Voice of 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 ma...

  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.           ...

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"            Wil...

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 . ...