The Man Called Praise Fowowe: Another Icon to emulate...

Hello People,
How has been your day and the week too?  This week on our Personality Profile, we'll be sharing the profile of a dynamic man with a difference. A sexual recovery and training expert.
His name is Praise Fowowe. Happy reading!

Some call him PROF while others call him Mr. sexual recovery. His protégées call him coach while clients refer to him as a relationship enigma. But whatever you have chosen to call him one thing you are guaranteed of is every contact with him takes you to a new level of fulfillment in your relationships and lifestyles.

Praise Oladimeji Fowowe is a sexual recovery expert, family crisis manager, relationship coach, soar away columnist and one of the few specialists when it comes to relationship issues. A pioneer of high pedigree and a researcher reputed to be very original with insights that solve problems with ease. Praise believes that understanding oneself and others is the greatest key to successful relationships.

As a social worker Praise is the founder of the uncommon man network simply out to raise a sexually pure generation through the right values being taught on every street. The NGO which operates in Ajegunle at the moment is causing a revolution in the sexual behavior of the youths in that part of Lagos with Praise’s redefinition of sex, vagina, breast and others which has revolutionalized the mindset of the people. Till date Uncommon man network through her sexpurecentric project (a coinage of Praise) has planted 63 centers on 60 streets, 4 campuses where youths meet on a weekly basis to discuss their sexual challenges and the right values about sex is taught weekly. His philosophy when it comes to sex is “The only safe sex is sex in the marriage environment”. When men are faithful to their wives and young people are able to adequately control their bodies then sexual abuse would be reduced, homes will be settled and ultimately AIDS would die a natural death.

Uncommon Man Network has helped over 10 prostitutes out of prostitution in times past, given a sense of direction to several youths in Ajegunle through its weekly interactive meetings every Sunday evening which has grown to close to 400 youths.

Praise started the Uncommon Man Refinery (a 4 month human developmental training) for youths in Ajegunle and this has really helped a lot of youths rediscover themselves. Through its network of activities Uncommon Man Network has held seminars on various issues affecting the human sexuality.

In the line of duty...

Praise is also the host of the annual Sex2Sex conference and the Last Ajegunle virgin conference in Ajegunle

As a corporate Consultant Praise runs the Praise Fowowe Consulting having worked as one of the leading consultants at one of Nigeria’s leading consulting firm Visible Improvement in Performance(VIP consulting). He facilitates induction classes for some of the nation’s leading banks and consults for several other business organizations. In the words of the Human Resource Support Manager of UAC restaurants ‘Praise’s mastery of what he does is Indescribable, never have I see a young man hold his audience spell bound the way he does. Our people are better for it’

A passionate believer in the family setup. Praise believes what breaks most marriages is as simple as the word ignorance and he believes that once couples can master the platinum rule, love languages and the dream team formation then 60% of all marital problems are solved. According to him there is no reason for a divorce if couples have mastered the principle of death in marriage. He runs the YOU counseling services for couples and singles with troubled relationships.

A robust thinker and a believer in the Nigerian dream, Praise believes it took Japanese to develop Japan and Nigerians must become responsible for the development of the Nigerian of our dream. He teaches the dignity of the black race and believes that God never created a white man or a black man. All he created was a man which is void of colour. And that God is no respecter of persons but in every nation anyone that can connect to the awesome potentials that lies within irrespective of the colour elevated by Him.

The Accounting graduate who has authored hundreds of articles on sex and marriage relationships currently consults for a couple of families and writes for Saturday This Day and Encomium magazine among several others. His contribution towards the development of his generation have been well applauded as reflected in his being awarded the 2005 LEAP/NOKIA youth leadership award for the prevention of HIV(AIDS), the MEDIA CONCERN breaker of silence award for the prevention of child sexual abuse, LIFEWAY magazines award on youth empowerment.

An astute writer with 3 classic books to his credit and a lot of titles on cds and tapes. Praise travels speaking and seminars and conferences and his delivery is unbelievably bigger and way ahead of his age and physique. His coaching sessions are inspiring, informative, transforming, very practicable and down to earth.

A detribalized Nigerian with absolute tolerance for people as long as they are human beings. Praise is a Christian with a difference as he believes that you as a person is the Jesus that people must first come in contact with before they meet the Jesus of the Bible hence our life must speak more than our mouth.

