Taiwo Olaniyi

I read Harry Henderson's Privacy in the Information Age between August 29th and August 30th, 2020. Privacy is a desirable fortune for every human. We all always crave some sense of autonomy - the desire to be spared from unwarranted intrusions either from individuals or corporations. Unfortunately, this desire is becoming a pipe dream as our control of our own privacy is increasingly spiralling out of our control in the current age of internet. In other words, our privacy is not fully guaranteed in this current information age. This is because there has been an explosive growth in our appetite for information and dependence on the internet for it. However, the more we depend on it to fulfil our needs for information, the more we reveal our innermost self which was fondly kept private before the current infiltration of internet into our lives. The phenomenon of privacy, particularly information privacy is the core preoccupation of Henderson's book which considers the

I read Chinweizu Ibekwe's Anatomy of Female Power between August 25th and August 26th, 2020. Matriarch exists. Does matriarchy exist powerfully as patriarchy does? This is the question which this book proffers answers to. It is a brief essay which, with persuasive series of evidence, challenges the catholicity of the impression that matriarchy is a mirage. It evidently submits that female power exits and "the power they wield is neither illusory nor a joke." Theirs is an amorphous mass of power which calls the shots for men all through their lives.  To contest the men's supremacist attitude towards women, it handily details how women's influence cut through men's existence like a thread. The three phases of men's life are ruled by women's power: motherpower, bridepower and wifepower.  The motherpower manifest in the cradle and espouses the universal truth that "the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world." The

I read Toyin Falola's A Mouth Sweeter than Salt between Saturday 22nd August and 23rd August, 2020. The book gives full rein to anyone who is interested in having an intimate view of Falola's childhood experiences in Ìbàdàn. The events recounted in the book cover the first thirteen years of the author and profoundly spread across places such as Agbọ́kọjó , Ode Aje and Elepo , all in the current Ọ̀yọ́ state. These experiences as Falola alluringly presents them will easily have special resonance with every Yorùbá that had their formative years steeped in Yorùbá mores, particularly patriarchy and polygamy.  Although the only child of his mother for his father who died barely five months after his birth, his early life was moulded and mothered by different Mamas. Besides the zillion filial duties he performed for them in return for handsome rewards in cash and kind, the talk that curiosity killed the cat almost held true for him. But his own cat did not died; It was r

To demonstrate the tips in items 3 and 4 in  my reading habits , these are the books I have read in August and the ones I intend to read from September, 2020 to June, 2021.  3. List of Books I have read  ➡️ AUGUST, 2020 i. Lewis Carroll's Alice Adventures in the Wonderland (3:40AM to 4:45AM) 09/08/2020 ii. Andrew Walker's ‘Eat the Heart of the Infidel (09/08/2020 to 13/08/2020) iii. Chinelo Okparanta’s Happiness Like Water (15/08/2020 to 16/08/2020)  iv. Toyin Falola's A Mouth Sweeter than Salt  (22/08/2020 to 23/08/2020) v. Chinweizu's Anatomy of Female Power (25/08/2020 to 26/08/2020)  vi. Harry Henderson's Privacy in the Information Age  (29/08/2020 to 30/08/2020) 4. List of books I want to read ➡️ SEPTEMBER, 2020 PROFESSIONAL BOOKS  i. Rebecca Boden, Debbie Epstein and Jane Kenway's Building your Academic Career (08/09/2020 to 09/09/2020)  ii Ron Fry's How to Study  iii. Anna Wierzbicka's Imprisoned in English  iv Godfrey Ashe's The Art of Writin

I read it between Saturday, 15th August, and Sunday 16th August, 2020. The book is a collection of short stories with border on family and love. Told through first person narrative technique, the stories explore the lives of the narrators across different intrigues of love, family, and domestic violence, particularly the haplessness and powerlessness of women within the firm grip of patriarchy. The narrators are mainly female except the last story which has male narrator. The settings of the stories alternate between Nigeria and America, with majority of them set in Port Harcourt, Nigeria.  The stories tows a different line in 'America' where the narrator embraces highly-forbidden love with another character of the same sex. Same sex affairs are unlawful in Nigeria where the story is set, and attract stiff penalties. However, America is recognised by the parents of narrator as a safe haven to practice such type of love without any fear. This represents a widening

