…I just needed someone to help me first”


CIA Director Kendrick had his lucky break. Nikita already had her index finger to the trigger of a badass sniper rifle, and was already pulling it, before Fletcher and Birkhoff came through with the truth, one that changed the mission from termination to salvation. Percy and his “Division” had turned Kendrick into their puppet by implanting a kill chip in his heart, for which he gets to do as they order – or die.

Watched the American action thriller drama television series that aired on The CW from September 9, 2010, to December 27, 2013 – “Nikita”? Yea, I’m talking about Season 2, Episode 21.

As usual, the Nikita team (comprising Nikita, Alex, Michael, Birkhoff, Ryan, and Sean) came through for Kendrick. Whisked him underground to get him off the grid, thereby disconnecting Percy’s already activated kill trigger, and long enough for the wizardry Birkhoff to deactivate the chip. And he did.

What follows? Kendrick shares CIA intel with the Nikita team to facilitate their crusade against Percy and “Division.”

By the way, this piece isn’t some movie gist. Was just trying to whet your appetite enough to try some lockdown hours on the series. But there’s something really serious I like to share with you from the scene where Kendrick hands Nikita the flash drive, the intel. I already did, though. Read the title and subtitle of this piece again. That’s what he told them.

Although the context of the quote was that Kendrick first needed someone to get Percy’s kill chip off him before he could offer any form of anti-Percy help, what he said is just the way it is. You want help? Get out there and get helping people. Helping you back is the easy part.

Your No.1 fan,



< as my friend goes back to school >

One of the things you’d notice on stepping into my room is that the wardrobe is dotted with sticky notes. Quite a number of them. None of them is about motivational quotes. Some of them are about top priority deliverables. And the ones closest to my heart are those on which are written ambitious statements picked up from books and movies or shared with me by friends.

A new sticky note that simply reads “Why Not?” went up there yesterday. Funnily, it was written out and stuck up there while on a call with a priest-friend in a faraway continent. I’d told him I needed to stick those words to my wardrobe lest I forget to do so afterwards. And for about 24hrs that it’s lasted there, you can’t imagine how much time I’ve spent gazing at it, making it my own.

Where did Father get that, and why am I taking it this personally? The name “Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum” rings a bell? The Vice President and Prime Minister of the United Arab Emirates and Ruler of Dubai, and author of the mindblowing “My Vision,” and the brain behind the Dubai reinvention.

So, Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum credits all his sterling accomplishments and unusual discoveries, including the Dubai miracle, to having always asked himself one question: “Why not?” A question that has helped him defy odds, blaze trails, and rebuild his country for global relevance. When Father came across the man and his ideals, he copied him for himself and is well on his way to reinventing his priesthood. While we decry 5G, he wants to run his ministry on it. And he’s back to school to learn how to do that himself.

So, I ask you: Why not?

Only those who dare to ask why not get to learn that nothing is impossible.

Your No.1 fan,



Like many out there, and you may be on that table, having to be born into poverty turned out my biggest motivation. You really don’t need to be told how evil poverty is; that goddamn thing beats you into sheets, so finely that you struggle to recognize yourself. And there’s no better time to see what poverty can do as now; while the rich can afford to stay home and watch the world burn for as long as it gets to, the poor suffer want and stay hungry as long as it lasts. And sadly ever after.

Once I’d shared that Malcolm Gladwell’s “David and Goliath” saved my life, but didn’t get to say why. Here’s why: In that Bible story, and Gladwell’s powerful commentary on it, even the poorest of the poor would come to realize that everyone stands a chance at finishing strong in life. More on Gladwell some other time.

This piece is about the four (4) lessons I picked from the original story of David and Goliath, as recorded in 1 Samuel 17, lessons that preachers often overlook – and Gladwell didn’t cover in his book. These lessons promise to help us make the most of the changing times:

1. Be clear what’s in it for you: When David arrived the camp and found that everything was at stake, that even the king and his warlords were at their wits’ end, he wasn’t so carried away by his desire (and ability) to save the day that he failed to do the needful: be clear about what he stood to gain from cutting down Goliath. More than once he’d ask, and twice was told the bounty on Goliath’s head: a. the king’s daughter, b. great wealth, c. family exemption from taxes. Always be clear about what you stand to gain. If you ain’t sure, kindly don’t hesitate to ask.

2. Beware of the envy of family (and friends): Sadly, it was his very own brother, blood, that first called him out. Recall that in the chapter immediately preceding this episode, 16, this same Eliab was thought by Samuel to be the Lord’s anointed – and God rejected him. And there he was talking down and abusing his youngest brother, David, trying to dissuade him from such a destiny-altering move. Need I say more? Beware of family and friends; more enemies are known to come from those quarters than elsewhere.

3. Saul wears David his amour: Can you imagine that? After David refuses to be dissuaded from the move, and now realizing that the ‘only’ available option has to be given a try, Saul, the king, takes off his clothes and wears them on David. Wow! Fact, when you bring value to the table, even the high and mighty gets to make space for you; they give you whatever you need in return.