He is a dynamic young man with an unusual grace for changing lives. As far as he is concerned we all deserve to be happy especially in our lives and relationships. His ultimate goal is to build the world’s most desirable marriages, raise a sexually pure generation and to plant the sexpurecentric friendship centers on every street where the right values about sex are taught from generation to generation.

Praise is happily married to the greatest woman to have walked the planet earth Oluwatosin Adewumi. He lives in Lagos Nigeria and travels strengthening relationships.

The Beautiful Heart

A young man once came out in the village square to make boast of something. In not too far a distance was an old man, revitalizing himself under the scorching ray of the sun. This young man in the village square started out the scene, boasting of having the most beautiful HEART around. With keen interest the villagers watched as this young man displayed his unwrinkled and scar-free HEART. With the aim of debunking the young man's claim, the old man stood up and started towards the village square. To everyone's suprise, the old man claimed to have the most beautiful heart around. People were suprised to hear an old man close to his grave put forward such claim. The man went ahead to show them his wrinkled heart, full of scars. Emotions were already running, then he said " the scars you see represents those times i've done good unto people, wipe tears from their eyes, show them love, gave them shoulder to lean on and all sorts. I tore out the flesh of my heart for them, but they never turn it back. Instead they broke my heart. The wrinkles you see represents the numbers of years i've been doing this, and i've refused to retire 'cos more men still needs my heart. The beauty of your heart lies in scars and the wrinkles". So young man, do you now see you have no beautiful heart yet. The young man broke into tears, the villager dispersed, while the old man relapsed into his seat. Hmn... nice and touching story you say. But i ask, how beatiful is your heart?

With Love,

Alamu Samson.

Mma

“Ahhhhchooo!…” “Sorry Sir” “thank you madam…”
Chief Onazi said wiping the dirt in his nose with an handkerchief.
“So, like I was saying madam, there is no need begging this issue; my proposition is yours to accept or reject! Life is all about give and take you know; you use what you have to get what you want!”
“Chief abeg, have mercy on me; I know you can do this without…” Chief Onazi cuts her… “So, madam, see me when you are ready to do my bidding…”
Chief dropped walking towards the upper terrace of the massive duplex. Mrs Ilori finally left her kneeling position, and went home in tears. What an unfair world; the rich covet the life of the poor…

Later that night…
Mrs Ilori was sitting on one of the worn-out chairs that had adorned their living room for a decade plus; weighed down apparently, she was deeply in thought over Chief Onazi’s bait. She was lost in it that she did not even notice her son entered the house…
“Iya e…” Bodunde said jokingly. He was shocked to discover his mother didn’t even notice his presence. With an anger of concern he tapped…
“Iya Bodunde, kilode, what are you thinking about? You did not even noticed my arrival. I’ve told you I don’t like seeing you in this mood…”
Bodunde was so angry that he didn’t notice his mother crying until she sobs…
“Iya Bodunde, why are you crying?” now sitting beside his mother, Bodunde curdled her.
“Bodunde, I wish all of this would end so soon. Life has not been friendly to me at all. I mean since your father’s death, things has not been easy at all. I was at Chief Onazi’s place today to seek for help…”
“you mean my dad’s business partner?” “Yes. I couldn’t believe my ears when he made a proposition to me…” Mrs Ilori started sounding quite emotional.
“You mean he’s attaching a condition to the help he’ll offer? What has this world turned to; okay, what kind of proposition?” Bodunde was noticeably angry in his conversation…
“hmm… my son, let’s forget about that and concentrate on what we have at hand. How’s your project, and preparation for your final papers?”
“My exams are still 2 months plus from now; as for my project, I’m through with everything except typing, printing and binding…”
“What about your friends that borrowed you money for school fee, hope they are not troubling you already?” Mrs Ilori asked. “ha… they are o. that’s why I even came, but I think they’ll still have to wait. It’s just that everybody needs money, but never mind. I’ll go back to school tomorrow morning, and hope a miracle will happen”
Bodunde pats her mother on the back, and headed towards his room. The house was unusually calm that night. Hmm… one wishes life could be a little bit fair.

