The Roots
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Before fake drugs kill all of us, by Dayo Thomas
As I write this article, my heart is heavy with grief. I’m paying tribute to my late brother-in-law, Mr. Sunday Jiya, and countless other innocent Nigerians who have lost their lives to counterfeit medications. My brother-in-law, fondly called “Boda Sunday,” had purchased a familiar medication, expecting to recover from his illness. Instead, his health rapidly deteriorated, and he tragically passed…
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Let us return to our villages, by Dayo Thomas
Growing up in Ponyan, my village in Kogi State, I experienced the simplicity and fulfillment of rural life. After leaving in 1986, my appreciation for village life only deepened. If the government were to restore social infrastructure to rural areas today, I will return to the village next day. To my fellow Nigerians, I confidently say that there’s no life…
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Farewell to primary education in Nigeria, by Dayo Thomas
I recently returned to my village, Ponyan in Kogi State, and visited my former primary school, accompanied by my nephew. As we walked through the familiar grounds, a wave of emotions washed over me, and I struggled to catch my breath. Memories of my adventures with my friends, Oye Babatimehin and others, flooded my mind. Before me lay the remnants…
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Magic in the banking halls, by Dayo Thomas
When I was in the village in the 1980s, there was a group of individuals who carried out strange activities that defied reason but were known only to the initiated. It was called magic. Back then, crowds would gather in profound amazement to watch money disappear from one person, only to reappear in another’s pocket. It was abracadabra—the more you…
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