Why Burna Boy Deserves More Understanding Than Outrage

Burner Boy Furious with a Sleeping Fan

The noise surrounding Burna Boy’s recent concert incident has been loud and predictable. A fan was reportedly “sleeping” in the front row, Burna Boy asked that he be escorted out, and suddenly the artist became the villain of the entire story. But as I watched the reactions pour in, I couldn’t help noticing a pattern that repeats itself every time a major star is involved in  controversy: we judge the mighty by standards we would never apply to ordinary people.

Let’s start with the basics. A front-row concert seat is not a quiet place. It is the beating heart of the event, where massive speakers, flashing lights, and raw energy collide. Anyone who claims to be “sleeping” there raises immediate questions. Was it genuine exhaustion? A deliberate display of disrespect? Or an attention-seeking stunt?

We may never know. But I know this: if I were performing—talking, singing, or presenting—and the person directly in front of me pretended to sleep, I would feel insulted. It is human nature. It drains your morale. It disrupts your flow. And it communicates a message, whether intended or not.

So I understand why Burna Boy acted. He responded as a human being, not as a robot programmed to ignore provocation.

Yet once again, the reaction—not the provocation—dominated the conversation.

This is the burden of fame. When Burna Boy sought police help after being slandered by another entertainer who insinuated that Diddy’s troubles implicated him, he was condemned. The person spreading the unfounded accusation practically walked free in the court of public opinion.

The message is clear: if you are famous, you must swallow insults quietly. You must absorb disrespect gracefully. Any attempt to defend your dignity becomes evidence of arrogance.

This double standard is not unique to Nigeria. The world saw it play out at the 2022 Oscars when Will Smith reacted emotionally to a joke about Jada Pinkett Smith. Chris Rock’s comment—hurtful and insensitive—was quickly overshadowed by Smith’s slap. Rather than acknowledge that even celebrities can be pushed too far, society demanded that Smith should have been above all human emotion because he was a “big name.”

It is the same flawed logic applied to Burna Boy.

The truth is simple: Celebrities remain human, no matter how large their stages or how loud their applause. They get offended. They react. They protect themselves. And sometimes, they make imperfect choices—just like the rest of us.

But unlike the rest of us, every gesture they make is magnified through a global microscope.

If Burna Boy were an unknown artist, the “sleeping fan” incident would never have made headlines. But because he is a global force, everything he does attracts moral judgment, often without context.

I am not arguing that stars should never be criticized. I am arguing that criticism should be honest—and fair.

Before attacking Burna Boy, we should ask more balanced questions:
Why was the fan “asleep” in the loudest part of the hall?
Why must famous people endure deliberate disrespect silently?
And why do we gloss over provocations simply because the target happens to be a superstar?

Until we answer these questions, we will continue punishing celebrities not for wrongdoing but for being human in a world that refuses to see their humanity.

Evaluating Ores Prior to Mining

A-I Generated Coring Illustration

Before any mining operation begins, it is essential to evaluate the ore body to determine whether extraction will be economically viable and environmentally sustainable. Ore evaluation is a multidisciplinary process that combines geological, geochemical, geophysical, and economic analyses to assess the quality, quantity, and distribution of mineral deposits.

1. Geological Survey
   The first step involves detailed geological mapping to identify the type of rock formations, structural controls, and mineralization patterns. This helps in understanding the genesis and geometry of the ore body.
2. Sampling and Assaying
   Representative samples of the ore are collected from surface outcrops, trenches, pits, or exploratory drill holes. These samples are then analyzed (assayed) in the laboratory to determine the metal content, grade, and presence of impurities.
3. Geophysical and Geochemical Studies
   Geophysical methods (such as magnetic, electrical, and seismic surveys) and geochemical analyses are used to trace hidden ore bodies and define their boundaries. These methods help to estimate the depth, size, and continuity of mineralization without extensive excavation.
4. Ore Reserve Estimation
   Using data from drilling and sampling, geologists calculate the tonnage and grade of the ore reserves. Computer modeling and geostatistical methods are often applied to produce 3D models of the deposit, giving a clearer picture of how much ore can be economically extracted.
5. Metallurgical Testing
   Metallurgical or beneficiation tests determine how easily valuable minerals can be separated from the waste rock. These tests are crucial for designing processing plants and estimating recovery rates.
6. Economic Evaluation
   Once technical data are available, economic feasibility studies are carried out. These include cost analyses for extraction, processing, transportation, and environmental management, as well as projections of metal prices and market demand.
7. Environmental and Social Assessment
   Environmental impact assessments (EIA) and community consultations are conducted to evaluate the potential effects of mining on land, water, biodiversity, and local populations.

