Category Archives: books and things that matter
There is a dark plot among the cabals to eliminate the President of the country. Unknown to them, it was being recorded by the hotel’s CCTV camera.
Kaingchat, fresh graduate and a girlfriend of a journalist, Sunny, is approached by Kola a Colleague in the hotel. He has a Big Story for Sunny. Kola is killed. Sunny is killed. Kiangchat runs to the SSS for help. Then a terrorist group attacks the SSS headquarters and several cadets are killed.
Doris Malgwi’s The Crippled Eagle comes at a very important time when the country battles with corruption in the corridors of power, insecurity and other disasters in the world. It is a must read crime thriller for every one.
Available at selected bookshops and supermarkets nationwide. For direct orders and bulk purchases, please call Dayo 07018073343
Peppered Rice Take Away (PRTA) is a fast growing food delivery service network with four outlets in Ibadan. We are presently recruiting into the following positions:
1. Marketing and Customer care representatives
2. Delivery personnel
3. Outlet managers
4. Kitchen staff
Basic qualification required is the SSCE. Additional qualifications will be of advantage.
Applicants must also be able to efficiently use the English language.
Integrity, good people relations, drive, and a positive attitude are also required.
All applications should be handwritten and submitted with CV to Peppered Rice, Preboye’s world, Agbowo, Ibadan. For enquiries 08066326529 .
Ife Solomon, BookRepublic columnist, is the C.E.O of Peppered Rice.
Emotion Press is a Publishing/PR outfit established in the year 2011 to publish young writers. Ever since then, the Ibadan based firm has published Rasaq Malik, Lucius Ndimele, and of recent, Emmanuel Ohi and Oluwafemi Oloidi.
We strongly believe the future is the young but promising men and women seeking for genuine platforms to be projected.
The firm is presently seeking for young professionals between the ages of 22 to 30 willing to take up the following positions;
– Editorial Assistant
– Business Relations Officer
– Sales Officer
The Business Relations Officer will be responsible for the general business relations of the company as directed by the Chief Operating officer. Young professionals that have a history of exceeding performance goals, are determined, have high energy and most importantly, a team player are eligible for this position.
– Bachelor’s degree in any field with at least two years of sales experience
– Intermediate proficiency with Microsoft office
-Good communication skills
The Editorial Assistant will work hand in hand with The Senior editor in the editorial unit of the firm. Young professionals that have a history of exceeding performance goals, good language skills, are persistent, have high energy and most importantly, a team player are eligible for this position.
– Bachelor’s degree in the Arts field
– Excellent use of the English language
– Ability to critically analyze a creative work
– Intermediate proficiency with Microsoft office
-Good communication skills
The Sales Officer will responsible for the day to day sales and marketing of the company’s products. Young professionals that have a history of exceeding performance goals, are persistent, have high energy and most importantly, a team player are eligible for this position.
– Bachelor’s degree in any field with at least two years of sales experience
– Intermediate proficiency with Microsoft office
-Passionate about reading and selling books
-Good communication skills
Please kindly submit a cover letter and CV addressed to the Chief Operating Officer, Emotion Press: firstname.lastname@example.org. Please copy: email@example.com.
Endeavour to make the subject of the mail: Work with Emotion Press
The year 2013 has been an eventful and fruitful year for Nigeria‘s book Industry. From book festivals to literary competitions, the literature industry has had her fill of activities from January to November.
Writers, Nigerian writers, were all in action – are we to talk of the Caine Prize 2013 in which saw Nigerian-American Tope Folarin finally emerge as winner or the Commonwealth Writers Prize in which E.E Sule’s Sterile Sky, a story set in the midst of killings in Northern Nigeria, ecame out as winner in the African region?
It is not a prophecy, but a fact based on our usual projections. We are hopeful that so many younger writers in Nigeria are going to emerge from their literary cubicle and take the baton from the older writers.
Some of the writers we are listing here are familiar names, though quite a number are fresh in the circle.
Elizabeth Winniran is a native of Oyo State and was raised in a Christian family of seven. She is the first of five daughters.
Popularly called Lizzy, a short form of Elizabeth, by her close pals, Lizzy is a finalist of the Department of English, University of Ibadan, Ibadan. A while ago, she had a two-month voluntary service with FRCN (Premier FM).
