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Monday, 30 December 2013

How to Make the Year Count in 24 Hours

As a secondary school student in the 90s, the Year 2000 looked very far away and mythical. Songs and ideas were created around this extraordinary year. The new millennium became a regular feature in everyday conversations, movies, books, news contents etc. It looked look it’d indeed birth a newly evolved human race.
The Year 2000 came, and in less than 48 hours, some of the children born that year will be celebrating or getting ready to celebrate their 14th birthday. It is hard to imagine that that mythical year has since come and we are some 14 years on the right side of its X axis.

How did 2000 change to 2001, 2002…2007 and now we’d be writing 2014! This to me is crazy and Time is certainly up to some pranks. Where have all these years gone?

That is close to the question many will be asking when December 2014 arrives, “where have all these months gone?” Just look at 2013, it started like it would take a while to get to February as January dragged, then February eventually came and it looked like March wouldn’t come early enough, and just as one was asking “what month is it?” December 2013 was the answer and you had to wonder if 2013 was in a race to be the fastest year ever. Time certainly plays pranks on one. Maybe it doesn’t, maybe we are the ones who play these pranks on ourselves.

Many of us take things with levity believing it is a New Year; some of us draft resolutions at the beginning to guide us through the year. Most of those are broken before the ides of January. Why would anyone wait till the January of a New Year to correct a fault they saw needed correcting the previous year?

It certainly must have everything to do with us thinking some months are more important than the others or that some days are better suited for certain things than the other. That, of course, is not true, as each day has the same potential for greatness and disaster. It is all in the 24 hours. The difference is what we give into each one. Ralph Waldo Emerson summed it up when he said, "shallow men believe in luck or in circumstance. Strong men believe in cause and effect."

As 2014 dawns, we must understand that it is not the beginning of anything new, and save an opportunity to mark our days, life is a continuum. The first day of the year has no better value than the two hundredth day. The value is in what we put into it and the opportunities we are able to recognize and maximize. It is very fine to write goals and targets for each year at the end of another but those who set daily goals and meet them are more likely to achieve their yearly goals than those who wait till the last week of December to set their big goals for the New Year.

Success is in the details. We are better off celebrating the dawn of a new day than that of a New Year. That is not to say you should spare the chickens on New Year’s Day. One is only saying, until we learn to see the value and power in 24 hours, we will never truly appreciate the essence of a year.

It felt creepy as the tick of the clock got louder as this line got written. The movement of time never stops and it never slows or even hastens, it just moves forward. That sound is the indication of one more second added to one’s time on this aged planet and one more second taken away from one’s scheduled time here.

As many Nigerians troop to the religious houses for the “cross over” prayers, one needs to remind them that those prayers will never be enough. As long as we don’t understand the value of a day, we’d never truly maximize the value of a year. When 2014 starts, our obsession should not be about having a great year; it should be about each day that makes the year. If you make each day count, the year would naturally count. Happy New Day!

Top Albums of 2013

It is harder with each year to gauge the cultural impact of albums. For instance, would Tuface’s solo debut, “Face 2 Face”, have the same significance in 2013 as it had back then?
It is a great album, but I can only say “Yes, it would,” with ambivalence. The fact is I am not sure.

And it is not for reasons limited to an increasingly crowded musical industry that has made it difficult to sort the merely mediocre from the talent-less. If anything, the influx of wannabes has made the stature of hardworking musicians more substantial— there is nothing quite as ego boosting, for a good artist, as comparison with an inferior practitioner. What it has not done, however, is increase the variety of music on offer. So far, our singers— both the battle-worn and the one-hit wonders—rely on formula proven again and again to draw listeners.

In 2013, the main reason for the album’s dwindling relevance is the internet aided rise of the single.

With the blessing and curse of the internet, the album’s role as a product encapsulating and unifying a musician’s viewpoints, verses and vocabulary— hopefully in melody— for her audience has mostly been overtaken by the single. Released over the internet and broadcast by several blogs, to be downloaded by thousands, a single track by an artiste can have a shelf life of many months, rendering questions about a debut or sophomore effort needless.

Today, albums can be released and allowed to disappear as long as a single or several singles can still be heard in clubs. For artists who have complained about not selling units, and depending on concerts for revenue, this is mostly good news, as the current paradigm frees the artist from investing in promoting an album only for pirates to reap more from his effort.

