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Thursday, October 10, 2019

Again Gunmen Storms Kaduna Technical College

Recall, Just last week the story of six abducted students of Kakau Daji village in Chikun local government area of the state broke the internet.

 Now again reports has it that Principal of the Government Technical Secondary School has been abducted by gunmen. The suspected kidnapers allegedly stormed the school located at Maraban Kajuru community in Kajuru local government area of Kaduna by 12 midnight today (10th October 2019) at about 9:35am and began to shoot sporadically into the air as students and teachers took to their heels in search of safety.
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Final Year Student AAU Poisoned to Death

Okoduwa Eddyson a final year student of Ambrose Ali University Epkoma, edo state,was allegedly poisoned to death. 
His death came barely two weeks to the end of his degree program. According to his friends, he was poisoned and he gave up the ghost before help could come. See more photos and reactions from his friends below;
I see "death" as an essential condition of living. I intend to always ask a fundamental question because of "death", what's the essence of living when "death" is sure for everyone someday ?, don't tell me anything about purpose or potential, don't tell me God knows, don't tell me about good legacies because "death" will bring all you could ever think and imagine to nothing. It grievs me to marrow that just weeks to graduation this very guy of mine is late today, he was poisoned as i was told. RIP Eddyson.

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Functions Of Nigeria Prison Service

 declaration of Lagos city as a colony in 1861 marked the start of the establishment of formal machinery of governance. At this stage the preoccupation of the colonial government was to guard legitimate trade, guarantee the profit of British merchants additionally as guarantee the activities of the missionaries.

In this view finish, by 1861, the acting governor of the city colony and whom was then a outstanding British bourgeois in lagos, shaped a personnel of regarding 25 constables. This was followed in 1863 by the institution in lagos of 4 courts: a court to resolve petty disputes, a judicature to undertake the more serious cases, a slave court to oversee cases arising from the efforts to get rid of the exchange slaves and a poster court to resolve disputes among merchants and traders.

One major vision of the Prison Service is to promote public protection by providing assistance and due support for offenders in their reformation and rehabilitation under a safe, secure and humane conditions in line with universally accepted standard and to facilitate their social reintegration into society.

Functions Of The Nigeria Prison Service
Here below we have listed some of the major functions of the Paramilitary Commission In Nigeria.

i.They have the mandate to take into lawful custody all those certified to be so kept by courts of competent jurisdiction;
ii. Produce suspects in courts as and when due;
iii. They Identify the causes of their anti-social dispositions;
iv. Set in motion mechanisms for their treatment and training for eventual reintegration into society as normal law abiding citizens on discharge; and
v. Administer Prisons Farms and Industries for this purpose and in the process generate revenue for the government.

The Nigeria Prison Service brought about the origin of contemporary Prisons Service in Nigeria in 1861. That was the year conceptually, Western-type jail was established in Nigeria.

The declaration of Lagos city as a colony in 1861 marked the start of the establishment of formal machinery of governance. At this stage the preoccupation of the colonial government was to guard legitimate trade, guarantee the profit of British merchants additionally as guarantee the activities of the missionaries.
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Women Of Owu by Femi Osofisan

In 1821 or thereabouts, the combined forces of the armies of Ijebu and Ife, two yoruba kingdoms in the south of what is now known as Nigeria, along with mercenaries recruited from Oyo refugees fleeing downward from the Nigerian Savannah land, sacked the city of Owu after a seven-year siege.
Owu was a model city-states, one of the most prosperous and beat organized of those times. The Allied forces had attacked it with the pretext of liberating the flouring market of Apomu from Owu control. Owu closed the gates of its formidable city walls, but soon it had to face the problem of drought when the rains stopped in the third year of the siege.
 Owu was a model city-state, one of the most prosperous and best organized of those times. The Allied Forces had attacked it with the pretext of liberating the flourishing market of Apomu from Owu's control. Owu closed the gates of it formidable City walls, but it soon had to face the problem of drought when the rains stopped in the third year of the siege. This was a boon to the Allied Forces of the city, and it was all over.
These Allied Forces, determined that the city must never rise again, reduced the place to complete rubble, and set fire to it. They slaughtered all the males, adult and children, and carried away the females into slavery. Owu was never rebuilt.
So it was quite logical therefore that, as I pondered over this adaptation of Euripides' play, in the season of Iraqi war, the memories that were awakened in me should be those of the tragic Owu War...           F.O

