Whenever any political election is coming up in any of the two countries I believe to belong to, I feel very frustrated and sometimes even more, especially now that it has to do with my native country. And I know not to be the only one. This my unconfortable state of mind is caused by the inability of most of us residing abraod to participate fully in the political lives of these countries we consider ours. In Italy, foreigners are not even allowed to participate at the administrative levels, no matter the number of years stayed.
I believe that the right to vote, being a civic right, is one of the most important of all rights ever, and for one to spend a great percentage his life span not having the opportunity to esersice it could somehow distabilize his sense of belonging.
We nigerians abroad are always obliged to accepting any leader, often not cherished by us, after each election without having any possibility to contest it democratically, by vote.
In the past, I had always envied those western counteries that extends this basic right to their citizens abroad, hoping that one day our democracy will also be able to give us this recognition.
Recently, I have noticed that many other countries have adhered to this nobel practice. These countries like Perù, Philippines, Senegal and even Gabon, with respect, are not to be considered of a superior civility compared to our Nigeria. But for now, we seem to be contented with those big titles like: the president or the secretary of this or that political party abroad, and often exchanging it for chieftancy titles that have become very rampant!
It is quite unfortunate that some of our respectable associations abroad (the Nigerian comunity, the Nidoe, etc.) have not seen this to be an important issue to battle on. Of course, it might not be a priority in a country with bundles and bundles of problems, but I believe that the earlier we start talking about it, the better for our children and the future emigrants.
This kind of active involvemente, could be, undoubtedly, an effective means of getting our people interested in the happenings at home, participating in them and reintegrating back into our societies there.
May God bless you all!
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
(www.blessingchildren.org)
sabato 24 febbraio 2007
giovedì 22 febbraio 2007
Oltre l'eternità
Anni perduti quelli trascorsi prima
d'incontrarti
La solitudine, il vuoto e la noia erano gli unici
componenti del mio essere
La ricerca esasperata del senso della mia vita
sembrava infinita
Non sapevo fossi tu il mio codice segreto
per ricominciare a vivere.
La mia rabbia con il mio creatore è stata enorme
Il perché per la mia penitenza rimane tuttora
inesaudita
Ma in consolazione ho te... l'unica ragione della mia vita
E poco sapevo che nessun risarcimento potesse superare
il tuo amore.
Devono ancora inventare la parola per definire quello che provo per te
Nullità qualificherebbe la mia esistenza
in assenza di te
Sei tu l'unica fonte della felicità che conosco
E sarebbe meglio chiedermi cosa non farei per te... nulla.
Ti ho già prenotato in cielo per la mia prossima vita
Ho chiesto al mio destino di seguirti fin dal primo giorno
I miei angeli combatteranno contro ogni forza che
tenterà d'interferire
E rinuncerò di rinascere se la mia richiesta non sarà accolta.
Ma cercherò comunque di strapparti dalle mani di Dio
Sono molto sicuro che Egli si arrabbierà tanto con me,
Ma credo che capirà perché un essere umano non si crea incompleto
E io senza di te non sarò che una piccola frazione di un uomo!
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
d'incontrarti
La solitudine, il vuoto e la noia erano gli unici
componenti del mio essere
La ricerca esasperata del senso della mia vita
sembrava infinita
Non sapevo fossi tu il mio codice segreto
per ricominciare a vivere.
La mia rabbia con il mio creatore è stata enorme
Il perché per la mia penitenza rimane tuttora
inesaudita
Ma in consolazione ho te... l'unica ragione della mia vita
E poco sapevo che nessun risarcimento potesse superare
il tuo amore.
Devono ancora inventare la parola per definire quello che provo per te
Nullità qualificherebbe la mia esistenza
in assenza di te
Sei tu l'unica fonte della felicità che conosco
E sarebbe meglio chiedermi cosa non farei per te... nulla.
Ti ho già prenotato in cielo per la mia prossima vita
Ho chiesto al mio destino di seguirti fin dal primo giorno
I miei angeli combatteranno contro ogni forza che
tenterà d'interferire
E rinuncerò di rinascere se la mia richiesta non sarà accolta.
Ma cercherò comunque di strapparti dalle mani di Dio
Sono molto sicuro che Egli si arrabbierà tanto con me,
Ma credo che capirà perché un essere umano non si crea incompleto
E io senza di te non sarò che una piccola frazione di un uomo!
