Award with a difference!!

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The award’s with a difference: Celebrate to inspire

A lot of youths have opined that there exist little or no rewarding
systems for them in the country; the little that exists they claim is
targeted at just a section of people mostly “party go-ers” and
celebrities. This has necessitated us to come up with the Gidi Youths
award’s which has its main focus on Youth Entrepreneurs, Youth Artists,
Youths in New Media (Blogs and social media), Students and the societal
youths and places amongst others.

This award is different from the conventional awards setting because it
does not only seek to recognize or celebrate success but it seeks to
highlight the ways in which these successes were attained so as to be
able to help and inspire other youths to tap the potential in them and
create. Hence, the award has its motto “celebrate to inspire”.

The question that also comes to mind is, why the name Gidi Youths
awards? The word “Gidi” is from the ancient Indian word “Gidian” which
literally translates to “Unique”, it has however undergone a kind of
transformation and “Nigerian-isation” to become associated with cities
such as LasGidi, AbuGidi, KwasGidi and so on. We decided to go with this
youth culture since it tallies with the uniqueness of the awards.

We have identified certain key areas in Entrepreneurship as those with
high youth’s interest and concentration; areas such as Events and décor,
Fashion and Design, Confectionary, Beauty and make-up, graphics and
designs and music. These areas we would be focusing on both the upcoming
entrepreneurs and the professional already excelling in the industry.

“Our resolve in doing this is not just to celebrate these individuals
but to create role models that other youths can aspire to be. We would
not just reward them but interview them and listen to their success
story so as to inspire others towards success.”

The nominations are already open to everybody on http://www.tosh2tushent.com
,one can nominate oneself and have friends, fans and supporters also
nominate. After this stage, the result would be collated and the final
nominees would be released and notified.

You can vote for M’ADE too lol *blushing*

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Just my thought in someone’s words

Misssarcasticallycomplicated's Blog

*Emptyhen, thanks for been the Bipolar Network of the century.. You are soo confuse, you make GLO look like a freaking princess*..  

I just heard a very wonderful news.. A friend of mine just got engaged… *Yaaayness* I am ecstatic.. Very much happy for her.. Although, the rate at which young girls are getting married, whether to older men or slightly older guy is alarming.. Its a freaking epidermic.. I think every other weekend or weekday, its been two weddings or more. Just two days ago, another guy from my alma mata sent me an invite to his wedding in september. Atleast, over 10 girls/guys from my alma mata are married, engaged or wateva else is next.. A couple are mothers/fathers, already..

It’s beginning to feel like a Fashion statement.. Like, owning a Channel purse or something.. Imagining, you walking down the street and some asks you, “Aren’t you married…

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when u go marry?