The following day at Chief Onazi’s house…
Mrs Ilori was busy feeding on the new art works that graced the living room when Chief appeared…
“Oh… Mrs Ilori, so you are the one looking for me…” Mrs Ilori did not allow Chief finish his statement before she cuts him…
“Chief, I’ve agreed to your proposal. I need the money so badly, my son is…” “Madam, save me that. Let’s meet in my office tomorrow, and we’ll set at it from there.” “What about your wife sir?” “never mind. She is still at the hospital. Just go home; we’ll see tomorrow…”
Chief Onazi called for one of his maids, while Mrs Ilori closed the door behind her.

Two weeks later…

Mrs Ilori waited curiously in the car, thinking why it took Chief Onazi so long to come out of the banking hall. The anxiety on her face was just about taking a new turn when Chief emerged from the security door. She manage to smile as the security man bided Chief bye with a salute. Few seconds later, Onazi was in the car…
“So, this is it…” he hands over a bag to her… “you have a million naira in there. Now that I’ve fulfilled my own part of the whole thing, I guess we can move on?” Mrs Ilori nodded yes as Chief ignited the car and drove out of the bank premises.

Later in the evening…

Mrs Ilori was inside the kitchen preparing something. She was expecting Bodunde as she’s called him after leaving the bank in the afternoon. She was almost done when she heard her phone ring. She picked the call, and was shell-shocked at what she heard. The caller told her to report at the hospital immediately, as Bodunde lays hopeless at the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital…
“I just spoke with him this afternoon…” Mrs Ilori said as she scrambled for her head gear and dashed out of the house.

At the hospital…
Mrs Ilori was running out of patience; she’s been in the doctor’s office for 20 minutes. She was about standing up from her seat when the doctor came in…
“Yes… Mrs Ilori I guess?”
“Yes Sir. Doctor, how’s my son? What exactly happened?”
Doctor drew his swivel chair closer, and sat at the edge of the table…
“Madam, I’ll advice you calm down, and listen to me. Your son was caught in a shoot-out between a group of armed robbers and the police; he had 8 bullets in his body spread across his thigh and both arms, with the right side of his belly…”
“yeeeee…” Mrs Ilori screamed.
“Madam, calm down. As I was saying, we’ve managed to remove 7 bullets, remaining the one in his belly. But as it is right now, he’s lost too much blood and we can’t remove the last bullet until we replace the blood he’s lost else we lose him…” After some few more minutes of discussion, Mrs Ilori was led into the Lab to donate blood for her son. The NPF had agreed to foot Bodunde’s hospital bill.



5 hours later…   
 
Two doctors were busy shouting at each other… unknowing to them, Mrs Ilori was never in the position to donate blood as she’s just recovering from a kidney transfer operation. She passed out few minutes after donating the blood, and she’s joined her son at the ICU.
“You had better pray she’ll not die from this. Your career is on the line you know…” Bodunde’s doctor slammed the door on Mrs Ilori’s doctor.

2 weeks ago, Mrs Ilori had sold one of her kidney to Chief Onazi, whose wife needed a kidney transplant to stay alive. She had intended using the proceeds to offset Bodunde’s immediate and future bills. Bodunde is her only child, and she couldn’t stand watch him suffer the fate of a bleak future.     

2 weeks later…  
 
Mrs Ilori was sitting beside Bodunde’s bed in his ward room, while the two doctors stood aside watching. She clutched to Bodunde’s palm weeping; she was at this when one of the doctors broke the mood…
“Madam, you don’t need this. Let’s just thank God we have your son, and even you yourself. I mean, that’s a miraculous fit we should all relish…”
Mrs Ilori signalled the two doctors not to tell Bodunde her story.
“Anyway, Madam, we should discharge your son in the next three weeks…”
Bodunde’s doctor patted Mrs Ilori on the back as both doctors left the room.

The End.              

What a blessing, God giving us all mothers; epitome of sacrifice. Mma is an Ibibio word for mother; I fell in love with the word during my Youth Service in Akwa-Ibom. I dedicate this story to my mother, who’s celebrating her birthday today. She’s lived all her life for me. Even when nobody’s willing to accept anything good can come out of me, she’s solidly stood by my dream. Many loved me for the brilliance they’ve seen, she did even when there’s no brilliance on display. Today is my own World Mother’s Day for she came on this day. While I celebrate her, I equally celebrate and dedicate this story as well to all women of virtue out there. Your reward starts from here on earth. D.J! Play me ASA: E bami kira fun mama mi, orisa bi Iya o, kosi laye nbi; oya, lalalalalalaaala… I love you mum.  


With Love,
Alamu Samson.                                                               

The Quest.

“…hello young man, what do you think you’re doing?” “How do you mean Sir?” Tunde probed his boss. “ I got your resignation letter this morning, and I kind of wonder what the hell is wrong with you. I mean…” Tunde’s boss sounded piqued. “…Sir, I wish I could explain this better, but I can’t seem to find the right word to do so. But trust me, I’ve counted the cost, and…” “young man…” Tunde’s boss cuts in “… I really think we shouldn’t be discussing this. You still have a month to go, so I’ll see you then. In the mean time, let me have a report on the story you are doing” “okay Sir.” Tunde said closing the door behind him.

The story that afternoon was not the news on the street, but the news in the newsroom. Tunde is one of their few die-hard journalist, so everybody was taken aback that he’s leaving them in a month time.

Later that night…

Tunde’s dad was busy at the living room with a copy of the punch line newspaper, with a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He whiled away time awaiting Tunde’s arrival. He was already dozing off when Tunde came in…

“Dad, why don’t you go into your bedroom…” “oh, you are back. I’m actually waiting for you, we need to talk.” “So what is it all about?” Tunde said taking his seat beside the old man. “It’s about your job. I learnt you are quitting…” the old man waited for response but it wasn’t coming. “You wouldn’t talk to me. You know what? I don’t seem to be getting this right; I mean…you are one of the best in this job, and what more, the job is quite rewarding. Take a good look at what you’ve achieved in just 2 years on the job!” “that is it dad. There you go again…” Tunde snapped. “This is fake, this is you, this isn’t me! Does it not bother you that I’ve lived all my live living your ambition? You’ve never for once asked what I wanted for my-se-l-f. I think I hate it here…” Tunde snarled as his dad watched him disappear into the staircase. The night was so quiet in the house as even the cockroaches around could feel the mood.

A month later…

The last couple of weeks has been really eventful; hopes are high everywhere: Tunde’s boss expects a change of decision, ditto for hid dad and colleagues. Giving more hope to their hope was another memorable event; Tunde has just picked up an award - Best Reporter, Investigative Journalism - in the Professor Lambert’s annual award for journalism excellence. No surprise, he was thoroughly shaped by his dad, a doyen of journalism. To them all, they thought this new success will influence his final stance.

It’s time for an in-house party in honour of Tunde’s achievement. The hall was filled to the last chair, with everybody awaiting Tunde’s speech, and then he mounted the podium…

“…first of all, I’d like to thank God. It’s all about Him. He made this possible. Also, I’d like to dedicate this award to my dad, it’s his award…” the audience thunders a clap as many turned to steal a look at Tunde’s dad, all wearing a smashing smile…

“…lastly, I’d like to dedicate this award to my colleagues, and my boss. You all made this possible. It’s my parting gift to you…” there was a sudden drop in the mood of all members of the audience. It finally dawn on them Tunde was serious. “…in the past one month I’ve had sleepless night trying to convince myself I want to do this. I can’t seem to find the right word to explain my decision to you all, but I can assure you this is good for me. While I take my leave, I implore you to be true to your self. Live your dream, your purpose, and not another man’s ambition ‘cos the pains of your dream soothes more than the joy of your fantasy. I love you all!”

Tunde obviously had dropped something as the hall was dead silence. His boss sounded quite incoherent in his closing remark. Tunde spent the next 10 minutes exchanging hug with an army of admirers. That was his last day at punch line communications.