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
giovedì 15 febbraio 2007
Un biglietto di solo andata
I loro occhi sembravano scavati dentro le facce,
Lo sguardo smarrito in mezzo al mare, confuso e pauroso,
C'erano anche bambini e donne in cinta......era l'ultimo treno,
Tutto il risparmio di vita, terre vendute...... dati agli scafisti.
Un vecchio mercantile e diverse gommone partivano da Tirana,
Un peschereccio partiva da Marocco, Tunisia, Libia e Malta,
I camion partivano dalla Turchia, Romania e Jugoslavia,
Tutti carichi di esseri umani, confezionati come sardine.
Avevano sete ma la pioggia non arrivava,
Avevano fame e pregavano ma gli squali pregavano di più,
Gli unici bagagli erano i pensieri che portavano con loro,
I deboli non dovevano salire a bordo....scaricati in mare.
Li stanno aspettando con le barre e sommozzatori,
Ecco, arrivano, puzzolenti, nudi, affamati e in lutto per i compagni,
Molti sapevano e gli altri facevano finta di non sapere,
Che Il viaggio è di solo andata.........senza speranza!
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
Lo sguardo smarrito in mezzo al mare, confuso e pauroso,
C'erano anche bambini e donne in cinta......era l'ultimo treno,
Tutto il risparmio di vita, terre vendute...... dati agli scafisti.
Un vecchio mercantile e diverse gommone partivano da Tirana,
Un peschereccio partiva da Marocco, Tunisia, Libia e Malta,
I camion partivano dalla Turchia, Romania e Jugoslavia,
Tutti carichi di esseri umani, confezionati come sardine.
Avevano sete ma la pioggia non arrivava,
Avevano fame e pregavano ma gli squali pregavano di più,
Gli unici bagagli erano i pensieri che portavano con loro,
I deboli non dovevano salire a bordo....scaricati in mare.
Li stanno aspettando con le barre e sommozzatori,
Ecco, arrivano, puzzolenti, nudi, affamati e in lutto per i compagni,
Molti sapevano e gli altri facevano finta di non sapere,
Che Il viaggio è di solo andata.........senza speranza!
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
mercoledì 14 febbraio 2007
Grazie........ amore mio
Cerco, ogni giorno che passa, di capire perché me?
Perché hai scelto proprio me tra tante belle persone di bel mondo?
Tutte le tue possibilità di scelta migliore sono state sprecate per un cuore malinconico come il mio,
E più che lo penso più che mi convinci di non aver sbagliato.
Mi hai saputo trasformare con la tua bacchetta magica,
Con te la mia insicurezza è diventata una grande sicurezza,
La mia paura si è trasformata in autostima,
E il brutto anatroccolo in me diventò un principe azzurro
L'insonnia quotidiana accompagnata dagli incubi non c'è più,
Le mie lacrime di disperazione oggi si chiamano di gioia,
Non mi considero secondo a nessuno, come il più fortunato,
E solo il pensiero di svegliarmi accanto a te la mattina mi allegra la vita.
Ormai, mi sono convinto che il sogno non è più,
Grazie a te, posso dare una definizione alla parola amore,
Non posso che esserti eternamente grato per tutto ciò che mi dai,
E finché esisto sei tu l'unica proprietaria dell'unica cosa preziosa che possiedo ......... il mio cuore!
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
Perché hai scelto proprio me tra tante belle persone di bel mondo?
Tutte le tue possibilità di scelta migliore sono state sprecate per un cuore malinconico come il mio,
E più che lo penso più che mi convinci di non aver sbagliato.
Mi hai saputo trasformare con la tua bacchetta magica,
Con te la mia insicurezza è diventata una grande sicurezza,
La mia paura si è trasformata in autostima,
E il brutto anatroccolo in me diventò un principe azzurro
L'insonnia quotidiana accompagnata dagli incubi non c'è più,
Le mie lacrime di disperazione oggi si chiamano di gioia,
Non mi considero secondo a nessuno, come il più fortunato,
E solo il pensiero di svegliarmi accanto a te la mattina mi allegra la vita.
Ormai, mi sono convinto che il sogno non è più,
Grazie a te, posso dare una definizione alla parola amore,
Non posso che esserti eternamente grato per tutto ciò che mi dai,
E finché esisto sei tu l'unica proprietaria dell'unica cosa preziosa che possiedo ......... il mio cuore!
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
lunedì 12 febbraio 2007
Una lettera aperta al Presidente della Repubblica
Signor Presidente, sono un immigrato che non ha più né speranza né paura del suo futuro peggiore,
Ma ho tanta paura per i miei compagni che vedo peggiorare le loro situazioni giorno dopo giorno,
Loro si sentono rifiutati dagli entrambi i paesi ai quali appartengono, quello d’origine e quello che li ospita.
