9 reasons to have sex that are better than burning calories

Sex may not actually burn calories, but that’s no reason to give up on it.
A report published on Jan. 31 in the New England Journal of Medicine debunked the notion that sex is a good way to burn calories. According to the Associated Press, researchers found that the only evidence supporting this claim was a study conducted on 10 men in 1984. This study found that sex lasted six minutes on average and burned only 21 calories.
Actual “sexercise,” as one New York Magazine writer found out the hard way, is difficult work. But just because your sex life doesn’t double as a workout routine doesn’t mean there are no benefits. In fact, there are plenty of excellent reasons to get it on.
1. It (hopefully) feels good!
If you know your body and are excited about the person you’re sleeping with, you’re bound to have a pretty great time. So go for it.
2. Even just thinking about sex is good for your brain.
In 2009, researcher Jens Förster found that individuals who were thinking about sex performed better in critical thinking tasks than those who were not.
3. It could help you live longer.
Duke Longitudinal Studies data, published in 1993, indicated that men who have sex more often tend to live longer, and women who claim to enjoy their sex lives live seven to eight years longer than those who are indifferent about their sex lives.
4. It can reduce pain.
Oxytocin, a hormone released during sex, is a natural painkiller. In 1985, sexologist Beverly Whipple found that, after orgasm, women’s “pain tolerance threshold and pain detection threshold increased significantly by 74.6 percent and 106.7 percent respectively.”
5. It decreases stress.
A study conducted by psychologist Stuart Brody in February 2006 found that people who had recently had sex had lower blood pressure in stressful situations than those who had not.
6. It keeps you looking young.
An August 2002 study conducted by David Weeks of the Royal Edinburgh Hospital found that couples who had sex three times a week or more looked 10 years younger than an average adult who has sex twice a week or less. Weeks spoke with BBC News about his previous research in March 1999: “Pleasure derived from sex is a crucial factor in preserving youth. It makes us happy and produces chemicals telling us so.”
7. It boosts your immunity.
In June 2004, researchers at Wilkes University found that individuals who have sex once or twice a week show higher levels of an antibody named immunoglobulin A (IgA) than those who have sex less frequently. IgA plays an important role in protecting the body from illnesses. So, more sex could mean fewer colds.
8. It helps you sleep.
According to Laura Berman, director of the Berman Center for Women’s Sexual Health, the endorphins released during sex can help you sleep.
9. Using a condom won’t inhibit your fun.
In January 2013, researchers at Indiana University concluded that sex with condoms can be just as satisfying as sex without. Safe and pleasurable? It’s a win-win.
YNaija.com

Cruel world: Story of tycoon missing for 8 months, found barefoot, starving with insult carved on forehead

 

A wealthy Irish property developer who was missing for eight months has finally been found wandering emaciated and dishevelled on a lonely country road.
The man, who was identified as Kevin McGeever, 68, had a lengthy beard, long fingernails and an insulting word carved into his forehead. He had also experienced dramatic weight loss. A woman who encountered him said: “We were told he used to be 16 and a half stone – he was just skin and bones now.”
Mr McGeever, went missing in June last year from his home in Galway. Previously he had enjoyed a conspicuously wealthy lifestyle,  living in a sprawling mansion worth an estimated €3m (£2.5m) and  travelling by helicopter and luxury cars, which include a Porsche and two Hummers.
Mr McGeever has a development company, KMM Commercial Properties, dealing mainly with properties in Dubai. He has  reportedly told police that he had been kidnapped and that a ransom was demanded for his release, but that he did not know whether  one had been paid. He was initially reported missing by his partner, Siobhan O’Callaghan. He was  found wandering on a road in Co Leitrim, around 10 miles from the border with Northern Ireland, on Tuesday night.
He was finally discovered, barefoot, by Catherine Vallely, 64, who said: “There was this person in the middle of the road who had a  flashing light. He had red trousers that made me think it was a cone, at first, in the middle of the road. He said three men threw him out  of a van.”
She added: “He had a pair of enormous eyes in a very thin face and his cheekbones stuck out. He was  rubbing his beard with fingers  that had long nails. He was very  well-educated, well-spoken, and  polite and articulate.”
Mr McGeever was driven to Ballinamore police station in Co Leitrim where, saying he was starving, he was given tea, biscuits and curried chips while his details were checked.
When found he had a mobile phone and a torch, and was carrying a back bin-bag. He reportedly did not know which county he was in, or the time, date or month. A word had been carved on his forehead with a knife. He was taken to hospital in the town of Mullingar for treatment for malnutrition and dehydration.
A local councillor who spoke to witnesses said: “He was absolutely ravenous. He was extremely thin and not in great shape at all. He didn’t know where he was and had to be told he was in Leitrim.
“He told them he had been dropped off by a number of men in a van and he had been in the van for some time. So it certainly appears that he was being held against his will, and that is what he indicated. Where he has been for the past months is anyone’s guess, but it must be a great relief for his family.”
Kidnappings for ransom are not unknown in Ireland, though the idea of someone being held captive for so long is highly unusual. In the past kidnappings were occasionally carried out by the IRA.
In 1983 a supermarket executive, Don Tidey, was abducted and held, probably coincidentally, in the Ballinamore area while a ransom was demanded. Although he was found by search teams, a soldier and a police officer died in a shoot-out with the IRA as he was rescued from his ordeal.
While the idea of mainstream republican involvement in the McGeever case is not taken seriously, it is possible that republican dissidents might be involved. In some border areas dissidents and criminal gangs are both engaged in lucrative activities such as cigarette smuggling and fuel-laundering/
YNaija.com