Two weeks later…

It was 6:45pm in  Ikot Afanga, and the sky was already closing it’s face. The bees buzzed lazily around, while a few crickets began tuning up for their evening of song. Tunde’s bus stopped in front of Ette’s  store, the head of the youths in the community. Almost everybody turned around to see who will come out of the bus parked in front of Ette’s store; they were all shell shocked at what they saw, the youngest Corper to ever served in their village. While some were struggling to carry Tunde’s bag, some were struggling to carry him like victorious warrior. A few others who didn’t know him tried stealing a look as he took his seat beside the ludo board, the usual evening ritual at Ette’s shop. Back to base; Tunde spent some 10 months here 3 years ago doing his youth service. The village still hasn’t change; no electricity, no good road, no drinkable water, soldiers of biting insect, name any drawbacks. No regret anyway, this the new life Tunde would settle for.

“Ette, na wa o. So una still dey suffer like this for this village…” Tunde questioned as he tried to ward off mosquitoes from his delicate skin. “Corper, na so o. Abi wetin we go do? Man no die, man no rotten…” “wetin una go do ?” Tunde sounded amused, but continued his bantering… “where that una shameless man?” “which one?” Ette asked. “The one wey be deputy speaker for house of assembly; the man no fit do anything for this community?” “that one… no mind that one abeg…” Ette filled Tunde in on their present predicament in the village. They spent almost all the night catching up on old times. Tomorrow is Monday, struggle continues…

Monday morning at CSS, Ikot Afanga…

It’s another Monday morning, and the only spectacle usually on display in the community is the students’ exuberance. Lateness and indiscipline has been an issue of concern the school authority, and the community itself. Tunde decided to come see whether things has changed. his bike stopped in front of the school gate at about 9:15am, and students still roam the street, but immediately they saw Tunde they all took to their heels. Tunde came in company of Ette. Though the students are untouchables to their teachers, but Tunde was a pain in their butt during his service days. While the teachers were all wondering what’s chasing the running students, the students in the classes came out in droves to welcome their cane-wielding Corper. The Principal was not left out as she came out to see who’s responsible for the rowdiness that suddenly engulfed her school, and she was shocked to see Tunde who by now was moving towards her office to exchange pleasantries…

“Nma, emesiere - o…” “emesiere - nde…Tunde!” the principal curdled Tunde as they both exchanged pleasantries in Ibibio language… “so you never forget our language…go back to your class, stupid children…” the principal barked at the students as she led Tunde to the staff room. The school’s activities was paralysed that morning as the teaching staff spent the next one hour with Tunde in meeting. Tunde effortlessly explained his mission to them…

“…like I use to say then that I’d be back here one day, I’m back now; and I need your support to be able to finish my task within a year. Now, this is coming to you at no cost, I mean you wouldn’t have to pay me for this. It’s my own little contribution to the future of this community…” at the end of the meeting, the school appointed Tunde as the head of Corper’s service department, a post hitherto held by a teacher. He spent the break time with the students before leaving for his house. It was a busy day indeed for Tunde.

The next six month…

Armed with his laptop, internet modem, camcorder, bicycle, Ette, and two Corper’s Cds group namely MDGs and PETs, Tunde went half way with his mission in just six months. Starting from shooting a documentary film on the community, to writing proposals on the initiation and execution of fundamental projects in the community, Tunde never rested a bit. He became a major influence on the Corps members serving in the entire local government by providing them with ideas, and engineering their Cds projects to suit the fundamental needs of their host community. At the passing-out-parade of the batch B Corps members for that year, all the state award winners came from Tunde’s local government. This proved a big break for Tunde.

Dinner party, Government house…

The banquet hall was appreciably crowded, with all sorts of eatables on display. It’s the dinner in honour of state award winners, and the one man that’s wanted everywhere - Tunde. There were giggles and cackles everywhere in the hall as people engaged one another in tête-à-tête; soon the commissioner for youth, sports, and development interrupted the flow…

“So ladies and gentlemen, join me as we toast… to us, to them, and to our young man here…” the commissioner said pointing at Tunde. Soon, the governor himself started…

