RE: Letter from the Prime Minister

Well, well... it's been a whole 9 days since my last blog, I sincerely apologize.  I've been pretty caught up with reading books on politics and social change and rounding up an essay on the collapse of apartheid in South Africa.  When I started the essay, I wasn't to sure if I could really write 4,000 words of logic and sense but after research and reading and several toilet and water breaks in-between I finally ended up with an essay I'm very confident in.
Well let's move on from the essays, yesterday I came home from a pretty long and interesting day to open my mailbox and I received a letter from Mr. Gordon Brown, that's right, the Prime Minister and Leader of the Labour Party as he so eloquently put it in the letter.  Writing about it, it kinda reminds me of times at home in Holland when the fax machine pours out several letters claiming they are from the President of Nigeria, difference is though, the fax letters were scams from 419ers telling us about several unthinkable millions of dollars that needs a bank account to be stored in.  It makes you wonder, are there really people out there that receive such letters or emails and actually fall for the unbelievable claims they make?  Cuz even the lottery just doesn't work that way, but I guess the saying 'money is the root of all evil' is so very true for people to be so greedy.
Well let's get back to the Prime Ministers letter, he opens like this 'Dear William Obubo, Since I last wrote to you...' Let's get the facts straight here Mr. PM, you've never written to me so please don't flatter me by sounding all friendly and familiar but I do commend the personal touch nevertheless.  He goes on to talk about how 'we' are going tough financial times; we? really you and I? Mr. PM, I'm sure you've never checked up on my Tesco shopping or offered to cover my Sky bill or T-mobile bill or even given me £2 to take a bus to the School of Management, so no, I disagree, we haven't been going through tough times together, I have, you haven't.  The truth of the matter is, you have seen several people like me go through tough times, there are even people worse off than myself and they have been immensely affected, so I'm sorry but I'd say the 'we' thing is grossly patronising and might be offensive to some people.
I'd be straight up with you Mr. PM, the attempt to win people over now with just about a week before the elections could not have been more dented by the 'bigotgate' as the media have so kindly named.  The question and answer sessions have done a lot to prove that there is a huge void between the electorate and the politicians, especially the leaders.  The only time they (the politicians) run to us really, is when they need our support or our votes. Once we are done voting, we are dumped on the streets like left over fish'n'chips... If a democracy is a government of the people, by the people, for the people then I'm sorry to say Mr. PM we aren't in a democracy.  The best leaders are the best servants, and simply put the country is lacking any.
So here is my reply Mr. PM;

Dear Gordon Brown,

Thank you for your last letter, it was very kind of you to write.  The events of the week ahead will help me decide how I'd vote.

Yours sincerely

William P. Obubo
Student and Member of the Electorate

Adieu!!!

PS: I'd scan the letter and post it soon....

Watching The Wear

Watching the Wear

The sun’s shining bright
its sparkling reflections upon the river Wear,
makes glaring upon the water a rare sight.

For some strange reason
I’m wearing a jacket,

I know that it is sweltering hot, though.

My right leg is crossed over my left giving-
a slight muscle pull and a sharp tingle in my toes.

I just watched little boys and girls,
kindergarten ages, in baby blue polos-
and ashy grey skirts, trousers and pinafores,
run past me along with their teachers.

Two fishermen, one on either side of the river.

They wait patiently for their catch,
I’m waiting patiently for Julian and my dad.

I’ve only been in Sunderland for 2 hours,
but my ears have tuned into its ambient sounds,
the roaring rustic metro, the buzz of the double-deck buses,
the clanks of modern construction, the Northern English accents and-
the low deep flowing tone of the river Wear.

I am anxiously waiting to see my own town of Bradford.

Adieu!

To Want To

Hey...

A rather dull day I've been through, aside  from the the University of Bradford Students Union Election hustings and American football practise (of course!).

The hustings is an opportunity for candidates to convince the voters why they are the right and suitable candidate for the job (a lot like the candidates debate of last week where Clegg stole the show).  The funny thing is back in March we had the original hustings, however, due to some 'undisclosed' incidents the elections were temporarily suspended, then cancelled, then postponed.  Politics seems to be a dirty game at whatever level.