If the idea that an artist can only be known by the album is contestable, it is mostly incontrovertible that it is the single that has more currency in today’s pop culture. Ask anyone today if R&BW means anything, you are likely to be met with a blank stare. Alter the question, substituting Yes/No for the acronym and you are likely to be rewarded by a hum of the Banky W song from his R&BW album. Today’s fans can recite lyrics and name perhaps more than half a dozen of songs by Davido but may be unaware of his album’s title or perplexed by the fact of its existence.

Is it a sign of the times since as Nigerian music withdraws from chronicling the personal, descending instead into the celebratory excesses of success, the single, with its brief ephemera constitution, reflects the fleeting glories of material conquests? The country is in thrall of instant gratification, wealth, fame— why should the music industry be different?

But it isn’t just a Nigerian thing. It is the state of things worldwide. The album’s existence is now defined by a hit single around which lesser songs are arranged.
Apart from having a physical product to sell, the artiste releasing an album today may do so for vanity since it is only from such a collection that his approach to making music can be discerned and discussed. In other words, the album has become more a theoretical tool than a pragmatic one. Give Caesar’s to Caesar: critics may dissect the album; fans may devour the singles.

The emphasis on singles has accorded ubiquity and relevance to the most unlikely group of all: mix-tape makers. Compacts discs having many songs from several artists have become ubiquitous over the last few years, making mix-tape creators strange merchants of musical tastes. The album, traditionally songs by one artist or band, has been supplanted by the ‘deejay’ mix convening several artists in a sort of meta-album, a consensus by an individual with access to an audio media player.

The problem with this reality is its tyranny, the idea that one list fits all. This ‘deejay’ responsible for a certain mix insists you have to listen to, say, Wizkid’s 'Azonto' after Iyanya’s 'Flavour' and MayD’s “Get Down” just before Omawumi’s 'If You Ask Me.' These mix-discs represent the tyranny of radio without the concomitant pleasure of surprise. In fact, the ones that become popular, blaring from a stall in Wuse and from a bus in Port Harcourt are the antithesis of surprise— by the fifth encounter, the listener can tell the next song, preparing to be swept away again by the familiarity or steel herself to go through the motions.

***
What makes the albums released in a particular year relevant, important?
Popularity? Artistic excellence? Capturing the zeitgeist? For the first it can hardly be argued that that does play a role; pop music after all is short for popular music. Artistic excellence is tricky; one’s art is another’s trash.

To capture the zeitgeist, we may look to, as we discuss songs with lyrics, a linguistic embodiment of the time. Here again, the single bests the album in urgency and singers are complicit as songs best summing up a point in time may be available only on the internet, on radio and not in an album. For example, ‘setting p’ became a catchphrase, and led to a Banky W song of same title; that song did not make the R&BW album.

Other songs with popular appeal like Wizkid’s “Jaiye Jaiye,” may not make his sophomore’s track listing. Waje released “17” and the excellent “Omini Knowest.” Both songs are not on the 'Words Are Not Enough' album. Wande Coal has been releasing songs without an album since “Mushin 2 Mohits.” The list goes on.

Still there is hope for the album, at least if we look beyond our shores. That hope comes in the voluptuous shape of Beyonce, who has just released a self titled album thematically united and cohesive despite sonic experimentations. Dubbed a ‘visual album’ it comes with videos for each song making it unnecessary to release a video for any one single later on.

Luckily, Beyonce— the album— has done commercially well so far, even without the usual single before album release. Released suddenly, its sales have been buoyed by rare but effective non-publicity publicity, where the shock of her subversion of conventional promotional patterns has been enough to drive fans to websites and stores.

From that sign from the west, the album, it appears, will survive.

It wasn’t an especially great year for music as it is still stuck in lyrics offering tired lines about sex and cash, offering more mileage in clubs than in homes. Things can only get better.

Here are the 2013’s best, arranged alphabetically.

THE LIST

'Chapter One': Sometimes the best pop music is frivolous fun, a song, an album of danceable melodies without much thought given to lyrics. The trick is not to try too hard: can the artist make the thoughtless effortless? For Mr MayD, the answer is a resounding yes. Song after song on “Chapter One” is packed with sweet and senseless singing.

Save for a funny French line on “So Many Tinz,” the language of Chapter One is unpretentious; Pidgin, Yoruba and Yoruba-accented English all find a place. And the music is rooted in the rhythms of 90s. A lot of time has passed since then for the appeal of his music to depend on nostalgia of a certain kind. Nevertheless there is novelty in the album arrangement that sees one song flow into the next without a stretched pause so it is unmistakably dance-themed.

