THE HEAT IS ON, ITS TIME TO CELEBRATE TRUE TALENT, GREAT ROLE MODELS AND THE MUSICAL LEADERS OF TOMORROW
THE VISION OF NIGERIA GOES BEYOND THE IMAGE OF A NATION, IT ALSO ENTAILS THE IMPRESSION WE MAKE ON OTHERS
THE AFRICA4U SONG OF THE YEAR ONLINE AWARDS FOR NEW AND UPCOMING NIGERIAN ARTISTS IS BEING ORGANISED TO ENCOURAGE, EMPOWER AND INSPIRE UPCOMING NIGERIAN ARTISTS IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE WORLD.
NEXT WEEK TUESDAY THE 11TH OF JUNE 2013 AT 6PM, I WILL BE PLAYING THE MUSIC OF THIRTEEN NIGERIAN PARTICIPANTS/NOMINEES FOR THE AFRICA4U SONG OF THE YEAR AWARDS FOR NIGERIAN ARTISTS.
THESE ARTISTS HAVE BEEN SELECTED BASED ON THEIR ORIGINALITY AND PROFOUND CONTENT.
THEY INCLUDE THE LIKES OF Fame Daniel Atuah, Fombo Olumayowa , Phemz Oluwafemi Oduru, TJ Spoon Prince Franklin Agbonzikilo Pintinz, Olubogu Kingzmen Petwyz, Joy Igbelabo, Prince Ifediba Chidalu Nsofor, Korede Bello inspired by Casmir Casper, NG Onyeukwu Master Ngizzy, Enotie Paul Ogbebor, Bradley Iy (YOUNG CHRYME) and Israel Onoriode
CONGRATULATIONS TO THIS YEARS NOMINEES FOR AFRICA4U SONG OF THE YEAR ONLINE AWARDS TAKING PLACE ON TUESDAY THE 11TH OF JUNE
TO LISTEN TO THE SHOW, ON TUESDAY THE 11TH OF JUNE 2013 AT 6PM, LOG ON TO – WWW.READING4U.CO.UK – (VOTES CAN BE MADE BY TEXTING THE NAME OF THE ARTIST TO 447882809005
CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?- BY TONY TOKUNBO FERNANDEZ
The Beautiful thing about Life is that Secrets have no hiding place. What we do in the dark, is soon revealed by light and the bullets of Karma always catch up with those who embezzle bad thoughts and intentions into the empty arms of a false dream.
A Secret is put to shame when its presence is revealed by light and then there becomes no hiding place. A Secret has no home, it is always running, moving and hiding. – nothing is hidden under the sun.
Over thirty years ago, I became friends with a boy called Solomon in a faraway village in Northern Nigeria. Each day we would take long walks together through paths of hot sands for miles. There was nothing that my ears did not hear, the stories were endless. I heard of men in rich clothing who had brought nations to a standstill and stolen the secrets of other nations. I heard the stories of politician, pastors, masquerades and married women and all the time, I did not have to be told that these secrets were for my ears only. I promised him that I would not reveal “The Great Secrets”
I felt the pain, the grief, the fear and the guilt, but each time, I kept on saying “You better come out and reveal yourself, Life is short”, But he never listened,
We bathed together, we ate together, we laughed together and we fought together and there were times I even had to defend Solomon in public.
I knew that Solomon was living on borrowed time and so one day, I decided to tell him a story.
On this day we did not walk through the paths of hot sand but we went in the opposite direction and ended up in the outskirts of the buzzing town of Azare in a little kiosk that sold the best fried yam, plantain and fresh fish. It was towards the end of the school term and I had saved up money for this treat. I was worried for Solomon, he was a boy with potential.
As we sat by the table, I pulled my stool towards him and waited for Mama Benji to finish serving us. She stared at us repeatedly. The food smelt nice and fresh. I was Solomon’s only friend.
I leaned forward preparing to tell my friend what he needed to hear, but before I could open my mouth, the unexpected happened. It happened so quickly and felt like a dream. A Big Black Jeep pulled outside Mama Benjis Kiosk. The tyres screeched on the concrete and I nearly fell of my chair and landed on the ground. Two armed men with white masks came out of the car and dashed towards Solomon. Mama Benji began to scream. They grabbed both of his arms and smashed his head against the wall. They threw him into the boot of the Jeep and drove off. . I never saw Solomon again. That day when I got back to my room, I cried for hours beneath the loneliness of my warm blanket, I felt as if a part of me had been taken away and I dreaded the feeling of facing the music each day would bring. The mood of the evening was strange, it suddenly felt like a new season overwhelmed with a dry spell of sadness.. Each day I prayed that I would meet Solomon again. That night when I slept, I dreamt of him chasing me round the dormitory. It was pitch dark and all the Seniors were fast asleep. I screamed and screamed but no one woke up. His eyes were filled with fury. I will never forget that day
I never saw Solomon again, but I still think about those secrets because these are Secrets that help to govern nations.
