Blog 70 - Letter

Dear English 110 Student,

I’m sure you don’t want to go through another English writing class, but it’s required so you have to get used to it. This class is no much fun. Between blogging every day, and writing two papers:  your Analytical and Research paper and your Commonplace article, you are going to quite busy. But as terrible as the class seems, and at times is, it is still quite helpful.

While blogging almost every day was a hassle, now I am more comfortable typing up short papers that come to a little over 250 words. This class helped me become more familiar with commonly made mistakes, from misuse of some words to grammatical errors. It also gave me a taste of what writing a research paper is all about: I learnt how to look for relevant information in scholarly articles and then integrate the seamlessly into mine without affecting the flow of my paper. I learnt how to cite correctly, and avoid plagiarism.

For the second part of the course, when we began to focus in Commonplace, I learnt how to write so as to grab the attention of my reader, and keep them hooked on whatever I had to say. I learnt how to critically assess other articles, first in terms of how timely, compelling and relevant it was, and then in terms of grammatical errors and sentence level issues. I learnt how to make use of other peoples’ critical assessments of my paper to my paper better.

All in all, this is a pretty informative class. And while it can be trying sometimes, in the end, you’ll be a better writer at the end. Good Luck!

Blog 69 - Different Culture.

I can’t believe finals week is finally here.  So much to go over, so little time.I should probably be asleep because I have a final tomorrow, but it’s not till evening and I guess I can make up the sleep. I was about to fall asleep in my bed when I realized that I hadn’t blogged for the day. I knew I was forgetting something earlier: I just could not remember what it was.

One culture that interests me is that of the nomadic groups. Take the San Bushmen. They live away from civilization, in the desert, and use old fashioned methods to get resources. For example, they get water by boring little holes in the ground and then using straws they fashioned to suck it out. It amazes me to see how they have developed unorthodox, yet effective methods for surviving in such adverse conditions that they live in.

Another example of nomadic people is the Masai of Kenya. This tribe is isolated as well, and mainly takes part in livestock farming, most especially cows. Sometimes they cannot find enough food to keep them alive. However, they have found a way to get round this problem, though it’s not the best of solutions: they have specially designed straws which they use to suck the blood of their cows. That is very disgusting, you may say. While I agree, they have little or no other options. Without taking the blood of their cows, they would all die. It is a necessary evil to keep them going.

Blog 68 -Something that scares me

It is probably the most irrational thing ever, but I have to admit that I am still somewhat scared of the dark. I don’t mean that I have problems sleeping in the night if the lights are not on or something. That fear I have surely outgrown over time. The dark I speak of is more like a pitch black dark, the kind of dark where you can’t see your hand in front of your face,  and all you can hear are the chirps of crickets outside. That’s the kind of dark that scares me.

Where I’m from, power isn’t always on. It tends to knock off sometimes, and when it does, especially at night. I feel that fear. Whenever the light goes off, I have to go outside to put on the generator. Along the path to where the generator is, there are a lot of flowers and weeds. Now, when I was younger, my mother, like any good mother, warned me seriously about snakes, scorpions, and other deadly creatures that hide in the shrubs. Whenever I go outside to put the generator on, my subconscious begins to fuel my fear of these things. It’s like my senses become heightened: every little sound I hear seems to be a “hiss” or a cricket chirp. Every shrub brushing up against my leg feels like a snake’s tongue, and every little prick from the bushes feels like the prick of a scorpion.

However, I have a found a way to defeat my fears: singing. Whenever I go out there, I start singing, sometimes as loudly as I can. With me singing (or in this case, shouting), I don’t feel any of the things I normally do. I’m sure sometimes my neighbors may think I’m mad, but that’s what works for me: and by God, I’m sticking to it.

Blog 67 - Something that concerns me

The recent political revolutions in North Africa are of great concern to me. The revolution began in Tunisia, where the citizens decided they had had enough of the leaders rule. They mobilized and began to push for a change in governance, and they were successful in toppling the old regime. This sparked a revolution in Egypt, which is possible more popular than the former. This may be because the U.S had more interest in this revolution as opposed to the Tunisian one. Another reason may be that after the revolution in Tunisia, many people wondered whether that would be the only successful one. Egypt’s revolution was a determinant of sorts: if they succeeded, it meant that it was indeed possible for revolution to occur all over the region.

The revolution in Egypt was one that was fought seriously. The masses were fed up with the rule of Hosni Mubarak, the former Egyptian president and let demonstrations all over the country. Things began to get ugly when the police, instructed by Mubarak, shot at and killed some demonstrators. This added even more fuel to the fire: the majority people of Egypt were certain they wanted Mubarak out.