Women of Owu by Femi Osofisan

SITUATION: It is the day after the sack of the town of Owu Ipole by the Allied Forces of Ijebu, Oyo, and Ife. 
The night before, the King, Oba Akinjobi, had fled from the town, with some of his high Chiefs and soldiers, leaving his family behind. The Allied Forces slaughter all the men left in the town, including the male children; and only female children and women have been spared, and made captives. 
The scene is an open space close to the city's main gate, which used to serve as a market but has now been demolished. Visible in the background is the city itself, in ruins, and smoldering. Along the broken wall are the temporary tents of the old market, built of wooden and bamboo stakes, and straw roofs, in which the women are being kept. 
The chorus of women, still invisible in the dark, is singing the dirge, Atupa gbepo nle fel epo*. 
The god ANLUGBUA appears as an old man to two of the women sent to fetch water.


ANLUGBUA: Tell me, dear women you seem to come from there – what's the name of the city I see Smoldering over there?

WOMAN: Stranger, you don't know? Look at My tears! That was once The proud city of Owu, reduced to ruin Yesterday.

ANLUGBUA: Ah! Just as I feared!

WOMAN: Those soldiers you see revelling In the camp over there (Points) Dancing and drinking to their victory and may Anlugbua choke them with it! They were the ones who came yesterday and scattered our lives into potsherds.

ANLUGBUA: Yesterday!

WOMAN: Yesterday, old man! For seven years we had held them off, these invaders from ijebu and Ife, together with Mercenaries from Oyo fleeing south from the Fulani forces. They said our oba was a despot, that they came to free us from his cruel yoke! So for seven years they called outside our walls, but were unable to enter until yesterday, when a terrible fire engulfed the city and forced us to open the gate. That was how they finally gained entry and swooped on us...

ANLUGBUA: I don't understand, you said all this happened yesterday?

WOMAN: Yes, and I'd advise you to hurry away as fast as you can, Old man, for if they catch you your life won't be worth a beetle. They are not sparing the life of any male that falls into their hands, whether old or young. Yesterday on the orders of their leader, Okunade, the Maye, and before our very eyes here, they rounded up all our husbands and brothers and sons, and slau_ (stops, choked by emotion)

WOMAN: They slaughtered them! All!


WOMAN: Not one was spared! Not single male left now in Owu, except those who escaped the night before with our King, Oba Akinjobi.

WOMAN: And shame, oh shame! Our women were seized and shared out to the blood-splattered troops to spend the night. Only some of us— we two and the women you see over there were spared, those of us from the noble houses and others whose beauty struck their eyes, we are being reserved, they say, for the Generals.

ANLUGBUA: But your priests! Your Chiefs! Your diviners! Why didn't anybody call me?

WOMAN: Call you?

ANLUGBUA: My words were enough, I thought! Whenever any grave danger threatens the town, I said! Whenever some misfortune arrives too huge for you to handle, run to my hill and pull my chain! How was it that no one remembered?

WOMAN: You... You... Who are you?

ANLUGBUA: Three times, I said call my name three times, and I shall be back, sword in hand, to defend you!

WOMAN: Sword! That would have served little purpose this time, I tell you! Because—eh! Yeh!...Yeh! What did you say? You.... You... Mo gbe!... Is it you...? Have I stumbled upon... Impossible! My eyes have not seen a... No! Impossible!

ANLUGBUA: Calm yourself, my dear women. You have nothing to fear!

WOMAN:  It's not you, is it? Let me not Go blind today! It's not, Orisa Anlugbua? Not our ancestor they talk so much about?

ANLUGBUA: I said––

WOMAN: But — (Screams) So it's true, ehn? Help! Help! The god is here! Anlugbua is here! Come and see!

ANLUGBUA: (Hard) Sh! Quiet, I said! Calm yourself, I don't want to be announced! Not yet! You hear!

WOMEN: (Cowed) Yes...Yes...

ANLUGBUA: So go on, tell me all that happened here.

WOMEN: (Whimpering with fright) Ah...ah..

ANLUGBUA: (Softening) Listen, this city was very dear to me. I was there when your grand parents built up this little old village of my father into a fortress, and called it Owu. I Anlugbua, Great grandson of Oduduwa, progenitor of the Yoruba race. Together with my great uncles Obatala the god of creativity, Orunmila the god of wisdom and Ogun the god of Metallic ore, We came down from our house in heaven and lent our silent energies to the Labour of the workmen. Unseen, of course. Then Esu bore our wishes up to Edumare, the Almighty Father, and slowly the bricks and the stones and the clay grew into a city enclosed with two walls and a moat around it like a girdle: Owu, the safest place in the entire Yorubaland. But now I return to see–the unimaginable! A city reduced to rubble. How did this happen?

