Thursday, December 26, 2013


... by Poetic Tee "Here, take a sip"

The death of Mandela was more celebrated than mourned
For such a great loss, that was a contradiction to the norm
When such legends pass on, heaven is known to be rent asunder
A huge shooting star is registered to cross the earth's horizon
But not so, in the case of one of the most recognized icon of 21C
Death gave enough notice that it was coming for Rolihlahla
So much so, the sudden shock an event of such magnitude generates
Was absent when mankind lost one more strand of its civility
When the moment came and the man passed, voices were raised
Not in painful cries of sorrow, but in songs of celebrations
For a life well spent, fulfilled, under the spotlight of history
Kings and Queens, the rich and poor all queued to pay homage
But tears were scarce, only praises as he was finally lowered
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, ends another amazing journey
Once again proving true, known or unknown, the sun sets on all.

(c)(r) 261213 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved

Monday, December 23, 2013


Beauties are all over the place now
While some are made in the womb
Others are purchased off a shelf
But how long does true beauty
Or the applied "beauty" last?

At the peak of their imaging
Everything's so firm and full
Most think it'll last for eternity
One often wonder what gives them
Such false notion that beauty lasts

But, alas the bubble finally burst
Revealing the same servings
Served all youths through time
Only, lessons are never learnt
That physical beauty never last?

Young, beautiful, lustrous pearl
Reminds of fresh ripe luscious tomato
It comes off green and matures red
Shining beautifully, so full of itself
So adorable, guilt covers the first slice

Best thing that can happen to it though
To be used for a mouth watering meal
Be it for a veggie salad or to enrich a soup
Otherwise, it glitters to a tasteless waste
Given a day or two, perhaps just three

A shrivel, a tear, then a white spot
Tell-tale that the fame is over now
Fit only for the delight of tiny wings
Together they fly into the trash bin
And they too soon abandon the lurch

Whoever uttered the wise saying first
"Bow out when the ovation is loudest"
How many heed that from the rest
As another green tomato set to bloom
Dare to ask it, "How long does beauty last?"

"O, oh!" Hold on. For, here we go again!

(c)(r)231213 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved

Sunday, December 22, 2013


... by Poetic Tee "Here, take a sip"

One often can't help
But wonder why

Beautiful women
Who are so, so fly

Are never seen
Wiping off a sigh

For the good
Of a sad heart nearby

Or perhaps to them
The price of time is too high

Often too busy
Self-pampering their thy

Maintaining, preserving
Their attractive thigh

Indulging in their charms
Bouying them afloat in the sky

For the next king
So, they can't afford a hi

Till they loose it all to gray
For not longer than eating a pie

How long is that
A minute or just a while?

Not long thereafter
They don't mind it in a penthouse or a pigsty

(c)(r) 131213 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved

Sunday, December 15, 2013


... by Poetic Tee "Here, take a sip"

The bus is full and the journey has commenced
The driver is the one in total control now
There are various passengers on the ride
It is commonplace for some to pray
Others simply trust in the driver
One or two'd ignore and be non-chalant
Some would sleep with their mouth open
A few read their mags, newspapers, novels
First time travellerslook out to enjoy the scenery
Regulars engage in gossips, conversations and more
While one or two pay rapt attention to the road ahead

They really do not care about any but themselves
They are not the driver, but equally watch the roads
Through the vehicle's screen with more fear and agitations
Often panicking and alerting the "cool headed" driver
Who assures them that there is nothing to worry about
But, instinctively they know there is and so are vigilant

There of course is the disheveled and dingy bus conductor
With a very foul mouth, who often would shout down any
Who express fears about how the driver is performing
That is his job, very often self-imposed to please his master

But, how often the news is read to the rest of the world
About an accident in which all in the vehicle have perished
Except an innocent child or two
Is this making some sense? 

