Adieu Michael Jackson and….Those people!

Death is always a sad affair. This one resonates more because it is that of a household name, one that has come to be known and loved the world over for all his endeavours.

Many of us grew up listening to MJ and cast our mind back to the days like when LWT [Lagos Weekend Television] would air MJ musical videos repeatedly to our delight.

This is when we put our differences aside and pay tribute to a real legend in his own right.

This is also when we give recognition to those people in our communities who die every day as a result , directly or indirectly, of their circumstances, in particular abject poverty. Those people receive minimal recognition for their painstaking endurance and agony in their lifetime. Those people are always on my mind, more so now.

Those people are my heroes.

This is a tribute to all those people who, but for their respective circumstances, may very well be alive today.

Perhaps like many, I find the indefinite strike action disconcerting and disappointing.

The academic year is drawing to a close, with impending exams to round off the year.  Much effort, on the part of students and indeed their lecturers, has gone into preparation for this annual finale – exams.   With an indefinite strike action comes uncertainty for the students which, in itself, is undue pressure that will serve to hinder progress and effectively derail any scheduled plans post academics.

Just about boarding a flight from London to Abuja, I asked a crew member welcoming passengers on board what the chances of an upgrade were because I missed the bulkhead / emergency exit seats and standing at 6ft 3” tall, it is a struggle squishing myself in my allocated seat for the night, what with the DVT and I went on.  The steward, who must have heard this before from other passengers or perhaps me,  kindly took my boarding pass stub and told me he will send someone over as soon as all passengers boarded.

It was a hot and sunny afternoon in Rouen, France and the next intercity train to Paris was not due for over an hour.

What to do, I pondered and looked across the road from the train station at the Hotel De Dieppe.  I crossed the road and entered the lounge of the hotel.  As is typical in most places in France, after 2pm lunch is near non-existent, so I decided to whet the whistle instead.