BY TONY TOKUNBO FERNANDEZ
THE READING COMMUNITY CONCERT- A FREE DAY OUT FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY- SATURDAY THE 27TH OF APRIL AT 2PM
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THE READING4U COMMUNITY CONCERT & AFTER PARTY SHALL BE TAKING PLACE ON SATURDAY THE 27TH OF APRIL AT 2PM
THIS ANNUAL FREE EVENT IS AIMED AT PROMOTING COMMUNITY DEVELOPMENT, COMMUNITY ENGAGEMENT AND CULTURAL AWARENESS AMONGST VARIOUS COMMUNITIES IN THE READING AREA AND OTHER PARTS OF THE SOUTH EAST OF THE UK.THE EVENT TAKES PLACE AT THE WAREHOUSE, 1A CUMBERLAND ROAD IN READING, BERKSHIRETHIS I ALSO A FUND RAISING EVENT FOR READING4U COMMUNITY RADIO STATION AND ALTHOUGH IT IS A FREE EVENT, DONATIONS ARE ENCOURAGED TO HELP SUPPORT THE OUR COMMUNITY RADIO STATION WHICH REPRESENTS THE VOICE AND THE DIVERSITY OF THE COMMUNITY.THE EVENT IS ALSO AIMED AT CELEBRATING THE GREAT WORK OF ROLE MODELS, COMMUNITY LEADERS, SOCIAL ENTREPRENEURS, MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKERS,BUSINESS PROFESSIONALS, CREATIVE ARTISTS, SINGERS, POETS, PEOPLE MAKING A DIFFERENCE TO LIFECOME AND ENJOY LIVE MUSIC BY VARIOUS ARTISTS, MOTIVATIONAL TALKS, POETRY, AFRICAN DRUMMING AND SO MUCH MOREMC/COMPERE AND MAIN ORGANISER-TONY TOKUNBO FERNANDEZ
FUND RAISING DONATIONS- JAMES CROWTHER
SOUND TECHNICAN- CHRIS GAYLEPERFORMING ARTISTSTJ SPOON
JOY AND THE 4 SEASONS BAND- GOSPEL MUSIC
PINTINZ- WINNER AFRICA4U AWARDS & AFRICA4U AMBASSADOR
ETHEL ELAKA GONDIWE- UK BASED ZAMBIAN ARTIST
RAPHAEL OBRIKE AND HIS BAND- READING BASED MUSICIAN
ISRAEL ONORIODE AND HIS BAND – READING BASED MUSICIAN
FRANCIA – READING BASED FEMALE ARTIST
CNERGY – READING BASED ROCK ARTIST
KAFY SHIYNE- AFROBEAT FEMALE ARTIST
GEORGE EHONDER- AFROBEAT ARTIST
MALCOLM EFFIONG- URBAN MUSICMANY MANY MORE
SPEAKERS
MR WINSTON ELLIS- BRITISH BORN FILM STAR
DR NKEM JOHNSON – SPEAKER, AUTHOR AND CONSULTANT
DR ALEROH
CECILY MWANIKI- UTULIVU WOMENS GROUP
NGOZI FAKEYE- AFRICANS UNITE
MS CHERMiIAH – CEO OF HART CULTURE
JOSHUA – PRIDE OF READING- YOUNG PERSON OF THE YEAR-
CLAIRE – ANGELS CHARITY OF READING AND WOKINGHAM
DES O CONNOR- UKS NUMBER 1 BLACK RELATIONSHIP COACH
JACQUELINE WABARA- FOUNDER OF MISS NUBIAN FOUNDATION
TONY CHARLES SPEAKER, MENTOR AND POET
EBELE OBUMSELU – FREELANCE RESEARCH CONSULTANTThe Warehouse Community Centre, 1a Cumberland Road, Reading, Berkshire, RG1 3LB
Postcode is RG1 3LB and it is situated on the A329 Eastbound close to Reading Town Centre, and Junction 10 of the M4. It is served by many buses and has a large car park for up to 70 cars.THIS IS A GREAT OPPORTUNITY TO NETWORK, PROMOTE YOUR BUSINESS, HAVE FUN AND BE EMPOWERED BY GREAT ROLE MODELS MAKING A DIFFERENCE TO TH LIVES OF OTHERS
THE EVENT IS ORGANISED BY TONY TOKUNBO FERNANDEZ-
PICTURES OF LIFE- PART ONE
For seven years, I had been travelling to work on the very same route and for most of the time, I found the journey dull, bleak and boring. In the last three years, i felt myself slowly embracing a familiar sense of emptiness and I could not figure out why.