4. Don’t dress in borrowed robes: However regal Saul’s amour was, David just couldn’t fit in; he wasn’t used to that sort of stuff. He takes them off and goes back to normal: shepherd dress, staff, and sling. And filing out against Goliath from his comfort zone saw him winning fair and square. So much talk about leaving your comfort zone; you need wisdom to know when to operate from there.


This is beautiful writing isn’t it? My brand is sophisticated simplicity; the goal is no dictionary. You like me to show you how I do the magic? Then sign up for my upcoming training here: bit.ly/writingexpo2ad

Your No. fan,



There is no iota of doubt that religion, as we know it, is a problem to humankind. History is replete with countless inhumanities perpetrated in the name of God. And the tug of war between Islam and Christianity for many centuries now (even among the thousands of Christian denominations) leaves much to be desired. Which, of course, informs why there’s ongoing crusade to relegate religion to the background – and even to eliminate it altogether. China is a case in point.

Why is it that the typical Christian, for instance, no matter how intellectually sophisticated, just looses and loses his or her mind in the face of any claim that includes ‘God’? Why is it that this piece is probably already making you uncomfortable, leaving you wishing that I don’t ride it south, of which you already have a readymade comment, like “Cornel, be careful what you write about God,” or outrightly sentence me to hell? Why is it that when the man or woman of God says “God told me” or “The Bible says” we suddenly become so docile that we score F in Reason 101. After the word Allah, Quran, or the Prophet, the next thing you say or do gets to decide what a Muslim will do to you – and all options are usually on the table.

I am a Christian myself and I take God really seriously. But I’m crazy enough to know that most things that happen in church have little, or even nothing to do with God. Some of the things happening there are simply strategies to grow the church business itself, to cover overhead cost. Some of the things happening there serve the whims and caprices of the man or woman of God, to climb them up Maslow’s pyramid. And you should know when it’s no longer your own business, at what point you should feel free to walk.

Frankly, and I’m not kidding you, some of the things being fired at you from the pulpit, some of which get to be coded as doctrines, are nothing but expressions of the man or woman of God’s limited knowledge on a subject-matter or an outright brandishing of his or her ignorance. Here, “God,” “Allah” “Bible,” “Quran,” “the Prophet” become mere words used to arm the bomb of ignorance being fired at you.

Anyway, let me stop here.

Free advice: You see that thing between your ears, the grey matter we’ve come to call brains… Remember that you didn’t put it there yourself. I think the guy who put it there wants you to use it. I mean, whatever doesn’t make basic sense may not be sensible after all. Canal minds don’t understand the things of the spirit, right? If not your head, then just make sure your spirit bears witness to what is been fed you in the spirit.

One last word: Don’t let anyone use the word “God” to screw you.

Your No.1 fan,



< yet another thanks to ONOYIMA >

As provincial president, I didn’t quite think of myself as “President of Presidents” until Amechi Martha started calling me by that title – even went on to popularize it. That was what I was at the time, the President of the presidents and secretaries of the 44 chapters comprising my privince, Onitsha. As it were, the Provincial Executive Council, PEC, was made up of my crew and I (the Provincial Executive Committee), and then the presidents and secretaries of all those chapters.

One of the items on our meetings’ agenda, usually the penultimate one, is what was called “Account of Stewardship” – a sacred ritual in which we all jointly scrutinized the activities of an out-going administration of any chapter, with the admittance of the succeeding administration to the council premised on the approval of the said account. Of course, I get to call the final shot; I get to send one back to redo the entire thing, secure a chaplain’s signature, clarify stuff, effect important corrections, etc. I could guess, at the time, that rendering an account of stewardship must have felt like being on trial for some of them, as some of the questions that get to be asked were characteristically savage.

Until it was my turn. How it works is that I get to be answerable to a higher council, the National Executive Council, NEC, where the secretary and I were only members. November 13, 2013 was the date, Tansian University the place, and I was standing before the council to report what I’d done with and for my province over a period of 27 months. Naturally, I’d have made mistakes here and there, and then was a good day to be messed up by whomever had scores to settle with me. Being star boy of the house and biggest donor at the time, I was prep for possible surprises.

Guess what? The very first response came from the provincial chaplain of Calabar that year, Fr. Ebong, who had seen nothing on his copy of my report but Onoyima’s signature. Interestingly, he happens to have been Onoyima’s student during his seminary days, and got to spending a great deal of minutes convincing everyone that a report signed by Onoyima must be flawless. He goes on and on to painting a picture of the man as epitome of thoroughness and excellence. And the National Chaplain continued from where Fr. Ebong stopped – in praise of Onoyima. Funnily, I got to spending the entire time receiving encomiums for a job well-done, and having to be asked such exotic questions as how we were able to have done so well with so little resources at our disposal.

The referees on your CV, the guarantors on your forms, who are they? That day, I learned that it can make all the difference.

Your No. fan,

PS. Did you notice how I was able to make a big deal out of a pen that ran out? You should sign up for my training to learn some more: bit.ly/writingexpo2ad