Joni the Change Agent Int.

This what we used to be. This is what we missed. But this is what we now hate. This is what is repulsive and repugnant to us now. Rufai Oseni is not a “reasonable human being.” But the people that continuously make out lives like Lere Olayinka and his boss Nyesom Wike are the new reasonable human beings.  My late father told me a story. May his soul continue to rest in peace. He told me the story which I will share with you today. A man in a small village was given a gift. He could see what the ordinary human eyes could not see. He could see demons. So he went around the village warning the people of the demons they could not see. And the village was full of demons that had the intention to harm the people. At first he seen as a champion. A crusader like figure. He would see and warn. The people will run. Thanking him. Then after a while he became a nuisance to the people. Disrupting their celebrations with warnings of the demons that are around them that they could not...

The majority of Nigerians deserve the opportunity to travel by air, not just a privileged minority. Air transportation should not be a luxury reserved for a few, but a service that becomes accessible to many as our nation develops. What a blessing it is and it will continue to be that I will be among the majority of Nigerians who can comfortably travel by air within Nigeria and beyond our borders. May this prayer be answered. May our leaders make decisions that genuinely reduce poverty, create opportunities, improve living standards, and give more Nigerians the chance to experience the benefits of economic progress. May Nigeria continue to move toward a future where prosperity is shared by all. #nigerianspiderman  #KeepNigeriaClean  #airtransport  #nigeria

"On a bitterly cold December evening in 1997, President Bill Clinton was leaving a holiday concert at the Kennedy Center when he noticed a homeless veteran sitting outside the entrance, shivering in a thin jacket and holding a cardboard sign that simply read 'Marine - Desert Storm - Hungry.' What happened next shocked everyone in the presidential motorcade—Clinton immediately stopped, took off his own overcoat, draped it around the stunned man's shoulders, and sat down on the freezing concrete beside him to talk. The veteran, forty-two-year-old Marcus Williams, later recounted to reporters that the President didn't ask him what went wrong or lecture him about getting help—instead, Clinton asked about his service, which battles he'd seen, and whether anyone had properly thanked him for his sacrifice. Secret Service Agent Larry Cockell documented in his memoir that Clinton spent twenty-five minutes sitting on that sidewalk in the bitter cold, and when...

MY GRACE STORY   My name is Jonathan Olakunle Olanlokun. I was born to the family of Late Deacon Joseph Babatunde Olanlokun a Librarian of the University of Jos and Late Mrs Caroline Oladunni Olanlokun, a fashion Designer and Caterer. My mother was adopted by Miss Barbara Epperson, an American Baptist Missionary and Social Worker to Nigeria upon the death of her own biological mother, eight days after her birth at Iree, Osun State in 1953.  Miss Epperson  nurtured Caroline, my mother from birth to maturity, in the company of friends and caregivers. Caroline later became Miss Epperson’s interpreter, translating Yoruba to English for easier communication among the people of the community. Miss Epperson in return taught my mother how to bake cakes and other confectioneries. My mother, from the stories, I heard was a very beautiful and caring mother but I did not enjoy this care for long. My mother died in March 1978 at age 26. I grew up without motherly love...

She caught my attention during my recent tour of Niger Delta as Nigerian Spiderman ..… not because she’s beautiful (even though she truly is), but because of the strength she carries quietly within her. She is a cleaner. Yes… a cleaner. But what moved me was how far she has taken that responsibility. She doesn’t just sweep floors or tidy offices, she goes outside under the sun, bends her back, rolls up her sleeves, and washes the buses 🚌 of her transport company with her own hands. As I watched her work, something in me became emotional. In a world where many people feel “too classy,” “too fine,” or “too educated” to do certain jobs, here is this graceful young woman… choosing humility over pride, choosing dignity over pretence, choosing honest work over easy shortcuts. I walked up to her and praised her, truly praised her. Because her kind is rare. Her kind is disappearing. It is not every day you see a woman who is both beautiful in appearance and beautiful i...

Each time I try writing on this Ruth encounter with one of Dangote's truck, my spirit failed. Thrice I attempted it, but it always end in tears and bad memories. My mother was a victim of Julius Berger trailer in 1991 in Abuja. Her bus was crushed by one of JB trailers, the driver escaped as usual. All in the bus died except her, but she was beyond recognition. She was trapped in the bus, in the process of turning the bus to bring her out her leg was broken. Only God knows what cut her skulll off. She was brought down to UCH. When I first set my eyes on her on her hospital bed, I diedd inside.....and had my wish....... How can this woman on this bed be my elegant, chubby, tall, and beautiful mother? She was in coma, she couldn't even recognized anything. She was there for 9 months Nobody believed she could ever worked or see again. But she did. She lived with the disfiguration till 1997. She lived 6years after a very sad woman.  In all those years no day I see her that I don...