Police Intensify Search For Lucky Dube's Killers

Nigerian Tribune

Police Intensify Search For Lucky Dube’s Killers

20.10.2007

South African police said on Friday it was intensifying the search for gunmen that killed South African reggae star, Lucky Dube, on Thursday.


Dube, 43, was killed in Johannesburg’s Rossettenville suburb in front of his son and daughter.


Police spokesman, Eugene Opperman, who described the murder as “one of the high-profile murders in the country,” said they tried to take his vehicle.


“They allegedly tried to take his vehicle, but then shots were fired and he was fatally wounded,” Opperman said.


The murder of South Africa’s biggest selling reggae singer cast a pall over the national mood a day before the country’s rugby union team faces England in the World Cup final.


Police earlier said Dube was dropping his son off when the attack took place.


Some callers to radio stations said the South African team should play wearing black armbands as a sign of mourning for Dube.


South Africa has one of the world’s worst murder rates and the number of rapes, carjackings, assaults and violent crime is on the rise while violent crimes rose sharply last year despite the effort of the police.


Dube recorded more than 20 albums in his career and won over 20 awards locally and internationally. He had just completed a month-long tour of the United States.


His first album, released in 1984 with the title, Rastas Never Die, was banned by the country’s apartheid government.


During his career, he performed across the world and shared the stage with music stars such as Sinead O’Connor, Peter Gabriel and Sting among others.


Paul Boateng, Britain’s Ambassador to South Africa, said he was shocked by Dube’s death.


Boateng said, “My wife and I are big fans. It is a great loss to music internationally.”

Report Of Alleged Fraud By Mark Rocks Senate

 SATURDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2007


From Azimazi Momoh Jimoh, Abuja


ABUJA (THE GUARDIAN)--Tempers rose yesterday on the floor of the Senate as members of the Upper House openly expressed dismay over a report alleging that its President, David Mark, was involved in a N3 billion budget fraud.

Shortly after the start of the session, senators frowned over a report credited to an aide of George Akume, to the effect that Mark smuggled the sum of N2.5 billion into the 2007 Supplementary Act for the purpose of furnishing the new Senate building.

The lawmakers were equally unhappy with another report of an allegation that the Senate leadership had paid out N500 million to some television stations that carried out live broadcast of the screening of the last set of ministerial nominees.

The Chairman of the Senate Committee on Appropriation, Iyiola Omisore had cited Order 15 of Senate Standing Rule and argued that his privilege had been violated by the publication.

According to Omisore, it was wrong for a senator to have insinuated that N2.5 billion was smuggled into the supplementary budget when in actual fact, his committee had been thorough in the processing of the budget before being passed by the entire Senate.

He added: "Mr. Senate President, I read in the Daily Trust of Wednesday, October 17, 2007, a story credited to Adoka Adaji who presented himself as a Special Assistant to Senator George Akume, that the Senate President smuggled N2.5 billion into the supplementary budget recently passed by the Senate."

He continued: "By this story, the entire constitutional appropriation process meticulously carried out by the Senate is being discredited, and my privilege as Chairman of the Committee on Appropriation and Senator Iyiola Omisore has been breached. I have been portrayed as incompetent and untrustworthy.

"It may well be that Akume knows something that this Senate does not know. I therefore move that in terms of Order 15, this matter be referred to our Committee on Ethics and Public Petitions", Omisore added.

Seconding the motion, the Deputy Majority Leader, Victor Ndoma-Egba (SAN) declared that his privilege had also been trampled upon by the publication.

He said: "My own privileges have also been breached. I was the one detailed to provide the cost of live broadcast for ministerial screening...But that publication alleged that over N500 million was spent on the broadcast. For any Senator to go out and disclose what was discussed in a closed session is irresponsible. He should have confirmed from the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) and others whether any money has been paid. Nothing has been paid so far."

Speaking on the matter, Abubakar Danso Sodangi said: "This is no longer an attempt to destroy the image of our Senate President. But the integrity of the entire Senate is at stake here. All our privileges have been breached here."

The Deputy Minority leader, Olorunnimbe Mamora, added another dimension to the debate when he argued that all the publications were aimed at smearing the image of the Senate.

He said: "There is also the allegation that Mark has started furnishing the new wing of the Senate Complex when there has been no budgetary provision for it. I believe this is a smear campaign. We can't continue like this."

Smart Adeyemi in his own argument said: "The content and the authority of the source of the story is not in doubt. Every minute counts for the Senate. We must ensure that this will be the last story published to tarnish the image of the Senate. It is unbecoming for Akume and his group to engage in this. This story is unfair, unbiblical, unislamic and unconstitutional."

