Excel Educational Institute

In Nigeria, each time someone comes on social media; if it’s not Yahoo or Cross dressers it will either be a mistakenly LEAKED n**es or S*x tapes, or Rituals talk and lies, selling unnecessary fear to trend.

A country where the only thing musicians sing of is W**D ALCOHOL S*X AND GLORIFIED FRAUD, where Youtuber is making money than an Engineer, where a skit makers with a useless and immoral contents makes more money than an Economist, where a Fraudster is glorified and celebrated than a very hardworking citizen (Most of them will even be honored and given chieftaincy titles in their community).

A country where people do silly things to trend and make fame, where a musician is openly encouraging youths to dump out of university and becomes a fraudster. A country where hustle is term to be ILLEGALLY MADE MONEY AND WEALTH. A country that Pastors and Alfas’ makes money off people’s gullibility.

Gone are the days people learn handwork as another means of survival aside from modern Education, now every young boys want to be a house owner, drives exotic cars at age 17.

A country where there’s lack of Moral and Ethical decency. Parents now support their Children to do Evil and perpetuate Fraudulent transactions. Multinational brands now gives ambassadorial deals to Prostitutes in the name of Influencers and Actresses BUT neglect the intellectual minds and brilliant educationalists.

To advertise and promote brands in Nigeria, you need to either be a drug addicts or n**e dresser, or a cross dresser with immoral behavior and content RATHER than be a Graduate, or an intellectual achiever.

Gone are the days of Bino and Fino, Spelling Bee, Cowbellpedia, The Debaters, Who want to be a Millionaire and likes. Now, all we see is Big Brother Naija, Skits, Twerkers and Cross dressers live on IG et al....!

Na like this e go dey go????
A country on Auto Pilot 😢 🤦🏻‍♂️

Lanre Ibrahim (Excel)

Reign of Terror – The Story of Ejigbadero, The King of Land Grabbers & story behind popular Raji Oba street at Alimosho local government.

As you go from Iyana Ipaja to Egbeda in Alimosho, Lagos State, Raji Oba Street is to your left. It is one of the most popular streets in the area. It is the street that hosts the imposing complex of Bishop David Oyedepo’s Winner Chapel. There is a branch of Diamond Bank close to Moshalasi Bus Stop that leads to the street. It is a street that you can’t miss. Ha! You know the street? I told you it’s a street you can’t miss.

However in the 1970s when this true-life story began, there was no Raji Oba Street. There was no Winner Chapel building. There was no Diamond Bank. In fact, almost all of what is now one of the most densely populated areas in Lagos State was a forest. Except for some rural settlements scattered here and there, the entire Alimosho was a village.

So who was Raji Oba? Why was the street named after him? Is there a story behind the naming of the street after him? What happened that fateful night in 1975? You know you cannot make eba without garri? To tell you the story of Raji Oba, I must tell you the story of Ejigbadero.

Raji Oba's story is Ejigbadero's story. Ejigbade's story is Raji Oba's story. It was a story that shook the entire Lagos State to its foundation. My uncle who was then a young surveyor told me that for years, some people were scared of going to the area once it was nightfall.

Jimoh Ishola was arguably one of the famous people in Lagos of 1960s and 1970s. He was rich. He was streetwise. He was known. He was connected. He was the darling of musicians of the day. One of the surest ways to launch a musical career then was to sing about Ejigbadero. Yusuf Olatunji (Baba Legba) devoted substantial part of his Volume 19 to sing his praises. Baba Commander, Ebenezer Obey and his Inter Reformers Band, celebrated him in his 1974 album.

If Nigeria was not under military rule in 1970s, Jimoh Ishola could have contested and won an elective political position. He was that famous.

Though Ejigbadero was not born in Lagos, he became the unofficial Lord Mayor of Lagos metropolis. Jimoh hailed from Oja-Oba Quarters in Ibadan, Oyo State. He came with his uncle to Lagos as a young man to learn a vocation. On his arrival Lagos, he quickly graduated from an apprentice to a company owner.