Jennifer Eliogu Goes To The Doctor

Celebrities are human like the rest of us. They eat, sleep, and fall ill like everyone else. Some days ago, popular Nollywood actress, Jennifer Eliogu Uchenna, was sighted in a hospital at Ogba, Lagos.
The popular actress known for her radiant smile was not in a smiling mood as it was obvious she was in pain.
A nurse checked her blood pressure and sought to know what was amiss. The actress, who was not her usual bubbly self, said she was having a throbbing headache especially at her frontal lobe and neck ache too. The nurse asked if Jennifer was hypertensive and she said she wasn’t.
The actress was advised to cut down on thinking and generally take things easy. She later entered the consulting room to see a doctor.
We wish the actress speedy recovery.
Naij

Surprising: Oprah’s OWN network hit with sex discrimination lawsuit by former employee [DETAILS]

by Rachel Ogbu

Oprah Winfrey’s OWN network was recently sued by a former employee for an alleged sex and pregnancy discrimination.
Carolyn Hommel who said after she was hired in 2010 as senior director of scheduling and acquisitions at the network, co-owned by Discovery Communications she received a favorable performance review and was told she was on-track to become a vice president but she was replaced by a temporary employee when she was forced to take a medical leave during her pregnancy.
In a lawsuit filed Friday February 1 in Los Angeles Superior Court, Hommel says her duties were gradually taken away from her and given to the temporary employee, and she was later excluded from numerous meetings when she returned to the office.
Filed by Michael Bononi and Christy Granieri of Bononi Law Group, the suit alleges causes of action for sex discrimination, disability discrimination, failure to prevent discrimination, retaliation and willful failure to pay wages upon discharge or termination.
Hommel said on March 19, 2012, a month after giving birth to her daughter, she received the news that she was being laid off. She was advised to re-apply for the vice president job, but was passed over.
According to reports, she claims that her boss, Michael Garner, fabricated a performance review that “made Hommel’s job duties and responsibilities appear less ‘senior’ and therefore not a candidate for the new vice president position.” Garner also is a defendant in the suit.
Hommel claims her demotion and dismissal are a direct result of her becoming pregnant and requiring a medical leave. She is seeking unspecified damages.
An OWN representative did not immediately respond to a request for comment.
 YNaija.com

‘The Office Of The First Lady Is In The President’s Bedroom’ – Senators React To N4bn Office For First Ladies Mission