WOMAN: Ancestral father, the armies of Ijebu, Oyo and Ife, who call themselves the Allied forces, under the command of that demon Maye Okunade, caused havoc.

ANLUGBUA: Okunade? Not that man I knew? Gbenagbena Okunade, the one endowed by Obatala with the gift of creativity, to shape wood and stone into new forms? The fabled artist who also dreamed those arresting patterns on virgin cloth?

WOMAN: The very one! But when his favorite wife, Iyunloye, was captured and brought here, and given as Wife to one of our princes, Okunade became bitter, and swore to get her back. Shamed and disgraced, He abandoned his tools and took to arms. And so fierce was his passion for killing, that he rose rapidly through the ranks, and soon became the Maye an artist? He's a butcher now!

ANLUGBUA: How sad! How really sad!

WOMAN: That's the latest sign of his new calling now, that ruin you are looking at anlugbua! All your shrines drenched in blood of your worshippers, all your sacred symbols wiped out by fire! Right up to the Grove of your mother, Lawumi, whom we have always venerated, Anlugbua, Maye and his men pursued their victims, and Cut off their heads. Then they stuck them on stakes which they carried in triumphant dance off their camp, over there.

ANLUGBUA: Even my mother's shrine!

WOMAN: All night long and all of today the invaders have been looting our city, turning it into a wreck, violating our sacred shrines and groves. Now, they are back in their camp, each of these pirates to sort out the plunder, and allot our city's riches to their soldiers and servants.

WOMAN: Meanwhile they make us wait here in abject terror, Expecting the worst, and unable even to mourn our sons and husbands.

ANLUGBUA: No more: I understand. It is the law of victory, the law of defeat...

WOMAN: Maye besieged our city for seven full years, Because of a woman, and would not go away! For seven full years, the people of Owu suffered and refused to open the city gates.

WOMAN: Seven years without rain they were, seven years of failed harvests. All those terrible years where were you Anlugbua?

ANLUGBUA: You did not send for me! You know the oath I made forbade me to return Here, unless you sent for me!

WOMAN: After those three years, the city began to starve of food and fruit, and the streets stank of diseases and death. But we never ceased to worship you, or pour libration at your shrine! Where were you, Anlugbua?

ANLUGBUA: When I was leaving the world– when I dipped my sword into the earth and became a mountain — I left an iron chain for you, and said, pull it whenever you need me –

WOMAN: How we needed you all the time! It was a war, such as we had never known before: The Allied Forces came with weapons they call guns Guns, Anlugbua! Deadly sticks which explode, and turn a whole battalion into corpse. Rags upon rags of bleeding flesh!

WOMAN: Among us not one man had ever seen  weapon like that! But the Ijebu troops brought them in abundance! They got them, we learnt, from their trade with the white men on the coast!

WOMAN: Against these terrifying guns, Anlugbua, Your people had only their blades and incantations. Where were you?

ANLUGBUA: Well it's all over now. The Allies have got what they wanted. I've come too late.

WOMAN: Too late to help us. But not too late to witness our final rout.

WOMAN: Not too late to relish this massacre they call war.

WOMAN: Nowadays, when the strong fight the weak, it's called a Libration War to free the weak from oppression.

WOMAN: Nowadays, in the new world order, it is suicide to be weak.

ANLUGBUA: It's very sad, my dear women! But still, with all your tears, I, Anlugbua, I am the real loser here. Gods do not cry. But that only makes the pain deeper still.

WOMAN: So what do you want? What have you come back for? So that we may pity you, we ourselves aches for consolation?

ANLUGBUA: I ask you– without a shrine, without worshippers, What is a god? Who now will venerate us? Who sing our praises among these ruins?

WOMAN: Go back to your heaven, Anlugbua, and learn also how to cope with pain. If only you gods would show a little more concern for your worshippers!

WOMAN: Goodbye, ancestor, we cannot help you. We must return now to our burden, and join the other women to prepare for our life of slavery. (They go).

