What Is On Your Vision Board?

I am just kidding. You don’t need to show me. Vision boards can be some of the most intimate and (even) embarrassing forms of expression that exist.

What are they? And why do they matter?

Vision boards are simply a visual representation of your hopes, dreams, goals and aspirations.

Your desired future; in pictures.

They matter because in many cases, they have been a powerful motivation tool and in others, they have been simply prophetic.

Imagine that. Imagine having all the great things you want in your life just after sticking pictures if them on a board somewhere.

Magical, right?

Q: Awesome, so why doesn’t everyone have them? My friend had one and it didn’t work, why should I even try one?

A: Vision boards are amazing but they aren’t powered by pixie dust. They are powered by vision, hardwork, fortune and faith; or various combinations of the four.

Everyone doesn’t have them because not everyone knows about them and many that know about them don’t know how powerful they can be.

They might not have worked for your friend but I suggest you try them before knocking them because they might work for you.

Q: Okay. So what is going to be on it?

A: Aha! Whatever you want. Whatever you look forward to. Whatever you can see in your future.

The beauty about this is you don’t even need to add time lines (though it would be great to do so).

Just pictures of your future.

So go find some pictures that represent your dream.lofe and pit them up.

Who knows the miracles waiting to happen when you focus your faith and imagination?

I may not know what is on your vision Board but you certainly should.

A vision board might just be what you need to channel your energy to wards new heights, achievements and experiences.

What are you waiting for? Make one today.

Where is Nnamdi Kanu?

In a flamboyant show of force the Nigerian government crushed Nnamdi Kanu’s budding Biafran uprising. Operation Python, was the name given to the army exercise that invaded Abia state to squelch the uprising of the Indigenous People Of Biafra (IPOB) movement on September 14th, 2017.


Members of IPOB have since been arraigned before the Federal High Court Abuja on charges of treason but Nnamdi Kanu seems to have disappeared.

Reports in the media have said he was seen in Ghana, but many people think that is just a ruse. Some Nigerians have declared that an unthinkable atrocity was committed and Nnamdi Kanu’s lawyer has called on the army to produce his client. In a statement, the Nigerian army said they do not have Mr Kanu in their custody and they are unaware of his whereabouts.


Even though, according to Nigerian Law, Nnamdi Kanu is being charged, many people are still concerned about his welfare. It is a fundamental human right that every life be protected. Was Nnamdi Kanu’s life protected? Was he killed? Was he seen in Ghana?


If he is alive, where are the pictures? If he is alive, why hasn’t he made any statement to allay the fears of his supporters?


If he is dead, why isn’t there any outcry by his family in social and mainstream media?

So many questions, not enough answers, but one question remains: where is Nnamdi Kanu?


A Show Fit For A King

In Kundeve, there was a King called Wazobiadi. King Wazobiadi loved his people, and his people loved him. Every year, King Wazobiadi would throw a party for his entire kingdom. At the party, people would perform. The best performance would win a bag of gold, a mansion and a royal blessing.

Every one wanted to win! So, before the party the town was a beehive of preparation. Singers sang. Dancers danced, spinning round till they fell, in dizzy heaps. Jugglers, threw balls into the air till they were rainbows of colour. Everywhere, people practised hard to give a show fit for a king.

Except, in Sade’s house. Sade’s house was at the outskirts of the kingdom. It was small, with mud walls and a leaky roof. In rain, it dripped buckets of water, in Hammartan, it blew in bellows of dust. Sade lived there with Grandmother Akon.

One day Grandma Akon gave Sade a surprise– a flute. “Play it, Sade. May your music bring healing, and happiness everywhere you go.” She said.

Sade loved playing the flute. He played it in the morning on the way to the bush. He played it on his way to the stream. He played the flute everywhere he went.

Everyday, they would wake up early to gather sticks for sale and fruits for food. They would walk many miles through the forest. In the evening they would return to their hut, sweaty tired and hungry.

One day, Sade saw a Canary looking sad. “Canary, why are you so sad?”

“Because I can’t find red berries for my chicks,” said Canary.