She presently writes for an online magazine, Book Republic – http://www.bukrepublik.com. Lizzy cherishes the act of listening, as this prevents her from having a myopic perspective about particular issues. One of her hobbies is motivating people the best way she can. Lizzy Winniran believes that the best that is yet to be discovered is in YOU, and all you have got to do is search it out.
Read her thoughts on comportment here http://www.bukrepublik.com/frontend/s/p.php?id=pst_j0gb0nyotq
Busayo, a light skinned heavily breasted lady, packed into the room next to mine at a very strange time. She was dripping wet; her two leather bags clung to her hands.
The rain of August in Ibadan is not one to be joked with. It trots and tramples on lands, causing erosion, and breaks into softly nailed roofs giving those domiciled in the uncompleted building a thorough bath.
University of Ibadan had just resumed from a long vacation caused by incessant ASUU and NASU strike actions and students, some of us, had resorted to face me I face you apartments scattered all over Agbowo. I was one.
‘Are you a fresher?’ I asked Busayo, as I helped her with one of her luggage. She looked at me and shook her head here and there.
‘Oh. Sorry. Thought you were fresh,’ that was how the words snailed out of my mouth.
‘I am in my second year. You?’ she asked, as her left hand softly wipes her face.
‘I am a finalist.’
‘Seriously? What are you doing here? You should be in the hostel. D block.’I chuckled and sat on one of the two wooden chairs in her one wooden window room and uttered, ‘You know all those politics, now? I can’t lick the ass of somebody because of one tiny room. I am not complaining here, jare.’
Silence stood between us for some seconds. She was standing opposite where I sat, the rays of the sun that comes after the August rain glittering on the clothed mounds on her chest.
‘Why are you staring in that kind of manner?’ she said, puts on a smile, strained, and sits on my armchair.
‘What is the name?’ I asked her
‘Busayo,’ she replied and stands to take a walk around her new room.’
‘I am Akin. Are you sleeping here today?’
‘Depends. I am not even here with my mattress.’
I walked towards the window and smelt the fresh icy air. The rain has started again, this time less aggressive.
‘You may use my umbrella, when you are ready to go.’
‘Okay. Thanks. For the hospatility,’ Busayo said and sees me off to the door.
BEFORE THE RAIN
It was one of those evenings in November, ushering the second semester examination. Hours ago, I had left Blessing in Kenneth Dike Library.
‘Are you fucking Blessing?’ Ola, my friend since hundred levels, once challenged me.
‘Don’t be raw, Ola. I and Blessing? We are just friends, jare.’
AFTER THE RAIN
Busayo, the girl next door to mine, popped up the same question after her usual looking through my window and sitting her buttocks on my armchair, I kept mute for some seconds.
‘I don’t trust you guys. A girl sleeps over in your place and goes the next day with her thighs as dry as before? Unimaginable.’
‘You know I am a seminarian?’
‘Don’t give me thatbullshit, boy. A seminarian studying Economics, when Religious studies and Philosophy are next door?’
I laughed out loud, from the depth of my stomach, and drew my eyes towards her chest. She caught my glance and shook her head here and there.
‘I am going to my hole,’ she said and walks towards the door, but stops halfway and utters, ‘Are you impotent?’
Emotion Press, Ibadan : Call For Manuscripts For Publication In February/March Season
How It All Started?
Emotion Press was established in the year 2011 to project young budding writers. With its two debut, The Grasshopper Race and The Man In The Moon, the publishing house is indeed strongly bent on a great literary mission.
Call For Manuscripts
After the editorial board meeting that held on the 5th of December, 2012, the management has hereby decided to call for manuscripts from budding Nigerian writers, who are willing to publish their manuscripts for a reasonable publishing charge.
The Genres We Publish
Prose – Submit up to three chapters of your prose work, alongside a short bio and publishing budget.
Poetry – Submit up to twenty pages of your poetry collection, alongside a short bio and your publishing budget.
Creative Non-fiction – [Diary, Memoir and Collection of essays] submit up to twenty pages of your creative Non-fictional work, alongside a short bio and your publishing budget.
Note: Please give us three weeks to receive a reply to your query.