Well the UBU elections committee have introduced tighter measures to curb any discrepancies so hopefully we'd have a smooth affair.  However, from my opinion, the voters seem to have remembered the details of the manifestos so the turnout was nowhere near the original hustings, besides can you blame them, dissertation deadlines, coursework deadlines are only round the corner.  For a couple new faces it was a slightly nervous experience.

One candidate, yours truly, is running for International Students Officer, who is pretty much the mediator of over 20 nationalities and the Union and University.  As straightforward as it gets... NOT! But we shall see when the results are released.  I do wish all the candidates the best of luck may the right person win.  I extend this same reasoning to the May Elections... Nick Clegg seems to have created quite a force now as the polls are suggesting while dear Gordon says it is a 'brief political honeymoon' sounds like sour grapes to me.  

I really wish people vote for the right reasons.  But hey this is politics nothing, I repeat, nothing is black and white... or grey for that matter.

I do urge you to register in time to be able to vote in the May Elections, and for the Bradfordians go to www.ubuonline.co.uk/elections   VOTE RIGHT!!!

Well I seem to be a little sore in my arm muscles from stretching and my left knee needs a lil' TLC so this post will be coming to its finish line, but like promised about a week ago the daily poem is titled 'To Want To' enjoy!

To Want To

I was told not to

But I wanted to

So much that I thought to

Then I decided not to

But in my head I asked “don’t I want to”

I want to- knowing I’m not supposed to

At night I sleep eyes wide open wanting to

Then I stand believing that I had to

Later in the dark I crept to

Halfway there I decided I didn’t have to

For if I had to

I need not worry how to or when to

So I turned back not having had to

I admitted I didn’t need to

Meaning I heeded not to

I was told not to

But I wanted to

Yet in the end I didn’t need to. 

Adieu!!!

Lost teeth and still searching for meaning...

I generally have trouble remembering all the events and details of my dreams.  I woke up today, knowing I had dreamt about something but the details were slightly fuzzy.  I walked up to my bathroom mirror and in looking at my reflection my dream's details came back to me.... a little scrambled but I knew that I had a bizarre dream of losing all my teeth.  They were falling out of my gums and I picked them out of my mouth.  It is not the first time I have had this dream and I would really like to know the meaning of the dream and the symbolism of losing teeth.
I have looked up on the internet the interpretations of the dream and to my surprise it is a very common dream.  
For a common dream its interpretations are quite hard to find, most websites make general statements and seem copy each other... However, I did find some little bits and bobs of meaning in the meaning of the dream.
From http://www.dreammoods.com/cgibin/teethdreams.pl?method=exact&header=dreamid&search=teethintro I got this interpetation:


"Dreams of falling teeth are the most common dreams that Dream Moods receives. The typical dream scenarios include having your teeth crumble in your hands, fall out one by one with just a light tap, grow crooked or rot. Such dreams are not only horrifying and shocking, but they often leave you with a lasting image of the dream. So what does it mean?

One theory is that dreams about your teeth reflect your anxieties about your appearance and how others perceive you. Sadly, we live in a world where appearance and attractiveness matter and your teeth help to convey that image. Teeth play an important role in the game of flirtation, whether it be flashing those pearly white, kissing or necking. Thus, such dreams may stem from a fear of rejection, sexual impotence or the consequences of getting old. Additionally, a dream research found that women in menopause have frequent dreams about teeth. This further points to teeth dreams as being related to getting older and/or feeling unattractive and less feminine. Teeth are an important feature to your attractiveness and how you are presented to others. Caring about how you look is natural and healthy.

Another rationalization for these falling teeth dreams may be rooted in your fear of being embarrassed or making a fool of yourself in some situation. These dreams are an over-exaggeration of your worries and anxieties. Perhaps the dream may be a result of you being unprepared for the task at hand.

Teeth are used to bite, tear, chew and gnaw. In this regard, teeth represent power. And the loss of teeth in your dream may be from a sense of powerlessness. Are you lacking power in some current situation? Perhaps you are having difficulties expressing yourself or getting your point across. You feel frustrated when your voice is not being heard. You may be experiencing feelings of inferiority and a lack of self-confidence in some situation or relationship in your life. This dream may be an indication that you need to be more assertive and believe in the value of your own opinion.

Traditionally, it was thought that dreaming that you did not have teeth, represent malnutrition which may be applicable to some dreamers.