“You see, my boy, let me start by saying a big thank you to you. I must say I acknowledge and appreciate what you’ve been doing around here. And this will surprise you; I do get all the petitions and proposals you’ve been sending to my office, and while it seems I’m not bothered, I’ve actually been working on them. Let me give you a good news, we have signed contracts for the delivery of 15 primary health care centres, 200 borehole projects, rehabilitation of schools across the local government, and most importantly, the construction of all the access roads in in your local government. When I say signed, I mean signed and sealed, to be delivered in 8 months…” there was a thunderous applause in the hall as everybody gave kudos to the governor… “…and sorry, my governor forgot to add this: the electrification project has also been signed…” there was another thunderous applause for the governor. The night ended on a high note for everybody. For Tunde, it was the most fulfilling moment of his life, having his efforts rewarded in this manner; it doesn’t always come this easy. The state award winners were all given automatic employment, their first task being to assist Tunde in monitoring the delivery of the various projects awarded. Ikot Afanga was a bee hive of activities for the next 7 months. The students did crash job here and there, petty traders selling stuffs here and there, and the village youths all got one permanent job or the other at the various construction sites. Hmn… the dream of a man.

Somewhere in Lagos…

Mr and Mrs Olusola had just finished at the dinning when the network news started. Mr Olusola headed for the living room to listen…

“Good evening viewers, my name is Fatimah Abass Fatimah. Tonight on news at nine…” Mr Olusola watched on with keen interest as the news caster dolled out the news one after the other until it got to an item…

“Mama Tunde, come come come…” Mrs Olusola dashed to the living room to see what the interest is all about.

“… a 27 years old young man received national honour…” Tunde was one of the national award recipients for the year. He was nominated by the Akwa-Ibom state government for his efforts. The news caster rounded off…

“…he dedicated the award to his mother whom he said has always encouraged him to live his live to…” “…mo so ri re o, eleda mi mo dupe o…” Mrs Olusola didn’t bother to finish the news before she started dancing round the living room. Mr Olusola reconciled with his son that night over the phone, while both parent went to bed proud of their son. Hmn… how success attracts friends.

The End

I finished this story on the 18^th of March, 2011, but it started making more meaning to me after I had a life-threatening accident on the 20^th of March, 2011. One thing I said when I was going down was: “God, is this how I died,” and He said: ”No son, this is how I renewed your life and re-established your destiny.” Trust me, I’d have died a day to my birthday. This made me remember a sentiment I’ve always shared concerning birthday celebration; “it’s never a time for one to lose his head celebrating; it’s a time to ask the golden question: “why did God gave me another shot at life?” I’ve always reflected on the outgoing year to see whether I’ve only lived my ambition, or lived God’s purpose for my creation. Since I couldn’t parcel cakes and drinks across to you all, this is my birthday gift to you all.

Remember, every birthday you celebrate is another shot at life. God is only giving you another chance to live more conscious. I believe in you to fulfil destiny.

With Love,

Alamu Samson.

Joshua’s Mood

 

“D.O.P are you set?”

“yes we are rolling”

“okay. Scene 2 take 4, action!…”

The director sets the ball rolling as the entire production crew prepares to take the last shot. It’s been one month of sleepless night getting the production stage of the movie done with. The last three weeks has witnessed series of journey to three different states in the country, where different shots has to be taken. All that is soon to be over in 30minutes.

“Okay, it’s a wrap! We are done.”

There was an eruption of joyful noise in the camp as the director signalled the end of the production. Both members of cast and crew went into frenzy sharing hugs, claps, pat and the likes. It’s been a memorable time on the road. While everybody were busy expressing their joy, the director took a heavy sigh in view of the post-production stage.

“…so, I think we should all go for a 2weeks break, then we can hit the next stage. Or what do you think?” the director asked the d.o.p and the continuity man. “I think that would be okay. It’s nice idea” the d.o.p responded, with the continuity nodding. In 10minutes all the production vehicle left the location in quick succession. Home sweet home!

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“…Mr Pratt, I must be quite frank with you, this noble board is not in anyway impressed by your last production. May be I should remind you, when we agreed to fund this production, we had cost-effectiveness on our priority list. This is the fourth month of your production in the market, and nothing is looking like it”, Mr Collins, the head of the board, submitted expressing the investor’s disappointment. Mr Pratt seems to have been lambasted into submission by the board as justified by his remorseful look. He however muttered something… “Sir, I acknowledge the board’s dissatisfaction with the performance of the production so far, but then I think I still can justify your investment. All am asking for here is an ample time to do that. We should remember this project is a first in this country. They need time to get used to it!” “Anyway, Mr Pratt; the board has taken a decision. Give us result or we’ll renege on our 10 movie deal with you. Excuse us…” Mr Collins dropped the bombshell as the board walked out on Pratt. It feels like heaven should crumble as Pratt clutched on to his chair in anger and shame.