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God does not give me the option of getting older without turning plus one. I want to get older; I want to be more mature; I want to be wiser; I want to get the experience one only gets by spending more time on earth, but I do not necessarily want my age to go higher – at least not at the rate that it goes. Perhaps, I will feel better if it took eighteen months to turn plus one instead of twelve months.
I am not a child, and I do not wish to go back to my childhood; however, I am really just a kid at heart. The thought of being married excites me; the thought of having a man to call my own fascinates me; the thought of having children that come out of me thrills me, but even more than all that, the thought of leaving my parents terrifies me. Yes, I want to start a family of my own, but I still want to live with my mommy. Who will rub my back when I am feeling down? Who will rub my feet? Who will play with my hair? The probability that my husband will do all these is not very high – unless my husband happens to not be Nigerian which is highly unlikely. I am tempted to get into all the reasons why my mother might be a more romantic husband, but I will save that for another day.
The older I become, the more often I hear that question that no girl ever wants to hear (especially if she does not know the answer to it), “so when are you getting married?” My best friend is getting married in a month’s time, another got married today a few married last month and I have stopped telling people about it because it always leads them to ask me the question I do not want to hear. I do not know when I will be getting married. I do not know how I will be proposed to. I do not know where or when I will be proposed to. But most importantly, I do not know to whom I will be getting married. But no one asks me who I will be getting married to; everyone is concerned about when.
Things have gotten so bad that my mother’s friends’ husband gave my number to his friend who has a son. He told me all the supposed good things about his friend’s son – he is in the military (is that supposed to be a good thing? I hear the military guys are all whores); he flies planes for the military (Oh great! In addition to possibly being hit by a stray bullet, he also runs the risk of dying in a plane crash); he is Hausa (so what? I hear they do not make them like they used to anymore. But then again, were they ever really that good?); he is in med school (how nice! I can look forward to my potential husband spending all his time in the hospital. And let us not forget the student loans), but my He failed to tell me if his friend’s son was single and looking. I guess all that mattered was the relationship between my father and his father.
I concluded that the guy would have to be really desperate to actually call me. I mean, what would he say when he calls me? “Hi, my name is —, and I got your number from my father who got it from your father who said we should mingle and see where this might lead to.” Yeah, there goes the introduction I have been waiting for all my life. I did not expect him to call; he never did call, and my mind forgot the issue. But then months later, my father asked me if he had called, and that was when I remembered him. I am ashamed to admit this, but a part of me was sad. Why did he not call?? He should have at least called to hear my voice. He should have at least considered the possibility of God working in mysterious ways. Yes, indeed, I am pathetic, I know. So that was how my relationship with the flying military man in med school ended before it got a chance to start.
Like I stated earlier, my friend is getting married in a month’s time; another close friend of mine got married this Saturday (October 20th 2012), and yet another friend is getting married in December. Everyone has been asking the same question, and I am sick and tired of saying I do not know. Besides, saying I do not know only prompts the one asking to ask another unanswerable question, “Why now?” What the heck?! I can go ahead and explain to anyone who cares to hear that I have an idea of what I want my wedding gown to look like; I know the exact engagement and wedding ring I want; I know where I want to do my traditional marriage; I know what I want the ceremony to be like; I know what I want the Nikkah wedding to look like; I know what kind of marriage I want to share with my husband, and I even have an idea of the songs we will play that day, the names of our children, and how many I want to look like me (I want at least one boy and one girl to look like me)!
In fact, I also know that I want five children (including a set of twins and two adopted). I am so sure of my twins that I have secretly started calling myself Mama Ejima or Mama Ibeji. Yes, I have claimed it already. All I need now is the ‘who’, but no one is asking me that. I guess all that matters is that I know when I will be getting married. Finding the ‘who’ should not be too difficult seeing as I have thousands of men knocking my door down and asking my parents for permission to pluck the ripe flower in their garden. Yeah, right!

My friend, who has been single since i know her now thinks because she has one guy doing her is feeling different. Suddenly, her new wave of ‘manfullness’ has given her the confidence to have pity on me. She said she will help me out of my predicament. I did not even know I had a predicament!
How am I supposed to tell people when I will be getting married if I do not even have a man to propose? Or am I supposed to propose to myself and marry myself? That would actually not be such a terrible idea since I consider myself the best partner anyone can ever dream of (wink) , but I cannot afford the ring I want. Besides, I kind of need a man to have the five children that I plan on having, and going to a sperm bank is out of the question. Another perk of getting married is the tax breaks that married couples get. Who does not want or need a tax break? I know I do. Oh well, I guess I would just have to wait for my darling to show up. I have to say it is taking him a mighty long time to get here, but with all the humidity and global warming occurring, transportation must have slowed down. That is my story, and I am sticking to it.
Of course, if I could have a meeting with God, I would suggest He creates a Custom-M’ade Spouse program – a program in which people – men and women alike – can create their partner just as they want him or her. But I know this is merely a fantasy that will never come to pass. But if for any reason God decides to create such a program, I will not mind being the first to utilize it. Heaven knows I am in dire need of it. Until then however, I will just have to wait for my darling like every other woman out there.

So when am I getting married? Beats me. But if you find out, do let me know,

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NYSC shouldnt be a total waste!