Other Perspectives

A scriptural interpretation for bad or falling teeth indicate that you are putting your faith, trust, and beliefs in what man thinks rather than in the word of God. The bible says that God speaks once, yea twice in a dream or a vision in order to hide pride from us, to keep us back from the pit, to open our ears (spiritually) and to instruct and correct us.

In the Greek culture, when you dream about loose, rotten, or missing teeth, it indicates that a family member or close friend is very sick or even near death.

According to the Chinese, there is a saying that your teeth will fall out if you are telling lies.

It has also been said that if you dream of your teeth falling out, then it symbolizes money. This is based on the old tooth fairy story. If you lose a tooth and leave it under the pillow, a tooth fairy would bring you money."

Well, my poem for today is titled  SHE

She

From the day she came into my world,

She had my name inscribed upon her,

It took was just minutes to warm up to each other.

And from that moment on I got to like her

While she had almost no other option but to like me.

Her favourite colours are silver and black,

With her big black coat I’d carry her upon me so carefully,

My darling, I love her, she knows the true me.

Like no other, my deepest secrets I store in her.

My different moods she has harboured ever so well

And just like no other she has shown me things I have never seen before

She has been my gateway to the outside world.

So wise she has had the answers to a lot of my questions-

Regardless of how stupid or insignificant they may be.

She has become my whole world; I get jealous and cautious-

When she is touched by others, I’d defend her if she were ever abused.

Of late she hasn’t quite been herself and I hope it’s not the end

I know life will have to go on if she leaves me, but I cannot imagine me without her.

Have a blessed Sunday, Adieu!

'20 burgers! how can 20 burgers be gone so quickly?'

Another day, another poem...but first...

 My activities today have been very very physical, I had some American Football practise, which was a lot of fun especially as I scored the last touchdown in pass-ball... It really felt good  even though the end-zone happened to be the 6-yard box on an astro-turf football (soccer) field, nevertheless I did my end-zone dance... With the sun shining brightly down on my beloved Bradford city, I couldn't have wished for a better day, uhmm... maybe I could but you know what I mean. The Red Devils once again showed their Blue brothers who is top-dog in the city of Manchester with a vintage performance from a football genius, Paul Scholes; and if that wasn't enough to make my day, in-form Tottenham sent a strong message to rest of the league as they press on for that much-sought-after fourth spot in the Premier League.  I bet the rest of London will take the Lillywhites very serious now especially as Gareth Bale is in the form of his life.  It is very pleasing, especially in Bradford University UBar, to see how many Manchester United haters get silenced when they win, grunts here and there, bad-mouthing of officials and what not... Oh the beautiful sound of silence...

A very good friend of mine, a Chelsea fan I should mention, was having a birthday bbq, he was taking advantage of the weather I guess; he had invited some friends of his who weren't familiar with our circle of friends.  Now before I go on, I will give you a quick history of my circle of friends when it comes to food, gatherings and eating.  We are unstoppable, we once ordered 10 12-inch pizzas of different toppings to be shared amongst six of us, all of the pizzas (crust included) were gone in just over 3 minutes 11 seconds.  Back to the bbq, apparently he had bought 20 burgers hoping that there will be plenty to go round and some to spare (the naive assumption of one of his friends).  When we arrived, we slowly made ourselves feel at home, scanning the area for the buns, cheese, burgers and salad dressings, slowly and steadily we got closer to the bbq stand and even helped out with the flipping. Unknown to the 'other' guests we issued ourselves with our rations and armed with two burgers to one soldier we munched away, one of his friends later came outside hoping to have some burger only to find an empty stand, with coal still burning away... In a defeated tone all he could utter was '20 burgers! how can 20 burgers be gone so quickly?'.  In the words of Bugs Bunny 'he don't know us very well, do he?' That has probably got to be the highlight of my day! Indeed!

                   where did they all go?

Well, the poem for today is... 
 The Negro Man

His voice, his tone, no different from theirs,

His thoughts, his logic just like theirs.

He reasons with wisdom and speaks with wit,

He has his policies and his rules are strict.

He knows good from bad, friend from foe.

His tears are shed from joy and woe.

His knuckles are bruised from labours of the land,

His knees grazed from bending over in sand.

He knows love and knows hate

He takes pain as part of life’s fate.

He is the Negro man.

Only of recent was he confirmed ‘a man’.

When the lights go off, can you pick him out?

We are all the same when the lights go out.

Adieu!