Grazie a loro moltissimi anziani e bambini non vengono chiusi soli in casa,
Grazie a loro molte aziende e campi agricoli non sono chiusi per mancanza di operai,
Grazie a loro i giovani italiani d'oggi possono sperare di percepire la pensione in futuro.
Ma devono aspettare anni per rinnovarsi il permesso di soggiorno e doppio il tempo per ottenere una risposta per la cittadinanza,
Per farsi raggiungere dal coniuge, devono dormire alla Questura per il Nullaosta e all'ambasciata per l’appuntamento,
Non bastano più le loro impronte digitali, c’è chi parla di usare i proiettili di gomma.
Quelli laureati e diplomati fra loro continuano a fare vù-cumprà e lavavetri per tutta la vita,
Loro non vengono mai dato l’opportunità per dimostrare quanto valgono,
Signor Presidente, dicono che esiste una legge che li impedisce di aspirare per un impiego statale.
Sono spesso discriminati, insultati ed umiliati da chi non li capisce e chi non li vuole capire,
Sono spesso chiamati ladri quando uno di loro ruba e delinquenti quando lo è solo uno di loro,
Sono ormai l’unico argomento per quei partiti che non sanno più cosa contribuire alla politica di questo paese.
Può non sembrare, ma loro non vivono più per loro stessi, sono diventati dei missionari,
Infatti, ognuno di loro mantiene una media di sei famiglie nel suo paese d’origine,
Signor Presidente, non chiedono altro che un po' più di diritti e dignità umana, non avendo “Martin Luther King” a combattere per loro!
P.S. Perdonami se non ho i mezzi necessari per pubblicarlo sulla prima pagina di un quotidiano nazionale.
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
Ma ho tanta paura per i miei compagni che vedo peggiorare le loro situazioni giorno dopo giorno,
Loro si sentono rifiutati dagli entrambi i paesi ai quali appartengono, quello d’origine e quello che li ospita.
Grazie a loro moltissimi anziani e bambini non vengono chiusi soli in casa,
Grazie a loro molte aziende e campi agricoli non sono chiusi per mancanza di operai,
Grazie a loro i giovani italiani d'oggi possono sperare di percepire la pensione in futuro.
Ma devono aspettare anni per rinnovarsi il permesso di soggiorno e doppio il tempo per ottenere una risposta per la cittadinanza,
Per farsi raggiungere dal coniuge, devono dormire alla Questura per il Nullaosta e all'ambasciata per l’appuntamento,
Non bastano più le loro impronte digitali, c’è chi parla di usare i proiettili di gomma.
Quelli laureati e diplomati fra loro continuano a fare vù-cumprà e lavavetri per tutta la vita,
Loro non vengono mai dato l’opportunità per dimostrare quanto valgono,
Signor Presidente, dicono che esiste una legge che li impedisce di aspirare per un impiego statale.
Sono spesso discriminati, insultati ed umiliati da chi non li capisce e chi non li vuole capire,
Sono spesso chiamati ladri quando uno di loro ruba e delinquenti quando lo è solo uno di loro,
Sono ormai l’unico argomento per quei partiti che non sanno più cosa contribuire alla politica di questo paese.
Può non sembrare, ma loro non vivono più per loro stessi, sono diventati dei missionari,
Infatti, ognuno di loro mantiene una media di sei famiglie nel suo paese d’origine,
Signor Presidente, non chiedono altro che un po' più di diritti e dignità umana, non avendo “Martin Luther King” a combattere per loro!
P.S. Perdonami se non ho i mezzi necessari per pubblicarlo sulla prima pagina di un quotidiano nazionale.
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
sabato 10 febbraio 2007
The Reply
My dear father,
I do hope that you are doing alright, together with Mama. While I thank you immensely for your letter, I would like you to know that I was particularly touched by your words. Honestly, I felt my eyes wet with tears.
Firstly, I have to sincerely apologize for my long silence, which did not absolutely mean disregard or disrespect towards you, or even worse, canceling you both from my mind. I had, on several occasions, picked up a pen to write you but had always ended up with my head placed on the desk and the pen dropping from my hand, very confused. I had never known how or where to start. And in situations like this, one thinks, mistakenly, that silence and or isolation would be the best solution.