Senators on Thursday, rejected a proposal by the Federal Capital Territory Administration to spend N4 billion to build the First Ladies Mission office complex in Abuja in 2013.
The proposal is contained in the FCTA’s N253 billion budget for 2013, which came up for second reading in the Senate.
The African First Ladies Peace Mission, a non-governmental organisation, which is headed by First Lady Patience Jonathan who was re-elected as its president in July last year, is locked in a court battle with former first lady, Turai Yar’Adua over the ownership of an 18,000-square-meters land in the Central Area of Abuja, on which the AFLPM headquarters is to be built.
Senators who spoke during a debate on the budget described the proposal to spend such an amount as scandalous.
Deputy Senate Leader Abdul Ningi (PDP, Bauchi Central), who stressed the illegality of the First Lady’s office itself, said the proposal was ridiculous in a country in need of development projects.
Senator Babajide Omoworare (ACN, Osun East) in his arguement was even more vocal as he said it would be embarrassing for the Senate to approve the money as the office of the First Lady is not known to the 1999 Constitution.
“The N4 billion proposed for the construction of the first ladies mission office is scandalous. It is a misplacement of priority. Even in the United States of America and the United Kingdom, there is nothing like first ladies mission building. This money can be used for projects that could impact positively on the lives of Nigerians,” he said.

Senator Babafemi Ojudu (ACN, Ekiti Central) said the Senate could incur the wrath of the public if it appropriates the money for the construction of the mission building.
“I’m worried that we can be voting N4 billion for the construction of the said first ladies mission building in a nation where millions of youths are roaming the streets without jobs, and infrastructure decaying. I hope this doesn’t get to the public, otherwise all of us in this chamber would be castigated,” he said.
“The office of the First Lady is in the president’s bedroom. The office is not known to law. Nigerians would be angrier with us if we appropriate the money. Already, on social media, Nigerians are cursing us, calling us thieves and all sorts of negative names. That shows the way our people feel about the leadership of this country.
“Recently, the Federal Government released only N1 billion each to some universities that are expected to train our youths who are the future leaders of this country, but now a whole sum of N4 billion is being proposed for the construction of the first ladies mission office which is of no developmental value to the nation. N4 billion? It appears we have lost sense of money” he lamented.
 InformationNigeria

[OPINION] Dele Momodu: My Dear Inspector General

Dear Sir, let me start by expressing my deepest sympathy at the ordeal our Police men and women face in the course of their duties in Nigeria. I knew you to be one of our finest officers during a brief encounter I had with you at the Louis Edet House in Abuja about four years ago. At that time, you were of the rank of Assistant Inspector-General of Police but I was very impressed by your charisma and carriage. You did not bear the mien of a typical Nigerian Police officer. You spoke eloquently and intelligently. I was happy when your name was announced as the Inspector-General by President Goodluck Jonathan. But I was also sad at the same time.
The reason was very simple. I had anticipated that, despite your vast experience, knowledge, and competence, you were going to be bogged down by excessive officialdom and our uncommon bureaucratic fiasco. The big men of power would never allow you control your own budget. They know where the fat allocations are and go after them like vampires. The Nigerian system has already erected more than enough obstacles to human progress and development. You are definitely going to be working at cross purposes with the civil servants and the gluttonous politicians at the Ministry of Police Affairs. At the end of the day, the Inspector-General would have nothing to inspect other than the rot of a nation completely at the mercy of public and private criminals.

Your officers will grow leaner like vultures while the reckless Administrators will grow fatter at their expense. The yearly allocation to your Ministry is enough to build our own Scotland Yard or Federal Bureau of Investigation but the greed of a few leaders and their collaborators will never allow such to happen. Nothing has ever changed in practical terms about the Nigerian Police Force. They have been sentenced permanently to a miserable life of penury. They are disrespected, abused, and exposed to danger without commensurate remunerations. It is such a shame that criminals are able, willing and ready to take good care of them than their own employers. I knew there is little you would be able to do to ameliorate their acute suffering no matter your level of determination.

While it is good that you've reached the peak of your carrier, it is not an enviable height to attain with all the humongous problems awaiting your attention. Virtually all your predecessors had failed to curtail and contain crime and criminals. A few of them even succumbed to the alluring temptations of fraud and corruption which forced the hunter to become the hunted. I pray such evil will not befall you. No man can do it all but I wish you can make the difference and achieve some tangible results. I will offer a few useful tips after regaling you with my personal encounters with the Nigerian Police Force.

My direct experience dates back to around 1988. I was travelling by public transport from Lagos to Ile-Ife. The Peugeot station wagon was stopped at a police checkpoint around the Lagos-Ibadan toll-gate. The driver had whispered something like "this police people are going to take the little money I've made today." At that time, and as a journalist, I did not know the ways of the Lagos people that well. I was a bushman straight out Great Ife and bristling with ideas and idealism. I asked the driver why he wanted to waste his money on the police when he had committed no crime. The driver mumbled some mumbo jumbo that I could not decipher. But I imagined he was thinking what my business was in the matter, if he chose to dash out his entire day's income. As one Yoruba adage would have put it, "who did we slap, who's the one crying?"