'Chapter One' doesn’t announce the arrival of a good songwriter or even a great voice. But as Sasha Frere-Jones has noted, “Pop ...as a primarily recorded form ... doesn’t reward the most gifted players. The song is the thing.”

'JagzNation': Jesse Jagz returned this year with an intoxicant and an often intoxicating new sound. Fortunately, the pleasure of the latter matched the surprise of the former. Two of the album’s best tracks combine both concerns well and are named accordingly: “Burning Bush” and “Sativa.”

The straight-faced sex song, “Sex and Scotch” and the revolutionary “Redemption” display his other interests. “JagzNation” isn’t the first time ideas of sex and revolution have been conflated. But it is certainly the most recent to succeed.

'Lasso of Truth': Omawumi wasn’t quite the wonder woman on her sophomore— see last Metropole last quarter for review. But in a year with few good albums especially in comparison with the rudderless 'Once Upon A Time' by Tiwa Savage, 'Lasso of Truth' sneaks in. The albums quality is helped with the inclusion of the relatively old songs, 'If You Ask Me' and aged 'Bottom Belle.'

The one new song with redoubtable merit is the sober 'Stay Alive (Jeje Laiye).' It is inspirational without being cheesy and sees Omawumi rein her vocal excess in service of a worthy song. It is a shame the song with its video— released late 2012— has not received enough attention.

'L.I.F.E': Most of what you need to know about Burna Boy’s debut is stated by his granddad, Benson Idonijie, former manager for Fela and columnist for The Guardian newspaper, who phones in his endorsement. Among other things, he says his grandkid has done well and his music has ‘leanings in jazz.’ This last is influenced by his own personal taste as he writes a column about Jazz for the Guardian newspaper.

There is just the one song. It is to our advantage Burna Boy has incorporated other sounds into his music. The real genius in the album may be the producer, Leriq, with whom Burna Boy has an absolute chemistry. 'Like to Party,' 'Smooth Sailing' and both 'Intro' and 'Outro' are pleasing. And LIFE marks a grand arrival.

'R&BW': Banky W showed up this year covering ground familiar to anyone who has ever listened to an R.Kelly LP. He even takes the American’s penchant moral crisis, bookending his third album with an inspirational and somewhat Christian song. While it is less dance-ready than the EME compilation album of 2012, it is less evasive in its approach to the carnal. And Banky W hasn’t lost the ability to craft a memorable hook.

'Words Are Not Enough': Two words: Waje’s voice. It isn’t often lovers of Nigerian music are treated to a great voice and a singer willing to indulge it. On 'Words Are Not Enough,' Waje indulges her voice repeatedly which would be grating if she wasn’t so competent, so sure. She may claim words are not enough in the title, but, of course, she is being facetious. Because if the words sung oh so beautifully on 'Black and White,' 'Ijeoma' and 'I Wish' are not enough, we all should shudder at what it would take to satisfy this gifted chanteuse.

Sunday, 22 December 2013

Time for Us to Play the Proud Damsel

My thinking can be faulted but I cannot be faulted for thinking. Not like I had to really think much about this current tidal wave sweeping Nigerian politics though. Since 1999, we've never really had mainstream political parties that were bound by ideology; we've only had parties bound by the selfish interests of most of the individuals involved.

Despite these interests, never in the history of the country has our politics been defined not as much by the desires of the main actors for power for self or region as it is about preventing the re-election of an incumbent. Forget the names of the main political parties in Nigeria today, as all the major parties are united by a common theme: Goodluck Jonathan.

The politics of 2015 is not as much a politics of the People's Democratic Party and the All Progressives Congress as it is about the politics of those who want President Jonathan to continue post-2015 and those who want him out, latest by the 29th of May 2015. Note that there is nothing to say they don't want him out even before then.

The President, it would seem, has provided a platform for his antagonists to unite and the strings of their unity is cutting across several political fabrics. When you see pictures of Gen. Ibrahim Babangida and Gen. Muhammadu Buhari smiling at the camera after what you'd have to believe was a successful attempt at forming alliances and pictures of Gen. Olusegun Obasanjo and Asiwaju Bola Tinubu just feet from each other, just days after the former had accused the latter of compromising his own political party in the 2011 elections, you just know the political dynamics indicate the president may be swimming against a major political tidal wave by the time the elections come in 2015.

This is not something to excite the ordinary Nigerian. It may look like change but it is only a movement within concentric circles. The centre has not changed; it is still about the interest of the elites and not that of the people. For instance, take the exchange of letters between President Goodluck Jonathan and ex-President Obasanjo, you’d see that to these supposed leaders it is much more about personal interests than about the interest of the country.