” I know were you can get juicy delicious red berries,” Sade said, and he led Canary to berries Grandma had seen earlier.

“Thank you very much!” The Canary said, plucking them for her chicks.

Another day, Sade saw Monkey trying to scratch his back. “Hello, Mr Monkey, can I help?”

“Please!” Monkey said, “I am itching like I hugged a bag of fleas, and I can’t reach the spot!”

Sade got a stick and helped scratch Monkey’s back.

“Thank you Sade,” Monkey said with a smile of relief.

On his way home, Sade saw squirrels sulking by the stream.

” Sade, look! The wind blew our blue beach ball across the stream. We can’t swim. Can you help us? Please.”

Sade swam across the stream and got the ball, for the squirrels. The squirrels were overjoyed. They danced and cheered, wriggling their bushy tails and somersaulting in the air.

“Thank you Sade!” They chorused.

“You are welcome. Have a great day,” Sade said.

On his way, he saw Elephant thrashing about with a coconut covering his face.

“Wait!” Sade said.”Let me help you.”

“Please, my eyes are on fire. I can’t see.” Elephant said, sobbing.

“Calm down. I am leading you to the stream where we can wash this off.”

Sade led Elephant to the stream and rinsed the coconut pulp off his eyes.

“Thank you. This is so kind of you,” Elephant said.

“You are welcome,” Sade replied.


* *

A week to the King’s party, Grandma Akon and Sade were formally invited to the ball.

“Grandma Akon,”said Sade ,”Can I present something before the king?”

Grandma Akon laughed. “My darling, what would ‘you’ present before the king?”

“I’ll play my flute.” Sade replied. His eyes were closing and his voice floated in the dark hut.”If I win, I would take you away from here Grandma. We will have a mansion and a bag of gold. Imagine that, Grandma. We would never sleep hungry again.”

“Indeed, but you need to do something very special to win. You need to do something the king has never seen before,” said Grandma Akon.

Sade lay on his mat on the cold, hard floor thinking about what Grandma Akon said. There has to be a way, he thought. He fell asleep thinking about this.

The next morning, He woke smiling.
“Grandma! I have an idea! I will get my friends to join me. My show will be colourful and different.” He said.

“Good idea,”Grandma Akon said patting his head. “Who will be members your team?”

“I will ask the canary to sing, the monkey to drum, the squirrels to dance and the elephant to carry us there.”

“Very well.” Grandma Akon said. “You should go at once.” So, he dashed off.

Sade went to the forest and talked to his friends: Canary,Monkey,Elephant and the squirrels. He told them about the King’s party and asked them to be a part of his team.

“Canary, you will sing. Monkey, you will drum. Elephant, you’ll carry us there. Squirrels, you will dance,juggle and somersault.”

Everyone agreed. So Sade taught them a forgotten Kundeve song his Grandma “We Are Better Together”. He played his flute and they practised. They practised everyday until the big day.

On the big day, the town was festooned with gold and silver ballons and colourful ribbons. Many wonderful dances and songs were performed singly. Sade and his friends were the only group performance. With smiles on their faces, they sang, danced and drummed before King Wazobiadi with their whole hearts. When they finished, the king stood up and clapped saying “Bravo! Bravo! Do it again!”

So they did. They won that year’s show. Sade was given a bag of gold and the king’s blessing. When they asked him where he wanted his mansion, guess what he said?

He said, “I want it near Grandma’s hut, close to my friends, in case they ever need my help again.”

“You are a very wise boy,” the King said. “It will be done at once.”

And it was. The king built a sprawling mansion for Sade and Grandma Akon. His friends Canary, Monkey, Elephant and the squirrels had special spots in its gardens. In the evenings the melody of their music would fill the air. And anyone that listened hard would hear :

We are better together,
We are stronger together,
One for all, all for one,
We are one!


Lessons From Bitcoin, Tulip Mania & The Nigerian Stock Market


Everyone wants more money: beggars, students, thieves, workers, billionaires—everyone. Money determines the choices available to you, the places you can live and the things you can or cannot do. So humans are always trying to get more money, more resources. Economists call it the law of unlimited wants. Humans always want more and our want is insatiable.