But when Dahiru Kuta rose to blame journalists for going to press with the story without confirming from the Senate, Adeyemi interrupted him and queried on top of his voice: "Why are you blaming journalists? Talk about your friend."

And Joy Emodi was more aggressive in her reactions to the reports.

"This is a rumour against all of us and I don't think we should allow this to continue because the National Assembly is the symbol of democracy in this country."

Following a motion sponsored by Omisore, the Upper House ordered fresh investigation into the newspaper report.

After many senators had condemned the report, the Upper House adopted the only prayer of the motion directing its Committee on Ethics, Code of Conduct and Public Petitions to investigate the report and submit its findings as well as its recommendations to it on Tuesday next week for further action.

Also, last Tuesday, the same Ethics Committee was asked to investigate and identify the source of another media report in which Mark was alleged to have spent some N400 million to renovate his official residence.

The Omar Hambagda-led Ethics Committee however complained of insufficient time to do the investigation and submit its report on Tuesday, but the Senate directed it to proceed first and ask for more time if it had not concluded its work then.

Lucky Dube Remembered Forever

LUCKY DUBE’S RECORD LABEL, GALLO, MOURNS HIS TRAGIC LOSS
The staff of Gallo Record Company are devastated by the news of the tragic passing of reggae legend Lucky Dube. Lucky was slain in an attempted hijacking in Rosettenville in Johannesburg last night, at approximately 8pm, whilst dropping off his children at a family members house.

Although Lucky attempted to escape the scene, he had been fatally wounded from the hijacker’s attempt to steal his motor vehicle, and he died almost instantly.
Senseless and random, the death of Lucky Dube leaves a great void in the music industry, as 25 years of music suddenly ends in tragedy.

South African born but globally revered, Lucky Dube was one of the country’s most toured and beloved artists ever. His music touched millions around the world, primarily through his 22 recorded albums - in Zulu, English and even Afrikaans - many of which have been record breakers with phenomenal sales from around the globe.

As a frontline artist in the reggae genre, Lucky's creativity and inventiveness kept growing.
Compelling in his musicianship and intriguing in his lyrical content, Lucky's sonic daring to take his genre to new heights never failed to amaze even the most ardent fans, whilst reigning in new devotees to his magic every day.


His energetic band toured with him from continent to continent as South African musical ambassadors, and his live performances have earned him fans and accolades the world over.

Lucky joined Teal Records (later to become Gallo) as a fresh-faced young Mbaqanga singer in 1982. Five albums later he found a genre that spoke to his soul and changed the way he viewed the world. This genre was Reggae.

With his long-time sound engineer and best friend Dave Segal, he created some of the most legendary pieces of reggae music ever recorded, including the tracks Prisoner, Taxman, Slave, Victims, Together As One and Respect – all social anthems that garnered him the adoration of the people of his country - and across the globe.
Lucky was an artist that continued to break international barriers and recently just signed a deal with Warner Music International, securing him album releases across Europe of his latest album Respect.

Ivor J. Haarburger, CEO of Gallo Music Group is deeply saddened by the loss. “Lucky was not just an extraordinary artist, he was a personal friend. We go back over twenty years and had both a business and personal relationship. It’s so sad to lose such a great friend and so tragically, why?”

There are very few words that capture the magnitude of this devastating loss. As a musician, father and colleague, Lucky was one of the most charming, respected, selfless and dedicated people to have lived. He will be sorely missed.

Lucky Dube was survived by his new wife Zanele and his 7 children Bongi, Nonkululeko, Thokozani, Laura, Siyanda, Philani and his brand new three-month old baby Melokuhle.

Tribute to Herbie Hancock @ Kodak Theatre

On Sunday, October 28, 2007, the Kodak Theatre located at the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue will be packed to capacity when an all-star cast will be paying tribute to Herbie Hancock and Thelonious Monk International Jazz Trumpet Competition.

Witout a doubt, the tribute will be one of Hollywood's treasured musical events this year when the 67-year-old keyboardist gets props from one of his early colleagues, Quincy Jones, who will be appearing as a special guest.

I was not even a jazz "freak" when I first dabbled into what would be my favorite of Hancock's recordings. The year was 1981 when a two record set was being played on a turntable, back in the day. The album was V.S.O.P: The Quntet, released in 1977,  recorded from two live performances; one at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles and the other at U.C. Berkeley. It was a landmark performance with Hancock on keyboards, Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Tony Williams on drums and the magnificent Wayne Shorter of Weather Report on tenor and soprano saxophones.

