Monday, 3 November 2014



A time will come, the old man told me, when what you write would be read around the world. But the burden is heavy, he said, as you will need to speak truth to all men and women and be fair to all of them at the same time.

Simon Ateba
You will meet many writers along the way, but only one out of ten thousand would rise above biases, above their country, their continent, their tribe, their religion, race and themselves. The old man left and that time is yet to come. But as I look back, I begin to understand why I have friends around the world. It is not because I told them I own a private jet or live in the best part of town. It is not even because I told them I live a perfect life. It is simply because I got tired of living a fake make believe type of life. It is because I realised that no matter how rich, handsome, intelligent or pious a man is, the same fate awaits us all. So let's be real, let's be happy with or without a car. Let's make the best out of our lives with what we have. 

You know, I have lived long enough and got white hair by the way, to know that whether here in Ikeja area of Lagos, western Nigeria, where I am writing this, or over there wherever you're reading it, the truth remains that in life, when we are gone, only the lives we have touched will remember us long after our cars and jets had been forgotten.

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