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My pledge to Nigeria still remains the same even though a lot of us do not see it as one, for every time we recited it right from primary school to secondary up to the university level and now to serving our country “Nigeria”. Being part of the most blessed batch of all batches, 11C resuming on the 15/11/12 with little or no interest, bailing out of camp based on health issues and not minding what I will miss, the mammy market everyone looked forward to wasn’t catching my fancy, after spending two nights in camp, no shower, no wee, I made up my mind to find my way back to my abode. I’m no butty nor tush, I grew up in Mushin and Orile respectively and now live in the razz part of Lagos Island. I just couldn’t cope with our poor Nigerian system anymore. Lagos camp has been longed tagged the best ever ( well in terms of fun and opportunities) unfortunately for me, I missed out on most if not all. I for once have never been interested in the so-called NYSC; I thought it was a waste of time.
My staying out of camp gave my friends and colleagues reasons to think I had job waiting, but Alas! NO! I used these time to surf the internet looking for one even though I wasn’t exactly ready to work for anyone, I’m a fashion designer M’ADE. Why should I waste a year serving a country that never pays back? But that changed when I was offered one with a reasonable “corper pay”. Leaving where I was initially posted to teach biology and math in a School in Bariga after one week of bonding with the kids left guilt in my heart. I couldn’t forgive myself for weeks.
Then came the strike – OCCUPY NAIJA, I kept thinking “if I don’t who will? If not now, when?” Most of the protesters were heard and listened to because they went to school and acquired knowledge. I then thought, NYSC can’t be a total waste, been posted to Lagos should be the greatest opportunity for anyone, I might be earning more than 75% of Lagos corps members and less than 10% of Lagos corps members but this ratio is enough to get me on my heels and do something rewarding.
I Started with Wednesday free teaching programme at my old PPA and few schools around. The student knew me to be a proud fashion designer and making them understand the state of our country and how important it is to be self empowered was my priority. In June, a couple of friends passed out, it was a wake up call, many made no impact, some did and very few were recognised. I like to be important and valued, it is my speciality and I do not see any wrong in that, it had always been my driving force. I wanted to be important, to be make impact and to reflect on my theory of OCCUPY NAIJA. The time was now, I took up a project (I’M MADE) in conjunction with 10 other Nigerian youths and ambassadors to train 35 students in 5 vocational courses, to visit homes under the (care 4 all project) to share experiences and let the young know they still have hope in Nigeria. Today, I am dropping my old,tight and only khaki knowing fully well that I have served my country and I am sure those 35students will serve 35 each more and the trend will continue and even when I pick a white collar job or get on my sewing machine creating ideas and designs more empowered youths will be created alongside.

Am i fulfilled? YES! Am i happy? YES! Am i grateful? YES! Am a lot of things including proud of everyone around me, everyone that always appreciated me, everyone that helps me get lucky, everyone that will do anything to make my plans become project. I can’t mention names anymore because you all know yourselves.

I thank the Lagos State Govt and the whole of NYSC crew for appreciating me and awarding me as outstanding productive corps member. The Lagos State Honours Award, means so much to me.

Don’t be quick to think Lagos is the happening place. In fact, if it is Zamfara it’s a place to give a hand to peace, new knowledge and also learn craft, Kwara state is the best place for practising agriculture; you don’t have to hold hoes or cutlasses, you can be opportunistic about it, my Ibadan corps members knew what was right “business”, just think of something you can passionately sell, A friend of my does delivery business in Ebonyi and Uyo back and forth and now has a certification on that, East- west, North- south of Nigeria is full of great opportunities, it just requires creative minds and ideology. We can find more than we can wait to get, just talk to me and many through @MADE_creations with #MADE/#MADE creations, lets create more opportunities for ourselves even though the government aren’t ready to make it easy.
GOOD TO GO … NOW YOUR STRUGGLE SURVIVAL CONTINUES

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Aisha n Josh ~ episode 14

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Today, you all probably know Aisha, A TV host and presenter, you probably envy her and want to be like her and wonder why she hasn’t married Aman, you probably have so many guesses on your mind right now and i really do wish she can be revealed but Aahil Basim is my responsibility and keeping him safe and happy is paramount. Hopefully with time, we all can get to refer to this blog when he grows and understands why he doesn’t have a biological father or even why his mum keeps him a secret from everyone. Aman’s opinion of letting go doesn’t matter here because even this space can’t express my view.
After several threats, apologises and pleads from Josh, my mum had to get a lawyer to sort things out. One year in my baby had started walking and calling me aunty and his grandmother mummy, i liked it and still do. At least it saves me the questioning of who is the father. My life has taken a great turn, Aman has been very helpful, my mum moved to lagos, still distributing for Dangote. We have our own apartment and we doing fine.

Getting back to the world hasn’t been easy, good thing i have a good degree and always ready to go, getting appointments here and there makes it easy to feel free, talking to people every day and trying to get a job hasn’t been any easy but recently things have been great. My iman has increased and I’m ready to put the past behind me.
I have taken my time to write this post not to relate any bad morale or negativity but to let you know that there’s more to life, people wake up daily with pain and sufferings in their heart, people live days looking at the next with regret. If i had spoken up earlier, Josh and I won’t get to the point we are today. Even though I’m not sure he’s the father of my child but he wasn’t there, neither was his family. Him showing at the delivery room doesn’t make any sense to me but i do not care and i have moved on, I will go everyday with my head up high. “The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can’t go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches..;;)”
Major life decisions come to place, questions will be asked and getting it all sorted will be a great challenge. I shared my story here because of all the inspirations i get from here, i could have gone to were i can have many hits and probably boost my career but the point is to go in line with what my peers have in stock. There is no such thing as” lived happily ever after” well except you live in mars. Every happy person you see have one struggle or the other and the common one for humans is survival.
Josh is living a regrettable life now, he’s lost everything to drug and dealings and many people around still blame him for my rape. Even we girls and potential girlfriends and wives need to be very careful, being desperate doesn’t cut it, it lands us in pits and buries us alive, leaving great scars we live to always nurture. Mine is Aahil and having a different life from what i presumed but am lucky and blessed, i have taken this struggles as reasons to survive and succeed.
If you have missed this series please kindly go over it, there is one or two or more things to learn from it. Thank you all for the messages and contact share, may we not go through hell to feel heaven.