The track listing of this great album, my best of Hancock recordings and I still have the vinyl LP is a masterpiece whatever moment its being played:

1. "One of a Kind"

2. "Jessica"

3. "Lawra"

4. "Dolores"

5. "Third Plane"

6. "Byrdlike"

7. "Darts"

8. "Little Waltz"

The tribute sponsored by Cadillac and GMAC Financial Services will be featuring Joni Mitchell, Chris Botti, Sting, Jamie Foxx, George Benson, Al Jarreau, Nancy Wilson, Wayne Shorter, Terrence Blanchard, George Duke and many, many others. It's going to be a hell of a show and I will be there live.

Also, the event will be benefitting Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz in Los Angeles.

News Desk Friday, October 19, 2007

APGA Raises Alarm Over Plot To Invade Anambra

Awka—All Progressive Grand Alliance (APGA), Anambra State chapter, yesterday, raised the alarm over what it called “plots by undesirable elements in our midst to cause another mayhem” in Anambra State. The aim of the alleged plot, APGA claimed, was to call for a state of emergency in the state and sack Governor Peter Obi from office. MORE>>

On the Sidewalk with Harold Hisam: Colloquialism Is Best When Done With Style

I have received series of e-mails indicating my writing style has changed, and that I am becoming more blunt the way I use my words. I often wonder why it seems to be a big deal when what one says reads a different meaning to people who think they must monitor how one uses his pen to make his point when there are varieties of ways to do that especially of style, related to technology and the internet.

Why are my readers curious about my writing style? For instance, I use to be a political junkie and would do anything to set things right in keeping my political focus appropriate in terms of political correctness. But what folks do not know is that a change in my writing style was necessary to put into perspective what the internet is, which is being the conduit of getting the message across, just like running into Harold Hisam, owner of Hisam's African And Urban Wear in the heart of the "Black Township" who said to me that "these mutchafuckers think I'm running a museum or gallery where they can take a tour without knowing I've got bills to pay."

"You see what I mean? That's saying it like it is, and ain't nothing wrong with that. As a matter of fact, I took this entrepreneur to school and had a lively chat with him in the language both of us were totally connected. We were both on the same score and patently without him thinking I was just square, and not a brother who should not be hanging around the hood. He was blunt and here we go:

You are the owner of this boutique, and tell me something, how's business going?

Man, you know what? Business is ok, but this people around here think my shop is a museum, a Disneyland or something where they can take a look without spending a dime. Ain't that something, man?!

Are you saying shoppers and tourists shouldn't take a look or take a tour of your store since this place has become a tourist attraction?

Hey man, these mutchafuckers need to know this place ain't Disneyland. You see what I'm saying? I mean, they walk in here dig into my stuff and walk away just like that. Now you tell me how can I open up this mutchafucker everyday and nobody wants to buy something? You see what I'm saying? How am I gonna pay the damn bill, man?

Your inventory show you've got over $100,000 in stock. You must be doing
good.

Bullshit! How can I be doing good when these mutchafuckers ain't buying shit? You see what I'm saying? I think ammo go back to the basics, man! Ammo start growing organic stuff in my backyard and leave this shit alone. You see what I'm saying?

Grow like what?

Tomatoes, fruits and things like that, man!

Where you gonna sell em?

Sheeeet! Farmers market, man. Dem folks at the markets are making some big money, man! People got to eat and that's the real deal man! You see what I'm saying?

I wish you luck!

Thanks, man! Ammo try!

Stop The Jargon, I'm Sick And Tired Of It

When the entrapment called Nigeria is being described as oil-rich nation while scandals of widespread bribery and corruption rages on with the nasty treatment of the weakest and most vulnerable in its society continues apace, it really bothers me.

It's all over Nigeria-related media on the acclaimed visit of Indian Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh's visit to Naija on bilateral issues while seventy percent of Nigerians resident in India are said to be jobless. Big deal! Does the visiting prime minister know that most Nigerians in his country are without jobs? And the ebullient bicyclist Ojo Maduekwe had thought he was carrying out a good show on behalf of a retarded and most corrupt regime on Planet Earth making a fool out of himself and not realizing he is still an efulefu, worthless and confused as his other comrades who would go any length to feed from the crumbs of their sultanate masters.

I would not belittle the vulnerable and gullible Nigerian media, never minding the fact that they have taken journalism to a level that is now shameful. None has written critically about the mess created by the so-called Minister of Justice and Attorney General Michael Aondonkaa (I hope I spelled his name right, and I don't really care) whose Justice Department all of a sudden has turned everything upside down and the press is not saying much about it. The Tiv man is telling Nigerians that it's a jungle out there, and that they should get it.

Who cares what the crap Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) is coming up with regarding the bogus April elections we've put behind us to move on. Why now? Jide Ajani, Political Editor of the Vanguard Newspapers writes that OBJ's term extension almost destroyed President Umaru Musa Yar'Adua's chances of the presidency. According to the report by INEC slated for release on Tuesday, October 16, 2007, it is said the report "provides a blow-by-blow account, giving an insight into how the elections were actually conducted."