Father, the greatest mistake I made was my inability to confide totally with you, considering you a stranger in my affairs. Also, it would have been ridiculous for someone living in Italy for almost thirty years to continue to lament about his precarious conditions, to someone who sacrificed his life and resources to finance his studies in Europe, to an old father and mother living in Africa. Papà, believe me; it has not been easy for me and for many other Nigerians in this country.
It seemed so simple then, come here, grab a degree and quickly return home! Our dear Nigeria was better and most students got the necessary funds from their parents. Some grabbed it and some were in the process when the same people who were sending the money started asking for it, our country was in a great mess. Here became a hell for many of us, in Italy, where students were not even permitted to work. From then on, it has always been battle after battle to try to survive here as Nigerians. We are the first generation of immigrants and so have to educate them on what it means to host a “permanent foreigner”. They never considered Nigeria a poor country and consequently conceived us very little opportunities.
Those of us who succeeded to grab the degree at that early stage and left did not encourage the others to do so, infact, almost all returned here. While our host country is asking us when to go back to our country, our dear nation continues to deny us a welcome home. A law here prohibits foreigners from working in the state institutions. Graduates are still washing plates and cars for years without any hope to see their lives changed for better, rather, it gets worse. Father, many of us are living in bondage!
Anyway, thanks a lot for your efforts to get me a wife, but do not bother any longer because our status here hardly guarantees one the present, not to talk about the future, I will do that when am ready. And thanks for understanding that a nice lady makes a good wife, independently of her origin.
I am very happy for my childhood friends, Uche and Obi, and quite sure they did not intend to disrespect you because they know quite well that no condition is permanent, and cannot change my destiny if God has money and success for me in my package.
My dear father, I may not be able to afford a flight ticket right away, but I promise you that as long as I live, no one will ever take away what belongs to us in that village, forcefully. And our surname will never cease to exist in my own time!
May the good Lord continue to protect you and Mama, hoping to embrace you both very soon!
Your dearest son,
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
I do hope that you are doing alright, together with Mama. While I thank you immensely for your letter, I would like you to know that I was particularly touched by your words. Honestly, I felt my eyes wet with tears.
Firstly, I have to sincerely apologize for my long silence, which did not absolutely mean disregard or disrespect towards you, or even worse, canceling you both from my mind. I had, on several occasions, picked up a pen to write you but had always ended up with my head placed on the desk and the pen dropping from my hand, very confused. I had never known how or where to start. And in situations like this, one thinks, mistakenly, that silence and or isolation would be the best solution.
Father, the greatest mistake I made was my inability to confide totally with you, considering you a stranger in my affairs. Also, it would have been ridiculous for someone living in Italy for almost thirty years to continue to lament about his precarious conditions, to someone who sacrificed his life and resources to finance his studies in Europe, to an old father and mother living in Africa. Papà, believe me; it has not been easy for me and for many other Nigerians in this country.
It seemed so simple then, come here, grab a degree and quickly return home! Our dear Nigeria was better and most students got the necessary funds from their parents. Some grabbed it and some were in the process when the same people who were sending the money started asking for it, our country was in a great mess. Here became a hell for many of us, in Italy, where students were not even permitted to work. From then on, it has always been battle after battle to try to survive here as Nigerians. We are the first generation of immigrants and so have to educate them on what it means to host a “permanent foreigner”. They never considered Nigeria a poor country and consequently conceived us very little opportunities.
Those of us who succeeded to grab the degree at that early stage and left did not encourage the others to do so, infact, almost all returned here. While our host country is asking us when to go back to our country, our dear nation continues to deny us a welcome home. A law here prohibits foreigners from working in the state institutions. Graduates are still washing plates and cars for years without any hope to see their lives changed for better, rather, it gets worse. Father, many of us are living in bondage!
Anyway, thanks a lot for your efforts to get me a wife, but do not bother any longer because our status here hardly guarantees one the present, not to talk about the future, I will do that when am ready. And thanks for understanding that a nice lady makes a good wife, independently of her origin.
I am very happy for my childhood friends, Uche and Obi, and quite sure they did not intend to disrespect you because they know quite well that no condition is permanent, and cannot change my destiny if God has money and success for me in my package.
My dear father, I may not be able to afford a flight ticket right away, but I promise you that as long as I live, no one will ever take away what belongs to us in that village, forcefully. And our surname will never cease to exist in my own time!
May the good Lord continue to protect you and Mama, hoping to embrace you both very soon!
Your dearest son,
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
sabato 3 febbraio 2007
A LETTER FROM HOME
My dearest son,
How are you doing? I hope fine. Your mother and I are doing ok, at least, we are still breathing. My walking-stick is no longer a remedy to my persistent waist-pains and rheumatism has become a permanent resident in your mother's body.
It has taken so long since we heard from you and we have been wondering what has gone wrong, because it is unlike you. We are even afraid not to recognize you again as the last picture you sent us is dated back to about 10 years, and your mother hardly sleep without taking a glimpse at it, every blessed night.
We are quite aware of the hardship in Italy but never immagined it as severe as to completely wipe us away from your mind. Our bad wishers have already started rejoicing, waiting for our last breath in order to forcefully take possession of our belongings and subsequently delete our surname from any further existence in this village. We are praying to God and hoping it will never happen, with your help.
My dear son, never make the mistake of trying to get "enough" to impress us or any other person, we will be contented to know that you are healthy and trying your best. Other good things will surely come your way, some day.
The second wife we found for you has decided to look for another husband, as the first one did. We owe them no blame. It does not matter to us anymore the origin of your wife, as long as you both will give us the long awaited grandchildren, and give you the freedom to know that you still have a home, this house.
Last christmas, Uche and Obi, your childhood friends, visited home from the USA and Britain respectively. They have both completed their buildings in the village and also bought many lands. They asked me if I had one to sell to them. The little wisdom I still possess helped me to bear their arrogance and insolence. It is nothing considered to the mockery attacks we have received so far from the villagers because of you, but that day, your mother cried bitterly.
For security purposes, we often go to sleep inside the church, but we were also attacked there by the bandits. The priest was mercilessly beaten up for the protection he gives to the villagers.
As the political elections approaches, all we hear is candidates "eliminating" candidates by all means, salaries not paid and public funds diverted for personal campaigns. A lot of people are afraid of what will be the outcome of the elections.
Well, my dear son, as everyday that passes brings us much nearer to our graves, your mother and I are still praying and hoping to live long enough to embrace you again, some day. But if you come after our Lord's call, we would like you to know that we had always loved you and not annoyed with you. Because we know quite well that if you ever had the minimum possibility, you wouldn't have denied us the little felicity that we had always desired.
May God almighty and our gods continue to bless and protect you!
Your dear father,
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
How are you doing? I hope fine. Your mother and I are doing ok, at least, we are still breathing. My walking-stick is no longer a remedy to my persistent waist-pains and rheumatism has become a permanent resident in your mother's body.
It has taken so long since we heard from you and we have been wondering what has gone wrong, because it is unlike you. We are even afraid not to recognize you again as the last picture you sent us is dated back to about 10 years, and your mother hardly sleep without taking a glimpse at it, every blessed night.
We are quite aware of the hardship in Italy but never immagined it as severe as to completely wipe us away from your mind. Our bad wishers have already started rejoicing, waiting for our last breath in order to forcefully take possession of our belongings and subsequently delete our surname from any further existence in this village. We are praying to God and hoping it will never happen, with your help.
My dear son, never make the mistake of trying to get "enough" to impress us or any other person, we will be contented to know that you are healthy and trying your best. Other good things will surely come your way, some day.
The second wife we found for you has decided to look for another husband, as the first one did. We owe them no blame. It does not matter to us anymore the origin of your wife, as long as you both will give us the long awaited grandchildren, and give you the freedom to know that you still have a home, this house.
Last christmas, Uche and Obi, your childhood friends, visited home from the USA and Britain respectively. They have both completed their buildings in the village and also bought many lands. They asked me if I had one to sell to them. The little wisdom I still possess helped me to bear their arrogance and insolence. It is nothing considered to the mockery attacks we have received so far from the villagers because of you, but that day, your mother cried bitterly.
For security purposes, we often go to sleep inside the church, but we were also attacked there by the bandits. The priest was mercilessly beaten up for the protection he gives to the villagers.
As the political elections approaches, all we hear is candidates "eliminating" candidates by all means, salaries not paid and public funds diverted for personal campaigns. A lot of people are afraid of what will be the outcome of the elections.
Well, my dear son, as everyday that passes brings us much nearer to our graves, your mother and I are still praying and hoping to live long enough to embrace you again, some day. But if you come after our Lord's call, we would like you to know that we had always loved you and not annoyed with you. Because we know quite well that if you ever had the minimum possibility, you wouldn't have denied us the little felicity that we had always desired.
May God almighty and our gods continue to bless and protect you!
Your dear father,
Blessing Sunday Osuchukwu
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