The Mind Builders

by Malik Ademola Sooner than he had expected, the stormy tides of life caught up with Mr Badmus. It started with the anticipated call about the change in management of African Petroleum Plc, which was bought over by the business tycoon Femi Otedola and subsequently changed the name from the initial to Forte Oil Plc. It proliferated when his tenure in office came to end and no allowance for re-election into office. He had to live by the two trucks he managed which brought him the daily needs of him and his family. Some things had to change for his source of income had been affected, and the effect of that was Utmost on Jamal. The beautiful evening that was about to get spoilt has its calmness at its peak, the one that couldn't seem to look gloomy afterwards, and whose breeze sang melodious song to the ears. Jamal was seated at the dining room devouring the meal his mother had prepared, which only happened once in every millennium. Did this instigate that the evening would be

Misconceptions About Islam (Episode 3): Are Muslims Terrorists? by Yusuff Ademola A. & Yusuf Olalere A. As Muslims, we’re tired of condemning terror attacks being carried out by innately aggressive people, who in no way represent the true essence of our religion; but have hijacked it for their own hidden, selfish political agenda. Every time an act of terror occurs, Muslims closely watch the news with excessive consternation praying that the suspect is not a Muslim. This is for no reason than in instances where they happen to be, we’d see amplified mass media coverage and extreme unjustified hostility towards Muslims. Based on this, misconception is an understatement. It is unfortunate that the so called mass media coverage have been unjust towards the Muslims. Ironically, the media which are seen as an extension of the freedom of expression and the eye opener for every reasonable member of the society without any iota of bias, have turned their 'legitimate' duty t

by Malik Ademola Lonesome and gruesome, the days would had been if the rule of not using a mobile phone was practicable at home, but that was only applicable at The Vale College. Christine had helped Jamal had a wonderful holiday, and a day wouldn't pass without the two talking over the telephone. The intimacy had grown stronger, so also the trust and confidence. Consequently, Jamal cared not about the wrongs at home again. And once again, though the wrongs were still very much feasible but his home seemed to him, a purgatory, or rather someplace far away from the usual inferno. Jamal had found a reason to live a happy life again. He had forgotten the trauma and thraldom of his broken home and had rather clung to the accolades and unprecedented ecstasies from Christine which had hastened his resuscitation. "Do you know I live in two worlds?" Jamal began when Christine sat with him at the veranda of the dorm during the siesta. They were supposed to be taking the nap

by Malik Ademola Despite the voice spoke loudly over the radio, there was still an embarrassing silence that hung over between the father and son. The normal chitchat had been replaced with silent soliloquy. The details of the last night incident was still afresh in his head, the response had left him perturbed since yesterday stretching through the night, till the moment he was behind the wheel driving Jamal to school. Jamal on the other hand felt exuberant and anxious to reach The Vale College. He had missed his friends, the gossips, breaking and mending the rules, and the lifeless but enjoyable hostel life, he grinned as he thought, perhaps that (the Vale College) was the only haven he had on earth. "how do we get through to you?" Mr Badmus had asked severing him from his thought.   "You can do that through the hostel master" Jamal replied, alighted from the car, his backpack held on one side and the luggage on the other and scooted towards the dormitory

by Malik Ademola Jamal retired to the balcony amid awaiting the call of his name when the food was done. It was a Sunday with a drizzling evening, with the rain having satiated the soil in the afternoon. Now the breeze had complemented the calmness of the evening and he had savoured it also. He sat on the cushion meditating, (that's if a deep thought about downturn of his life be regarded as meditation) but there was a lot to meditate about. He picked his jotter and pen and tried scribbling some words, aimed at finding solace putting pen to paper. But his mental state had gone beyond seeking solace by penning out his worries to a mere paper. Momentarily, he dropped the pen, rose up and motioned outside, taking a walk might gain him little relieve.   "Jamal!" his younger sister had called him, but thirty minutes later, there was no response. The family had finished taking their dinner except of course Jamal who had not returned from his walk.   The evening go