The question here now is: Would the report indicate that no election was held at all in the politically troubled state of Anambra? Would the report indicate that, the case of Kogi State Guber election was misplaced and that INEC and Obasanjo's Gestapo-like regime had no jurisdiction to interfere with matters related to the rule of law as empowered by the courts? Would the report indicate that what had happened in Igbo-related states during the course of the rigged election was the doings of Naira passing through the hands of a selected sell-outs including Maurice Iwu as mediator? Without a doubt, the report is more likely to be a shadow stuff and will fizzle out within a few days of its release with the much celebrated sponsored press doing nothing about it. If the press continues to keep its tight-lip mode, be rest assured that the country is doomed, if not now, sooner or later.

Enter Speaker of the House of Representatives Mrs. Patricia Etteh whose motive was delibrately to steal money with impunity on the grounds nothing absolutely would happen. Of course, nothing will happen knowing Naija and cover-ups. After all, Orji Kalu is free bragging to deal with the polluted system. James Ibori who sponsored Yar'Adua's ticket to Aso Rock and emptied his state's treasury is untouchable having a field day because Yar'Adua and his entire cabinet knows exactly what's going on. Many others are like that who are scot-free including a sad reality case of former Enugu State Governor, Dr. Chimaraoke Nnamani who had taken the people of Enugu for a long ride.

While we are at it, the local government bureau chiefs are doing their own thing, too. They are stealing without conscience and the roads and other infrastructures are totally gone and the local press wherever they are can't do "jack" about it.

Nothing lasts forever, and apparently, these folks don't know that. Time will tell!

Jam Session at Sunny's Spot

Saturday, October 13 was one of dem kind of days I stroll on Degnan Blvd. in Leimert Park's "Black Township" where the locals do their own thing from shopping on artifacts and clothings related to African cultural heritage to pub-crawling and eating out. The traffic around this neigborhood is getting busier and busier, sometimes with curious tourist poking around and getting a feel of the drum beats that vibrates from the park.

I had poked around and walked into Sunny's Spot and the settings was the beginning of a jam session featuring locals and aspiring artists who play from gig to gig. The line-up on this day included New York born rock/alternative performer, Angela Leo who had breezed in to share the Saturday gig with Jacnicque, Rizi Timane, Ali Baba, Jackie Rae, Raaki Solomon and the Season of Us.

Leimert Park and its envorons is now selling the idea of tourism as a way to attract more visitors to a neigborhood once known as a haven for hoodlums on Crenshaw Boulevard thoroughfare. Safe and cool, business is thriving in this neigborhood, and one can always tell by the mood of the area's merchants.

At Sunny's Spot, it was business as usual when Angela Leo and her colleagues began to entertain the audience. I had always been asked if I played any instrument. I wish I did, but being a music analyst, I think that's enough to go by and enjoy good vibes from locals, as I really did watching Leo do her thing and showcasing her talent "acoustically."

News Desk Sunday, October 14, 2007

Journalist Survives Assassination...

Mr. Kola Eke is the Edo State correspondent of The First weekly magazine. He escaped death by the whiskers, penultimate Saturday, after gunmen suspected to be hired assassins tricked him out of the premises of the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ) secretariat to the Ugbowo area of Benin City under the guise that they wanted to place an advertorial in his magazine and shot him at close range. MORE>>

How Nigeria Was Spared Another Civil War - Prof. Alaba Ogunsanwo

NIGERIA would have been plunged into another civil war had the constitutional amendment to ensure a third term for former President Olusegun Obasanjo not been scuttled by the Senate led by Ken Nnamani, president of the Senate, 2005 - 2007. This was the submission of erudite scholar, diplomat and political scientist, Professor Alaba Ogunsanwo, at the Faculty of Arts, University of Lagos Lecture delivered by Senator Nnamani titled: “Transformative Leadership: Lessons from the Fifth Senate,” recently. MORE>>

Soludo, Obi Team Up Against Andy Uba - Ahead Of 2011

Emerging signals have started indicating that Anambra State will continue to remain a political war zone till 2011 as the former governor, Dr. Andy Uba is now pitched in an intense power struggle with the governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), Professor Charles Soludo for control of the state. MORE>>

British Police Arrive Nigeria This Week Over Ibori

The Metropolitan Police have concluded plans to dispatch a crack team of detectives to carry out further investigations in Nigeria on the former Governor of Delta State, James Ibori, over money laundering. MORE>>

Top Govt Officials Behind Asuni's Travails, Says Family

The family of the detained peace activist, Chief (Dr) Mrs. Judith Asuni, has blamed the woes of their matriarch on those they called powerful top government officials “who are beneficiaries of the crisis in the Niger Delta.” The family did not however mention names of the suspected officials. MORE>>

