Welcome to Ikenna Ugwu's Blog

Source: Bella naija  Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche is one of the most avid and beautiful writers of my time. I am convinced that this is not an overstatement. She is a writer after my own heart. I am not a fan just because she is a Nigerian, and hail from the same coal city state as myself and grew up in Nsukka, a place I am proud to call home. I love Adiche because in every piece of her writing she  doesn't leave me blind or confused. Adiche makes me see - painting real, vivid pictures of my immediate environment as it is. My love for Adiche's craft will not die. Her latest short story, " Olikoye " is an epic. For me, it is the greatest tribute to Olikoye Ransome-Kuti - that paediatrician and health campaigner, arguably the best cabinet minister Nigeria ever had. This will be our talking point as I set to release a post on this soon. Lets hear what you think about the story an its effect as it relates to current realities in Nigerian today. Meanwhile, here is A...

(For those broken hearts, that love find you yet again) (art credit: Google) The last word in my dairy was   love . It was in bold, cap letters, I remember. My diary was kept a secret. A secret I kept from everyone else, for myself; a secret account of everything I feared and hoped for, of love and hatred, of pain and gain. I read it every day because it reminds me of everything I had and all I wanted to have. Basically, I kept diaries to express myself; to shout when someone tries to shut me up; it helps me to say everything. In my diary I sing, I laugh, I cry. In essence, my diary makes my muteness eloquent. Today, I am holding my diary in my hand – my secret book, thinking if some of the entries are mere accounts of my dreams. How things change! The last page was dated 16 th   August, 2008. Saturday, August 2008. My friend once told me that love is nothing but illusion; he calls it a mirage. He said it was something in your mind. “Just an imagination,” he w...

Precious Chimnonso Few days ago I was in Jos, Plateau state capital. I was there for something else, but my curiosity led me to a place where I found one of the most beautiful and astonishing things I have seen this this year; where I met a little boy  with a golden hand. He says, “my hand itches when am not drawing.” Hmmm! Last week, I read what my friend wrote on her blog,  omachies.blogspot.com , about her Itchy Fingers ;   how her fingers in time past dreamt of “how they would produce bestsellers before they moved out of teenage hood, how they would stun the world with the amazing things they could create”. She thinks her fingers had gone cold, but no.  From what I read in that piece, it was obvious that her once fragile fingers (according to her) were either never cold/fragile or are getting stronger and firmer, and I didn’t hesitate to tell her in the comment box. This story is not about Omachies and her itchy fingers. No. I found another hand tha...

I have been a man on the climb. Though I may have been on a quite dawdling pace, which sometimes deadens my spirit, I still keep hope alive. I have fallen, I know. Yes, countless time. But I have always said no; always picked something each time, stood up and moved on. I have always believed. Resolute. Hoping. Trusting. I must have failed if I stayed down each time I fell.   No, I am not such a fraidy-cat. The prize is somewhere up there. I know. And that’s why I clime, making moves, taking decisions (right and sometimes wrong), trying,pushing - eyes on the mark, the prize to gain; and when the gold is in my grab, only then must I have attained. But would that even be the end? Oh! No. There would always be something for man to climb. I always do. How about you; have you been climbing too; did you fall at any point? Still down? Oh, that would be tragic. Yea, 2014 perhaps came with loads of hopes, promises and even opportunities. But most of them, like straying embers, went ...

In the entirety of this piece, my case is simple: that there is no justification for the stagnation, misery, afflictions - all of which government cause us; that there is no rationale for government’s negligence, inattention and exclusion of a people whose rights ought to be protected by the same government; that danger is imminent when people are angry, neglected and totally forgotten by their own government.  The Polytechnic/Colleges of Education students have been forgotten. The ASUP/COEASU industrial action has been one strike too long, yet it has never been considered a national mishap worthy of attention. It is disheartening to see that our government has been unconcerned and unsympathetic. Or should I say they lack the political and moral conscience to end the impasse. This is an unjust disposition and untenable sin with real consequences. If it did not rain no one would know that an ostrich has eight fingers. In this we see the level of government commitmen...

The Polytechnic is an institution of higher learning offering a range of professional vocational and technical courses. In essence, it proves a breeding ground for people who create and champion country’s vocational and technological development. Polytechnic institution is not just peculiar to Nigeria. There are polytechnics in many countries of the world. The difference, however, lies in the status and mandate it represents. The British higher education, for instance, started off as polytechnics. However, after the passage of the Further Higher Education Act in 1992, some of the polytechnics assumed the ‘university’ title, which means “they were made full-fledged universities and awarded degrees.” The designation ‘polytechnics’ was therefore less used. The result, however, was the dichotomy between the two educational institutions (university and polytechnics), just as it is here. The British called it the “Binary Divide.” Like in many countries, the major aim of polytechnic i...