Tunes In My Head

Like I promised, I will be posting poems daily and today is no exception.  Today's poem is Tunes In My Head.
It is about the thoughts and feeling we have daily and how they being played out as music in our minds. 

Tunes In My Head

All alone, in the dark at night

I sit still, so still I could pass for dead

All alone, in the chill of the night

I speak to myself and the voices in my head

Inside is a constant star-lit night

A big camp-like fire burning bright

The dancers of my thoughts emerge at night

The drummers drum, the dances begin

Each mood blows the fire’s light

From the stamping of my dancers within

So when I’m sad, happy or indifferent, at night-

The drummers play to the tunes in my head

My dancers dance to the drums in my head

I alone can feel the pounding at night

I alone hum to the tunes in my head

All alone, in the quiet of the night

I listen out for the tunes in my head

All alone, in the stillness of the night

I also dance to the tunes in my head.

Adieu!

Bradford ACS Election Shambles

The Afro-Caribbean Society in the University of Bradford has long had a strong following from the students particularly the undergraduates in the first two years.  Being a member of the executive team has been a prestigious affair and the roles come with no manuals but a load of testing points.  I have had first hand experience on the running of the ACS and all the effort put into campaign strategies and publicity. I ran for President in March 2007 and I won with strong and overwhelming  support from across its members.

The 2007/08 term has been one of best years in the history of the ACS in the university and I would say it was down to the team of executives I had and the support of the students.  After all, they are the judges on our performance. 

We delivered on numerous occasions after a shaky start but the real test was the End of Year Ball.  We coined the name 'One Night Only' after the Dreamgirls song.  In essence, we wanted to stress on the fact that for one night only and maybe only for that night in their student lives our members will feel like royalty with celebrity status.  For this and several other reasons when it was time to hand over to a new executive team competition for the positions were high and hard fought.  I remember 3 candidates for the Vice President role that needed one winner, such was the zeal to carry on our good work.  Slowly that fire has been burning out with no one to fuel it.  Our successors had a fairly good year but failed on the real test they were unable to deliver an End of Year Ball and had conducted elections that were grossly marred with corruption and sheer lack of professionalism and respect for one another.

Being a very vocal member of society and a reference point for the ACS executives I stressed my point that the moment we turn a blind eye on corruption and disrespect for rules and constitution we fail the ACS as a whole.  My warning was not heeded and my fears are now reality.

The current crop of ACS executives have failed to carry on the good name of ACS, they have failed to fly the Bradford flag high.  With no intention to disrespect their persons, they have given into complacency and a backward mentality of a care-free attitude.  To illustrate my point, the manifesto night and the elections were held yesterday, to my shock and disbelief, there are 8 positions to run for and there are 8 candidates running, one for each post.  This already breeds carelessness, the lack of competition for a position is a strong disincentive to begin with because the candidates will win the post by default, the availability of re-opening the nominations is there only for the sake of formalities.  I do not see the members coming back with deadlines and exams fast approaching to re-cast their votes.  Furthermore the candidates who were running were generally ill-informed about the duties of their posts or bore an air of arrogance and cockiness which did not go down well with the electorate and elder statesmen of the ACS.

I am, however, an opti-realist so I am hoping and wishing that there will be real content and character should they win the elections and I wish for an overhaul of the manner in which the way the ACS carries its name and the image of the ACS in Bradford and around its neighbouring universities. Gone are the days Leeds ACS looked to us for direction.

I reserve my judgement for the new executives and will see how next year's elections are run but so far the elections this year have been a mockery to the term election and utter shambles.

The Fashion House

THE FASHION HOUSE

After some consideration as to if it is worthwhile blogging on an event that happened months ago, I have decided that for the mere fact it was a fashion show and a fund-raiser for Give A Child Hope's child-friendly antivirals and the University of Bradford's Student's Union Haiti Housing project, then regardless of how long ago it was I owe it to the public to blog about it.

To give you an idea of what The Fashion House was about, I'd briefly touch on the organisers, (of which I was a member) and the sponsors.

The Bradford University Red Ribbon Society is one of many university societies that take it upon their youthful shoulders to bring about an increased awareness on the realities of HIV/AIDS around the world and our smaller individual communities.  The society is in its first year having only been fully acknowledged by the Students Union as an active society.  I have been the Secretary so far from it formation, constitution writing and its events.  Fund-raising in a predominantly student community can be quite a challenge and this was no exception.  