When I was offered admission into St. Patrick's Grammar School, Adenuga, Gbongan in 2004, my aunt who had attended the school earlier used to threaten me that the school principal, Prince Adébáyọ̀ Bínúyọ́, would beat my puerile naughtiness out of me. She would then cite innumerable instances that would definitely make one liable to receiving stinging strokes of cane from him. I would always cower in fear whenever she threatened me with these realities. But my grandmother would graciously dispel my fears in Yorùbá that 'Inú Bínúyọ́ máa yọ́ s'ọmọ mi' (Binuyọ́ will be pleased with my son).  Weeks into my admission to St. Patrick's (as it was popularly called then), I experienced these realities with him. He was on the one hand a bundle of awesomeness and on the other hand a wise and constructive disciplinarian when it came to such issues as students' truancy. He was a principal whose stance would crumble every form of academic infraction. I can still vividly rememb

I read it between 9th August and Sunday 13th August, 2020. Walker was a journalist with Daily Trust and BBC when he wrote this book in 2016. It is a well-researched book which traces the beginning of Boko Haram insurgency in the North East from the power tussle between the Hausa and Fulani communities to the contemporary time of the powerlessness of the Nigerian military to contain it. The title of the book is from the speech Abubakar Shekau made in 2014 “Shekau! Eat the heart of the infidels, since infidels want to disobey Allah.”   Walker first locates the radical Islamic ideology being championed by the Boko Haram sect in the purist agenda previously advocated by different radical Islamic scholars such as Shehu father of Othman dan Fodio who waged different wars to correct “heathen practices”, Abubakar Gumi who challenged prevailing Islamic customs, and Mohammed Yusuf, who set and enforced strict standards of religious practice and started Boko Haram on the ideology that

It took me 1 hour and 05 minutes to read this novel on 19th August, 2020. It tells the story of a young girl named Alice and her wandering and wondering in the animal world which she falls into through a rabbit hole. Her wondering starts when she sees a white rabbit with waistcoat-pocket and a watch. She becomes very curious and follows the rabbit into it hole.  When she gets to the rabbit hole, she starts wandering around the different architectures she finds which have striking resemblance to what she can easily relate to. Just in the beginning of novel, she finds cupboards and book-shelves, in the end of the novel, she finds herself in a court as an accused person.  Her experiences, particularly the different potions she drinks that change her physique frequently are well illustrated in the novel. The changes she undergoes when she drinks these potions which often have clear label on them make her wonder excessively.  Alice's curiosity and courage to acclimatise her

Let me remember one of my performances at the annual end of the year party for graduating students in my primary school. I was not one of the graduating students then but rather I was an ante-penultimate student. Expectedly, there were series of performances from both students and invited professionals essentially to entertain the audience and to make the student enjoy the glamour of their 'end of the year party' as it was called then. My performance was a short competition, I was paired with Moses Adekunle, a brother and a fellow student, to showcase our knowledge of Yorùbá incantation to entertain the audience. We were not 'Bàbà aláwò' but we had a vast knowledge of Yoruba incantation owing to the innumerable number of Yorùbá movies we had watched then. There was no need for any rehearsal. We had our knowledge from the likes of Ábíjà, Dagunro, Fadeyi-Oloro, Alapinnu, Lalude, etc who were prominent characters in Yoruba movies then. So, I was called and given the microp

I remember these titles with Mr. Sarumi back in 2007. Drama text 1. Futile Endeavour Prose 2. So Long a time Poems 3. Orderliness  4. Work hard  5. Moderation  6. The Mother's Reminisce  7. Equality  8. Trust 9. Experience There is a saying that if you can write your name, thank your teachers. May God Almighty continue to bless Mr. Sarumi who introduced us to Literature in English back then in 2007. I remember his zeal, vigour and the vast amount of energy he expended on us to appreciate these literary works. Thank you very much sir.

The comma knows its place It always stays in the middle. Why does a full stop like to be in the end And allow a question mark to always end a question? I hope a full stop end this sentence instead of a question mark.

Let generally agree that devil is the being responsible for all misdoings. But there is a certain 'sub-devil' who specialises in shaming one in one's first attempt to impress one's audience. Let consider these scenarios. 1. You just met an older person for the first time and you rushed with all joy to collect her luggage from her as a mark of respect for her. But, alas!, the luggage fell from your hand with a thud destroying all the valuables therein. 2. You were a debutant in your new football team. Because of your sterling records you were selected  to play in a derby. Everything had been going well for you until you scored a bizarre own goal which led to your team's loss. 3. Your fiancé took you along to meet his parents for the first time and you were asked to cook for the family as evidence of your acceptance into the family. You entered the kitchen and started cooking. You started putting all the required seasonings into the food but when you were crushing a c

