Voice of Kamsonality

Days have gone Weeks have passed Months as well It is a year But your memories are fresh. You left a while We cry for long And mourn for life We are far apart But your memories are fresh. You are there they say With the Lord I pray Paradise your home At there you smile But your memories are fresh. Moments are grieved A times I smile When ever I thought You are above With the Lord so Kind But your memories are fresh. Though I cry But I pray for you Where ever you are, Your good deeds keeps you company But your memories are fresh. Your exit pains Losing you immeasurable Whenever I look up the sky The shining star is you But your memories are fresh. Though it hurts That you are gone too soon But I can't question God I know is for good But your memories are fresh. #Kamsonality

Prior to 1960, the game was the one of the masters and their slaves. This led to moves by the slaves in the quest for their emancipation. But were the agitators really among the perceived oppressed?  More venom has been poured out which lead to the freedom of the then slaves. No sword was used nor blood splits, as the freedom was gotten through the use of pen. Although, after the freedom, another form of slavery showcased itself. And that was the slaves oppressing the slaves. It is obvious that our heroes that fought for the freedom built the home base on their personal interest. Haven succeeded in chasing out the 'red nose' as a group of people fighting for same goal, the story eventually changed in the quest to protect regional integrity. This in essence continue to make the slaves servants even more than how they  used to serve before whether directly or indirectly. It further lead to a subsequent dichotomy where  the rich and influential hold one class and the poor masses w

  Together we are 60: Mother spoke of how, we, once moved by chains, Became bound by the communion of aggression Against the common yoke in a common name: Nigerians - who preached a future 'though pains; Our heroes past; who fought wars by words. And today's bond, the birth of that liberation. Together we are 60. We remember the white bangles once on our hands; and had seen the decorative shackles in our minds. The fabric of colonialism was embroidered by blood Until Time happened and the Khakis faded away To democracy's unveiling, and there we have stood Tailoring the Indivisibility of our motherland. Together we are 60: We are then named giants of our race Though we ponder and wipe at a time, But behold our Freedom so dear Our diversity our strength, we stand unified And the struggles of yesterday stands to be remembered For we live in today of good memory. #kamsonality #Nigeria@60.

it is propitious the codified nature of our system  but abandoned to the alien culture that flabbergasts our well being it was charitable how our parents were raised but abandoned us to the perplexing wicked world it is worrisome the lewd utterances of the elders in the presence of the youngers that corrupt their moral psyche it is condemnable the nonchalant attitude of the parents towards the chastity of the God given gems[female children] whom we should fiercely fight to protect. crying! weeping! screaming! all alone could not let the innocent soul got free from the hands of the beasts roaming free in our streets after the worst had happened we frequently ran to the poor man's last hope seeking for justice, but to no avail and cannot point out why. when we move to enquire why they tell us to keep mute if our inquisitiveness moves the next is "at your own risk" we sneaked in and out but later found a reason  to our greatest surprise we are simply penniless Lukman Abdulka

           Little is the world            My brothers and sisters            Shoulder is not on your heads,             Mighty has gone            Mighty arise,what a            Man does to become a history.          What will you do for            People to learn,            Be it good or bad,            Words are opposite.          Boys and girls,            Men and women,            Young and old,             Pass and fail.           Life and death            Are all words and their opposite.            Little is the world            My brothers!           Search your heart. Temang Chinplang.

In an unclear circumstance With an uncertain mission Attached to a vague vision Your thought crossed all over the mind. The body is trapped beyond movement Sinking in the ocean of grief And mind concealed with thought for centuries Where have you been ? For I couldn't see your face nor hear your voice Life is meaningless Food is tasteless Time is useless Everything is senseless It is now clear that; Aggression is real Depression can steal Dysthimia can kill Of all, your departure is beyond worst. Lukman Abdulkarim (Hakeem)

     Something is not right,             There upstairs,              Maybe the wrong              Is down here.      I have been knocking,             At the door             Since I learned              How to pray.           There is only silence             Where are servants?              I mean the angels.          I don't see them.              Peering through curtains              To see who is calling,              When the master at               Last "come in"            Will they let me in?               Through the front               Or at the back entrance?               Figure it out,where               Your short comings are. Temang Chinplang.