When he incorporated his company, Jimsol Nigeria Limited, he was not satisfied with just being called the Managing Director. Everybody in Lagos was MD. Gbadero must be different. He styled himself the Chairman and Chief Executive of the nail manufacturing company. His office and factory were at Matori in Mushin Lagos. Yusuf Olatunji was the musician invited to the company’s opening. With his sákárà and móló vibrating in the background, Baba Legba praised Gbadero to the high heavens. Overnight, Olatunji’s throaty “Gbadero Ishola di Chairman! Omo Adeyemi!” became the national anthem. Ejigbadero was the Chairman.

Nail manufacturing was however not Ishola’s only vocation. Over the years, Kiniun Baba Moradewun had acquired reputation as a dealer in landed properties. He bought land. He sold houses. If you needed someone to protect your landed interests, Ejigbadero was your man. If someone forcefully took over your land, Abibatu’s husband was your best bet. If your own interest was to take over someone’s land, Baba Gani was the person you needed to see.

Ejigbadero was known to the police. He was familiar to the judges as a perennial litigant. And one curious thing about his court appearances is that he was never a plaintiff. He was always the defendant. He was popular with lawyers. At a point, he was reputed to know the criminal code more than some lawyers. He used to ‘advise’ his lawyer to cite section 45 subsection 3 instead of section 33 subsection 1 that the lawyer wanted to cite. He had done enough cases to make him a Senior Advocate if he was called to the Bar.

In 1975, Ejigbadero went with his boys to clear his land in Alimosho Village. The land was full of cocoa and kolanut trees. Remember I told you that Alimosho was a village in 1970s. The land we are talking about is not one plot or two plots. It was a vast area of land. When the villagers saw their economic trees going down, they challenged Jimoh Ishola and his boys. The Lord Mayor informed the villagers that he had purchased the land in 1970s. Purchased? Which Land? From whom? For how much? Who witnessed the transaction? Who collected the money? These and more were the questions the villagers were throwing at Ejigbadero who was calmly leaning on his walking stick.

The villagers refused to allow Eji and his boys to continue to work on the land. The Boys looked at their Boss. They were waiting for the signal. The walking stick was the signal. This was not the first time they would be challenged over a parcel of land and they knew it wouldn’t be the last. They knew that once Ejigbadero stepped on any land, the land must become his. Eji was like a snail. Ìgbín tenu mo igi o gun! Any tree a snail touches must be climbed. Eji smiled at the crowd. It was not a friendly smile. The Boys looked expectant. Instead of Eji to raise the walking stick, he turned back. The Boys followed him, their disappointment was apparent.

The villagers shouted after the retreating figures. “We don win! We don win. You think you can just take our land like that. Never! Never!” Some of them were however not shouting. They knew that the retreat of Ejigbadero was not a surrender. They knew that he would be back. The Chairman was not the one to run away from a fight. The Boss was a vulture, a patient bird.

They remember what happened to Okuwobi in 1962. Ejigbadero had informed his boys that he was looking for a buyer for one of his properties. He promised them generous commission. The boys went to town. Okuwobi indicated interest in the building. It was a building under construction. Okuwobi paid part of the agreed purchase price. It was agreed that the balance would be paid upon completion.

Okuwobi collected receipt and began to dream of becoming a landlord in Lagos. He was considering whether to paint the house blue or grey. Or green, or cream. He finally decided on white. He had heard that the official residence of the American president was White House. It was then that a friend told him that the house, his house, had been sold to someone else. Okuwobi didn’t know whether he walked or flew to Mushin. He shouted. He threatened. Ejigbadero was unmoved. Okuwobi reported to the police. He was advised to go to court. He spent more than 10 years in court.

The villagers knew that they must act fast if they didn’t want to spend 10 years in court. At the time, the nearest police post was at Agege. They went to Agege Police Station to make a report of malicious damages to property against Ejigbadero. As they were writing their statements, the Chairman himself appeared with his boys. He had come to lodge a report of trespass against the villagers who entered his property without his permission. The police officers were confused. They attempted to broker a peaceful settlement. No way. Ejigbadero wanted his land. The villagers wanted their land. Who then was the owner of the land?