Chief Obasanjo blatantly accused the current President of things he, Obasanjo, was guilty of as president. Many have said one must take the message and ignore the messenger but in this instance, Chief Obasanjo isn’t only the messenger, he is the essence of the message, and he is the message itself.

As for the president, one needs not look too hard to know he is probably the biggest reason impunity has become the order of the day. Corruption is very much comfortable in our country and as long as the president continues to pretend this is not the case, we will continue to read about these shameful stolen funds day in and out.

Both the president and his former godfather are the reason we are in this mess. The very first of the duo to admit his role in this mess will come out the less of two evils. The president on his own part is bound to be distracted from the business of Nigeria in 2014 as he battles for his political future. 2014 looks like a wasted year before it has even started. Nigerians of course are part of the mess either as active participants or as passive conspirators.

APC looked like it would be the one reason Nigerians can hope again. But APC has since shown it wants to play the game according to the dictate of the elites and power brokers. You can’t blame them for that but you cannot at the same time look at people like us and say APC is the change Nigerians desire.

May be it will take on that form sometime but it is increasingly looking like what Nigerians used to fear: the old gang that decimated our people’s destiny. You can’t blame them too much, politicians are about power, leaders are about change. Some politicians are leaders and some leaders are politicians but being one doesn’t equate to being the other.

At this point, our people must avoid taking sides. We are far from having a people’s party. Forget the Labour Party, it is a joke. But it is not too late to influence the political process. It is not too late to make our voices count. We cannot continue to wait for 2015 when our country is daily rotting away. Our first mistake will be to make it easy for any of these parties. Nigerians must learn to be the proud damsel.

Wednesday, 18 December 2013

Do They Really Know It Is Christmas?

A friend of mine, British, says she misses Christmas. Apparently at this time of the year over there the celebration of the birth of baby Jesus stalks the atmosphere. And if you look hard enough every home may begin to acquire the rundown glory of that famous manger.

Now she’s relocated to Nigeria, to Abuja, and all of that anticipation, that boundless glee is gone.

“Maybe it is the snow,” I suggest.

She disagrees. It isn’t just that. Some other element, intangible mostly, is absent. She doesn’t quite feel the gaiety. The discussion takes a while, like arguments with an ineffable core do, and then I, too, begin to agree with her.

But other than the incessant films featuring Caucasians travelling to some resort and forgetting a kid in New York, or African-Americans surrounding a cookout, what exactly am I comparing this unsurprising lack of reindeer to? One word: childhood? Another: Abuja?

Both?

Childhood seems so far away the spirit of Christmases past so far gone, they are exactly what the word means: ghosts. And I struggle to hold on to a particular one childhood memory that may convey the expectation and express why the feeling of loss is acute.

But what exactly is it about Christmas anyway? There are debates as to its relevance and on television, foreign television that is— Nigerian television has more worries— debates go on about the secularisation of Christmas, the removal of Christ from Christmas, the merchandising. And in some ways that is exactly what this is about. Otherwise it should be sufficient to embark on a pilgrimage, the short version of which would be the trip to church to ponder on the dilemma of life and the afterlife. After all, it is a religious festival.

Fortunately, (or perhaps unfortunately,) the world is caught up in the celebration: from shylock banks to exorbitant restaurants, to indecent drinking holes, there are Christmas lights; while telephone networks, terrible wherever you go, send text messages in the middle of the night urging you to download a Christmassy song, or furnish your callers with same. You wouldn’t bet against a hooker wearing a fluffy red and white hat, dispensing un-Christian gifts to customers without considering race or religion.

The idea of a Christmas for all is so ingrained that accompanying friends in taking photos of Christmas decorations (which the reader would find elsewhere on this site,) I half expected to see the dome of the omnipresent National Mosque immersed in its majesty with some lights too.

The celebration of Christmas a week to the end of the year seems like a coup for Christians— even the unbeliever may take stock of his year, his happiness at surviving approximating that of the believer. Whatever difference may exist, religious joy isn’t so much different from irreverent gladness. And Wizkid and Jingle Bells may be played together.

For Abuja, but for banks, it is entirely possible to not realise it is Christmas. They own the many coloured lights reflecting on asphalt at night; as Christmas gets closer scowling tellers would adorn their heads with Santa’s caps and if you’re lucky, the scowls may be replaced with faked jollity. But we will take it. Without them December and June would not differ, and the famed joy to the world would remain a song lyric, lacking in concreteness and atmosphere.