News Desk Thursday, October 11, 2007

Kogi Guber Election Results Cancelled

LOKOJA — THE Kogi State Election Petition Tribunal sitting in Lokoja, yesterday, voided the April 14 election that returned Alhaji Ibrahim Idris as governor, and ordered fresh polls. MORE>>

AU Approves $100,000 For Slain Soldiers Families

ABUJA — FOLLOWING the killing of seven Nigerian soldiers in Darfur by rebel militia a fortnight ago, the African Union has approved the payment of $100,000 (about N12.5 million) to the family of each of the seven Nigerian soldiers killed recently by rebels in Darfur. MORE>>

Nigeria Still Highly Corrupt - World Bank

THE World Bank has told Nigeria not to claim victory over corruption yet as it is still a highly corrupt nation. The bank also said there was crisis in the country’s power sector due to poor investment in the sector. MORE>>

Court Stops Investigation Of Ibori

Twenty-four hours after President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua announced that he had authorised a visit to Nigeria by the London Metropolitan Police conducting a criminal investigation of Chief James Ibori, the Delta State government has secured a court injunction to halt the process. MORE>>

EHIRIM FILES CLASSIC: Amazano's Vegas

AMAZANO'S VEGAS

by

Ambrose Ehirim

Dandy Apakama (L) and I do justice to the home-made dishes prepared by Amazano women as we recall our boyhood days in Las Vegas. Ehirim Files Images, April 2003


Onye rara oga ndowara n'obu, kwambe! Ochichara rara oga ndowara n'obu, kwambe! Ochichara ghoo oghu, okuko erie ya. Okuko ghoo oghu, egbe eburu ya. Egbe ghoo oghu, egbe gbagbue ya. Egbe ghoo oghu, akpo isi ya oku. Oku ghoo oghu mmiri awunya ya. Mmirii gthoo oghu, ala amita ya. Ala ghoo oghu, ahihia erishie ya. Ahihia ghoo oghu, nd'yom asuchaa ya. Nd'yom ghoo oghu, atuwa hu ime. Ime ghoo oghu, amuta ya n'nwa. N'nwa nwa ghoo oghu, ele ihe aga akpo ya? Nwabele Nwiko, onye eze nwanyi...

 ---AMAZANO FOLKLORE


AMAZING HOW TIME FLIES!

It is said "facts do not fade in memory, but feelings do." I believe my memory has not failed me since I can still recall most, if not all, of every detail in the heydays when I was growing up in Amazano.

The track roads we walked by and played along as we went down the stream to take a wash and fetch water for cooking. The woods and the "wilderness," its track roads with reptiles, amphibians, birds, and several other species of mammals peering out as we walked through.

The moonlight plays; hide and seek, and bedtime stories. The folklores and story telling. The civil war stories told by the elders and kinsmen. The petty gardening we did growing vegetables and fruits in our backyards.

The way we walked back and forth; from school to the marketplace, and from the marketplace to the football fields where we hanged out and "tapped leather" barefooted.

The town-crier who sounded his horn and announced meeting schedules or special engagements at dawn when the villagers had gone to sleep. The carnivals and Owu Festival which brought every indigene home to celebrate and jubilate on a unique custom and tradition amid flamboyant and colorful display. The dancers and the singers. The audience and the players. And, of course, the players of instrument. In the end, oso ike n'ado appears amid fanfare to mark a month-long festival finale.

Going to church was fun, too. The long walk to St. Mary's Catholic Church and one of very few occasions we had on shoes. The ink and paper, new book smell of Lamb Tales from Shakespeare, Eze Goes to School, The Only Son, Pride and Prejudice, Things Fall Apart, Animal Farm and Akin the Drummer Boy, read with kerosene burned lantern until saturated. The political discourse as some of us were attracted to the ideals of socialism, Karl Marx's social contract and egalitarian society,

Akanu Ibiam, Kwame Nkrumah, the enigmatic Patrice Lumumba and Alvan Ikoku which irritated our mothers on the ground we were suppose to be reading our books. The long walk to Orie Amigwe in the company of my brother Philip and cousin Anthony, my longest walk ever, coming back from Accra. The nutritional change when cassava (fermented, grounded, cooked and pounded), oil bean, garri, akpukoro, sliced cassava, aki beke (coconut), ihe aforoafoo (poridged meal) and iwo, dried or smoked fish became the staple food. The macho me beating up everybody and had no one else to beat up in my age group until my seniors taught me a lesson, beating the hell out of me.

The bell for cross-country and meal time in high school.