Police assured the warring parties that the case would be investigated. They were asked to go and maintain peace.

Raji Oba was one of the villagers. He was as brave as he was vocal. He was not afraid of Ejigbadero and he told him to his face. Even when Ejigbadero threatened to kill him, the threat was met with a sneer. “Igbá ni won n pa, enikan kii pa àwo” was his retort. He was confident that only calabash could be smashed with foot, no one would dare drop a plate.

Police investigation or no police investigation, Ejigbadero was not the one to keep away from the land. Raji Oba had finished work on the farm for the day. He was almost at home when he was informed that the Chairman was around with his thugs who he usually described as his workers. Raji turned back. Ma fi oko mi se ona, ojo kan ni a n dekun re. Raji was determined that he was going to stop the land grabber that day. He was followed by some of the villagers who had also heard the news.

They met Ejigbadero on the land. His boys were cutting cocoa trees with ruthless determination. Kolanut trees were not being spared either. Raji Oba flared up. A big fight erupted. Ejigbadero stood like a rock. He was commanding his boys to give it to the villagers like an army general. In the free-for-all that followed, Ejigbadero saw his chance as Raji Oba moved close to him. In a moment he had stabbed him. Raji didn’t see the dagger, but he felt the blood flowing from his eyebrow. It was clear that Jimoh Ishola was aiming for his eye. “Mo ku o!” The villagers heard the agony in the voice of their leader and rushed to his aid.

They took him to the hospital and from there to the police station. They made a report of criminal assault and attempted murder against Ishola. Police promised diligent investigation. But it appeared to the villagers that the police at Agege belonged to the Lion of Mushin.

Back at his base in Mushin, Ejigbadero was not happy. He had expected the villagers to put up the usual feeble resistance. He had planned how to subdue them. After all, ‘ibeji kii se akopa aje’. Killing twins is not a new thing to a witch. But he had not expected the stiff opposition he met in Alimosho. He knew the cause of the problem. It was Raji Oba. What type of Oba was he that he would stop Ejigbadero, Kiniun Baba Moradewun?

“Baba Fatai, your food is ready.” Ejigbadero looked up. It was his youngest wife, Ramota. Though he was not particularly hungry, he didn’t want to displease the pregnant woman. He told her to bring the food. At the sight of the expectant mother, an idea started to form in his mind. He smiled. Ramota thought her husband was enjoying the meal. She was pleased.

It was in the month of August 1975 that Lagos social circle heard the news it had been waiting. Ramota, Ejigbadero’s wife had put to bed. Socialites knew what to expect. It was going to be a grand occasion. It was going to be an assemblage of Lagos who’s who. It was going to be the party of the century. And it was a Friday! TGIF!

True to expectation, Ejigbadero didn’t spare any expenses for the naming ceremony. Food was in excess. Wines replaced water. Musicians were competing with themselves on the bandstand. The blind requested to be led to the occasion. The lame crawled. Ejigbadero and his four wives were dressed in a manner befitting a king and his Oloris. They were a spectacle to behold.

Sabitu Oba was Raji Oba’s wife. She was coming back from the market when she saw Ejigbadero and his boys. A woman was in their midst. She was shocked to see the Chairman. They had heard in the village that his wife had delivered a baby and that the day was the naming ceremony. She was wondering what type of man would leave his baby’s naming ceremony to come to the village. Well, that’s his business, she thought.

Sabitu quickened her pace. She needed to warn her husband of the presence of the chairman in the village. It was already dusk but the moon had appeared. It wouldn’t be nice for Raji to be roaming the village at such a time when Ejigbadero was around. She met her husband reclining in front of their house. She heaved a sigh of relief.

She informed her husband that Ejigbadero was in the village. Raji Oba was also surprised. He had heard that Ejigbadero was holding a lavish party that day in Mushin. So what was he doing in the village? And why did he choose to come to the village at dusk. “I hope he has not come to bury charms on the land!” His wife suggested.