It's high time I confessed to the world that English has launched many onslaughts on my Yoruba life. And if utmost caution is not exercised, my Yorùbá indentity could only be seen in my name. I called my granny yesterday after a long time to ask after her and to know how the just concluded election in Osun state was in her place. It was first a cheerful conversation but I noticed something was wrong with me. During the conversation, alas, I could not make a complete sentence in Yorùbá without mixing it with English. The 12- minute conversation was fraught with rough translations, repetitions and gaps. I was helplessly fumbling for Yoruba words to use. I had to rack (not, crack) my brains to say ' Wednesday, vote, election, party, won, and don't worry' in meaningful Yorùbá. Somebody should save me from English. In my greeting, handshake has replaced prostration. In my dressing, I only wear my native dress on Friday and Saturday while English dress takes the other days. I

My wedding ceremony will be on Saturday and the thanksgiving will be on the following day, Sunday. My fiancée solely has the liberty to choose these dates. But before she chooses those two days, these factors must be strictly considered: 1. I'm an avid Arsenal fan (COYG). Arsenal must not have a football match on any of those days. But If Arsenal has a match that day, I may leave to go and watch the match or have the match shown for us during the ceremony or thanksgiving. 2. But if on that Saturday or Sunday, Arsenal FC is playing tothenham fc, the wedding ceremony or thanksgiving will definitely be postponed to another time. I will never miss a London derby. In a Gunner's mind, Arsenal FC is more than a club; it's a religion.

Part 1 After she had carefully examined my eardrums with one of the numerous but unknown medical instruments on her table, she remarked 'Taiwo, there's nothing wrong with your eardrums'. She checked them again and gave same remark that there was even no dirty particle in them that could be causing me the problem I had complained to her. I was shocked because the previous days had been tormenting. I had been very uncomfortable with my ears. I could not stand near any noise. It wasn't deafness. It was just that my eardrums were vibrating as if some beats were being played to it from the unknown. I freely told her I had been using earphones constantly for a long time to induce concentration. She exclaimed "stop using Earphones, it's bad for your ears. It causes partial deafness". I wasn't shocked by her exclamation because I had read leaflets about it and my phone, the main culprit, used to display warnings about playing music on high volumes. I thanked t

IN MY INK in my ink, my ever flowing stream,  Lies words, the words of war.  War against weird warriors warring us without a cause.  In my ink, my meandering stream, Lies peace, the peace that pierce war  in its arms, that its sword may fall;  And never be taken again. In my ink, my river of sanity, Lies questions, questions about our lives, How our pride has been prided  for their own pearl of pride; Of questions about this unchanged changers and their cruel change.  In my ink, the river where Venus baths, Lies love, love that can unite the world,  That we can live together like ants in their cave,  Oblivious of our identities. Written by Femi Amusan 

Act one: Scene one (*No rigid stage arrangement: enters death in his full regalia with grime, looks grim and grinning...*)  Death: I'm the erroring in human history, I strike in will. I'm the way every soul must passed , they accuse that I kill whereas I don't. I only grab what I love because I am jealous. I read somewhere that "the reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity - it's envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can". Yes it's true, I'm jealous. ( *he grins*). I've grab Professors, Doctors, Engineers, Pharmacists, Accountants, who else...? ( *Enters briskly a Grammarian, nibbling the tip of his pen as he ruminates... *) Grammarian: What I've read has made me a grammarian. Just speak and I'll pass grammatical judgements. I know English Grammar. I've degrees in English. I'm very relevant to life, I spot and correct errors in

For all I can remember up till this moment, Friday May 25th, 2018 was a usual day. A usual day in the sense that I woke up at the usual time, did the morning rituals as usual and set out to work on the first plan of the day which was to visit a bank in Warri from my house, a suburb of Ughelli, Delta state. As I left my house, I did not have the faintest idea that my visit to bank would make that day a very, very unusual day where I would be robbed of my... The robbery happened thus: I entered this bank and saw a sea of people in the banking hall jostling to form a queue. I joined them and soon, a queue was hurriedly formed. All I knew then was that two (beautiful) girls were behind me. Let me quickly mention here that I just left NYSC orientation camp in Delta state some days earlier, so I put on my NYSC cap. Minutes later, a tall, dark and unsmiling bank official approached the queue and said, 'stay orderly, this is a bank'. One of the girls quickly retorted that we too were o

Behind my well laid bunk lie  bevy of busy Workers  once I sleep, they wake  into a feeding frenzy  Sleep in peace,  we feed at ease  Little lucky monsters  lurking slyly in cimicid  Why must you slay in  the red fluid?  I know you work in complicity  But, No.  You cannot suck me dry  Sniper knows right  That  Behind my well laid back  are tokens of your works.  (Written after a vigorous battle with these little monsters in the midnight of 20th August,2017, I take responsibility for any imperfection in this piece)