The school recess when we came back home to the village and had student meetings to stage ballroom dances, football matches and match-making as part of student day celebrations. The group walk at night to the sensational Ugbele Students Day ballroom dance on Christmas eve. The neo-pop culture--hippies, funk, soul, rhythm and blues, and all that music that turned us on. The afro hair cuts, slim-fitting stone wash jeans with wide bottoms, slim-fitting v-neck polo shirts and six inches three layers high heeled shoes. The fight over the girls and the games that followed. The letters we wrote to friends and well-wishers. The love letters and how the girls drove us crazy. The in-house parties just to get the girls belong.

The "we miss you" letter from Accra and how the folks at Ruga Park mentioned my name at all times. The exchanged correspondences with my childhood buddies Teddy and Eugene Onyeji, and how they got me into adoring "The Mark of Zorro," "The Lone Ranger," "Flip Wilson Show" and "Bonanza" episodes on TV.

The homecoming of my cousin Edward from Accra. The agrarian and state of happy society where one common interest prevailed--where kindness and brotherly love were manifested in all of the everyday affairs of life.

The makeshift fireplace in our family's ime ibari , where we gathered to stay warm from the chilling harmattan season. The ifo, stories, roasted corn and ube.

The sharing of meat done by seniority as prescribed by omenala, custom. The spooky and ghost stories told by our elders. The warning that certain things were beyond reasoning, and that agwuisi and amadioha, the gods of our fathers are the alpha and omega.

The family's gateway to Ezi Ukwu where the rite of passage was observed and upheld from boyhood to adolescence. The noted "facts" and myth we were descendants of Njaba, and that Eke Njaba must not be killed under any circumstances, or else, its burial would be done the same way we humans bury our dead.

 The music that turned me on and how I got into Fela Ransome Kuti's afro beat. The record changer and Fela's "Shenshema." The boogie nights.

The casual jobs at palm oil extraction plants and how we spent the money on what we wanted. The tedious, exhaustive farming work, raining season and the mood that came with it. The ploughing, hoeing and sowing.

The "boys will be boys" arguments and fights, and how scores were settled. The hangouts where we played double Dutch, trash talked with high dosage of gossip that was the order of the era.

The football match between Rangers International Football Club of Enugu and Mehala Football Club of Egypt. The talents of Chairman Christian Chukwu, Kenneth Ilodigwe, Stanley Okoronkwo, Ifeanyi Onyedika, Aloysius Atuegbu, John Egbonu, Dominic Ezeani, Emmanuel Okala, Adokie Amesiemeka, et etcetera.

The duel between Rangers International of Enugu and IICC Shooting Stars of Ibadan which nearly erupted to a civil war between the Yoruba nation and the Igbo nation. The talents of Segun Odegbami, Muda Lawal, Felix Owolabi, Kunle Awesu, Best Ogedengbe, etceteras.

The magnificent broadcaster, Ernest Okonkwo. The TV drama "Masquerade," "Village Headmaster," "Adio Family," "Bassey & Company," "Mirror in the Sun" and "Cockcrow at Dawn." The super-hits of Wrinkars Experience, Ofo The Rock Company, Ozo, Funkees, Strangers, Black Children, Wings, Apostles, Heads Funk, Action 13, One World, Doves, Sweet Breeze, Tony Okoroji, BLO, Bongos Ikwue, Ofege "Boys" and Founders 15. The celebrated DJs Alan B, Teddy Oscar Uju, Eric Uzoma, Benson Idonije, Pat Oke, Tony Ibegbuna, Jones Usen, Bode Seriki, Fred Oshodi and Jacob Akinyemi Johnson.

 The long vacations and the trip to Lagos, Apapa Amusement Park, Race Course, Bar Beach, National Theater, National Stadium, and Lagos International Trade Fare. I can call up nearly everything. So as it happened, Amazano was in Las Vegas on Memorial Day weekend, and I had no problem in recognizing all my old-school buddies.

I had planned to be in Las Vegas and had booked my reservation at MGM Grand almost a month ahead of time which indicated how determined and dedicated I was to see many of my extended relatives once again. As it happened, I had been a little bit exhausted from my preparations in Los Angeles to three and half hours of riding with my cousin John on the 110, 10 and 15 Freeways pulling up at the parking lot of MGM Grand Hotel. The driving was fun as I called many of the Vegas bound buddies to find out what they were up to regarding their preparations in a record-setting event--old-school reunion, Dike's wedding and the convention that would follow, thereafter.

When we finally pulled up at MGM Grand parking lot and checked-in at my hotel suite, I called Dike from my cell phone whose Vegas wedding would be taking place the next day.

Dike: "Hellooooooo!"

Me: "Dike, I'm on The Strip at MGM Grand Hotel. Where is the party tonight?"

Dike: "Ambu, the party is not too far from MGM Grand, just stick around and I will call you back in a few when I get the information."