Over here, like elsewhere, Christmas becomes a marketing convenience. You get the feeling if one bank forgets to switch on dancing lights, others may not bother either. But it is a contest, a contest Zenith Bank branches easily win, pity the lights don’t quite come on till after work hours. Perhaps that in itself is symbolic: the niceties are not for customers, but for the bank's image. There is no establishment as unashamedly capitalist as banks. They send you, and everyone else, a birthday text. They become Christians in December. They become Muslims by Sallah. In between, they maintain an easy atheism.

Nevertheless, it isn’t enough. Institutions like banks do not reach out to you driving around the city, or in your office or even at home. Christmas as an adult insists you find your own happiness: in your job, in your kids, in your continued perpetuation of the species.

Abuja, Scrooge-like, does not encourage the season. You will be dreaming of a white Christmas at your harmattaned peril. What else is there to say for a city, where the most impressive collection of lights this season, unchanged throughout the year, is along the Kubwa and Airport expressways where streetlights go on for a distance, throwing parabolic leaps in the sky, defying darkness?

Thus the difference, to my British friend, is a genial insistence versus a weary nonchalance: Cheery London says, "Merry Christmas," or else.

Chilly Abuja hisses, "Merry Christmas," or not.

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

The Sunday Stunt Show

Street car-racing is indeed a spectacle, but not for the faint-hearted, writes Joshua Ocheja

The time was 5pm; venue, Tafawa Balewa Way in Central Business District. A gaggle of mostly young males gathered on both sides of the road in front of and on top of parked cars. The crowd was growing by the minute. Without saying it, everyone expected something to happen, and they waited with bated breath, eyeing every passing car with suspicion. The anxiety in the air was high.

Then a metallic blue car driven by a young man in his early 20s appeared out of nowhere at neck-breaking speed, headlights on and music blaring out of its speakers. Immediately after the car went past Ceddi Plaza, the driver slammed on the brakes so hard that the car skidded around in a series of choreographed circles. The omce still, anxiety-laden air erupted into sounds of screeching, smoke, and a pungent smell of burning tyres. A whorl of fresh tyre-tracks became imprinted like tattoos on the tarmac.

“The show has started!” a lady screamed.

The crowd recovered its breath and broke into applause.

This is the Abuja Stunt Show, a free car-racing competition where the sons (and recently daughters) of the rich and the mighty showcase their expertise in dare-devil driving to an appreciative crowd almost every Sunday. Since starting a few years ago, the street car-racing has gone through different mutations and locations. It is a heart-in-your-mouth spectator sport that is becoming a regular feature of the city, despite spirited efforts by security officers to stop it.

There is no take-off time, and part of its mystique is the uncertainty about whether the show will take place at all. Off-days are usually signified by the heavy presence of security-men—from police to road safety officers. The drivers and spectators will normally lie low for a while; then resurface at a later date.

It is said that there is an underground network for passing information across about the resumption of the Sunday spectacle. However, most drive-by spectators figure out the show will happen when they see other people gathering from around 4pm. They join the crowd and wait. Sometimes, they wait in vain. Sometimes, they are lucky. On show-days, there is no official flag-off. All that is needed is for a driver to be bold enough to bell the cat.

What follows afterwards is a wild jostle for the attention and adulation of the crowd, with stunt drivers taking turns to outdo one another, re-acting scenes that could have been straight out of Fast and Furious or from the best of James Bond movies. There are some regular stunt drivers, mostly youngsters who come prepared to titillate the crowd and impress their fans, especially their girlfriends. Most of the drivers are in their teens or early twenties. Sometimes, they are two or more in a car, and they perform their stunts mostly without seat-belts. Occasionally, however, enthusiastic spectators also join in the race, either moved by the spirit or egged on by revellers. Some people also take advantage of captive audience to showcase their exotic cars.

There are no entry rules. But there are self-caution rules: your car must be in good shape, likewise your tyres. It is said that some of the drivers buy new tyres for each show. No official prize is given, but the crowd makes a mental note of the best stunt of the day and does the judging with side comments and applause. The more breath-taking the stunt, the bigger the exclamation and applause. Mediocre performances are either ignored or booed.

The crowd is mostly young and male, but is an assortment of fun-seekers with high-risk thresholds, including a few children, a good dose of finely-dressed females, some passers-by who just couldn’t resist the spectacle, and a few expats.