To get more money, we do a variety of things: we work, we steal, we beg. But more honourably, and sometimes more successfully, we invest. Investments have the ability to change people’s financial futures and lift them out of poverty. Businesses providing goods and services have done this for the longest time, but the paradigm has shifted to show that that the most important investments are those that require your time or supervision, the ones where your money works for you.

Enter real estate, commodities, the stock market, forex trading and most recently, cryptocurrencies. These investment avenues offer a return that does not depend on your time or effort, but invest in the right one at the right time and you will be rich—or at least richer—than you would have been without the investment. Great idea, except when such investments fail: when the real estate market crashes, when the forex trade does not yield, when the price of a commodity (e.g. crude oil) plummets, and when a cryptocurrency’s value crashes.

Read the full article on Global Voices, here


Loud Love

Today, I saw a child whose mother could not speak

with our fingers and eyes we choreographed her history

How long had she been sick? Did the fever come with chills? Was the vomitting this little or this much?

I may not have gotten all the facts I should and for this I apologize

But one thing that could not be misunderstood

was the love in that mother’s eyes.

Top ten literary magazines to send very VERY short flashes



Some say the Internet shrank our attention spans. I say… What was I saying? Oh, sorry about that. I was putting the finishing touches on a very, very short piece of prose that I’m writing. It’s about two hundred words long. It’s so short that its language outshines its plot. That’s what makes very short prose similar to poetry. Similar, but not identical. Whatever you call them–flash fictions, sudden fictions, micro-stories, or prose poems–ultra short prose pieces are thrilling to read. It’s their ambition. They enfold the world with tiny hands.

I classify my own quickie thrill-rides as crosses between flash fiction and narrative poetry. I call them “flash” for short. To me, the term “fiction” doesn’t exactly fit and does more harm than good. It freights my little works with a cargo of expectations more appropriate to the short story. A layered stack of expectations, in fact, with…

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10 best lit mags to send your flash fiction (and get happily rejected from)



  1. SmokeLong—Number one not just because the journal is dedicated to flash but because of the consistent quality of the flash they publish. Also, the weekly guest editors guarantee regular bumps of the old reset button so that tastes don’t stagnate. And finally because in a crowded AWP room full of circus style barkers at every table and no limit to the ego, meeting Tara, their primary editor, was like a calm zephyr breeze on a balmy day.
  2. PANK—Hey 520 Duotropers can’t be wrong, can they? And despite the fact that just about every hip up-and-comer has the PANK patch on their writer’s summer camp sleeve, the place knows how to spot and publish memorable flash. It doesn’t hurt to be a repeat offender on the Wigleaf top 50 list year in and year out either.
  3. Word Riot—Perhaps my favorite place to get rejected from. I have no…

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Tuesday Shorts: The Pigeon’s Nest – Sibongile Fisher

This story was written by an emerging award winning African writer, it is funny, smart, dark and deep. Read and share please.

Naane le Moya

My grandmother could bargain with death. She knew who was to die and it was always up to her to let them die or to trade their life for that of someone else. My turn came twice and both times she traded my aunt Mophi and my sister Limpho. Mophi was her least favourite child. She was not quiet and not shy but somehow unmemorable. Limpho on the other hand was sickly, she seemed the better one to die. When my grandmother found a dead pigeon on our doorstep she called for a family meeting. No one came— not even my mother—who lives two streets away. I don’t remember my mother’s face. She only contributes to my existence by showing up once every three years.

We are sitting under the apricot tree when the news of My Uncle Boy’s death came. He died digging for gold in an old mine…

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The Nigerian god

The Nigerian god
Worshiped from east to west, revered from north to south, called upon by the believer and unbeliever,
as fickle as her followers, twisted and turned by their imagination, powerless to change hearts or create repentance,
Blind to the evils done in her name, quick to give vengeance,
without scruple, doctrine or creed,
Guardian of the thief,
Guide of the oppressor,
Giver of revenge,
Custodian of curses
Created in the image of her own, changing everyday, recreated in every breath,mirror of the masses,
sand, wind and ashes,
Thunder, fire, lightning upon our foes.