Submissions: All submissions should be made to Omojojolo@gmail.com. Follow us on Facebook @emotionpress.
About The Book
When the boy and his friends, Ibeze, Shina, and Simbi runs playfully after a Grasshopper and it leads them to a land of the unknown, a land never plied for hundred years, their white teacher, Reverend Father Green Bottle, goes after them and realizes it is a trap. A trap predestined for many years.
The Grasshopper Race is the first book of Folarin Olaniyi, the Editor of Book Republic. The long book is published by Emotion Press, Ibadan.
To order for a copy of the book, mail Omojojolo@gmail.com. A copy of the book goes for N500 0nly.
Book: The Tongues of a Shattered S-k-y
Publisher: Blackgraphics Book
Author: Tosin Gbogi
Reviewer: Rasaq Malik Gbolahan
Pages: 102 pages
First published: 2012
REVIEW – THE TONGUES OF A SHATTERED S-k-y BY TOSIN GBOGI.
JOURNEY TO NAY-TION OF REGAL -GIN
Apart from I am memory, a poetry collection by Jumoke Verissimo and Night of My Flight by Akeem Lasisi, Tosin Gbogi’s The Tongues of a Shattered S-k-y is another magnificent collection that extremely talks on “airegin” – “the nay-tion of regal gin”, the other way Gbogi re-constructs “Nigeria”, he alienates her, her life swindling, burning in the charcoal of broken memories of unseen pasts. Tongue of the shattered sky is poignantly written with great diction, each word hammering heavily on pains, agonies, desolate hearts of destitute, mourning a country filled with crying children, miscarriages of pregnancies and how history keeps repeating itself, how the same political “truants” keep staying at the upper seats and hunger-stricken masses are down waiting for hazy future. What a nay-tion of regal gin, intoxicant that perturbs the brains of our leaders, a nay-tion where bombs are play things, a nay-tion where robbers are friends of the citizen, a nay-tion where policemen are mid-night hunters, gunning down young minds because of money, a nay-tion where lies and truths reach compromise to withdraw the already burnt glories, ashes of loss still spread at the village square, on the streets. The readers can perceive it in Gbogi’s collection.
Divided into four parts, with each title turning obstinate ears to the speeches of looters and sassing the commands of those thieves at the feet of the fallen mountain, Gbogi critically talks about the sociopolitical vices and religious shenaniganism that plagues our regal-gin nay-tion.
The collection opens with “when the sun reaches orgasm, even the iron-coatedtortoise will sweat”as the prologue to first part.
The title of the poem that opens this section messages us the doom that awaits the blind Moses that keep sailing our already drowning ship. Gbogi refuses to be silenced. Starting from “the pledge next time (pg 18)” that opens the collection, something like promises, taking oaths to our so-called “airegin”, the one Gbogi mocks with his lines, he lampoons the leaders, the unpatriotic kinsmen. Gbogi puts on the attire of a warrior who is embarking on a dreadful adventure and who does not fear the consequences, in as much as his aims: to fight for the suffering masses and to chase away the cloudy hands writing our unseen future are realized.
I pledge to airegin my nay-tion/To be criminal, crooked and cun(t)ny/To rule this nation with/fire and force-/Do-or-die-/To be obdurate, desperate and hark-urate/god can hear if he cares.[ pg. ‘
It’s very dazzling the way he chooses his diction. He goes on to the next poems with a heart strikes with hate and pains but now at the verge of revenging. In another poem under this section titled “animal talks” (pg.21) which discusses the way, manner and method of electioneering in Nigeria, he stresses the way the so-called leaders organize elections, their “own” elections because they aren’t being mandated by our votes but with the help of their “god-fathers”; those who are stooges to the godfathers.
I know how ballot boxes are built/I award the contracts
I know how ballot papers are packed/I know my printers
I know “ewu” that grows on inec head/I appoint him … ewu” means grey-hairs. (Pg.22)
It goes on to admonishcitizenry to think of how to revive the soul of the nay-tion of “regal-gin”, the “degrading status” of our own “airegin” in the next poem titled “think of what you can do for airegin” (pg.23) .