In all those years, I had not noticed the colourful energy of The beautiful trees and their new language each morning and even the bright sun had given up on feeding me with its subtle rays of brightness.
I had not even noticed those smiling faces that greeted me wih the first fresh songs of the day- GOOD MORNING – even though the signs were clearly written in their eyes. I had become a prisoner in the puzzle of routine, I had become a lost passenger.
And then one day, as I got back from work, I saw a big signboard just before I could open my door- the words on the sign board were bright and had been made out of light bulbs in different colours- its read “if he sky is clearly blue, but you are seeing it in red, the chances are- its probably you- Change and Happiness starts from within- What matters is not what you see but how you see it”. I stood in silence and a whole new journey dawned on me- a journey i had not read in detail and yet, I knew i was not born to be a passenger.
The next morning when I woke up, I instinctively tok a different route to work, I took a slower route that had no shortcuts, I wanted to explore detail, I wanted to drink from nature and I wanted to be part of the music that danced in circles in the wind.
For the very first time, I began to take notice of the simplicities of warm signals I began to understand the language of the beautiful trees and the open secrets of the smiling sun.
On my long route to work, I now stopped and spoke with those strangers who had blessed me with smiles all along- and as months passed by- thier story became part of their story, my story became part of their song and I began to understand how everything around us is connected.
I now only take that long route to work- even though I am now always late- but my boss of seven years does not mind- he would rather see me late than sad
written by Tony Tokunbo Fernandez
My Poetry – The Pockets of The Sky
The pockets of the sky are dressed in Secrets
New riddles rise before the dawn
The lips of the clouds are completely sealed
In profound programmed hesitation,
Our People say “When it rains- there is revelation”
Yet the Rain has been selfish for thirty days
Is it Me, Is it my People, Is ti the Rain?
Its time to look within
And until then ………………..
The pockets of the Sky are dressed with secrets
My Poetry Who Raped our Sunshine
WHO RAPED OUR SUNSHINE?
The fear was a tradition of torment
Of broken dreams from a thirsty mind
But somehow
Sunshine had managed to outplay Darkness
Avoiding each strain from the troubled storm
Fear had been raping Sunshine
Behind the hills on an open path
And the rivers kept quiet like they always do
Yet the evil mind began to laugh
Our sunshine has survived from a story
On a windy night in June
Her eyes reached out for glory
With a silver shield and a golden broom
My Poetry- Palm oil and pasta
Palm oil and pasta
The blend was awesome
A unique portrait filled with brilliant conversations
The boat was empty
Waiting for passengers that had accustomed new cultures
The Ocean . . .
My homeland of wisdom
A parent to many boats
Having sailed through many shores
Before the dawn had opened its mouth
Tonight my lips are sealed with palm oil and pasta
The liberal statement from a curious tongue
A tongue filled with oil
Oil that has kissed the skin of the land
Oil filled with blood
The blood of my people
With different strokes but a common cord
My Poetry – Just a Moment
JUST A MOMENT
A little moment to myself
To breathe
And taste the fruits of this fresh air
To sing in the palace of my bathroom
And bathe my thoughts with the soaps of sweet proverbs
A little moment…
To cook a meal for a thousand people
To listen to the voices of a crying baby
And embrace the hearts of the elderly
A little moment to myself
To give and share
To feel and pray
Again and again
A little moment to myself
To breathe
Slowly
And rest upon the beeches that surround the Ocean
One moment
To touch
To grow
To kiss
And love
To say sorry to the people I have hurt
And thank you to those that make my day.
My Poetry – The Proposal
The Proposal
It felt like A Proposal
Or a forum of feelings
Dancing in circles in a passionate park
There was romance by the fountains
And voices that echoed
Within the warmth of the naked winds
And slowly
The air became filled with little flames
Her eyes lit up with warmth
And the conscience of the moon gazed before us
And blessed the night with a signal
This signal gave birth to a homely intuition
Where all that mattered was Love
My Poetry- Pictures and Shadows
PICTURES AND SHADOWS
A day before our meeting
I sat in our room and lit a candle
And when I slept
I dreamt of pictures and shadows
Pictures painted with subtle smiles and mellow voices
Shadows spelt but fading from a distance
I dreamt of the passion in your palms
And the sweetness of a trance
Of messages printed in the wind
But waiting to be shared
And statements, and signals
Prompted by the very eyes of two strangers
A day before our meeting
I sat in our room and lit a candle
Lying beneath the warmth of the naked wind