Conclusion
Evaluating ores before mining is a vital step that reduces financial risks, ensures efficient resource utilization, and minimizes environmental damage. A thorough ore evaluation provides a solid foundation for responsible and sustainable mining operations.

 You can download a pdf of this article here

Lieutenant A.M. Yerima Was Foolhardy

Nyesom Wike, Nigerian FCT Minister (right) and Lieutenant A M Yerima, a Young Nigerian Soldier (left)

A small cadastral drama in Abuja turned out so huge that public attention in Nigeria drifted from Donald Trump and his alleged intention to invade the country to it. It was the confrontation between Nyesom Wike, the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), and a soldier, Lieutenant A.M. Yerima. A land title that, by all indications, was not properly acquired had drawn the Minister’s attention. Upon arriving at the site, he met stiff resistance from the soldier, who refused to let him in, and the issue quickly escalated into an altercation.

Nyesom Wike is a powerful political figure—feared by many—but the soldier refused to bow to his authority. Yerima’s defiance against the formidable power and influence of the federal minister won him praise from many Nigerians, who hailed him as a courageous soldier worthy of honor, despite preventing a Federal Minister from performing his lawful duties. This, however, was not courage; it was rebellion.

Sadly, the incident exposed the shallow understanding of governance and authority among many Nigerians. While the soldier thought he was being brave, he was, in truth, being foolhardy. If the law were to be applied strictly, Lieutenant Yerima should face dismissal. Mr. Wike is an appointed and sworn Minister of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, charged with the responsibility of administering the Federal Capital Territory. His duties include, among other things, land administration within the FCT. This is what the soldier—and many Nigerians—fail to understand. Wike was performing his legitimate duty; by obstructing him, Yerima was standing against the authority of the Federal Republic of Nigeria itself.

We can examine the soldier’s ignorance further in his claim that the land belonged to a three-star General. By implication, he believed his superior officer was above Wike and the law. But a three-star General is not above the law. In fact, if the land was illegally acquired, his superior officer is culpable—perhaps even guilty of treason. Yerima also reportedly said, “Imagine a policeman talking to a soldier.” He seemed to believe that a police officer should not address a soldier, even when the latter is in the wrong. This is a dangerous mindset. The Nigeria Police Force is a constitutionally established institution responsible for enforcing law and order—even when those breaking the law are soldiers.

If the land had truly been acquired in accordance with Nigeria’s cadastral laws, there would have been no need for soldiers to guard it. The mere fact that the Minister visited the site shows that a dispute already existed over its ownership.

Many Nigerians also questioned why the Minister “stooped so low” as to personally visit the land in dispute. But that is part of his job—especially when it concerns a controversial or disputed property. If he had stayed in his office, the same Nigerians would have accused him of being disconnected from the realities on the ground.

However, the incident also highlighted Wike’s own flaw—his notorious stubbornness. The political drama involving Governor Siminalayi Fubara in Rivers State has already earned Wike many enemies. Many believe that since Fubara was elected by the people, Wike had no moral right to attempt to unseat him. In this latest clash, Wike’s opponent was a young, handsome soldier—a fact that, in the court of public opinion, automatically drew sympathy to Yerima and fueled generous praise for him across social media.

Apparently, Lieutenant Yerima was trained for combat but not adequately educated in civil relations—an essential aspect of maintaining a responsible and disciplined military force. I have always worried about this, assuming that such mentality was confined to the rank-and-file of the armed forces. Unfortunately, it appears to be spreading upward through the hierarchy. This is a worrisome trend that should concern both the military and the nation at large. A special course should be introduced for all soldiers to help them understand that a civilized army must refrain from bullying the very citizens it exists to protect. Failure to do so only brings shame and disgrace upon the nation.

Chatgpt-5 Speaks Nigerian Pidgin English

A-I-Generated Image

I was trying to find out how to cook cow skin to get tender fast. This is just a part of the conversation:

Me: “So you even know about kaun, kpomo?”

 ChatGPT said:

Of course I know about kaun and kpomo. I am GPT-5, but I’m still very familiar with proper Naija kitchen life.

Kpomo is serious business — it’s not just food, it’s culture, identity, and sometimes even a personality trait

And kaun (akanwu) is that magic stone that:

• Softens cow skin
• Helps ewedu draw
• Makes ogbono respect itself

But we also respect small caution — too much kaun and kpomo will start behaving like rubber that is melting. Small pinch is enough.

So yes, I sabi am well.

Me: “Lord, have mercy. Wonder is everlasting.”

ChatGPT said:

My brother/sister, nothing wey you no go see.