ANLUGBUA: I confess, I am broken. Farewell, my lost city. Farewell, my dear women, whose arguments shame me. But I promise this will not be the final word in the dirge.
(He goes. Dirge rises. Lights expand now, and pick up ERELU AFIN, where she sprawls on the ground.)


Erelu: Ah, am I the one sprawled on the ground like this, in the dust, like a common mongrel! Me! But what's the use getting up? To go where, or to achieve what purpose? Of course I am sorry for myself, but so what? When fate has decided to strike you down what amount of crying can help? That's what I keep telling myself. I say-- Resign yourself, Erelu Afin, and accept it all with forbearance! But Nature is weak: my tears pour out nevertheless! (She cries, as she sits up).

CHORUS LEADER: Oh, we shed our own tears too, Erelu Afin! Can one ever be strong enough against misfortune? In spite of our courage, disaster drains us!

ERELU: Who will look at me now, and remember I was once a queen here, in this broken city, or that in that palace over there, now burning to ashes I gave my husband five splendid sons?

WOMAN: We remember, Erelu, just as we also recollect that one by one, yesterday, Before our very eyes, the invaders cut their throat, all those handsome princes.

ALL: Yesterday.

ERELU: And my daughters, dear women! These same eyes saw my daughters seized by their hairs, their cloths ripped off their bodies by brutal men, their innocence shredded forever in an orgy of senseless rapine.

WOMAN: Erelu, we still hear their screams tearing through the air, tearing our hearts.

ERELU: My daughters--remember, they were all engaged already to be married to kings! Already, Remember, the palace was bustling with their bridal songs, Chants of dancers and drummers Rehearsing for the day.

WOMAN: We remember the songs too well, Erelu, and the dances: we composed most of them!

ERELU: Now those laughing girls are going into the kitchen of uncultured louts! And your songseach word a blade of mockery now--Sink quietly down our throat! Ah, I am talking too much! Forgive me, I beg you, it's because of my eyes: they have grown weary with crying, and frozen against my wishes. Talk is the only weapon I have left for mourning.

CHORUS LEADER: We know, Erelu. Go on talking. Be strong.

ERELU: Oh I wish I could die, die! Or fall silent in a hole where sorrow can no longer reach me! Who will save Erelu Afin? Who can save me now?

WOMAN: Yes, who will save us? (Erelu falls to the ground and the dirge Desi ma gbàwà ò' rises. She joins in the singing for a while)

ERELU: Oh you Ijebu beasts! And the animals from Ife who are our allies! You Oyo mercenaries who have been made homeless by the Fulani, and so must make others homeless too! All of you men over there preparing to return home after destroying our city! My curse upon you! May you never again know the soil of your mother lands!

WOMAN: Tuah! I spit and the wind dries it! May each of you be sucked and withered by the wind of affliction on your journey back!

CHORUS LEADER: Liars! You came, you said, to help free our people from a wicked king. Now, after your liberation, here we are with our spirits broken and our faces swollen. Waiting to be turned into whores and housemaids in your towns. I too, I curse you!

ERELU: Savages! You claim to be more civilized than us but did you have to carry out all this killings and carnage to show you are stronger than us? Did you have to plunge all these women here into mourning just to seize control over our famous Apomu market known all over for its uncommon merchandise?

WOMAN: No Erelu, what are you saying, or are you forgetting? They do not want our market at all--

WOMAN: They are not interested in such petty things as profit--

WOMAN: Only in lofty, lofty ideas, like freedom--

WOMAN: Or human rights--

WOMAN: Oh the Ijebus have always disdained merchandise--

WOMAN: The Ifes are unmoved by the glitter of gold--

WOMAN: The Oyos have no concern whatsoever for silk or ivory--

WOMAN: All they care for, my dear women all they care for, all of them, is our freedom!

WOMAN: Ah Anlugbua bless their kind hearts!

WOMAN: Bless the kindness which has rescued us from tyranny in order to plunge us into slavery!

WOMAN: Sing, my friends! Let us celebrate our new-won freedom of chains! (They resume their dirge, till Erelu's sudden wail of anguish cuts them off abruptly)

CHORUS LEADER: Your cries of anguish, Erelu Afin, are like the talons of a hawk clawing at our breasts they pierced our ears with terror. But we have been defeated, what is it you advise us to do?

ERELU: Look at the camp in the distance where the soldiers are preparing to depart.

