Jama'atul Islamiyya Nursery, Primary and Secondary School, Kano.

It's Monday morning my people, let’s talk from the heart today.

Too many times, I hear people say, “Abeg, I’m not an English teacher. I just need to speak small to pass my message.” But have you ever paused to think about who is listening when you speak?

It’s not just you and your friends. It’s the little ones—your children, your students, your nieces and nephews—those innocent ears that are learning how to express themselves by watching you.

Let’s be honest. You may not realize it, but you are your child’s first English teacher.
Before that teacher in school corrects them, they have already learnt your voice, your tone, your words. If you say “I am coming” when you mean “I’ll be right back,” they’ll grow up believing that’s correct. If you say “He is my junior brother,” they’ll repeat it confidently in public.

This isn’t about forming accent or trying to sound “posh.”
No. It’s about communication, confidence, and legacy.

When a child learns to speak well, they carry themselves differently. They express ideas boldly. They stand in any gathering and speak with clarity and pride.
That is power.
And that power begins with you—the parent, the teacher, the caregiver.

You see, English may not be our mother tongue, but it has become the language of schools, of opportunity, of global connection. So if we truly want our children to thrive beyond our walls, we must give them the gift of good English—not just in books, but in daily speech.

When you say, “What is you people’s problem?” in front of a child, that becomes their English.
When you say, “He did not used to come,” you are unknowingly teaching error as truth.
And tomorrow, that same child will struggle to unlearn what could have been taught right.

My dear mothers, teachers, aunties, uncles—this is bigger than grammar.
It’s about planting confidence in the next generation.

Because when a child speaks right, they think right.
When they think right, they see possibilities.
And when they see possibilities, they ri

Shout out to my newest followers! Excited to have you onboard! Abbas Yusuf, Anas Yahaya

Update: Ladies And Gentlemen... Osaze Odemwingie; One Of The Few Players That Snubbed Russia And Uzbekistan To Play For Nigeria 🇳🇬🦅

The former player was born in Uzbekistan to a Nigerian father and a Russian mother 🏋️

He grew up and traced his root back to Benin, where featured for Bendel Insurance in early 2000💪🏿

He would go on to later player for Nigeria, helping national teams win laurels and make money for the coffers🏆

Representing Nigeria he won🔥

Summer Olympics silver medal🥈
Africa Cup of Nations third place 🥉(3 Times)

Thank you Osaze Odemwingie... We appreciate your service to our Fatherland 🙌🏿

We wish you more Good Life 🌹

remember how I was suspended in my secondary school and asked to bring my parents. I didn't know how my father got to know, because I didn't call him for obvious reasons anyway. I had spent two weeks hiding around the dormitory.
On a Monday morning he showed up with my mother. He sounded so friendly and was speaking in my defence. Actually, it was the way my father sounded when he landed at the school gate that encouraged my friends to fish me out. They were hopeful my father would give the school a fight.

Immediately they fished me out of the carpenter's shed, where I had turned to my home, I went to my father boiling for a fight. I had my story well crafted with the help of my friends anyway. My father asked me to take him to the VP who dared to suspend me. I was confident he gonna show the woman.

But all along, my mum was sober and sad. She wasn't showing the same spirit my father was displaying. Who cares? My father is the 'Lord'.

Alas when we entered the VP's office, my father locked the door, opened his briefcase, brought out his double-headed koboko and work began. After like 12 lashes, my friends who had gathered by the window of the VP hoping to see how the fight between my father and Mrs Dada, the VP, would go disappeared into thin air. I was screaming like a goat, rolling on the floor begging my mum to stop him.

The VP was scared. I am sure she had never witnessed such bashing of a 14-year-old boy like that. None of the two women could hold my dad.

The VP rushed out, called two male teachers to help. I was rescued. The man opened his briefcase, tucked in his koboko, and left with my mum without saying a word to the VP.

Story ended. Case dismissed.

The VP who was full of pity. The message was clear to the school.

The VP took interest in me, and that was the turning point of my life. I changed my ways, my friends, my attitude.

The VP became my unappointed guardian. My story changed for good

10-year-old son of 50cent wins best student award in US school, makes family proud | Scholarship Region 10-year-old son of 50cent wins best student award in US school, makes family proud