She had hardly finished speaking when she heard an explosion. GBOAH! Raji Oba fell from his seat with a thud! Sabitu jumped in alarm! Raji had been shot in the head. The wounded man began to groan in pain. Blood was oozing from the wound.

Sabitu turned to the direction where the sound of the explosion had come from. Smoke from gunpowder was drifting up to the clear moonlight sky. She saw seven people running away towards a nearby bush. She distinctly recognized Ejigbadero. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt and trousers. He was holding a gun. He was at the rear of the fleeing people. Her temporary shock over, Sabitu shouted at the retreating figures: “Ejigbadero mo ri e o! Ara Abule! Ejigbadero ti pa mi loko o!”

Back in Mushin, the naming party was in full swing! Ejigbadero was moving from table to table, exchanging banters with his friends and well-wishers. Remember I told you that Ejigbadero was well connected in the society. His guests that night included magistrates, lawyers, police officers and leading journalists of the day. Camera bulbs were flashing as Ejigbadero posed for photographs with his guests. It was a party that Mushin would remember for a long time.

Police officers in Agege were already familiar with Alimosho villagers. There was hardly a week that they would not come to the station to report one incident or another. On the evening of August 22, 1975, the police officers on duty heard the crowd from a distance. Alimosho people have come again! What has happened again? The officers wondered.

“Ejigbadero ti pa Raji o!”

The officers knew that Yoruba language was full of hyperbolic expressions. A mere tap on the cheek could lead to a shout of ‘Mo ku o! O ti pa mi o!” They were however shocked when they realized that Raji had actually been killed. This was not a case of Mo gbe! Mo ku! Mo daran! The villagers were unanimous that it was Ejigbadero that killed Raji.

Ejigbadero was in company of late party guests in his house when the police came. He was informed that his attention was needed at their station. He was wanted in connection with the murder of Raji Oba. Ejigbadero’s visitors did not allow him to speak before they jumped to his defence! “When? Where? Ejigbadero who did not step out of this Mushin throughout yesterday!”

The Lion of Mushin was confident of himself. His defence was as solid as a rock. His alibi was incontrovertible. He had judges, lawyers, police officers and journalists as his witnesses. What more could he want? He retained Chief Sobo Sowemimo, a highly experienced advocate, as his counsel. His case was good. He knew. On the other side was the Lagos State Director of Public Prosecution, Mr. Omotunde Ilori.

As the prosecution began its case, Ejigbadero was becoming rather impatient. He knew the trial was going to be a waste of his time. Mr. Ilori called Sabitu Oba to the witness box. She narrated the event of the day. Ishola was smiling throughout her testimony. Who would believe the testimony of a village woman?

Mr. Ilori then called Nimota Kelani, Sabitu’s neighbour. Nimota’s evidence was straightforward. She informed the court that on hearing the alarm raised by Sabitu to the effect that Ejigbadero had killed Raji Oba, she dashed out of her house. She also saw Ejigbadero running away towards the bush. She saw him clearly in the moonlight. She also called on the accused telling him that she saw him and reminded him that he had kept his promise to kill Raji.

Rafiu Latifu was another witness called by the learned DPP. Latifu testified that on the evening of August 22, he was returning to the village when he saw a white Peugot 504 station wagon parked by the side of a mosque a distance of two minutes to the house of Raji Oba. He also saw Ejigbadero and six other persons, one of whom was a woman, run out of a nearby bush towards the parked car.

On arrival at the premises of Raji Oba he met people who told him that Ejigbadero had killed the deceased, who was still lying on the ground and bleeding from the head. Latifu then told the people that he had seen Ejigbadero and six other persons running out of the bush but did not know at the time that he had already killed Raji.

