own actions or inaction
Fall prey to their evil machinations intent on
Defining you to your own detriment, no
Do not let them steal your last refuge of hope,
Which is the power of your precious mind, rather
Elevate your being within you and for you
Empower your mind because you must believe in you
And then soar… with the unrestrained power of your mind
Beyond the impediment of the oppression.

YemilBenjoy ©

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World – Ponder This

The fact that the gender that bears and brings forth humanity

Is often treated with unveiled disdain and repugnant brutality

Truly, is an irreconcilable absurdity of the human existence.

Save our girls!

 

YemilBenjoy ©

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Connected by Words

This post is specifically written to

Acknowledge everyone for all the likes and for following my blog.

Although, we may live in different places in this great universe

And each embark on our separate and unique life journey,

Thank you very much for taking the time

To read my posts and I hope we can remain

Connected by words…

 

Thank you and stay tuned.

 

YemilBenjoy©

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Diary of Enikan 2 – Visual Reality – A Grasshopper And Leaves?

 So today, while I was driving at dusk thinking about the day ahead and trying to talk to my maker, the master and creator of the universe. Suddenly, apparently out of nowhere, something darted across the road before me and that cast the dye for this written soliloquy. How wrong we are sometimes about what we believe we see. Although, we believe we know and sometimes are certain of what we think we see, in reality, probably we are not. How often erroneous assumptions pervade our consciousness and take root therein almost obliterating objectivity. Although, we hold steadfast onto particular conceptions, nonetheless it is not always a case of – it always is – therefore it is… In retrospect, how wrong I probably was, when I marveled then in unwavering certainty and jocular manner about the grasshopper that skipped across the road before the wheels of my car. I considered how extremely lucky it was, to make it across the street just in the nick of time, thankfully. I drove onward and wondered where it was coming from, where it was going. Its apparent and fleeting skipping reminded me with fond nostalgia of a song I used to sing when I was in primary school – Grasshoppers, three a fiddling went…  Singing to myself, I continued on my merry way. A short distance later, up the hill, I came upon a carpet of fallen leaves and a little gust of wind in accord with the day’s elements lifted two and caused them to skip across the road before me, almost in unison. Yes, not unexpectedly, because of the elements … but now bewilderment engulfed me. Which was playing games on me, my eyes or my mind. After prior firm belief that it was a grasshopper I had seen earlier, uncertainty now pervaded my consciousness. Hence, after observing the two leaves rise and land almost in alternating equidistant spaces across the road similar to my unforgotten grasshopper, certainty was since replaced by ambivalence, to such extent that I doubted the veracity and confidence of what I thought I had most assuredly seen a few minutes ago. Concerning the leaves, they were clear and distinct because as they crossed, the dusk was lifting, and the beam of my headlamps illuminated their forms. Consequently, without human doubt I knew, or did I deduce, that they were leaves. Was I sure about what they were because I believed undoubtedly that they were leaves, undoubtedly because I had seen them or was this somewhat a resultant deduction because I seen a carpet of fallen leaves before the two leaves in motion. Of the leaves can I now be absolutely certain. And of the first encounter  … was it a grasshopper or a leaf…

YemilBenjoy ©

 

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Reflect Nigeria – The Right To Live …

Is an inalienable right of every human being.

Not simply because it is reinforced in documents

Or exalted by the pedestal of conscience and morality.

No, the right exists for all humanity, every one.

Even if it is not committed to writing.

dress pic

And contained within the essence of that right,

Is indeed the right to pursue one’s dreams

To the magnitude of their possibilities

Irrespective of one’s gender, and this right

Extends to all, including all young girls

Innocently pursing their dreams amid

The seemingly innocent halls of their school.

Save our girls.

YemilBenjoy ©

Thus, all girls like the rest of humanity

Are entitled to live their lives

And to pursue their own dreams

Without

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Reflect Nigeria – Tragic Fiction (2) Chibok And Now Dapchi Girls

Although this is a fictional narrative, sadly it is to convey what an abducted girl in captivity may write:

Mr. President,

I had to abruptly stop writing the other day because I heard one of the captors coming and if they had found me writing they would have beaten me mercilessly to the point of death like my best friend. I miss her, my sister and everyone I love. I try to remember their faces so that I never forget them. I can only write this letter because I had a notebook and pen with me when we were abducted. We take turn hiding the items so that they are not found.