Next followed an attack on communications with the outside world. Social media was disrupted; journalists were rounded up and beaten by the police. The army had to step in to protect the journalists from the police at some point. At the end of the day, after all they went through, the masses were successful. Mubarak’s regime was successfully toppled, and this sparked revolution in Libya, which is still ongoing.

I come from a West African country, which has its share of political problems. Revolutions like those in North Africa give me hope for the future, hope that someday such revolutions may occur in my country as well. If it’s possible in Egypt, who’s to say it can’t happen anywhere else?

The recent political revolutions in North Africa are of great concern to me. The revolution began in Tunisia, where the citizens decided they had had enough of the leaders rule. They mobilized and began to push for a change in governance, and they were successful in toppling the old regime. This sparked a revolution in Egypt, which is possible more popular than the former. This may be because the U.S had more interest in this revolution as opposed to the Tunisian one. Another reason may be that after the revolution in Tunisia, many people wondered whether that would be the only successful one. Egypt’s revolution was a determinant of sorts: if they succeeded, it meant that it was indeed possible for revolution to occur all over the region.

The revolution in Egypt was one that was fought seriously. The masses were fed up with the rule of Hosni Mubarak, the former Egyptian president and let demonstrations all over the country. Things began to get ugly when the police, instructed by Mubarak, shot at and killed some demonstrators. This added even more fuel to the fire: the majority people of Egypt were certain they wanted Mubarak out.

Next followed an attack on communications with the outside world. Social media was disrupted; journalists were rounded up and beaten by the police. The army had to step in to protect the journalists from the police at some point. At the end of the day, after all they went through, the masses were successful. Mubarak’s regime was successfully toppled, and this sparked revolution in Libya, which is still ongoing.

I come from a West African country, which has its share of political problems. Revolutions like those in North Africa give me hope for the future, hope that someday such revolutions may occur in my country as well. If it’s possible in Egypt, who’s to say it can’t happen anywhere else?

Blog 66 - A Bicycle Ride

On my sixth birthday, my dad gave me a bicycle. I loved the gift so much that I started riding it that day. At first, two smaller extra wheels were attached, one on each side. I mastered riding this way in just day.

But it was a different story when they were removed. I sustained every kind of injury falling off that bicycle. I doubt my mum can count the times she brought out her bottle of methylated spirit to tend to the injuries. It took me a at least two weeks to get my bearings, and even then I still fell off from time to time albeit the falls were less frequent. Although it took me a significant amount of time, I can proudly say that I whenever I get on a bicycle, I am confident I can ride it.

Now that I think about it, this experience of mine basically sums up life. The beginning of my life I can compare to getting the bicycle; and just as I started riding it that very day, so did my learning in life begin the day I was born. My childhood was like the period of time I spent riding with the two extra wheels. Just as the wheels gave me more balance, so did my parents help me learn the important thing in life. And then it was gone in a flash.

My adolescence now I can liken to the period riding with just two wheels. Just as I could have reattached those wheels if I needed to, so can I call on my parents if I need them. From every fall and every injury sustained, I learnt that the bicycle was not meant to be ridden this way, or that so I could avoid falling again. This is the same way from every mistake I make, I learn the things I should do and the things I shouldn’t, so I don’t make the same mistake again. And just as long as the period of time it took me to master riding with two wheels will this period be.

Right now, I am still at the adolescent age. But I believe that in the end, after all the falls, I will achieve my goals, just like I mastered how to ride a bicycle in the end. I know it will not be sudden, just as learning how to ride with two wheels wasn’t.  But I know that someday, though it may still be far off, I will be able to stand on my own two feet and make a positive impact in the world, one I will be remembered by, just like I dream about.

Blog 65 - A Different Time

Before I get to the point, I’m going to complain about how horrible the weather has been for the past two days. Things were looking up on Monday: It wasn’t so cold out, and it felt like spring was starting to slowly come to Columbus. Then, all of a sudden, the rain came, and that all changed. This past Wednesday was probably my worst day of this quarter. Wednesday’s are bad enough with three classes and a Lab at 4:30. Plus it was Ash Wednesday, and being a catholic, I had to go to Mass. What this meant was that I was out in the rain over a period of twelve hours. It was terrible.

Today’s topic is one I’ve wondered about from time to time. How would things be for me if I was born twenty years earlier, or even farther back than that? If I could choose the period, I would probably choose the eighties. Why? Because I would like to know how life was when my parents were younger. I’m sure everyone has heard their parents complain about ”children of this age”, and how unruly we all are. I’m pretty sure our parents weren’t angels when they were younger. I would love to know exactly how life was then, and what kind of things they did for fun.

I guess I really want to live in that time so I could understand my parents more. I know that they mean well for me most of the time, but they can come across as the exact opposite. If I experienced what they experienced, maybe I would be in a better position to accept some of the decisions they make or their reactions to situations.