Saeed Kamalu Bako Where is she going? Time is quite fast and she is becoming older by the day. Religion and tradition have inclined their dictates on her. She is now 20+ but still  flirting with them, knowing that they are "Yan amore". When will she fulfil the obligation designed on her by both religion and culture. Who will then propose, since she has eliminate focus? But the question that remain vague is when is she going to settle down? Her dream seems uncertain. Having a handsome and God fearing husband, living in a good and mighty mansion, surrounded by little adorable kids, living a happier and worth siting example life... But can't she see that she is now turning to sugar Mummy? What of the dream of loving to be called with all the "honey like" names? At last, she preached to herself, and the last was to be good. Let her have him, let the love of her life come to her before it becomes too late. Let her be herself, so as to actualize her drea

I am the north whose daily headlines are casted with blood I no more answered the peaceful north of  Sardauna and Tafawa Balewa I am the helpless whose leaders forsake for long And allow me heal my wounds alone I am the north with numbers for winning elections And targeted to be reduced after elections. I am the north of Mass burials Whose corpses are fleshes scattered I am the north, the epicenter of the N In me, Sporadic gunshots becomes normal. I am the north not the North I am the north who lives in Nigeria A place that mourns for a foreign corpse and pretend not to see mine I am the north with no means of communication to portray my reputation I am killed with my son at the Roof top unshaken The bleeds of the north is the bleeds of the North And the bleeds of the North is my bleeds #kamsonality #NortthernLivesMatter

By Saeed Kamalu Baki The Kano based music crooner, Abdulrahman Tesleem, aka Titahot has been described as a dynamic artist who can sing to any music and work with any producer. Abdulrahaman Tasleem AKA Titahot. Titahot's manager, Shakirudeen Bolaji aka Beejay who stated this in a media chat further described Titahot as a hardworking musician who 'understands how things work in the Nigerian music industry'. Speaking further on how versatile Titahot is, the manager said 'his music would blend with any kind of musician. He can go into RnB, hip hop, pop, afrobeat many more.' Chronicling how he met the musician, Beejay hinted that the king of Zamani Empire has been his trustworthy friend from childhood. He stressed that 'I trust him even though many Nigerians are not trusted in recent times. In fact, there is no how I can be a manager to someone I don't trust'. Titahot's manager: Shakirudeen Bolaji AKA Beejay. As an hardworking artist, Titahot has a lot o

Saeed kamalu Bako Family as an agent of socialization has helped a lot in nurturing better wives for there Husbands but has also failed mostly in creating better husbands in our society. Family attached too much importance in bringing up better wife than a Husband. You will here things like " gwara ki koya girki Dan gidan wani zaki" , " haka zakiyi in kinje gidan mutane ko" , " kefa uwar wasu ce nan bada dadewa ba" the parents must especially mother try by all means to teach her on how to be good , forgetting that she has a boy that will one day equally turn to be a husband. Why won't she then taught him how he can handle someone's daughter?  Culture make it to be the responsibility of the father, what then do you expect from someone who was not taught on how to do it to teach someone how to do it?  Why should I talk on this ? Through out the week i heard cases that has to do with domestic violence but most of them were the fault of the Husbands .

Saeed kamalu Bako Hackers are every where crawling the net, following every social media to hack people's account. Yours is not exceptional. To protect you WhatsApp account you need to create a 'two step verification code'.  You may ask of how to create this. The process is as follows: 1) click the options button at the top right hand of your screen when you log in your WhatsApp account. 2) click settings 3)click account 4) click two step verification 5) click enable at the button  6) enter your unique six digit PIN , the one you can easily remember. 7) confirm your six digit PIN 8) enter your email address. 9) confirm email address After following the above steps, your account has been protected and can only be access by your alone.

By Saeed kamalu Bako Below us is aggression above us is oppression below the low is temptation above the top is mutilation. We live in a den with lions  where humans eat humans it seems to be in a nest with no egg but feathers of different colours. We are here and yet still there they search us where we are not but we saw them when they arrived. We've seen us while we were away but still in us is we fully aware of the death tomorrow and yesterday is for them today is ours and we chose to live it for good.