I was like an outsider weeping louder than the bereaved. I still don't know what demon possessed me that afternoon as I jumped out of the car to challenge the officers. One of them had collected the vehicle particulars and kept it in his sweaty arm-pit.  I waited a few minutes and opened my big mouth to query why the officer was wasting our time when all the documents were in place. That was almost a grave error. The officer asked why I poked my nose into what did not concern me. I committed a more fundamental  error by announcing confidently that I was a journalist. The last thing I recollected was that I felt some heavy explosion on my face.  Thereafter, I got a few quick jabs that would have made Mohammed Ali green with envy.

It did not end there. I was dragged to the police post near the toll gate where I was accused of, among other things, slapping an officer on duty, tearing his uniform and insulting them black and blue. I was too stupefied to talk.  The pain on my face did not help matters.  It all appeared like a bad dream and I just wished this cup would quickly pass over me. The officer behind the counter did not waste any time in sentencing me into his odoriferous detention centre where I could see some semi-lunatics yelling. There were no mobile phones in those days to make contact with my bosses at Concord newspapers.  I was therefore completely at their mercy. They were the accuser, the prosecutor and the judge. As they say in our country, it was a matter of "God's case no appeal!"

But as fate would have it, an angel miraculously appeared. An officer in mufti had peeped at my face and asked "is that not Dele Momodu of Concord?". I answered pronto, even before he completed the sentence.  He tried to speak my Edo language to me: "Ogbo…" He didn't realise I couldn't speak my dad's language, due to no fault of mine. Most parents did not take their kids home for fear of witches and wizards in those dark ages. I pretended to speak the language and he warned me not to interfere in police matters again. He didn't have to tell me. I had already learnt a great lesson.  Since that day, I tried to avoid the police like the plague. But I did not quite succeed.

Greater trouble came shortly after the June 12, 1993 presidential election which was won by my mentor, Chief Moshood Kashimawo Olawale Abiola, but was annulled by the Babangida government. I had gone to Chief Abiola's house in Ikeja, Lagos, that hot afternoon of July 30, if my memory serves me right. My plan was to spend a few hours, as was usual then, to review the way forward. Chief Abiola kept me in the house till about 4a.m when his last visitors left. He went into his bedroom and handed me some documents which he said I should hand over to the dare-devil reporters at Tell magazine. As dangerous as the mission was, I did not hesitate in accepting to undertake the risk of visiting one of the Tell directors clandestinely. I eventually decided to visit Mr Kolawole Ilori who lived towards Iyana-Ipaja/Akowonjo area of Lagos at that time. As soon as I handed the documents to him, I headed home somewhere in the Adigboluja-Ojodu area of Lagos, where my wife of only seven months was waiting with bated breath.

I had hardly climbed into bed when we heard a heavy bang on our door. The unwanted visitor left no one in doubt that whatever our own decision, he needed to see us by force. My wife ran into the bedroom in panic and told me of the persistent knocks on our door. I came out of bed and as the man of the house asked in my croaky voice who was at the door. The man at the other end said he was from the Force Headquarters at Kam Salem House in Moloney and that it was in my interest to open the door or have it forced open. I didn't test his threat or resolve. I simply obeyed.

He introduced himself and announced that he didn't come alone. His boss was waiting downstairs and I said he should please come up. The officer turned out to be Assistant Commissioner of Police Ganiyu Daodu (he was the Deputy Inspector-General of Police, Operations, who died recently. May Allah bless his soul). He told me they were inviting me for a friendly chat. From experience, I knew there was nothing so called. As a matter of fact, I had a premonition of my arrest and detention. It was only a matter of time. I pleaded with my invaders to let me take a quick shower since I had been out all night. They told me they had been trailing me all that time and were just waiting to for me to go home.