Think townspeople/think com-patriots/think patriots
Think of how to build bridges with bamboo brooms/
Think of how to shame nepa with oguso lamps (Pg 23)
In another poem, “I am a beast”, comes out with a distinct voice that terrifies because of the way he describes the cruelty, massacres on the land of his birth, nay-tion of regal-gin. Gbogi’s voice in this poem symbolizes failing hopes. He is like someone who has been maimed, scourged by unseen whips, unseen hands, pierced by unseen arrows but now seeking revenge but in the hard way. He becomes fiery and it’s dangerous to dare him.
“I am a beast/Night shivers when I prance/I ate the placenta of death/I didn’t die/I chewed the memory of pain/I forgot the affricate of joy (pg. 31).
Pains already crawling in the hearts of many people; the readers are able to feel the agonies in these lines.
I eat the umbilical cords of newborn babies/they die before their first faint cries/what can their mothers do/than rile and buzz to every ear that cares to listen? (pg. 32)
The collection moves to the section of the poem titled “my command” (pg. 37) under which he paints how those vision less leaders promise to re-build “airegin’ within three terms, three terms of spending lavishly, catering for the needs of their families, sending them on tours to different countries, riding on limousine and leaving the poor masses alone to suffer. They are to carry the burdens of our wrecked histories under disgrace-full leaders.
To demolish this temple/and raise it in three days/to destroy this land/and re-build it within three terms (pg. 37).
This is in reference to our fake forecasters, meteorologists.
Another poem titled “I rule this country” (pg. 39) shows the high level of social decadence in the so-called airegin, nay-tion of regal-gin, extortion of money from masses by our religious leaders who parade the streets, asking for money from masses in order to appease God on their behalf. This even shows that not only the governments are involved in these dastardly acts; even the supposed purest in heart, spiritually inclined beings are also guilty of these sins.
I am the commander-in-thief/of the armed robbers/of the federal republic of airegin-regal-gin (pg.39)
Beware of those churches/where pastors confuse Agege bread/for the sacramental host. Of those fellowships/where parsons miss-take regal-gin for communion wine (pg.39).
In the second part, which opens under the title “even silence, if pushed to the walls, will whisper,” Gbogi continues the struggle; he never relents in silencing the echoing voices that clamp our bones in the custody of pains, aches that mock our groins. For example, in the poem titled “in a land where” (pg 55), Gbogi shows the anti-climax way of how things are arranged in this airegin, regal-gin nay-tion. He shows us how believers become pagans, of how lawyers turn to liars, of how rulers become thieves…
Liars become lawyers/what help does justice have/than the drab wing and gown/
Harlots become nurses/what healing is there for paying tithes (pg. 55)
Gbogi won’t stop bringing out pains in the other poems in this part and believe me, “I rose from a gutter of groans”(pg.60), a poem written after martin carter’s “icome from the nigger yard” brings in another identity of how this nay-tion turns to a nation of looters, of infants crying in the bellies of their mothers, of pains riding on the skulls of memories, Gbogi voices out that he wasn’t born with scars, we weren’t birthed, too with scars but we must adapt to it as we bear it in the course of our sojourning this wreaking nation, we get it from the passages of our gunned dreams.
I was not born with a scar on my soul/the world made it so/
I was not born with chains on my wrists/ footmarks of greed ordered-re the lines on my palms (pg. 60)
Now he goes again,
I rose from a gutter of groans/from the forge of firewood flames/and the streets filled with the groans of begging urchins (pg.60).
“Nothing compares with the emperor’s love (pg 63)” is another poem that won’t go without showing us other inconsistencies, crocodile promises of our so-called leaders. They that cure pains with prison threat, they cure madness with spitting out saliva, they search for darkness instead of moon, and they show us the future with scars of bullets on the sky’s surface. Gbogi tries to mock their senseless way of ruling, their crocodile love to us, how they intentionally wish us hell with warmth-water, they speak of visions but with blind eyes
“the emperor loves you/he gives us the promise of darkness/but with the assurance of a dead moon (Pg. 63).
The next part, part III, opens under the title “I may forget yesterday only if today fails to bring me the memo-ries of it.”Gbogi continues the“war”, his adventure to the land of “loot-ers”. “I am an ambulant minstrel” laments painfully on the uncertainty of dreams, of un-gathered hopes, of a minstrel with lost flute.