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Pratt bristled with rage at his daughter’s playfulness  at the dinning drawing concern from his wife… “darling! The little girl has done nothing, jeez… fine you had a terrible day at work, but must we feel and share that at home?! Come on, the world hasn’t ended you know?! The little girl sat mute with fear in her chair. “Come on baby, come play with daddy. Daddy is sorry…” Pratt clutched the child to himself, re-assuring her it will never happen again.

They resumed their meal and… “oh, by the way, where is Joshua?” Pratt asked. “oh, sorry I forgot to tell you, he’s gone to the studio, and he said he will be coming home late” “that’s okay. Meet me in the living room” Pratt said extending his hand to his daughter as he leaves for the T.V

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“Oh darling, sorry I forgot to tell you last night, this parcel came in from Germany yesterday…” Mrs Pratt thrust the parcel at her husband. “Oh, let’s see what this is all about… oh my God!” “what is it?” Mrs Pratt asked curiously. “An invitation. Invitation to attend Hamburg Film Festival 2010. It comes up in 2weeks!” Pratt planted a deep kiss on his wife in fancy of the good news. “our movie is up for award in two categories… Root movie of the year and soundtrack of the year award!” “that’s good news…” “you can say that again…” Pratt responded as he tries to put a call through to Mr Collins to intimate him with the new development…

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Hamburg, Germany, January 2011;

The event arena was packed full of cream-de-la-cream of the international movie industry, with the red carpet busier than bee hives. Pratt was making an appearance on the international scene for the first time, with his invitation been the first extended to an African. he was seated somewhere in the middle of the arena, clad in green native wear laced with cream coloured craft work. Sitting next to him was Miss Cynthia Isong, the representative of the board. Soon the programme was in session…

“…and the winner for the Root movie of the year category is…Lord Alfred by Bradley Huth from Austria!” a thunderous cheers and applause rented the air as Bradley mounted the stage to receive the award. One down, one to go for Pratt as he looked at Cynthia in disappointment.

The compere mounted the stage again to announce the winner of the soundtrack of the year award. It was Bradley against Pratt, and 2 others again. Unconsciously. Pratt clutched on to Cynthia’s palm as the compere announces…“and the winner for the soundtrack of the year category is…Ombudsman by Kenneth Pratt from Ni-ge-ri-a!” Pratt stood up clenching his fist in ecstasy, with Cynthia throwing her arms wide open for a congratulatory hug. Pratt rushed down to the stage to receive the award… Pratt collected the plaque sighing heavily, stealing a look at the plaque and smiling at the crowd… “I love you Hamburg, I love you Germany, I love everybody seated here, and those of you out there. I want to dedicate this award to you all; you made this possible. I equally dedicate it to my production cast and crew, but most importantly, I dedicate this to my son; Joshua Pratt. Every time I have a project to execute, he’ll say daddy you know I wish I’d completed my degree in theatre arts already, I’d have done this with you. But then, every time we are back from location, he’ll collect the work, watch it, feel the mood, and play around it with his keyboard. He does the soundtrack. That’s his widow’s might, and that has brought this…” he said raising up the plaque, while the arena erupted once more with applause and cheers. “I love you Nigeria, I love you Africa, I love you Joshua!” Pratt made for his seat, while everybody turned around to steal a look.

The next 2weeks was quite eventful. Ombudsman made it to the top of the chart, while Joshua kept on signing deals.

The End

   

I had you in mind when I was writing this. I mean I had us in mind. Many a times in live we wait until we can contribute it big. We forget about the widow’s might, which always means the most accepted and rewarding. This is 2011, but most importantly, the beginning of a new decade. A decade where little things will count a lot! You don’t want to wait until you can contribute it big. That time may never come! Do it now. It is small, but do it! Show that little love with a text message, don’t wait until you have the money for a trip to the Bahamas. You don’t have the money to support the community cause, but help paste the posters. Anything whatsoever, just contribute your widow’s might ‘cos that’s all the cause needs to succeed. It is small, but do it 'cos that little effort is meant for the red carpet!

With Love,

Alamu Samson