Me: "Ngwanu!"

We took a tour of MGM and later settled on the ground floor where it was all happening. The Strip, Las Vegas Boulevard, has the same resemblance of the good-old-days when Suya Spot was real hot in Suru Lere. The kalukalu days when one thought gambling was a fine sport. Not anymore. But they got me, again. The habit I left long time ago--gambling and pub-crawling at Suya Spot--resurfaced on Friday evening, May 23, 2003.

John and I then strolled down the hallway, window-shopped, watched the tourists and gamblers and their telltales, took the stairs to the card playing and slot machine rooms. The place crowded around the clock with gamblers looking forward to a kill, the world of fantasy that may never arise, and a dream which may never be fulfilled got me into a different mood.

I located a spot, the spot that may change my whole world and pulled out twenty-dollar bills I had gotten from the change counter and began betting against the house. Sooner or later I will be a millionaire. We'll see. Winning is one thing and losing is another thing. In this case, I was winning and losing, never knew when to quit especially when the booze was free as served by the attendants who watched with keen interest your mood and pattern of play.

By the time I was served a third shot of free cognac, I was on the losing side and had began sweating in an air conditioned room, realizing it was about time to leave gambling alone or else the bill collectors will be stalking me and knocking on my door for months in Los Angeles. Vegas is fun, but gambling is not, notably when you are not winning. As it also happened, John, who never gambled his entire life, and whose Vegas trip coincided with his birthday was given a birthday presence in form of cash, in anticipation he would join the million dollar boys club. It turned ugly. He got more than he bargained for.

The trouble of the evening began when the attendants issued us what they called MGM Mirage Players Club member card for staying at MGM Grand Hotel. As explained, playing by inserting the card in the slot machine gives one more points and better chances of becoming a millionaire. That gesture encouraged me to give the series of machines another shot. The ebullient John joined me in the quest for new millionaires around the block. He was so excited with the card thing and stood up, played with more enthusiasm than noted professional gambler Bill Baxter. When it was all over and after losing some hundreds of dollars, a sweating and frustrated me emerged knowing gambling was not real.

We left MGM Grand for a ride on The Strip. The incredible night life, the amazing scenes of people drinking alcohol openly in public with no hassle, and the whores who were solicited without threat from the authorities makes Vegas the number one sin city in the world. As we drove by every block on The Strip, my phone rang like a hotline. Old-school buddies are in town and I need to get back to my hotel room, take a quick shower and get dressed for The Foothills bedroom community party.

We took a bite and headed to The Foothills. We reached the place about half an hour before midnight, and the approach to it was highly exciting and picturesque. The intensive Vegas heat at near hundred and something degrees at night, and the 24/7 city was bursting and jamming with people from all walks of life.

When we arrived at The Foothills, the music was loud, the crowd so excited and becoming of an anticipated reunion. Beautiful people and glamorous women were all over the place and voices of the whole multitude can be heard upon arrival. I had expected I may not be recognized. I was recognized by all. The admiration of the crowd, hugging and handshakes was demonstrated by almost constant cheers and greetings of "Hey man, I haven't seen you for a while!" "How have you been, man!" "You haven't changed, man!" You are still the same guy, man!" "I miss you, man!" "How's life been treating you, man!" "This is 'Explosive, man!" and things like that. This gesture lasted well into the night with old-school vibrating in the background.

I was so well pleased with the appearances of my buddies I have not seen in ages, and the prospect of jubilation and happiness among them, that I want another reunion as soon as possible. We left the gala with the last song "I want you to be mine" and tailed Nnamdi who drove his entourage to Polo Sport, a stone throw from where I was staying at MGM Grand Hotel. Apparently we were all exhausted from long hours of driving and long hours of partying.

The time was 5 o'clock in the morning, very unholy of hours to stay up, not in Vegas though. We went back to MGM, to the ground floor where the world of fantasy was still bursting loose. I surfed the web, read my emails and went to sleep. I slept all morning to be awoken by a phone call from Nnamdi wondering why 'am "missing in action"--the wedding, more faces and reflections on the days we were growing up in Amazano.

Up and ready to roll, John and I dressed up, had something to eat and drove to Henderson Convention Center where Dike's wedding reception was to take place.

At Henderson Convention Center, the parking lot was nearly full with sharp-dressed young "fellas" who hung on the hallway, on the corners of the ballroom and who obviously came with their parents. Some of the kids, I have met in Los Angeles, while some I have not seen until this day. A new generation has sprang up.