I eventually followed them and that friendly chat ended up with my unexpected detention at Alagbon. The Alagbon experience taught me why our police cannot act like normal officers elsewhere. These guys were just too poor. I was happy to have as the President of my cell, Mr Tunde Awelewa, a handsome gentleman and former Managing Director of the 21st Century Finance House. Immediately the Police brought me in, Mr Awelewa gave me a warm welcome and made me to escape some of the excruciating drill new-comers like me were expected to undergo. He told me to contribute money to the State, which was called Kalakuta Republic, which I promptly handed over to OC Treasury. Our in-house IG showed me round the filthy cell and gave all the conditions we must obey.

Sir, Nigeria is an amazing country. Your officers ran a powerful cartel in the detention camps. The bigger the detainee the happier they were. The place was as expensive as Sheraton Hotel because we had to buy our comfort. Our wives could bring us any food and sumptuous soups with catfish and other delicacies once we struck a deal. The President gave me the privilege of sitting outside the cell with him at night and we ordered our beer into pure water bottles smuggled in by friendly officers. It was our tranquiliser against the infidel mosquitos that bit us with a vengeance. We nicknamed one officer, Iku Baba Yeye, after he told us he's worked with the Police for over 20 years but had never seen N10,000 cash in his life. He said he would be tempted to free a murderer for as little as N20,000.

There was another officer who used to harass me every 5a.m when I first landed in the cell. He would come and start screaming and sending subliminal messages to me by saying: "Everybody wake up. We have to count you and you have to go and fetch your water now. There is no big man in prison. You're all equal." I did not realise it was all braggadocio to terrorise us into dropping some cash for him until one officer tipped me off. I asked how much I needed to pay and the man said N50 was good enough. I was too shocked that all that yelling was worth just N50. I decided to double it and it worked like magic.

Every morning the man came in and greeted me nicely. He gave me the sobriquet of OC Information, and got me some young guys to fetch me water and wash my plates and so on. It opened my eyes to the sad state of Nigeria and why crime cannot go away so easily. Officers in charge of weapons were encouraged to rent them out to criminals in order to survive the vicissitudes of life. I'm sure the situation is much worse today despite billions spent on the Police yearly. Nothing illustrates it better than the patriotic expose of the Ikeja Police College by Mr John Momoh and the Channels crew. My jaw dropped as I watched that ugly documentary. 

But all hope is not lost. I just have a few suggestions. I don't know how you will get your Ministry to act decisively, but you must try. The Nigeria Police needs a total overhaul. Fortunately for you, but sadly for Nigeria, we have PhD holders roaming the streets. Henceforth, you should give priority to First Class brains. You will get more than enough to recruit today.

You need to urgently retrain and re-orientate your entire workforce and take advantage of the advancement of technology and telecommunications in particular. If we can obtain 10 million phones for ten million farmers, you should be able to equip each officer with modern gadgets for tracking down criminals.

The welfare of the entire Police force must be paramount. They must be paid salaries that would make them less dependent on criminals. Their insurance package must be such that their families will never suffer if they suffer serious injuries or even death. A situation where criminals carry more sophisticated weapons than our police is totally unacceptable. You must clean up their environment and turn our police centres into objects of beauty. I am aware that one of your senior officers, Yinka Balogun, revamped Panti and the SFU at Milverton making the environment conducive for criminal investigation and detention. I am certain that such measures replicated on a larger scale will inspire and stimulate your officers to work harder and dramatically reduce crime within their ranks and thus also in our society. This is not an impossible task and I pray that God will assist you and crown your efforts with monumental success.
PSN

Fiona: A Beacon of Hope in the Trembling City of Kano

via: Peter Avan

Two weeks ago, a friend from Lagos that I met on Facebook, with an unusual name, Isqil Najim, asked me to see if I could meet one ‘white’ lady named Fiona that was living in Kano, my hometown. I didn’t really know why, yet it was not polite to ask. But when Isqil initiated a three-way online chat, I asked her to tell me, but she surprisingly said, ‘just come and see’. Her excitement was exuding through the screen so much that I was pinned to an appointment on the following Saturday. Honestly, I was not sure I was going to make it due to a series of engagements at work and the fact that I was not resident in Kano. Well, now I know, if I had failed, I would have missed what turned out to be, for me, the most remarkable encounter of the year 2012… and 2011.