I sing of a demotic bar and parlour/of a quotidian pub and club (pg.70)
He moves on to
I sing of the dark/daffodils of death/dropped at every door (pg .70)
And to the end
I am an ambulant minstrel/I sing of gumption-less goons (pg. 70)
He continues with this song of battlements and bafflements throughout the poems in this part, in the poem“the undertakers” (pg 71)
“Morticians dancing with the casket of our dreams/throwing javelin of dis-cord into the perimeter of our peace/
“Rage on the street” (pg.73) is another poem that recounts the battered memories of the past, of past occurrences which still aches in the heart of the poetic persona.
Still on the same track of fighting for real-ized dreams and not hazy dreams, the final part opens under the title “tyranny only keeps the pages of history busy, it conquers nothing.” Gbogi sets to inscribe smiles on the faces of mourning mothers, on the frowned faces of sickening fathers, on the cheeks of hustlers who parade the streets without jobs, on the faces of children without hope for fruitful future. The poet turns into a seer in the last part by assuring us all that the loot-ers, dreams-breakers, assassins, blind Moses will go one day, they will leave this world and we will all rejoice again in unity, in what we know as “true democracy” and not backdoor democracy”.
In the poem “I do not dream of stones”(pg.81) “in thisvision I see/sonorants of smile/distend the dim-ples of a dying land/In this vision I see/the long hands of laughter/paint everywhere/a galaxy of dancing dreams(pg.81). Also in the poem titled “when the journey ends”
“I will be there/waiting for that day/when all longer legs and arms/are cut to match size of ours/when all these titles/Grand criminal of fool’s republic/shall be repealed” (pg.93)
And to the next lines
flung into a big rubbish site/flung far into big junkyards/where lunatics can grab them/ and take them home (pg. 93). “Nothing lasts forever” (pg. 97) and the final poem under the last part
“You may not see what I see”
When I look farther/what I see is not blood but blissI see holes petalled with hopes/hidden by the enameled smiles/of alluring morrows (p.g 101)
This assures us of dreams coming true, not in our graves but before we die, before these eyes dine with clay. Before veins die in vain, before strugglers die in the pit of un-remembered dust-bins, before lamentations die off in the silent lips of mourners, dreams will come true, future is bright I believe; a consolatory end to battered hearts, tomorrow is there to feature…
Gbogi is a poet, a poet with words, words with weight. He masters the art, he knows how to speak for his own people through art, he believes changes will come, one day, one day I repeat, we await the dream of dawn coming true. Poems indeed, they make you want to read more even if you are a sadist, you won’t mind crying if you read how he paints these cruelties in airegin, nay-tion of regal gin with “striking images”.
However, Gbogi keeps on criticizing the government “a prominent theme” throughout the collection and this makes it boring to me at a point, at least he should have infused two or three poems ruminating on other themes. Nevertheless, this collection speaks directly to our minds.
A blog is a discussion or informational site published on the World wide web and consisting of discrete entries typically displayed in reverse chronological order. Until recently, blogs were the exclusive preserve of individuals passionate about expressing their feelings to friends and fans.
Nowadays, organizations like Media outlets and even the Food and cosmetics industry now own blogs dedicated towards interacting with their teeming fans.
One of the major advantages of a blog compared to a website is the administrator’s ability to interact with his growing fans and followers. The blogger armed with WordPress software and widgets, is able to actively inform his fans scattered around the World wide web.
November 2011, Emotion Press launched the Book Republic blog aimed at promoting the essence of literature in Nigeria.
The response has been massive, with the controversial interview with Richard Ali and the touching poem, ‘Death Calls’ by Omolola Sanusi.
But it is most pathetic that most individuals and organizations, still don’t know how essential owning a blog is to their brand.
Blogging can open doors and it can also barricade you from getting you voice known out there.
We understand blogging is not easy, most especially for busy people like writers, Doctors, Publishers, Lawyers, Teachers, Technicians and Journalists.
Let’s make things easy for you.
– Editorial Assistance
– Online and Offline Publicity [Bulk Sms, Social Networking and Fliers]
This offer is for the first twenty people to query us at Emotionpress2011@gmail.com or call 2348093728869
This is due to our inability to manage as many blogs as we want to. Please make the title of your mail: Blog For Me.