Many would say, that "mad, crazy, selfish" person
Who was cautioning the driver is being too worried
He should relax and enjoy the ride, just like others
Luckily another might add his concern to the agitation
Then another and another and another and one other
Soon the non-chalant, sleepers, readers, gossippers
Get disturbed from their preferred engagements

They would each get involved, help restore normalcy
So, they can continue enjoying their travel past time
For it is mostly when many or almost all in the ride
The passengers become wary of the dangers
And they appeal to the driver to do the right thing
That the sojourn would be safe, each arriving their destinations
And thus tell the story of a nostalgic golden experience

"Kukan kurciya jawabi ne... (The Dove's Cry is a message...)
Mai hankali ke ganewa. (Only the wise understands it)

(c)(r) 131213 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, December 11, 2013


Heard on the radio last night that the Sign Language interpreter at the Nelson Mandela funeral was a fake. The association for the deaf and dumb in South Africa have expressed their dismay at the gross disrespect upon their whole lot. This goes to show how confident fraud is fast becoming in this world. What audacity!  Can just imagine, at a world gathering like that, for such a monumental occassion! If it were in Nigeria, I'd understand and it'd be acceptable. Yes, we've tarnished our image to that despicable point.  But, in South Africa? With all these important guys in attendance and at the funeral of one of the most important figure in modern day global village Nelson Mandela?  This is unforgivable!

Monday, December 9, 2013


... by Poetic Tee "Here, take a sip"

I am a witness that
The end of time has begun
And nudity of the mind, body and soul is now vogue

I am ashamed that
Man has stooped so low
As to go back to being a beast in 21c

I am daunted that
Parents, many, are no more that
But abusers of innocence

I am worried that
The young, our future are taking
To immorality and materialism

I am disturbed that
The politicians are disgracefully
Exploiting of their people's trust

I am lamenting that
Freedom of speech is used
As a means to cause disharmony

I am sad that
Liberties are misunderstood
To mean oppressing a fellow human

I am appalled that
Justice is for sale at a price
Only the guilty can afford

I am angry that
Man is allowing racism deny him
The joy of joy, of cultural discovery

I am shocked that
Man is the most intelligent of all
Yet, busy destroying his civilization

I am uncomfortable that
The world is deliberately being steered
Towards onerous chaos and anarchy

I am so discouraged that
The future seems bleak despite
All the inventions, progress man is making

I am amazed that
We can read and write
But, yet can not think and understand

I am perturbed that
Darkess came before light. But look
We are now heading back to pre-history

Instead of advancing towards brilliance
The accursed is winning, taking all but a few
Can the wise save his soul and just one other?

(c)(r) 10122013 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved.


Written by Tijjani Muhammad Musa

Wow! What a day! 

I woke up at dawn, 4:45am or thereabout and prayed the Fajr Salat. 

Then donned my training kit and went for my weekend football game with our local club at a primary school nearby. By the way, did I inform you that we recently thrashed another club of younger boys who thought we could not measure up to them by 4 goal to 1? :) In fact, one of them promised his team a hat-trick against us or else he'd stop playing football for life. He lied and failed just like all liars do... Hehehehehe. Another boasted that they'll beat us by 6 goals to nothing. Naaah!

Then, as the game was about to start, one of our boys teased the referee that there are 12 of us againsttheir 11. Before the ref could answer, a striker of the opposing team interrupted, saying to the ref, "We are ok with that! Allow them, allow them! In fact, we permit them to add 1 more player, making their squad 13 against or our 11" and ran off full of enthusiasm. Well, they left the pitch with their tails between their legs! Pwuahahahahahaha!

After the training session, I went to our company sounds recording studio, The 3rd Millenium Studio and finished editing a special one hour packaged program about Freedom Radio 99.5FM 10th Year Anniversary. May be some of you guys heard it? It aired between 2:15-3:15pm. The first independent privately owned FM station in Northern Nigeria i.e. Freedom Radio, Kano just clocked 10 years of existence on December 1st, 2013. Our media organization SoundWord & Sight Communications Nigeria Limited was part of that journey as collaborative partners and so the need on our part to tell our side of the story.

Just when I was due to zap to Freedom House with the produced cd, an unexpected (this is Sunday) call was made for me to come to one of my construction sites by a client and supervise a piece of masonery works for a foundation being executed. Got there, briefly gave instructions and immediately took off for the radio house at Sharada like a bat out of hell as the popular saying goes.