On Saturday, last week, with my kids on vacation in Katsina, I picked my wife and drove to Kano. Of course, we visit my parents, relations and friends all the time. But this time, I told her, we were going only to greet my parents and then see Fiona. ‘Who is Fiona?’ my wife asked with creased brows. ‘I don’t really know her,’ I said tentatively, focusing on the road and wondering how ‘stupid’ I sounded. But my wife just shook her head and buried it back in her book. I’m sure she reckoned, ‘It can’t be that bad, after all, he’s taking me along.’ The silence thereafter, from Zaria to Kano, was simply too loud. Now, just yesterday at the market, she was fingering a traditional leather bag. When I asked why, she said, ‘I am thinking of a gift for Fiona.’ I had to smile.

But I was not smiling when we reached Kano last Saturday. It was a town under siege, barely recognizable from its boisterous past. Only long queues of cars at countless checkpoints and scared citizens trying to pretend that all is well. It took one and a half hours to drive from Zaria to Kano but it took another two and a half to get to Fiona’s house in Kano. I was mad, exhausted and confused. I thought, Kano would die if something was not done quickly and effectively. How did it get this bad! Within that circumstantial torment, we arrived at Fiona’s residence, which was located at about 100 meters inside the Sabuwar Kofa Gate of the old city.

It was a small house with a passage the opened out to a large courtyard. Fiona, a tall white woman with a warm, radiant smile received us at the passage and ushered us in. She was dressed in a traditional Hausa blouse, wrapper, head tie and a veil. I was very happy to see that she was perhaps in her late 40s or early 50s, not a young woman… and I’m sure my wife was happier. There were about five boys working in the courtyard. Fiona called their attention, introduced us and then led us to a set of chairs and table outside one of the rooms where we settled. And that was when the story began.

She opened with thanking me for the trouble taken to come and see ‘them’. She apologized for the traffic in Kano, the difficulty in movement and the heat. She offered us the fruits on the table and told us to be comfortable, ‘this is our house’ she said. I was thinking I should be the one apologizing since she was the guest in my country, my hometown, when she focused on my companion. I introduced my wife and mentioned where she worked. Fiona’s eyes sparkled with admiration. I think from that point, until we left, Fiona only glanced at me a few times to answer my questions but her attention was fully on my wife. No point saying my wife was glad. I thought she was equally so mesmerized she forgot I was there.

In just a few a minutes, we realized we had before us a remarkable, brave, brilliant and compassionate human being worth multiples of her weight in Gold. The wisdom that flowed from her soft but firm voice and the gesticulations of her hands overwhelmed us. My wife was so unconcerned despite noticing how glued my eyes were on another woman. This was not just another woman. This is a living legend who must be appreciated, respected and revered. And I will tell you why.

Fiona Lovatt Davis is a white lady from New Zealand who came to Nigeria briefly in 2001 to attend the 2nd Pan African Reading Conference hosted by the Reading Association of Nigeria. But long before then she was a young woman in a teacher training school back home, who was asked to beat an errant kid during teaching practice, as a pre-condition for the award of her certificate. Fiona argued that she did not have to use a cane to instill the right tenets in a school kid. As the system refused to listen to her, she took the errant kid out and spoke to him. In the end, the kid was so remorseful that he agreed to cane himself and went back to the class crying. Young Fiona earned her certificate. But that convinced her that she had to do something to change the ways of teaching in New Zealand. Eight year later, she opened her own school, using her own home-developed methods and took an aim to accomplish her dreams. A few years later, Fiona and her methods were celebrated in New Zealand. But that was just the beginning.
In one of the poor schools she visited in New Zealand, she noticed there were no books in their library. Fiona came back home, asked her children to give up the books they didn’t need, a whole carton, which she took to that school. Fiona called her friends to donate books for schools. Many of them obliged her. Within a short while there were as many books in the poor schools as there were in those of the rich. That was how the Book Project was born.

When Fiona came to Nigeria in 2001, she was moved by the dearth of books for school children. On getting home, she began mobilizing to get school children to donate their used textbooks to children in Nigeria. The drive took hold. Public libraries and schools served as collection points all over New Zealand. Competitions were organized amongst school children to see who would collect more books. The intention was to collect enough books in one week to fill a 40 ft container for shipping to Nigeria during Christmas. This was achieved.

On hearing about the beautiful work she was doing, the Global Bridge NGO partnered with her and shipped the books to Nigeria.Today, in 2012, over 190 schools in Nigeria owe the books in their libraries to Fiona.

Fiona went back to her country and continued her remarkable work of reshaping education in New Zealand. She had always hoped to come to Nigeria to deliver training and literacy workshops to teachers and to oversea the distribution of the books in the schools. In 2012 she got that opportunity to come back and do that, but this time, she had a related but by far more remarkable and brave mission.

She told us that when she heard all the bad news about ‘deaths’ in Northern Nigeria, she could not reconcile it with the nice, amiable and resourceful people that she thought she saw back when she was here in 2001. The story that the almajirai were being used in killing people did not sit well in her cranium. And if that were true, she resolved that she had to do something about it. She could not sit down in New Zealand while kids were reportedly being misguided into wasting their own lives and others’. Fiona arrived Nigeria at the time foreigners were being advised by their countries to stay away. In fact, just as she was settling in that house, where some other foreign aid workers were staying, the Kano bombs blasted. And as soon as the day curfew was lifted, she was the only foreigner that stayed in that house. She was in Kano for a reason, to help solve the problems, in any way she can, thousands of miles from her home.

Fiona asked the almajirai that were sleeping every night in the passage to move into the house where she gave them rooms. They could not believe where this angel was coming from. Fiona called them, interviewed them and made a deal with them. She was going to give each one of them some money to learn a trade and run it to earn a living. The money was not for free; they were to be paying back in installments from portions of their profits. They were to bring in five more younger ones to live with them as a junior set. As Fiona trains them, the older ones are to take care of and mentor the younger ones. Those boys agreed. The deal was struck and the began. Those were the boys we saw repairing a wheel barrow in the compound.

Fiona teaches those kids for at least two hours everyday. She made them find seedlings and grow plants in the compound which they donate to their neighbours. Fiona goes out everyday and relates with the community. In a few weeks she became a darling of all, a beacon of hope. Fiona began her job of going to schools to organize workshops on better teaching and curriculum development. Fiona reasoned that the best thing to do was to incorporate the teaching of English, Maths and Science in those Tsangaya (Almajirai) schools as they are, hoping that will somehow help in bridging the gap. Some organizations in Kano bought the idea and supported it. Now a considerable number of schools have enriched their curriculum in that respect.

Fiona said, her intention was for those kids to maintain that house and be rehabilitating more and more almajirai even after her departure. That when she mentioned the issued in a Radio programme in Kano, one man phoned in and pledged to pay one-quarter of the rents for the kids. As she spoke about them, our eyes were glued on her. The compassion in her eyes when she considered their future could melt any heart. She was worried that ‘her sons’ might miss the road again, and that was why she was trying so hard to build a solid, impregnable foundation of a better life for them.

That was when I understood why Isqil wanted me to meet Fiona (whom he had met online too). He wanted me to see how one woman came, from 5000 miles away, to change the lives of at least 10 kids, in my hometown, that would have been begging on the streets (probably) for the rest of their lives. He wanted me to reflect on our lives here where we throw away our kids and expect the world to take care of them. He wanted me to be ashamed of myself watching a woman from another part world doing what I and my friends should be doing to arrest the situation. Imagine if all the households in Kano will take one almajiri in as their own, the way Fiona did for ten. Imagine if we took interest in those Tsangaya schools and support the introduction of some subjects with our resources, even formalization of the schools.

Fiona did not wait for the Government of New Zealand to change the curriculum. She opened her school and changed it. People saw the effect, liked and adopted it. She did not wait for Nigerians or their Government to procure books for the kids in those schools. She went back home and did something about it. Fiona did not wait for the parents of almajirai or the or the Government to do something about their plight. She travelled 5000 miles to practically save their lives.

As I reeled in awe of her greatness, Fiona said, 'I love it when I go out to the streets and see that I can change lives and make people happy just by being a little nice. Too many people need help. In New Zealand, I'll leave my house and move around, nobody needs any help. I cannot even intervene when my neighbours are fighting. Everyone is on his own. Nobody cares about anybody. But in this community, there is love, peace and need. Why don't we exploit them to make God and ourselves happy?'

Well, Fiona has shown us what to do and how to go about it. Now it is our turn.

United Women Integrated Development Initiative (UWIDI)
This was written by Auwal Sani Anwar
and reposted by UWIDI