This letter gives us a dim flicker of hope that you will send troops to rescue us from this quagmire. It seems that we will never be rescued. The captors laugh at us. They laugh at our nakedness, tell us we are worthless and will be sold as sex slaves. It is just so awful to hear and contemplate. They tell us that our government does not care about us and will not rescue us, and that even if the government tried, they will not be able to rescue us. Is this true? For if it is, that is nothing but damnation for us. For we are damned by the acts of the foreseeable abduction, that was not prevented, and the failure to rescue us, to a  wretched existence of shame, torture, ridicule, bondage and repeated violation. If you will not or cannot rescue us, have you asked other countries that can rescue us to save us from this cursed forest.

Words cannot adequately describe the depth of my despair nor convey the feeling of helplessness at being violently uprooted from the foundation of my life. It is a state of complete desperation. I am deathly afraid. I have not seen my mother’s smile nor heard my father’s voice in weeks, let alone the streets of my community or the sunset over my home. Why? I know that my grandmother wears her black garment of lamentation to mourn for me. Yet I am not dead. Alas, the pathetic irony is that I may be alive, yet I am not living. How could this happen to me, all because I am girl who went to school in Chibok. I miss my life.

It is another forsaken day in captivity. It is raining again and there is minimal shelter. We sit huddled together and dare not express our real feelings or we will feel the cold ends of the guns against our heads. We wait silently for the sun to come out to dry our skin and our clothes. I no longer like the sound of rain. I tried to cry but no tears came. I tried to console another girl who does not speak any more but no words came forth, so I hold her hand and it is very cold. When will this suffering end? Will it ever end?

I wonder, is it right that some men because they have power over vulnerable school girls, can change the course of our lives, sending us to premature deaths and selling us into slavery. Why are we the scapegoats and sacrificial lambs at the altar of anarchy and depravity? They boast. They say that they are more powerful than ever. They plan more bombings and kidnappings.

I must stop again. Save us please.

Fictional story to be continued – Chibox and now Dapchi Girls

 

YemilBenjoy ©

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Reflect Nigeria – Tragic Fiction (1) Chibok And Now Dapchi Girls

Although this is a fictional narrative, sadly it is to convey what an abducted girl in captivity may write:

Mr. President,

Do you know that my sister and I were among some of the girls kidnapped from our beds at our school in Chibok and now Dapchi, Nigeria? I now live in a constant state of terror, not knowing what will happen to me next. I am completely devastated that my life as I knew it is over and live in horror that I may never see my family again. I detest what my life has become. I am helpless and unable to protect myself or my fellow captives. My younger sister was also taken that ill-fated day and I have not seen her since then. As her older sister, I shudder to think that she is also going through what I am suffering. I weep for her. I weep for myself. I weep for all the captives. I weep for my parents and over the abhorrent situation that we have been thrust into. I am worried about my parents. Have you spoken to them?

My best friend was killed on the first day of our abduction. They caught her as she was trying to run back to freedom. She died from the beating. I still hear her screaming. Since she died, I have been very scared to run away because I don’t want to die trying to escape but I don’t want to live as a slave. Which is the viable abyss? The two options are hell on earth.

I once had a dream to become a doctor so that I could help my community deal with diseases and take care of the sick. Did I dream in vain because I am Nigerian girl living in Chibok? Will that dream ever be revived? In captivity, we know no peace. We have no privacy, little to eat or drink. We no longer sleep in beds. There are no bathrooms, we have no soap and are no longer able to bath daily. Guns are pointed at our faces and at our heads. We are constantly threatened with death and bodily harm. We have forgotten the sound of laughter and they make us do the most unspeakable things. Please save us from this insanity.

At school, in one of my classes we read the Oath of Office of the Nigerian President. I recall that it includes the following:

“ I do solemnly swear and affirm … that in all circumstances, I will do right to all manner of people, according to law, without fear or favour, … and that I will devote myself to the service and well-being of the people of Nigeria. So help me God”.

If that is the case, why am I here? Why have we not been rescued after several weeks? Why was my school not protected? Why have we been raped? Why are we being sold like valueless commodities on the ignominious market square of slave trade. Will we ever be rescued? We are powerless and exist at the mercy of our captors and slave masters and need to be rescued. Please do not forget us.

I must stop now because I hear someone coming…

 

Fictional story to be continued.

 

YemilBenjoy ©

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