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Journal of a marooned sailor 3

By the gods, today i was going to make a martyr of myself and leave this island of hunger to the one beyond. The necessities; food and water had vanished to the insatiable bowels and a loaded gun was the remaining loyal subject. Say, i should journey to hades by self inflicted fire, destroy the ants and non- living remnats around my new niche - my reward could be 16 virgins in the heaven of the gods. Flock of birds flew above, their mockery embedded in their hums. They were watching and waiting for thw dying man last earthly choice. They were selfish- they could help, fly into the forest and bring foods, but they waited. My death will serve a purpose. On my fathers name, i shall not give in to their mockery nor die for their purpose. My choice will be made in solitude and not with their mocking lullaby . I picked a stone to chase them from my sight. The gods gave a sign, two birds fell. They made agonizing sounds which formed a word to my ears; HOPE

Journal of a marooned sailor 2

I was lying down on my fronds, my mosquitoes was playing well and the body was a good host- entertaining and not complaining. There she arrived, the body carved naturally- a first class student of God might have been the sculptor. To my story, she came towards the lying man; I. Her cloth all revealing, a blouse that shows her complete bra, her nipples poking merrily from the busty chest. There I laid, she dropped something and bend to take, I was amazed at the details I could see without paying. This is the island I should be. My manliness was poking from underneath, could I hold it before she comes ? By heaven! Save me, should this seeds come before her, I will be in eternal damnation. And I did. I woke with a start, a wet dream at this stage? The gods must be having a good time. Two days in the island and the body is living in a fantasy of a female. If I ever made it out of here, the world would have turn to Adam and Eve era, the present world is a city of nudity where ladies roam

Journal of a marooned sailor

Yesterday was my marooned day- mark it on your calendar, for it may be hard for my castaway mind to remember. The prime mover of my being marooned is simple; my mind was not in the same frequency as my fellows. My cogent arguments and eloquence could not save the life worth a loaded gun, jar of water and bread. In two days, the owner of this island will put a bullet into his brain to avoid the hunger games. To yesterday, I had found me a palm tree with shade and slept from dusk to dawn. The lullaby from my friends with wings made my first night memorable, my friend-mosquito came with his families, their songs and serving rate could not prevent my long night nap. How could I have slept? Oblivious of my surrounding? I woke with a start, clearly making sense of the things I should have made effort to know first; my environment. Habituation should have been my first point of action, yet like others I slept. My memory swayed to home where people have neglected the utmost; with the spir

HOW TO KILL BOKO HARAM

Battles are won with the killings of the commanding officer or by cutting off the enemies supplies. The death of the queen bee will make it subject become disorganized, when a  battle strategist is killed, the soldiers morales will definitely be thwarted. You can't stop a tree by cutting off its branches. Nigeria army in the past weeks have successfully recovered the lost town and killed many boko haram soldiers, but like most battles , killing the enemy army might only cause them to retreat and recuperate unless the roots are destroyed . In 2009 when Yusuf was killed - the first leader before the Shekau, I told the ones that care to listen that Boko haram will rise again and they will be more deadlier unless  we cut off the root and remove the seeds from Nigerians before it germinates. Killing boko haram means cutting off their funds,  destroying their allies, background leaders and planting a new seed into the heart of Nigerians. How? By creating Islamic centres in the norther