But it’s not an all-fun, risk-free show. Legitimate road users are sometimes pushed off the road or forced to wait, and mishaps do happen, resulting in damaged cars, crushed limbs and even lost lives. This is the reason security-men are always eager to break up the party and why the stunt drivers and their spectators continue to play hide-and-seek.

While some believe such a dangerous pastime should be banned and violators prosecuted, some think otherwise. “What the government should do is to provide a conducive space and regulate the race,” says Muyiwa Odele, a regular spectator. “People derive fun from participating in and watching this. Banning it is ridiculous. A more creative approach will be to make it one of the major attractions of the city, organize it properly, and make people pay to enter. People come here because they are fun-starved.”

A rare sports car on display

Car stunts

Crowds gather outside Ceddi Plaza to watch

Motorcycle stunts

A stunt driver brakes violently in a cloud of smoke

My 'Maiguard' is Getting Married

Our 'maiguard' has one of those faces that are neither old nor young: he could be 18; he could be 38. Small in stature and speaking a dialect of Hausa that baffles us, Aminu is a good, if absent-minded guard.

I remember when he first arrived from Zaria straight to our house. He was hunched and hesitant, with overgrown hair and a furtive, haunted look in his eyes. He used to grunt to alert you to his presence, and he had a permanent scowl on his face.

But after a few months with us, he became more self-assured, got regular hair-cuts, wore the clothes we gave him with pride and stood taller. He even replaced his grunts with words; it was like seeing the blossoming of a flower.

Soon he started cooking for himself and made friends with the other guards in the estate, and he smiled and laughed more. Even his brand of Hausa became more familiar to us.

Yet he remained our lowly, trust-worthy 'maiguard' until he told us of his intentions to return to his native Zaria to get married. I was surprised. So Aminu, this young (or old, we still couldn’t ascertain his actual age-range) man who opens and closes our gate, weeds the yard, washes the cars and does other necessary work around the house for which we paid him an agreeable amount, wanted to get married?

He said that the girl had already been chosen for him by his family. She was the sister of a girl he had been dating previously, but that girl had been given out in marriage to another man when Aminu came to Abuja, so his family had accepted her sister for him.

I remember entering his messy 'maiguard' house to the left of the gate to drop something for him, and on the floor was a picture of a light-skinned young woman wrapped in a red-veil from head to toe. She was lying down on her side and stared blankly at the camera. So when Aminu said he’d never met his bride-to-be but had been sent her picture, my mind recalled the girl in red.

She was rather pretty, I thought. Will she be pleased with Aminu, a diminutive man/boy with a semi-permanent scowl? He told us her bride-price was N70,000 and he’d been saving up for months for her. I wondered if N70,000 was considered the price for a top-drawer maiden in rural Zaria.

Last week, Aminu left to get married. I could sense his excitement as he said farewell to us. But he’ll come back soon, as his family has advised him to return to Abuja after marriage because there are no jobs in their community.

But he won’t be bringing his wife. So after a few days in Zaria, during which time he would not only meet his bride for the first time, but would have married her, he would bid farewell to his life-partner for a few months until he returned to Zaria again. Aminu will return a married man.

I wondered if, nine months later, Mrs Aminu would have a baby. Would Aminu still stay on in Abuja? Will he take on more wives? Can he look after a family on his modest 'maiguard' wages?

Monday, 16 December 2013

National Youth Games End with Cross Rivers Overall Winner

As the National youths games came to a close yesterday, Cross Rivers emerged as this year's overall winner, with Akwa Ibom as the first runner up and Delta the second runner up.

The highlight of the games was the relay finals, with Cross Rivers states winning the Gold medal in the Girls race, which was presented by the president of the Local organizing committee Engr. Sani Ndanusa. Kwara state won Gold for the boys and their medals was presented to them by the Sports Minister and Chairman of National sports commission, Mallam Bolaji Abdullahi.

At a brief press conference held at the closing ceremony yesterday, the Minister hailed the games a success and said it was not about the medals won, but rather it was a platform for the athletes to commence their sporting careers.

“I have been told that three hundred and seventy new talent were discovered, a demonstration of what’s possible to work together in a common objective” he said.

“We are excited to see the determination and fairness and the true spirit of sportsmanship that all athletes displayed throughout the event. Already the federations are ready to invite the discovered talent into their games to prepare for the next Olympics.”

He also addressed the problem with accommodation for the athletes and said the issue will be dealt with appropriately in time for the next games.

To end the games, the Nigerian Service Civil Defence Corps performed the national anthem to rousing applause from the spectators.