A Ward of Inspiration
I hope you will be inspired by the story below, of Colonel Sanders; even as I undoubtedly was. And I equally hope you will be even more inspired by my own story, that comes after the story of Sanders.
At 5 his father died.
- At 16 he quit studying.
- By age 17 he already lost more than 4 jobs.
- At 18 he got married.
- Between ages 18 and 22, he worked as a driver and failed.
- He joined the army and was rejected.
- He tried to enter judicial school and was rejected as well.
- Became a failure as an insurance salesman.
- At 25 his wife left him and took his only daughter.
- Turned dishes into a small coffee shop.
- Failed to attempt to get his daughter back.
- At 65 he retired.
- On the first day of his retirement the government gave him $ 105 Realizing that he couldn’t keep himself thinking about killing himself because he had a life full of failures. He sat under a tree to write his Testament but realized there was something he hadn’t done yet, and that was, Cooking! With the dollars the government gave him, he bought himself a fryer, made fried chicken using a recipe his grandmother taught him, and sold it door to door in his village.
At the age of 88 Colonel Sanders, founder of KFC was a billionaire.
And you, with a single failure, already want to quit?
Life will test you as many times as necessary, even when you’re ready to receive everything it has for you. So don’t complain and move forward! Keep believing in yourself
The greatest majority of the words and the writings of mine that I have scattered all over the world wide web are oceans of my blood, that testify to the murder that has thus far been made out of all that is my very life. And therefore, the words below (with which I strive to prove how inspiring to me is the story above, of Colonel Sanders) had its first version instantly deleted from LinkedIn; even as so many of the words and the writings of which I speak have been plundered of me, burnt, perverted and twisted into the exact opposite of that which I initially wrote, and deleted of so many web-sites — by those that are working frenetically to wipe out every trace of the blood of mine that they have shed.
I will therefore try now once again, to put down my own impression of the story of Colonel Sanders written above — not in the original words with which I wrote it (which has been deleted by those of whom I spoke above, all of them frantically in pursuit of the greatest cover up in all of history) for I cannot recollect precisely what it was that I initially wrote; but in words that may even reveal the inspiration roused by the life of Sanders more than I initially did.
Here goes, then……..
That my life lived fully in Nigeria will render me a complete and thorough failure is obvious from all that which I have lived of it thus far. In fact, Nigerians today even go as far as to gloat in amazement over the extent to which they all in their country have all ganged up together against me. And they testify to this with their own tongues. Thus, I can see very clearly that only in a foreign land (and in a land with a culture quite different from the fraudulent and dishonest bent of Nigeria) can I make a genuine success out of my life. This, despite the online Master of Business Administration programme that I’m presently running at the University of Suffolk.
Not only with the zeal with which Nigerians and their allies all strive to destroy all that is my life, via means such as ganging up together to lie to a man cut off out of the land of the living — to the effect that any university graduate living in Nigeria earns a mere N7,000; most especially in Lagos, and even as a private high school teacher. That Ikoro Iyineleda may then go and blindly sit down in Lagos on such a stipend.
Not only due to the lies that would the fool and the naïve believe that a man that has worked for the Oyo State Post-Primary Schools Teaching Service Commission as a class-teacher and a university graduate for over fifteen years will be earning a mere N95,000; most especially when — as of the last time I asked; which was on the 28th of April, 2021 — a one-bedroom apartment in Ibadan with no more than a toilet/bathroom and a parlour had its rent go for N300,000; most especially when — as of the last time I asked; on the 28th of April, 2021 — a three-bedroom apartment in Ibadan had its rent go for N700,000; most especially when tuition fees for a child in some secondary schools in Ibadan goes for N300,000; most especially when even a decent pair of shoes can cost a man over twenty-five thousand naira in some cases in Ibadan; most especially when……..do I need to go on and on, to prove the extent of blatantly obvious cunning with which the entirety of Nigeria all conspired to have a man do nothing with his life but “sit down there!” in his father’s house and “just praaaay……….?”
Who is living on N7,000 as a high school teacher today, with all the bills I’ve listed above?! Who is living even on the N95,000 that I’m supposed to be living on as a high school teacher with over fifteen years of experience working for the Oyo State government?! When it’s not as though he’s spending the vast majority of his time sitting beside the road to beg, like my mother has recently advised me to!