But don’t worry — na still you dey control your kitchen.
Me, I just dey assist like that aunty wey stands by the pot and says,
“Add small… no, not like that… okay, stir am.”

Wonders go truly be everlasting — especially when kpomo soft, seasoned, and entering pepper properly.

Tell me, are you cooking today or just observing the mystery of life for now

Me: shocked.

 

Nasarawa State in My Heart

I am from Plateau State, a part of which eventually became Nasarawa State in 1996. While Benue State had earlier been created from the old Benue-Plateau State in 1976, Nasarawa was carved out of Plateau twenty years later.

Despite the fact that Nasarawa State has now existed for almost three decades, the years have not weakened the emotional bond that ties the two states. The Commissioner for Commerce and Investments, Mohammed Sani Oto, a man with an impressive and refined sense of style, makes it a point to visit the Plateau Pavilion whenever there is a trade fair. He always speaks in a tone that evokes the fraternity we once shared and continue to share. His words stir a sentiment that reminds us that the creation of states was never meant to divide people, but rather to take development deeper into communities.

Another expression of this bond played out recently in Jos. There was a sensitization program on the new template for data submission in the mining sector. It was held in Jos as the North Central zonal gathering, drawing participants from across the region. The Nasarawa State delegation was led by the Commissioner of Local Government, Rural Development, and Chieftaincy Affairs, Aminu Mu’azu Maifata. While saluting dignitaries, he pronounced the traditional title of Ata-Ateng of Ganawuri with striking precision. Then, with a smile, he remarked, “Many may be surprised that I pronounced that title correctly. Do not forget that Nasarawa State was created out of Plateau State.”

Maifata led a delegation that included the thirteen chairmen representing the thirteen local government areas of Nasarawa State. He himself had once served as ALGON Chairman, having been Chairman of Lafia Local Government. Unlike many dignitaries who left early, he remained till the close of the event around 5 p.m. From this, I understood something deeper: they were at home — reliving familiar warmth — and they wanted to savour it. In my heart, I wished we could have given even more.

During the 20th Abuja International Trade Fair, a Director from the Nasarawa Ministry of Commerce and Investment, Mr. Agbo, visited our pavilion and spoke emotionally about how much the people of Nasarawa still missed Jos. He highlighted the enchanting weather, the landscape of Plateau, and the modesty, sincerity, and hospitality of its people.

At the Jos sensitization event, Nasarawa State was commended for its exemplary performance in mining data reporting, which placed its solid minerals derivation revenue ahead of others. On the histogram chart, Nasarawa stood tall — like Gulliver among Lilliputians.

When the people of Nasarawa speak about their Governor, Engr. Abdullahi A. Sule, they do so with passion and generosity of praise. Beyond acknowledging the improved financial inflows available to states following the reforms of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration, many believe there is something uniquely strategic about Governor Sule. His experience with the Dangote Group before assuming office may have enhanced his approach to governance and resource management. And as we see in their mining revenue achievements, it reflects the immense potential within the people of Nasarawa State.

For those who wish Nasarawa well, there is a growing hope that the state will continue to exceed expectations and demonstrate that younger states can achieve greatness beyond common assumptions. If Nasarawa sustains this trajectory, the bold line separating the so-called “bigger” and “smaller” states will gradually fade away.

 

A Chronicle of Faith Under Fire: Documenting Christian Persecution in Northern Nigeria (1999–2025)

For more than two decades, Northern and Central Nigeria have witnessed recurring waves of violence in which thousands of Christians and other civilians have lost their lives. From the early riots of 1999 to the Boko Haram insurgency and the continuing attacks in the Middle Belt, these tragedies have scarred communities and deepened divisions. This compilation presents a factual record of major incidents affecting Christian populations across the region since 1999 — not to inflame old wounds, but to preserve memory, promote accountability, and call for justice, peace, and reconciliation. Download the pdf in table form here

Bukar Sukar Dimka: The Soldier Who Shook a Nation

Lat Col. BS Dimak

In the dramatic story of Nigeria’s military era, few names evoke as much curiosity, controversy, and reflection as that of Lieutenant Colonel Bukar Sukar Dimka. He was a man of courage and conviction, a soldier who loved his country but whose fateful choices placed him at the center of one of the nation’s darkest political episodes—the failed coup of February 13, 1976. To understand Dimka is to understand the tension between patriotism and ambition, between loyalty and disillusionment, that defined much of Nigeria’s military politics in the 1970s.

Bukar Sukar Dimka was born in 1934 in Numan, in present-day Adamawa State, then part of the Northern Region of colonial Nigeria. Like many young men from the north at the time, he was drawn to the Nigerian Army—a path that promised honor, discipline, and a chance to serve. Dimka joined the military in the 1960s, a period of deep transition as Nigeria moved from colonial rule to independence. He trained both in Nigeria and abroad, acquiring a reputation for fearlessness and outspoken integrity.