Upon arrival, had the anniversary program aired and there after returned to the building site where I had to supervise the works to its correct construction specifications. Paid the workers and by then it was Magrib prayer time. Prayed at a mosque within the vicinity, then gave one of the labourers a lift as he was going towards my direction. Finally arrived home, famished. I was presented with my breakfast, what was left of my lunch and dinner. Hehehehe. The only meal I've had the opportunity of taking all day long was a fruit serving of bananas, oranges and water melon and that was by 4-5pm.

By the time I ate, all I could do is waste myself on the bed and barely got up to go and observe the Isha' salat. And when I returned and flopped back on the bed, the next time I woke up, it was my pressured bladder and the call to another Subh prayer that did it.

Typical day of a man doing his own thing... And alhamdulilLaah, I love it.

(c)(r) 2013 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved

Monday, December 2, 2013


... Written by Tijjani Muhammad Musa

One of the most open secrets that many fail to take advantage of is night standing, in salat. The benefits are so immense that they can not be quantified. Qiyamal layl as it is popularly called is recommended by Allaah Subhanahu Wa Ta'alah in several verses in the Quran, thus:

“They (the believers) forsake their beds, to invoke their Lord in fear and hope; and they spend out of what We have bestowed on them.” Soorah as-Sajdah 32: 16

“They (the pious) used to sleep but little at night.” Soorah ath-Thariyat (51): 17

And Allah's Prophet Muhammad (sallallahu alaihi wa-sallam) said: “The best prayer after those prescribed is (the prayer performed) in the depth of night.” [Saheeh Muslim and Musnad Ahmad]

Again in another hadith, he (sallallahu alaihi wa-sallam) also said: “The most beloved prayer to Allah was of Dawud (alaihi as-salaam). He slept one half of the night, got up (and prayed) for one third, and then slept (the remaining) one sixth.” [Saheeh al-Bukharee and Saheeh Muslim]

Numerous are the benefits of such night standing. We will mention them briefly; it protects one from satan, facilitates supplication acceptance, brings one close to Allah, is a means of earning Allah's Mercy and doing it regularly instill discipline in the night stander. However, the details of these are not what we want to highlight in this piece.

The similitude of the one who stands in the middle of the night for prayers, while others sleep is like that of a person in a place where water is extremely scarce, coming from one singular source during the day and at night. It runs free, undisturbed, non-stop whether it is collected or not. From this one source, everybody gets his daily supply of the precious liquid.

Many are the persons in the populace that need it and so they scramble, stampede and even fight for it. Some hurting themselves and each other in the process, loosing so much respect and becoming disgraceful while at it.

For those who choose to ignore collecting it that way, for free, in an effort to maintain their status and dignity, end up using their resources to purchase it at a very exorbitant price. And the need for this life companion resource is daily and so the demand for it is endless.

Now, on days the water comes in trickles or even briefly gets witheld from its one source, many who have not saved and stored their excess or extra for the proverbial rainy day, and can not afford to buy it at its costly offering tag end up begging, stealing, robbing or even killing for it.

But, for the man or woman who stands before his or her Lord, all alone in prayers in the midst of the night, it is like one who is at the water source, alone, when the water is at its purest, undisturbed flow, with no one else to struggle, compete or hinder his or her bountiful collection.

He first uses the water for his immediate satisfaction, then to meet all his daily needs and fetches some more, filling all his containers and finally letting it run to fill his underground reservoir.

By the time it is dawn and the first soul stirs back to life, he or she is fully done. And when the sun is up and the heat is on, the fetchers queue up, stretching and snaking far and long till the eyes can see.

Soon, patience starts to run out and words of anger and annoyance starts to criss-cross, before the ultimate grand finalé, the daily fistful engagements. The night stander watches pitifully and smile at their desperations.

All his calls for people to be orderly, falls on no ears. Where they do, deaf ears. And his sincere advice for self-sufficiency is unheeded and so the saga continues. Many wonder though how he is never seen in want of what they know everybody needs.

Interesting, isn't it?

So, be you a Night Stander.

(c)(r)2013 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved