Sunday 26 July 2015

Finally!!! Troubled Singer, Majek Fashek admitted to Abuja rehab



Nigerian-born reggae singer and guitarist, Majekodunmi Fasheke, popularly known as Majek Fashek, is currently on admission at a rehabilitation centre in Abuja following suspected case of drug abuse.

Caregivers at the rehab centre, who preferred anonymity, said Majek was placed at the intensive care unit of the centre and is responding to treatment.

Majek, who was previously seen roaming the streets of Lagos aimlessly, had lived in the United States some years ago before being deported to Nigeria.

According to reports,  his deportation from America worsened his condition as he allegedly separated with his wife and resorted to begging.

Meanwhile a fundraising campaign to save the reggae icon’s life has been launched by a US-based musician and one-time Majek’s band-mate, Monica Omorodion Swaida, seeking fans around the world to donate to the cause.

Ms Swaida, who coordinates the fundraiser through American crowd funding platform, GoFundMe, appealed to people to “come together and help him”.

Writing on the campaign website, Ms. Swaida said, “I had the opportunity to go on tour with Majek Fashek in Africa and Abroad. I played on stage with Majek last in NYC. Majek was compared to the late icon Bob Marley.
“Today, Majek is seen in the streets of Lagos looking for petty change to buy food and drinks. Majek looks sickly and fray. He is looking haggard! How can a national hero be left on the street like that? We must do something to take care of this man. No matter the problems majek has, whether drug related, spiritual or mental related problems, it doesn’t matter. Everyone can be saved! Let’s come together and help him.
“The family of Majek just recently got their legal papers in America and can now travel. But they need your support. They can’t do this alone. They have not been in Nigeria for over 20 years. But they want to help their dad now.
 “I will personally go with the wife, Rita Majek, and the first son, Randy Majek, to Nigeria to join others fighting for this cause to help Majek. Please fans all over the world, let us help save this legend while he is still alive. God bless those reading this. Amen!”
The fund raising campaign to save the life of the ailing reggae star has so far raised $2,793.

Afocandy threathens to expose ''peacher' married men


Popular Nigerian adult-movie star, AfroCandy has lamented that preachers and critics should let her be. The indefatigable actress took to her Facebook page last week, crying out that preachers should leave her alone with her p*rn-style life. According to her, they keep visiting her p*rn website to preach to her about the kingdom of God and Jesus.

She wrote:

Before you enter my inbox telling me to repent and preaching to me how Jesus loves me and died for me please look me well. I am a Christian, I praise and worship my God and his son Jesus Christ always, and I know they love me, protect, provide for me and my children, you don't need to tell me.
Some people even take the pain to register at my websites, spend time looking at all the naked people before starting their preaching.

 Let me warn you, my new approach to get you off my pages now is to message your wives to come get you out of my pages since blocking does not make much impact anymore, when you get to your wives you can explain to them how my websites or pages look like Churches.
So my advice to y'all is to take your hungry selves and go preach to Boko haram since you seriously want to preach...Rubbish!
- Afrocandy 

Jennifer Lopez celebrates 46th birthday in very revealing outfit


Jennifer Lopez celebrated her 46th birthday last night, wearing a very revealing black cut out sheer dress for her party which was organized at 1Oak,New York. Wow!!!




Nollywood actor Jnr Pope releases lovely photos as he marks 1st wedding anniversary with his wife


Nollywood actor Jnr Pope and wife are celebrating their first wedding anniversary. The couple got married on the 26th of June 2014 and they are already blessed with a son.
Below is a message he penned down to his wife on social media.

HAPPY WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TO US....... My love, today has given me enough time to think about my life. Up until I met you, I was a voyager searching for meaning in the ocean of life. I had been to different islands and worlds, I had seen different women and cultures and I had been involved in the ephemeral pleasures of life. But it was all meaningless. 
There was a void in me, a chasm that longed to be filled up. There was a darkness, deep 
and palpable. There was hopelessness. 

AND THEN I MET YOU, JENIFFER. (The Envy of all women). 

When I proposed to you I gave you a ring, when we got married you gave my life wings. Not a single day goes by without me wondering what a dry desert my life would have been without you. You came to my life in the midnight of despair and uncertainty with the moon of your laughter and the sun of your love illuminating my life and giving it all meaning. 
You filled up my chasm. You have helped me to find the right answers to all the difficult questions that life has thrown at me. You have made lemonades with me when life has given me lemons and you have sipped wine with me when the road has been smooth. In times of happiness or trouble, whether I find gold or rubble, I know that you will always stand by me… and never burst our happy bubble..



SHOCKING!!! Dead Woman ‘Withdraws’ Over N500k From Bank In Lagos


Mrs Cordelia Iweg­buna Idowu Okocha, died of breast cancer, at the age of 50 on August 7, 2004, and was buried in Septem­ber 2004. Four years after her death, she ‘visited’ her bank and withdrew more than N527,500 from her savings account in a first generation bank (name withheld).

The statement of account of the dead woman indicated that she withdrew N500,000 by ‘self ’ on February 19, 2008. On Febru­ary 28, 2008, she made another withdrawal of N27,500 by ‘self’. She made all the withdrawals at the Awolowo Road branch of the bank.

Her only child, Chukwudi Uche Okocha, explained:
“My mother died on August 7, 2004 as a result of breast cancer and my dad died on February 1, 2006. He slept and did not wake up. I am the only child of my parents, I was 17 years old when my mother died. My mum was sick for about eight months, suffering from breast cancer before she gave up. Since my parents died, I’ve been managing, trying to cope through the help of family and friends.
There is a particular family that took me under their care and since then I’ve been living with them. And to God be the glory, they have been trying. I got admission into University of Lagos to study Mathematics in 2006. It has not been easy not having one’s parents around.
“My mother spent a lot of money when she was sick due to the nature of the sickness. We all know that it is not easy to manage cancer. But about a month before she died, she told me that she had something in her savings account; that was her salary account. She told me that whatever happened, there was something left in the account. When she died, she was paid her July salary. Before she died, she told me that she had over N200,000 left in her account and when she died her salary was paid into the account. So, there was over N500,000 in the account when she died.”
Chukwudi, who is now 28 added:
 “But being the only one, I was not able to process the trans­fer of the money to my account. My dad was unable to process it before he died. Between 2008 and 2009, I tried to process the letter of administration of my mother’s estate through the Lagos probate court and they gave me the certificate to get the money in the account. That was when I applied for the balance and they told me that the balance was about N500. I was shocked because she told me what she had left in the account before she died and I know she did not go to the bank after she told me what she had in the bank. But even if there was no money, the July salary should have been there because it was paid after she had died. And I have a copy of the pay slip for the July salary. When I met Barrister Eluma, I complained to him that there was something wrong with the account.
“When we went to see the then branch manager of the bank, she asked if I was sure that my mother was dead. But she was not ready to disclose anything. So, I felt there was foul play somewhere and I decided to see a lawyer and see what we could do about it. We discovered that two withdrawals were made from my mother’s account in Febru­ary, 2008; that is four years after she died. Did she come from her grave to withdraw the money from her account? It is a savings account, meaning that she was the only person who could make withdrawals from the account. So, how come withdrawals were made four years after she died? The withdrawals were made by ‘self’ according to the statement of account. It means that some­body, most likely a staff, who knows she was dead or knows something about her withdrew the money.
“What I need now is for them to refund the money and pay some compensation for the inconveniences I have gone through over the years. If I had been able to access the money, it would have been very useful, particularly when I was in school. Again, the value of the money has depreciated in the past 11 years. You can imagine what I could have done if I had gotten the money then. So, they should compensate me.”
Meanwhile, he has written a petition to the Assistant Inspector General of Police in-charge of Zone 2 Command, Nigeria Police, Zone 2 headquarters, Onikan, Lagos. Dated June 17, 2015, it was captioned, RE: *** Account No 2004452106; Account Name: Okocha Cordelia I. Petition On Criminal Breach Of Trust, Fraud­ulent Misrepresentation, Conspir­acy, Forgery, Stealing.

Culled from Sunday Sun

Many Killed As Blast Hits Crowded Damaturu Market Today


Dozens were injured and at least 11 people killed in a powerful blast that hit a crowded market in the city of Damaturu on Sunday. The explosive device went off at around 9.30 am on Sunday.

The attack comes just six days after a suicide bombing at a checkpoint on the outskirts of the same city.

Davido's daughter Imade meets her Billionaire's grand dad (Photos)


One of the latest celebrity baby daddy in town, Davido is fast embracing his new status as a father.
The 23-year-old BET award winner who has been away in the US trying to put finishing touches to his album and caring for his baby, has returned to the country to show his dad his baby.
Davido since welcoming his daughter in May, with his baby mama, Sophie Momodu, has made sure that his daughter gets the best out of his wealth as he made a customized O.B.O gold necklace for her and even made her a special room in their place of aboard.
To play the good son role, the singer recently brought his daughter home to meet her grandfather for the first time which brought so much smile on the face of Adedeji Adeleke.
“Imade Finally met grandpa see her chubby cheeks love her so much! my pumpkin!” Davido wrote.   

Reuben Abati On Life After Leaving Office: “My Phones No Longer Ring”


The Special Adviser to former President Goodluck Jonathan,Reuben Abati, has penned an article on how life has been since that government was voted out.
Read it below!
As spokesman to President Goodluck Jonathan, my phones rang endlessly and became more than personal navigators within the social space. They defined my entire life; dusk to dawn, all year-round. The phones buzzed non-stop, my email was permanently active; my twitter account received tons of messages per second. The worst moments were those days when there was a Boko Haram attack virtually every Sunday.
The intrusion into my private life was total as my wife complained about her sleep being disrupted by phones that never seemed to stop ringing. Besides, whenever I was not checking or responding to the phones, I was busy online trying to find out if the APC had said something contrarian or some other fellow was up to any mischief. A media manager in the 21st century is a slave of the Breaking News, a slave particularly of the 24-hour news cycle, and a potential nervous breakdown case. Debo Adesina, my colleague at The Guardian once said I was running a “one week, one trouble schedule”. There were actually moments when trouble knocked on the door every hour, and duty required my team and I to respond to as many issues that came up.
Top of the task list was the management of phone calls related to the principal. In my first week on the job, for example, one of my phones ran out of battery and I had taken the liberty to charge it. While it was still in the off mode, the “Control Room”: the all-powerful communications centre at the State House tried to reach me. They had only just that phone number, so I couldn’t be reached. When eventually they did, the fellow at the other end was livid.
“SA Media, where are you? We have been trying to reach you. Mr President wants to speak with you”
“Sorry, I was charging my phone. The phone was off.”
“Sir, you can’t switch off your phone now. Mr President must be able to reach you at any time. You must always be available.” I was like: “really? Which kin job be dis?”
The Control Room eventually collected all my phone numbers. If I did not pick up a call on time, they called my wife. Sometimes the calls came directly from the Residence, as we referred to the President’s official quarters.
“Abati, Oga dey call you!”
If I still could not be reached, every phone that was ever connected to me would ring non-stop. Busy bodies who had just picked up the information that Abati was needed also often took it upon themselves to track me down. My wife soon got used to her being asked to produce me, or a car showing up to take me straight to the Residence. I eventually got used to it too, and learnt to remain on duty round-the-clock. In due course, President Jonathan himself would call directly. My wife used to joke that each time there was a call from him, even if I was sleeping, I would spring to my feet and without listening to what he had to say, I would start with a barrage of “Yes sirs”! Other calls that could not be joked with were calls from my own office.
Something could come up that would require coverage, or there could be a breaking story, or it could be something as harmless as office gossip, except that in the corridors of power, nothing is ever harmless.
Looking back now, I still can’t figure out how I survived that onslaught of the terror of the telephone.
Of equal significance were the calls from journalists who wanted clarifications on issues of the moment, or the President’s opinion. I don’t need to remind anyone who lived in Nigeria during the period, that we had a particularly interesting time. The Jonathan government had to deal from the very first day with a desperate and hyper-negative opposition, which gained help from a crowd of naysayers who bought into their narrative. I was required to respond to issues. Bad news sells newspapers and attracts listeners/viewers.
Everything had to be managed. You knew something had happened as the phones rang, and the text messages, emails, twitter comments poured in. The media could not be ignored. Interfacing with every kind of journalist was my main task. I learnt many lessons, a subject for another day. And the busy bodies didn’t make things easy.
If in 1980, the media manager had to deal with print and broadcast journalists, today, the big task is the dilemma of the over-democratization of media practice in the age of information. The question used to be asked in Nigerian media circles: who is a journalist? Attempts were subsequently made to produce a register of professionals but that is now clearly an illusion. The media of the 21st Century is the strongest evidence we have for the triumph of democracy. Everybody is a journalist now, once you can purchase a phone or a laptop, or an ipad and you can take pictures, set up a blog, or go on instagram, linked-in, viber etc.
All kinds of persons have earned great reputation as editors and opinion influencers on social media where you don’t have to make sense to attract followers. The new stars and celebrities are not necessarily the most educated or knowledgeable, but those who, with 140 words or less, or with a picture or a borrowed quote, can produce fast-food type public intellectualism, or can excite with a little display of the exotic -Kadarshian, Nicki Minaj style. But I was obligated to attend to all calls. The ones who didn’t receive an answer complained about Abati not picking their calls.
My defence was that most editors in Nigeria have correspondents in the State House. Every correspondent had access to me. There was no way I could be accused of not picking calls, and in any case, there were other channels: instagram, twitter direct message, email, and media assistants who could interface with me.
But this was the main challenge: while in public office, people treat you as if you are at their mercy, they threaten to sabotage you and get you sacked, every phone call was a request with a price attached, you get clobbered; you are treated like you had committed a crime to serve your nation. Relatives and privileged kinsmen struggled with you to do the job – media management is that one assignment in which everyone is an expert even if their only claim to relevance is that they once had an uncle who was a newspaper vendor!
The thinking that anyone who opts to serve is there to make money in that famous arena for primitive accumulation partly accounts for this. And that takes me to those phone calls from persons who solicited for financial help as if there was a tree at the Villa that produced money. Such people would never believe that government officials don’t necessarily have access to money. They wanted to be assisted: to pay school fees, to settle medical bills, to build a house, purchase a car, complete an uncompleted building, or link them up with the President. Everybody wanted a part of the national cake and they thought a phone call was all they needed. If you offered any explanation, they reminded you that you’d be better off on the lecture circuit.
Businessmen also hovered around the system like bees around nectar.
But what to do? “Volenti non fit injuria,” the principle says. There were also calls from the unkind lot. “I have called you repeatedly, you did not pick my calls. I hope you know that you will leave government one day!”. Or those who told you point blank that they were calling because you were in the position as their representative and that you owed them a living. Or that other crowd who said, “it is our brother that has given you that opportunity, you must give us our share!”
The Presidential election went as it did, and everything changed. Days after, State House became Ghost House. The Residence, which used to receive visitors as early as 6 am, (regular early morning devotion attendees) became quiet. The throng of visitors stopped. The number of phone calls began to drop. By May 29, my phones had stopped ringing as they used to. They more or less became museum pieces; their silence reminding me of the four years of my life that proved so momentous. On one occasion, after a whole day of silence, I had to check if the phones were damaged! As it were, a cynical public relates to you not as a person, but as the office you occupy; the moment you leave office, the people move on; erasing every memory, they throw you into yesterday’s dustbin. Opportunism is the driver of the public’s relationship with public officials.
Today, the phones remain loudly silent, with the exception of calls from those friends who are not gloating, who have been offering words of commendation and support. They include childhood friends, former colleagues, elderly associates, fans, and family members. And those who want interviews with President Jonathan, both local and international – they want his reaction on every development, so many of them from every part of the planet. But he is resting and he has asked me to say he is not ready yet to say anything. It is truly, a different moment, and indeed, “no condition is permanent.”
The ones who won’t give up with the stream of phone calls and text messages are those who keep pestering me with requests for financial assistance. I am made to understand that there is something called “special handshake” and that everyone who goes into government is supposed to exit with carton loads of cash. I am in no position to assist such people, because no explanation will make sense to them. Here I am, at the crossroads; I am glad to be here.