#AishanJosh ends today, there’s so much embedded and untold but during my next posts i’ll refer to them. #gracias

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Aisha n Josh ~ episode 13

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I had been out for 3hours, even my mom feared for my life, she was been assured of my well being, i was just short on blood and lack of energy. Waking up at about 10pm the ward was empty, My mum was still beside me, holding him so close. He was small, red and dark headed. I rolled over to get comfort, my mum called on the nurses, they checked on me and confirmed i was fine. They welcomed me to life with smiles and teases of how lazy i was, i wasn’t exactly eager to hold him but i always loved miracles, he his my miracle.
Mum handed him over, he was fragile and tiny, i was afraid i would crush him. Breast milk was all over me, immediately i held him close he cried, he’δ not had milk for last few hours. I didn’t know what to do, even i had watched women feed their babies it didn’t occur to me what next to do. He was screaming so loud, i started shedding tears, i was afraid i’ll never be up to the task, i will never be able to make him smile, i will never be the right mother for him and i was too afraid to start the new life right on my alms. I was consoled and encouraged by everyone around. My mum helped me raise him up to a more comfortable position he sucked like he has been practising from the womb. My breasts ached so much, i couldn’t even retrieve them from his warm lips. I watched and caressed him till he slept off.
The next day didn’t start easy, had to mother-routines, these things don’t just come like the usual house chores but its joyful because every seconds reminds you of how miraculous your life is. On the 17th of September my life took a new turn. I felt true Joy for once in my life, i was ready to makeup for all the L♥√ع i didn’t show him from the day i found out he was changing my whole world. But sincerely, my mum was most excited. I took the opportunity to ask her if she had heard from Aman, she nodded showing me my phone. Aman had been calling and sending me message. He even sent me a picture of my red baby with a caption “like papa(me)”. Seeing that brought a big grin to my face. I was glad someone outside my family had my back. Even before i dropped the phone, he called again, we spoke non-stop until “red baby” interrupted.
Two days passed, i was discharged from the hospital, as much as my mum would have loved to celebrate, circumstances won’t allow. Getting back home was welcoming and relaxing. Aman was waiting with lots of gifts and smiles. I was too shy to even look up to him, he was eager to receive red baby from my mum. After settling and resting, i remembered the last thing i saw immediately after my delivery, I asked my mum about it. She insisted it was Aman and his friend.
Confirming it wasn’t Aman’s friend brought much more concern to me than my mum. Things had settled and red baby was named “Aahil Basim” smiling prince, Basim was my Father’s name and Aahil-prince was the next thing i could think of. I loved him more and more by the day. Aman stood by me. He would check on us every night. He his truly a blessed man. Sometime in December he brought his Grandma to see us. My son! (Yes, he’s mine and mine alone) keeps growing bigger and healthier. It took no re consideration to cancel furthering my education in Cyprus, i just couldn’t imagine leaving Aahil, i won’t even concentrate, my whole world now revolves around him.
It was new year’s eve and as expected, you get many calls, texts and emails. I usually don’t pay attention to most of them, Aahil is too troublesome to even let me concentrate on social media. But this particular email struck me. It was from Josh. I really wish to copy and paste his message here but i had promised not to expose anymore personal messages.
His last words were ” a known devil is better than an unknown angel”. I obviously remember every bit i had with him, his mother’s words to mine. All the pain, the scars and the regrets. Aman has been there for me, he’s not asked me for anything, he’s the man my son knows. He’s hard working and God fearing. He is everything you want in a being not just a man. Even though he hasn’t asked, i know he’s only giving me time to heal. This i know because of how many times we’ve had to talk about us. He knows everyone around me and I’m sure if he had more friends and family to show i would have known them. How can Josh just show up because he thinks he can, how???

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