It was at this point that Ejigbadero began to doubt his defence. Awodi oke ko mo pe ara ile n wo ohun. Like the hawk he had assumed that he was invisible to the people below. If he had known how diligent the DPP, Mr. Omotunde Ilori was, perhaps he would not have been too confident with his alibi. Ha! You don’t know ‘alibi’? It’s a Latin word. It means ‘elsewhere’. It is a piece of evidence that one was elsewhere when an act, typically a criminal one, is alleged to have taken place. I hope you are following me.

There was a policeman who was riding a bike that night who also recognized him. Remember I told you that Ejigbadero was as popular as Iya Agba’s a*o onisuga. A*o onisuga was very common in the 60s and 70s. The design on it was in the shape of a cube. Just like a cube of sugar, hence the name. Ilori found the police officer. Ilori also found two women who saw Ejigbadero when they were coming from the farm with firewood on their head. Immediately they saw him, they ran into the bush.

Ejigbadero’s defence was straightforward. He was in Mushin on August 22. He didn’t step out of his house. He had witnesses who were eminent people in the society. He called Bashiru Ajape, a police officer; Jacob Oyelakin, a Manager with Leventis Motors; and Emmanuel George, a lawyer. They all testified that they were with Baba Gani at his baby's naming ceremony that day. The court considered the evidence of these eminent personalities and found each of them to be 'miserably untruthful in the evidence they gave'.

Tried as much as he could, Gbadero could not disprove the testimonies of the prosecution witnesses. The best cross-examination failed to crack the witnesses. They were all adamant. It was Ejigbadero that they saw that night. It was Ejigbadero that killed Raji Oba.

The trial judge took his time to review the case for the prosecution as well as the case for the defence. A life was at stake and mistake must not be made. The judge found the evidence of a security guard in the employment of Ejigbadero helpful. Kehinde Yekinni was the security guard employed to guard Ishola's factory. He testified that Ejigbadero came to the factory in the evening and later left for Alimosho with Modina, Osadebey, Isiaka, Bakare, Wahab Oduntan, and Lukman. The group later returned to meet him at the factory around 9pm. On their return, Ejigbadero drew out a gun from underneath his trousers and told Kehinde that he (Ishola) had killed the man that Kehinde refused to kill.

In the end, the judge found that Mr. Ilori had proved the case for prosecution beyond rea*onable doubt. Jimoh Ishola was found guilty on the two counts: conspiracy to murder and murder.

He was sentenced to death. As the trial judge, My Lord Justice Ishola Oluwa, pronounced the sentence of death on him, Ejigbadero turned to his counsel and in his Ibadan accent asked, turning his nose to indicate His Lordship: “Emi ni n wi?” What was the Judge saying?

Jimoh Ishola appealed the judgment to the then Federal Court of Appeal. My Lords: Mamman Nasir, Adetunji Ogunkeye and Ijoma Aseme considered his appeal. His appeal in respect of Count One (conspiracy to murder) was allowed, meaning he was not guilty of that charge. His appeal in respect of the second count failed and the appellate court affirmed his conviction.

This time around, Ejigbadero did not bother to ask his counsel what their Lordships were saying. He had spent enough time in court to know the meaning of ‘Appeal is hereby dismissed.’

Off to the Supreme Court. His case was the 7th case filed in the Supreme Court in 1977. On Thursday, October 26, 1978, a panel of the Supreme Court comprising My Lords: Alexander, Fatai-Williams, Irikefe, Bello and Idigbe affirmed his conviction and dismissed his appeal.

In 1979, four years after the gruesome murder of Raji Oba, Jimoh Ishola, alias Ejigbadero, alias the Chairman, alias Kininun Baba Moradewun paid the supreme price.

What a price to pay for a piece of land!