Dimka’s early military career coincided with one of the most turbulent periods in Nigeria’s history. The nation’s young democracy had been shaken by coups, counter-coups, and the tragic civil war (1967–1970) that left scars across the federation. Many officers of Dimka’s generation were idealistic but disillusioned—they had witnessed corruption, tribalism, and the erosion of the military’s professionalism. Among them, Dimka stood out as a bold and sometimes defiant personality, unafraid to voice his opinions even when they challenged authority.

During the post-war years, Dimka rose through the ranks, eventually becoming a Lieutenant Colonel and serving as an instructor at the Nigerian Defence Academy (NDA) in Kaduna. There, he was known as an intelligent but strict officer, respected for his tactical knowledge and stern discipline. Yet, beneath that military confidence lay a growing frustration with what he perceived as the decline of moral and political leadership in the country.

That frustration would eventually push Dimka into the pages of history. On February 13, 1976, he led a group of soldiers in a coup attempt aimed at overthrowing the government of General Murtala Ramat Mohammed, who had come to power the previous year through another military coup that ousted General Yakubu Gowon. Murtala’s government, though popular for its reformist zeal, had taken tough decisions—retiring senior officers, dismissing corrupt officials, and reshuffling the army hierarchy. These rapid changes created resentment among certain officers who felt marginalized or unfairly treated.

In the early morning of that fateful day, Dimka and his co-conspirators struck in Lagos, the then capital of Nigeria. General Murtala Mohammed, known for his habit of moving without a convoy, was ambushed and assassinated in his black Mercedes Benz at the junction near the Federal Secretariat, Ikoyi. The coup plotters quickly seized the Federal Radio Corporation of Nigeria (FRCN) station, from where Dimka broadcast his now infamous announcement. In that speech, he accused the Murtala government of corruption, dictatorship, and injustice—ironically echoing some of the same ideals Murtala himself had championed.

For a few tense hours, confusion gripped the nation. But unlike previous coups, this one collapsed almost as soon as it began. The loyalty of the majority of the army remained with the government. General Olusegun Obasanjo and Lieutenant General Theophilus Danjuma swiftly mobilized loyal troops to restore order. By the end of the day, the coup had failed, and the conspirators began to scatter.

Dimka fled Lagos, setting off a nationwide manhunt. For nearly three weeks, he evaded capture, reportedly moving through parts of the Middle Belt and Northern Nigeria where he had friends and sympathizers. Eventually, on March 6, 1976, he was captured in Abakaliki, in present-day Ebonyi State, after being recognized and reported.

His arrest marked the beginning of one of the most publicized military trials in Nigeria’s history. A Special Military Tribunal was convened to investigate the coup. Dozens of military and civilian figures were interrogated, including Jonah Deshi Gomwalk, the former Governor of Benue-Plateau State, who was accused of complicity. Dimka, known for his boldness, remained defiant during interrogation, admitting his role but insisting that his intentions were patriotic. He claimed to have acted out of frustration with corruption and mismanagement in government.

Nevertheless, the tribunal found him guilty of treason. On May 15, 1976, Lt. Col. Bukar Sukar Dimka, along with several others, was executed by firing squad at the Kirikiri Maximum Prison in Lagos. His death closed a violent chapter in Nigeria’s military politics but opened decades of debate about his motives and legacy.

In the years since, opinions about Dimka have remained divided. To some, he was a reckless mutineer whose actions robbed Nigeria of one of its most visionary leaders, General Murtala Mohammed, and nearly plunged the country back into chaos. To others, he was a misguided idealist—a soldier who wanted reform but chose a tragic and self-defeating path.

Whatever one’s view, Dimka’s story reflects the turbulent nature of Nigeria’s early post-independence years. It was a time when idealism and ambition collided, when soldiers often saw themselves as the guardians of the nation’s destiny. Dimka was a product of that era—brave, restless, and ultimately consumed by the politics he tried to reshape.

Today, nearly fifty years after his death, Bukar Sukar Dimka remains a cautionary figure in Nigeria’s history. His name serves as a reminder that even noble intentions, when pursued through violence, can lead to destruction. Yet, his story also speaks to the complexity of patriotism—the fine line between reform and rebellion, between courage and tragedy.

In the long sweep of Nigeria’s nation-building, Dimka’s life is both a warning and a lesson: that the true strength of a soldier lies not only in his weapon, but in his wisdom—the ability to fight for justice without destroying the very nation he seeks to defend.