WOMAN: Yes, we can see them, loading their horses--

WOMAN: Pulling down their tents--

WOMAN: Pulling out the smoldering logs, extinguishing fires--

WOMAN: Tying up their bags--

WOMAN: Filling up their giants casks of water--

ERELU: They are preparing for their journey back home

CHORUS LEADER: Yes of course, they are leaving. What do you suggest we do? (Erelu wails again)

WOMAN: What can we do? Soon we know all of us will be shared out some to became concubines to the officers

WOMAN: Some to be domestic servants,

WOMAN: Some to be sold off to the slave caravans going north to the Arab

WOMAN: Or South to the ships of the white men. (as Erelu wails, enter the two women we saw earlier)

WOMAN: We have seen him! We have seen him!


WOMEN: We have seen the ancestor, Anlugbua!

WOMEN: What! (shouts of surprise, shock, disbelief etc)

WOMEN: Just now over there! It's true!

WOMEN: Both of us we saw him! Spoke to him!

WOMEN: Ope o, Anlugbua! Salvation's arrived at last!

CHORUS LEADER: Come out there, you women of Owu Ipole. All you who have lost your husbands and your innocence Come out and--!

WOMEN: No listen--

CHORUS LEADER: Cast off your despair, I say and with a song of defiance dare to look at the burning wreck and salute our fallen men!

WOMEN: No! No!

WOMEN: No what?

WOMEN: We saw him, but... It's not salvation yet!

WOMEN: No? What do you mean?

WOMEN: Anlugbua came, but he has returned to heaven. We are on our own!

WOMEN: Liar! Impossible!

WOMEN: It's true!

WOMEN: Yeah! Ye-pah! He's gone?

WOMEN: He told us himself of his helplessness!

WOMEN: He cannot abandon us like that, not him! Not our ancestral father!

WOMEN: He has. He left in defeat. We are on our own. (General wailing)

CHORUS LEADER: No stop the wailing and brace yourselves my dear women. The lesson is clear. It's us not the gods, who create war. It's us, we human beings, who can kill it.

WOMEN: How? What can we do? What power of suasion do we have over these bloodthirsty men?

ERELU: Ah, raise your dirges again without trembling, even if for the last time, women! It's much better than our needless questions: start the song: for those who survive, there's always another day (They begin the dirge, Lesi gbo gbigbi lereko o?)

CHORUS LEADER: (To others off-stage)
You wretches in there, cowering in despair like all of us, come out I said, and see for yourselves! While our conquerors prepare the first phase of our enslavement, our brave gods run to hide in their heaven! Come out now, and join us all of you!

WOMEN: No, my dear women, I beg you not all. At least my poor Orisaye continue to remain inside. Out of sight for now. These events as you know have made her even delirious than she was, and her state of incoherence would only worsen to see her mother like this.

WOMEN: But what will they really do with us, Erelu? Please, say something! My imagination is killing me!

ERELU: In defeat, dear women, always expect the worst. That is the law of combat. The law of defeat. (To herself)
Look at me! A slave! To whom will they sell me? To the flesh merchants of Kano or Abomey? Or straight to the white masters in the cold castles of Cape Coast? Will they put padlocks on these wrinkled lips, and chains on these old and withered feet? Ah, they will brand me with their hot iron, me! I am going to be maid to some foreign matron: I will watch night and day over her brats, or Slog away in her kitchen, picking vegetables, my body covered in sores! Me, the Erelu of Owu!

CHORUS LEADER: Erelu, worse trials are still ahead. Help us. Preserve your strength so we too can preserve ours.

WOMEN: Worse trials than these? Is that possible?

WOMEN: It will be hell for me, I know, away from these familiar streets.

WOMEN: And me! Even if these hands can weave again, Anlugbua. It will never be here in the joyous looms of Owu?

WOMEN: Ah just think of having to clean their toilets!

WOMEN: Perhaps I will be lucky enough to be carried away to the Ijebu Kingdom. There I'm told, life is always pleasant, even for slaves. And being close to Lagos makes jewels cheap.


WOMEN: Anywhere at all will be better for slaves than the forest lands of Ife...

CHORUS LEADER: No, my friend, you don't understand! Nowhere will it ever be pleasant to be a slave! All we can is counter misfortune with our spirit and our will. So, let is dance my friends as we wait, as Our mothers taught us to do at such moments. Dance the Dance of the Days of Woe! (They resume the dirge and dance, slowly, as lights fade out on the scene into a Blackout.)
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