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The Origin Of ‘Iyawo’, The Yoruba Word For Wife !!!
It is unknown to many speakers of the Yoruba language that the original Yoruba word for wife is ‘aya’ and not the commonly used ‘Iyawo’.
Back in the early years of the Yoruba people, the word Iyawo did not have a place in the Yoruba language not until an incident brought about its coinage and usage. OldNaija present you the origin of the Yoruba word Iyawo.
Origin of the Yoruba word Iyawo:
Long ago in Yoruba land, a beautiful princess and daughter of the first king of Iwo town named Wuraola was in the quest of getting herself a patient, tolerant and well mannered husband.
Strong and good looking men, the likes of Sango, Ogun and others, had already traveled to Iwo town to seek the hand of Wuraola in marriage but left not with a wife but uncontrollable anger. Wurola had been rude to everyone of them. In fact, she hurled insults and curses at her suitors which made them all leave on the same day they arrived the town of Iwo because they couldn’t tolerate her bad behaviors.
Orunmila, a good looking man, also journeyed to Iwo in the bid to win the hand of Wuraola in marriage. But before he set out, he had already consulted Olodumare, the supreme being, through Ifa. Olodumare revealed to Orunmila that he must be patient with Wuraola and endure her behaviors no matter how bad they are in order to succeed in the quest of marrying Wuraola.
When Orunmila got to the palace of the king of Iwo, he was greeted with a hiss and scornful look by Wuraola. The unperturbed Orunmila smiled and returned her greetings with kind and sweet words and also presented gifts to the king.
Orunmila stayed in Iwo for seven days which can be described as nothing but a hell on earth. Wuraola didn’t serve Orunmila water let alone food. She insulted the goodness out of Orunmila but he stayed calm and smiled at her. He even smiled when she used his opon ifa (divination board) as firewood and when she took his pouch (apo ominijekun) from him. Though, Orunmila boiled with rage, still, he didn’t show it or leave Iwo according to the instructions of Olodumare.
On the sixth day of Orunmila’s stay in Iwo town, the king of Iwo gave Wuraola in marriage to him after concluding that he is a patient, kind and tolerant man suitable to marry his daughter. Meanwhile, Wuraola’s bad behaviors were planned to test her suitors so as to get her a husband with good manners and temper. She was a lovely, caring and well behaved lady. Orunmila was glad that he heeded to the instructions of Olodumare and on the seventh day, he and Wuraola journey back to his town.
Orunmila was welcomed and praised by his townspeople for his achievement. When they asked him about Wuraola, his wife, he responded, “Iya ti mo je ni Iwo” (my sufferings in Iwo) That was how wives became known as Iya-Iwo (sufferings in Iwo) and now Iyawo. So men don't be afraid or surprise by what u experience daily, it started from ages

*I am humbled by this piece and hereby recommend it for a SLOW reading. It could be helpful*.

A man’s character is his fate. Heraclitus Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States (US), said: “Nothing can stop the man with the *right mental attitude* from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the *wrong mental attitude*”

As a clergyman, I have watched pitiably how people self-sabotage themselves by seeking spiritual solutions to character-deficit issues. They look around at everybody as suspects for their predicaments when their greatest demons lurks within them - their character.

What we often call our destiny is truly our character, and since that character can change, then destiny can be altered. *Character is destiny* .

Is prayer actually EVERYTHING? Many would begin to argue back and forth on this intriguing question, but my main purpose of writing this piece is not to get involved in arguments. _Arguments don’t improve the validity of a ‘truth;’ they only determine how long it would take before you realise it._

Most people believe that we can pray ourselves to success and get away with virtually anything if we become a stickler to some prayer routines. There is no amount of spiritual penance that can substitute for character. Sometimes, you need character, not prayer.

Dutch Sheets said: *“Prayer is not a check request asking for things from God; it is a deposit slip- a way of depositing God’s character into our bankrupt souls.”*

British writer and politician, Thomas Macaulay (1800-1859), said: “ *The measure of a man’s character is what he would do if he knew he never would be found out.”* I have often said that what would ultimately destroy a man going to high places in life is not really the enemies that are waiting for him there, but the character that followed him there.

I want to emphatically underline the fact that this write-up is not meant to trivialise prayers in any way. I have observed that many people take character for granted, while overzealously tuning on into their spiritual mode.

