*Non-graduates’ training programmes also open for additional 100,000 young

IN WHAT IS THE FIRST ROLL-OUT OF ITS N500B SOCIAL INVESTMENT PROGRAMMES, the Buhari presidency will start taking applications online for positions in the 500,000 direct teacher jobs scheme, through an internet portal named npower.gov.ng. 

While the portal would be live on Saturday June 11, applications are expected to start coming in on June 12, the beginning of next week. Young unemployed Nigerians are advised to visit the website and apply.

It would be recalled that President Muhammadu Buhari in his May 29th Democracy Day broadcast to the nation formally launched the unprecedented social investment programmes already provided for under the 2016 Appropriation by the administration.

The 500,000 Teacher Corps, nicknamed N-Power Teach on the portal, is one of the three direct job creation and training schemes Nigerians can start applying for from Sunday, June 12.

Others are N-Power…

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Ayo Sogunro


Nigerians have an understandable—if somewhat childish and sometimes nasty—habit of singling out a trait in one of their rulers and examining critical arguments from the perspective of that trait every time. Take the Jonathan administration, for example: when critics raised an issue, Jonathan apologists would direct the argument to “But he is a nice (or good, meek, humble) person” or worse: “You are saying this because he is from an ethnic minority”. Or in Lagos, when Fashola’s spending was criticised: “But he is working, compared to others.”

This social behaviour is generally amusing, but it becomes dangerous when it starts to repress the space for critical thought.

And now, with the budding sycophancy of the Buhari regime, this attitude continues. Buhari apologists tend to review every criticism of current Nigerian politics and government from the perspective of: “But he is fighting corruption”.

Hey, Buhari is disregarding the rule of law. “But…

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Confessions of a Nigerian in Diaspora

Today, as I look around my apartment,  at the TV stand now bare; at the bedside table now lamp-less; at the counter-tops now gleaming; and at the pillar around which my four shipping boxes are gathered; I find myself excited.

The vestiges of my former home fill me with an inexplicable thrill. Their emptiness calls out to me, to remind me of where I am going… “To your true home” they say – where your people are; where your contributions are needed; where your dreams may come true…

Again today, as I look around my apartment, at the sockets in the wall, at the faucets on the sinks, and the wireless router still plugged in, I am sad. Because there are some things I cannot bring with me. I cannot bring the taps that never run dry, the power that never cuts off, nor the internet that keeps me speedily connected.

The vestiges of my former home fill me with worry. Their ampleness calls out to me, asking how I will survive… “It’ll be tough without us” they say – Don’t you remember? Those days spent in darkness? Those hours spent listless? You can’t have forgotten…

Still today, as I look around my apartment, I cannot help but think: “What if?” What if every Nigerian could live as I have lived for the past few years. What if they had power 24/7, endless water supply, and blazing fast internet? What if every Nigerian could afford a place like mine: situated in a good neighbourhood, close to a hospital, a grocery store, and a university? What if…

So today, as I look around my apartment, I am ashamed. I am ashamed because when I had these things, I did not think of my people. They were not the first thing on my mind. I had other priorities, and other matters to attend to. More important than… yes, more important than my people.

But this is not the first time I have written about Nigeria. As a Nigerian in diaspora, I have tried many times to “represent.” I have carried myself in a manner befitting of my countrymen, I have worn our attire proudly and boldly. I have joyfully celebrated our triumphs, and mourned our failures.

Yet I am guilty.

I am guilty of doing nothing for my people: Of enjoying these luxuries while my people suffered. I am guilty of escapism…

Therefore as I kneel at the guillotine, my head prepared for slaughter, I cry out to my countrymen at home, “What else could I have done!?” – and to my countrymen away from home I say… “What else could you be doing?”

What else could you be doing?




Style with Substance

It is becoming an eye sore, one that is slowly progressing to my heart and robbing every inch of my thoughts. What is with the superficiality in Nigeria? No, let’s pin the tail on the horse. What is with the superficiality in Lagos, Nigeria?

A couple of years ago, I moved and now, every time I talk about going home, my friends tell me “Oh, you will be shocked at the things you’ll see when you return”. That makes me really uncomfortable seeing as I always wished that some American ideals never made it to Nigeria. But I was wrong because today, everything in Nigeria is imported, straight up to our ideals. What part of our culture, morals, belief system are we going to preserve now that we are copy-pasting America? I think the worst part about this is that many countries are modernized and classified as first-world countries, but…

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WHY I AM CORRUPT | In Defense of Nigerians by Ayo Sogunro

I was going to write about this, but found that someone else had said everything I wanted to say quite well. So enjoy my views, shared and captured by Ayo Sogunro.

Ayo Sogunro

Nigerians are corrupt, they say. I am a Nigerian and I know why I am corrupt.

I am corrupt because I am hungry. Because I need the food, the whole food and nothing but the food. Because I have to “hustle” if I want to see the food. Because without food I am useless, to myself and to society.  A hungry man has no principles; morality is a luxury affordable to the well fed. I am corrupt because my hustle for food is filled with obstacles, because I cannot work as a labourer without tipping the foreman, because I cannot work in the civil service without greasing the wheels, because I cannot work in the private sector without “knowing” someone, because I cannot get a contract without contributing to the network. I am corrupt because I am hungry.

I am corrupt because nobody knows tomorrow. I am corrupt because my…

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