I walked down the hallway to the lounge where mama Nnamdi was sitting waiting for her son to be back from some errands. We hugged and spoke at length. I lifted mama up and we walked to the ballroom, found a table where all of us--mama nnamdi, my brother, John, Nnamdi, Uchendu and Dandy--sat. As guests entered the ballroom, music from the DJ's box greeted them. The reception began with introduction of the bride and bridegroom with entourage of the maids and groomsmen. Dike's bio was presented by his brother Benji, while the bride Juliet's, was delivered by cousin Ifeanyi.

On this beautiful Saturday afternoon, professionals from all aspects of life, friends of the bride and bridegroom, distant relatives and cousins gathered for cocktails--assorted drinks--food and conversations in the reception area. The ballroom was full to capacity according to Henderson Fire Department Safety Codes and Regulations.

Enter the party and celebration. There was no punk rock, hard rock, blues or funk. It was all old-school, egwu agba ochie, the kind of music that had made body and soul one while growing up in Amazano. We danced, stomped, sang to the tune of the music reflecting the emotions and feelings that we do live in a small world. That cousins, who once lived a walking distance away would be scattered all around the universe.

Then, the classic, Prince Nico Mbarga's "Sweet Mother" which turned everyone who grew up in that era loose. I could not resist it. Nnamdi and I lifted mama to the crowded dance floor and sprayed money on mama's face kind of stuff. We danced, and danced and danced!

I left Henderson Convention Center back to my hotel room to figure out what's next for the evening. Meanwhile, John, his friend, a twinkle little star he met that night and I, decided to check out the incredible night life at Mandalay Bay. A very huge place with many activities. Not only was this part of Vegas resorts and casinos more exciting, but I felt more relaxed among the patrons who were being their natural selves and not causing any havocs. Another perfect place which took me aback to the days we spent all night partying and pub-crawling at Yaba and Suru Lere.

We found a spot where a local musical ensemble was entertaining guests with Van Halen's smash hit "Jump." John ordered some drinks as we watched the musical ensemble display their talents.

I took a walk amidst gambling machines, series of pubs, curious gold diggers and call girls, then found another perfect place called Boogie Nights, a crowded night club that spinned 70's and 80's hit--"I'm a Pushover," "One Nation Under a Groove," "Le Freak C'est Shit," "All Around the World," "Get Down Get Funky, Get Loose," "It Makes You Feel Like Dancing," "Super Freak," "It's a Private Party," "Boogie Nights" and things like that.

We left Mandalay Bay around the most of unholy hours back to my hotel room looking forward to day three of Amazano's Vegas. Day three of Amazano's Vegas was actually one of my oft-longed for retreat when tired of the noise and contention of the day-to-day hassles and bumper-to-bumper traffic while I could enjoy the present, forget the past and be free from all anxiety. It was not to be so. But the phone kept ringing and more events popped up. After all, I'm in Las Vegas where the city never goes to sleep, remember? My retreat to be in a world of my own never came.

Seriously speaking, forget the retreat. I'm in Las Vegas anyway!

The city of lights and its incredible nightlife, Vegas rocks twenty-four hours around the clock. It was, also, a family reunion, time to mingle with loved ones and folks not seen in many, many years. I left my hotel room and drove on Las Vegas Boulevard heading east toward Main Street to downtown Las Vegas. Here, I saw the worst of the much celebrated city. I saw a very filthy town-crack-heads, homeless people, prostitutes and their likes throwing swear words I'd never heard before, not even "mad-dogging," the gang jargon from L.A.'s South Central Blood and Crip street gangs.

However, Vegas is not just the nightlife, casinos, clubs, whores and destitutes which appears to be the only cliché about the sin city that equals Los Angeles-Hollywood glitz. There are professionals who do their own thing besides the nightlife, gambling and stuff like that. Before my Vegas trip, I had thought, oh, if you live in Las Vegas, you must then be a gambler. Not really so. Of all nd'be anyi, my people that I encountered in the sin city, none had gambled, and none had attempted in taking the chance of becoming a new millionaire around the block. "Illusional," they would say.

Many professionals from all aspects of society who live in Las Vegas have no clue of what the nightlife is all about. They work hard for their money and retire to their respective bedroom communities. They believe gambling is just a world of fantasy, not even worth giving it a shot, of a tiny fraction, from their hard-earned dollars. It's not only "Vegas." Vegas's also a place where you work on your identity. There are medical doctors. real estate brokers, currency and future traders, pharmacists, bouncers, clerical engineers, structural engineers, software writers, sports recruiting agents, lawyers and so on and so forth who have never considered gambling as a profession and would never give it a thought.

So, when I met my beloved Amazano cousins who trooped from around the globe to Vegas not "Vegas," I learned Amazano's Vegas was not about gambling and things like that. It was all about reflections--family reunion, wedding, conventions and building community--that we live in a small world; and no matter what, and according to Diana Ross, "Someday We'll be Together."

This article originally was first published in The Igbo Network in May 2003.