We have become so spiritually in tune through prayers that we neglect the place of character and our relationship with people. Many are actually ‘heavenly’ bound, but with no earthly relevance. You can speak with spiritual eloquence, pray in public and maintain a holy appearance, but it is your behavior and character that will actually trigger the manifestation of all that God has for you.

*You must learn to treat people with courtesy* .
The Shunammite woman must have been praying for a child all through her life. By being hospitable to a man of God, she eventually got her much-awaited miracle. *It wasn’t prayer that opened the door for her; it was her character.* Assuming she wasn’t hospitable, she would have missed a critical miracle.

Many times, we pray, fast and bind demons that don’t exist when our real demons are just our greatly flawed character. _Many have insulted people that were divinely placed and orchestrated to help them fulfil their destiny._ Some people are keeping malice with their destiny helpers.

Treat people with respect.
Treat strangers with courtesy.
Never look down on anybody. God can use anyone to change your story.

Abigail Van Buren said: “The best index to a person’s character is _how he treats people who can’t do him any good, and how he treats people who can’t fight back.”_

You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him. The way we treat people we think can’t help or hurt us, like housekeepers, waiters, and secretaries, tells more about our character than how we treat people we think are important. _How do you treat people?_

One of the most impressive architectural feats and the greatest military defence project in history is the Great Wall of China. In 1987, UNESCO designated the Great Wall a World Heritage site, and a popular controversial claim that emerged in the 20th century holds that it is the only man-made structure that is visible from space.

Originally conceived by Emperor Qin Shi Huang (c. 259-210 B.C.) in the 3rd Century B.C. as a means of preventing incursions from Mongolians and barbarian nomads into the Chinese Empire, the wall is one of the most extensive construction projects ever completed.

History has it that when the ancient Chinese decided to live in peace, they made the Great Wall of China; they thought no one could climb it due to its height. During the first 100 years of its existence, the Chinese were invaded thrice and every time, the hordes of enemy infantry had no need of penetrating or climbing over the wall, because each time, they bribed the guards and came through the doors.

The Chinese built the wall, but forgot the character - building of the wall-guards. Though the Great Wall has over the years become a powerful symbol of the country’s enduring strength and spirit, it has actually been a good reminder to the Chinese of the superiority of human character. How many people and homes had been invaded, looted and devasted by the enemy through the bribery of ego, self indulgence, insincerity and unfaithfulness. The scriptures says ." *while men slept, the enemy came and sow tares into the harvest and go their way".*

*The Chinese realised much later that the best defence against the enemy is not a fortified wall, but a fortified character. Thus, the building of human character comes before building of anything else*.

Prayer is not EVERYTHING! Build relationships, build your family and don’t ever forget that God will always use man. Be mindful of your words and how you speak to people. Work seriously on your character and attitude towards life.

I want to say emphatically that *character is not optional;* it is sacrosanct to the future that God has planned for you and your home. No matter where you place prayers, character matters. *The greatest fraud in life is religion without character.* A man without character is recklessly alive.

William Shakespeare captured it succinctly when he said: *“The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves* .”

Peter Schutz, the former chief executive officer of Porsche said: “ *HIRE CHARACTER; TRAIN SKILLS* .”

Lastly, back in the days when Germany was divided, a huge wall separated East and West Berlin.

One day, some people in East Berlin took a truck load of garbage and dumped it on the West Berlin side.

The people of West Berlin could have done the same thing, but they didn't.

Instead they took a truck load of canned goods, bread, milk and other provisions, and neatly stacked it on the East Berlin side.

On top of this stack they placed the sign:

*“EACH GIVES WHAT HE HAS"*

How very true! You can only give what you have.

Be sincere ! What do you have inside of you?
Is it *hate* or *love* ?
*Violence* or *peace* ?
*Death* or *life* ?
*Capacity to build* or *capacity to destroy* ?

What have you acquired over the years?
*Team spirit* or *pull down* architecture ?

*"EACH GIVES WHAT HE HAS"*

Please, stay safe; read over and over these words , meditate on them & put them into practice. God bless you and your loved ones. Amen 🙏