The Fashion House was created to showcase the pieces of talented students and professionals of fashion and design from around the UK and by so doing attract a large enough audience to raise funds.  It sounds pretty straightforward on paper and logically it should also be very straight forward.  It challenge however to confirm as many designer months ahead and keep reminding them that they have a commitment; it also involves recruiting students to be models and getting hair and make-up artists to make it look like the real thing. Oh it also involves getting acts like rappers, poets, singers, dancers to fill in the blank spaces in the program line-up and kill time as the models get changed.  With a large organising group I'm proud to say everything went to plan.

We had to have meetings with the university concerning health and safety issues, we had to ask for funding from the campaign budget of the Students Union and get our lights, stage and equipment hire all paid for and on time by the Students Union. So all in all, backstage was pretty hectic chasing up paperwork and returning phone-calls or leaving voice messages just to make sure that nothing is left to chance.

The project of raising money was initially all about funding Give A Child Hope, the development of the University of Bradford's Institute of Pharmaceutical Innovation (IPI) but because we were seeking assistance from the Student Union we also had to make a commitment to their Haiti Housing Project and thus the fund-raiser was for both projects.  The Students Union then became our sponsors and without their valued contribution the show could not have been.

"We were able to raise £534 from the night, and in my opinion that is a very big statement of commitment and support from the audience and I know this will go a long way in saving the lives of children or helping rebuild the lives of the Haitian people affected by the earthquake."

A few pictures I've been able to add from the build up of the show.

AIDS IS REAL

When They Leave [bitter-sweet pill of parenthood]

In trying to get into the routine of regularly posting blogs, I'd start of by posting a poem everyday until I have exhausted all my decent (reader-friendly) poems.

The poem for today is 'When They Leave'

Now the story, or better yet, inspiration behind this poem is about children growing up and leaving home and I think I wrote this with Simon and Garfunkel's 'Cats In A Cradle' playing in the background.  Every parent wants their kids to grow up and stand on their on two feet but in the back of their minds they also miss the days when the sounds of little children was all they lived for.

Enjoy...

When They Leave

I walked into my study,

greeted by a desolate pack of chairs.

They stand where they stood-

the day before, and the days before.

No carefree spirits to push them around,

no reckless zeal to pinch out their foam,

nor wobble their frames.

I miss the yells and screams,

the youthful arguments with will and no wit.

The toddler’s high pitch, deafening my ears.

The adolescents rebellious grumble at a task.

I miss my boys, where are my girls?

I now rush to the front door

at every sound of its bell.

Hoping it’ll be one of my own.

It was only a few years ago,

I remember whispering to them “Papa has to go now”

And now in a replica of my tone they whisper to me-

”Papa, I have to go now”

I can only wish for Christmas to come sooner

So they shall return like pilgrims.

My own flock, my own children.

Adieu!

Mother... Africa

This is a poem I wrote a while back on my opinion on the current state of Africa and some young Africans.

Mother… Africa

Oh land of my mother,

Mother of my father,

Teacher of my brothers,

Nurse to my sisters.

You have raised me well,

I stand as one of yours,

Proud to descend from you.

Yet amidst this pride I cry.

Your children disrespect you,

Your sons destroy themselves,

Your daughters devalue themselves.

Oh mother we are very sick

Oh mother we are dying here.

Amongst us, we seek a leader,

A son, a daughter, to teach us,

Teach us your true values our culture and our heritage.

There are the few that remember,

We are the few that will not surrender.

I gladly take the baton, I shall run,

Run that mile to prove outsiders wrong,

Run that mile to rectify what is wrong,

Run that mile for the old and the young,

Run that mile for Africa for we are strong.

Adieu

Hiatus? or Lack of inspiration

For a while, actually, for over a year I haven't blogged on anything. The reason, to be honest, is a lack of inspiration to sit with a laptop and write about how I feel or what I'm thinking. Writing about emotions or thoughts, evoking discussions or debates is something I'd attribute to other members of my family, renowned for their expert writing skills.
However, I have come to realise that blogging does not have a set format, the writer should write as freely as they speak or breathe in air, following no hard and fast rules on blogging.
My intention therefore, is to return to blogging, more along the lines of poetry, sports and HIV/AIDS.

So until my next blog... catch up with my previous posts!

Take Care!

WPO