By Saeed Kamalu Bako I am the 21st century journalist I want to write with my heart not my hands I want to write with my heart not my brain For heart can be sympathetic And my hands could be influenced by subjectivity My brain could be influenced by pride. I want to write in a stream of consciousness My pen to put down a policy inclusive The piece will then touch all and not faulty Let me  proffer solution to all I see which is a menace Let me be the mouthpiece of the voiceless. They call me journalist of the 21st century That who is known for lies and subjectivity The harbinger of fake news so they named me With me they feel unsecured and unprotected. Is this me? So I asked uncountably I, I mean we are much more than a ready to change the narrative We will shape the  narrative that will change the media That media which at the end will change minds and then change the society And then freedom of speech will precede the well being of my hearthstone. I pledge to be the bringer of good n

  Faizu Idris Ibrahim Ramadan being the ninth month of the Islamic Calendar, Allah commanded Muslim world over to fast from its commencement to an end. This annual rite is regarded as one of the pillars of Islam.  Allah says in the Qur’an: “O you who believed, decreed upon you is fasting as it was decreed upon those before you that you may become righteous."  The prophet Muhammad (S.A.W.) said:  “Islam has been built on five [pillars]: testifying that there is no god but Allah and that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah, performing the prayers, paying the Zakat, making pilgrimage to the House, and fasting in Ramadan.”  Thus, fasting in the month of Ramadan is an obligatory act of worship upon all Muslims men and women as required by the above Qur'anic verse and Hadith. When is Ramadan commence? Ramadan commences with the sight of new crescent by one or more trustworthy Muslims or after compilation of thirty days of the month of Sha'aban as  Aisha, the mother of believers N

 Was that the era of psyche reorientation? The past was my era of uncertain promiscuity Asking question on who was she  And when will she come to the fore? Was there something fishy when I shunned that fantasy? I saw myself in a Bermuda triangle, Protected by tri giant walls Behind those giant walls lies the ice princess I felt like dancing into the atmosphere Where I can get courage from the Angels  The ones i perceived they can be of help. Was it the theory of magic or luck?  So I asked myself. When I approached her I asked of my timidity Which seemed bio ethical. I feel like dancing into the atmosphere But still I made the man in me And recalled that everything is fair in love and war. The wind echoed her voice With it right hand  My ears was no longer in a vacuum state As it breaks the shield between me and my dream She was the star in my dream But I couldn't figure out the presence of a tale as in those dreams  So I named it my era of romance. Surrounding us was a four corner

We are the Zamfarans The one of the north western Nigeria Establishment of the 11th century We own the Yandoto city, once a home to Bin Fodio We are the state created by sani Abacha We are the creation of 1996 and decendant of the Caliphate The home of Hausa, Fulani and Gobirawa The ones who shares border with Niger, Kaduna, Katsina and Sokoto. We are the Zamfarans The ones who hold farming as our pride We mine Gold which is also precious We are the ones who live at the tropical Area of my Home We farm cereals and Legume They named us home of Sharia We are the Zamfarans who also speak French English and Fulfulde. BUT We become the Zamfarans whose pride has been taken Replaced with kidnapping , Banditry and killings It is now a daily counting figures of lives lost Not of farm products which we happily count. We are the Zamfarans who are gruesomely uprooted from our home Ours is now an Emirate where threat of monumental loss runs through We become the Zamfarans whose women and kids will

If I were poetry, I will live my life to infinity For they named me food for the soul But the food who only feed the satisfied For an empty stomach value me not. If I were you, the isolation will be the source of my soul purification For I was caged in chains of loneliness  But technology exposes me to the world the more For it makes me survive in the global village. If I were world, I will eliminate the heartless  For the poor to have peace of mind But I will leave the history for the future to benefit For I changed not, my inhabitants does. If I were love, I will live my life twice For I put smiles in the minds of the vulnerable But never will I multiply for the wicked For they misuse me hypocritically. If I were culture, I will never infiltrate another For I will eliminate my kinds But will create unity in Diversity For they can't live without one another. If I were development, I will live sustainably  For only me can touch the downtrodden But will never open ways for bad leade