He opened the book which he just borrowed from the library, a book with a tattered cover and broken letters in its title. But three letters were visible: TRA....He opened to the first chapter and read on.  Sitting beside him is his uncle with a 7-day old baby in his hands, a short figure is pouring wine into glass behind them. She is their maid who is always sloven and will never stop fidgeting at any task. A ceiling fan is swishing furiously while his uncle is shaking his head to a hip hop song with the baby clasped in his hand. To respond to the fast beat, he suddenly throws the baby up into the air, fresh blood rains as the fan cuts the baby into slices. The glass falls from the maid as she remembers what she put on the cooker in the kitchen. The horrified uncle slips on the shattered glass on the floor and his throat is slit by the sharp edge of the glass. The cooker in the kitchen catches fire and burns the kitchen first before escaping to raze the whole building. He could not rea

Every creation creates a date  Every invention invents a date  Every book books a date  As every birth births a date  Her nerves strained  A torrid time.   Her lips, a new song  A gladsome time.  A September to remember  When I escaped Virgo Then I inked the next  day, a Libra. In pursuance of September 23rd It clasped me inside out  But dropped me off Seeing only myself ©Taiwo Olaniyi, September 2016

They are always two  Numbered than a back  Bizarre to front them Because they are Ìbejì  Buy two not one  Paired not polar  Divide equally  Because they are Ìbejì  Carol unremittingly  Every night, a slick berceuse Their apt opium  Because they are Ìbejì Beans and palm oil  Ekuru and Aadun  Their peculiar taste !!!  Because they are Ìbejì  I am not exclusive  I cannot fly solo  I am dyadic  Ask for my partner  Because I am a twin.  ©Taiwo Olaniyi, August,2016

Life, an abstruse montage.  Providence bested choice  Lagos was the pick  But providence moulded Gbongan As provenance and as cradle  Wee hours of Wednesday  September 23rd A howling birth; Ìbejì  Our nascence mooted the names; TAYE and KẸ̀HINDE  House became a gleeful formicary Every leg headed here Every lip spieled gaily  Every eye gaped the cot  Every heart longed  A September in Gbongan  Of birth and bread  Of TAYE and KẸ̀HINDE  Of mirthful ÒGÚNLÀDÉ  Life, indeed a medley of tides. ©Taiwo Olaniyi, For September 23rd.

Let today sting, Let tomorrow soothe  Let today bellow  Let tomorrow burst  Today is two-prong  Pang and pride Tomorrow, a font Hope!  Man ensconced in quandary of  Writhing in today, relishing in tomorrow. ©Taiwo Olaniyi, August 2016.

"The story of time is a deathless plotless tale" - Shola Ojikutu Time has always been that eerie phenomenon. The beginning and the end. The end of all beginning; the beginning of all end. Yet time is as abstract as any form of nature, but its effects on nature and man as concrete as the concrete manifests of nature. However, man's existence on earth has been calibrated by time; the moment he reaches his point on the life-scale, time switches his being off. While man's tale is often a defined story-line, having the kick-off point and stoppage point, time runs on interminably. Who knows the age of time? Perhaps nature. Scientists have been dating natures too - the age of the earth etc. Yet, man's quest for immortality has made him devise a means of living beyond the span given him by time. History. I find one, almost uncanny succour in history; it notes our exploits and de-exploits, therefore making our brief sojourn here as timeless as time itself which consumes us

“To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.” — W. Somerset Maugham Recently, I came across a link that led me to tips to develop great reading habits. I read the tips and I was deeply impressed with what the author outlined. I made some notes and I think it's appropriate to share it with you.  To cultivate a reading habit, do the following: 1. Set times.  To start with, you have to set a specific time for reading, and you must be disciplined enough to stick to it. Lena Dunham said  “Let’s be reasonable and add an eighth day to the week that is devoted exclusively to reading.”  For me, I have set aside the hours between 4AM and 8PM on Saturday and Sunday.  2. Make a list.  That is you have to keep a list of all the great books you want to read. I have made my list already and I keep adding to it anytime I read reviews of the books I am yet to read. After all, “ you can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long

                      MY LIBRARY   Ever since I read William Ellery Channing's words on books in Ben Carson's Think Big, I have developed voracious palate for books. Channing rightly posits that "it is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds. In the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours. God be thanked for books. They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages. Books are true levelers. They give all who will faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence, of the best and greatest of our race. " This assertion has had considerable influence on my literary enthusiasm, and I will forever crave the orgasmic fulfilment I get from reading books.  Although, I currently have in soft copies more than 8,000 books on my laptop, these are the titles of books that you will likely find in hard copies in my library.