However, that Nigerians and their allies may even yet have an excuse that they can give to the gullible fools in more civilised and righteous nations (of the reasons behind my poverty-stricken status, despite my first degree) they lie now to these gullible fools that a first degree is equivalent today to a school certificate — what with the number of people that have earned it. Or, at least, that is the opinion of Dr Dipo Awojide; a Nigerian senior lecturer in Strategy at the Nottingham Business School.
Pray, if that many Nigerians have earned a first degree today that it should be now considered as the “new school certificate” (in the words of Dr Awojide) then is Nigeria indeed such a poor country — what with the cost of university education in the country today? Or are the tuition fees that Ikoro Iyineleda comes across reserved only for him, and therefore none other than just another example of the fraud with which Nigerians all conspire to lie to him over the cost of anything from the prices of shoes to the cost of renting an apartment? For the MBA programme that I was running at the University of Ibadan School of Business, that had its tuition fees alone go for approximately a million naira — and that I had to drop out of due to the fact that I earn no more than N95,000 per month — is another evidence of the exorbitant cost of education in Nigeria today. Yet, so many Nigerians now have earned a first degree that the first degree should therefore begin now to be considered as the new school certificate! Are Nigerians on the average truly that poor?!
I have always said (and I will always say it) that the only reason behind the claims of Nigeria to being a poor nation, and behind all the fictitious figures with which it deceives institutions like unto the World Bank and the IMF into supporting its claims, is that it would it defraud wealthier nations of large sums of money — by giving the impression that it is poverty-stricken, and therefore needy.
Nigerians and their cohorts definitely did all gang up together against Ikoro Iyineleda, to in all its entirety destroy his life. They rejoice over this destruction till date, on both radio and television stations. And thus the firm conclusion that I’ve made — that I have to leave the country; to live the rest of my life as an immigrant, even if also as a refugee. And again most especially due to the fact that one of the few ambitions of mine (other than that my Creator avenge me of my adversaries) that can console me over the issue of the sufferings and the afflictions that have been a burden of mine for long over twenty years — over the destruction that has been made out of my life — is that of becoming a professor. And even that, again most especially, is an impossibility in Nigeria. Not when I’m earning N95,000 per month after over fifteen years of working for the Oyo State government as a university graduate and a class-teacher. Whilst a Master of Business Administration programme at the University of Ibadan School of Business has its tuition fees placed at over a million naira. Not when it took the Obafemi Awolowo University almost five years to certify me with a post-graduate diploma that I earned with the highest grades in my class. Five years for a one-year programme that I graduated from with no extra session. Five years that point to the ten years it may take for any Nigerian university to have me privileged enough to be a Masters degree holder, and the twenty years it may take for me to earn a doctorate in Nigeria — regardless of how well I perform in my class. And I’m presently forty-seven years old, and all I presently have to show for my dreams of becoming a professor is a first degree — almost literally, should one consider not the two post-graduate diplomas I have earned along with it.
Thus, the firm conclusion of mine — after over forty-seven years of being a failure in a land that rejoices over my life as a failure with all the fanfare of radio and television stations — that had me apply to the University of Suffolk for the same MBA programme that I dropped out of at the University of Ibadan School of Business (after having gained admission into the programme with the best grades in the post-graduate entrance examinations of the University of Ibadan), that I could not even begin at the Obafemi Awolowo University (after having gained admission into the programme with the second position in its own MBAAT — the MBA Admissions Test). All due to the limitations of the laughable salary of mine that I call a Sala See.
Thus the firm conclusion that had me seek for a United Kingdom visa, via a post-graduate university admission; that had me apply to universities in the United Kingdom (rather than in Nigeria) for the post-graduate degree that will grant me a visa with which I can permanently say “Bad Bye” to Nigeria. And the initial apprehension when — one by one, one after the other — Sheffield, Bath, Lincoln; all three of these rejected my applications, said I wasn’t good enough. And discouragement began to set in, inspiration began to wane — I knew that my first degree was with a Third Class Honours………but with a sound performance in two post-graduate diploma programmes? one of which was almost literally with a distinction?
I would have given up, had it not been for my Creator. Then The Hand of The Lord proved Itself, and — bravo! — I received a conditional offer from the University of Central Lancashire. The fourth UK university that I would apply to, and it’s no coincidence that my favourite number happens to be the number four — that I strive hard and with all due fear and trembling to work out the fourth Abrahamic salvation, and the only salvation that can see through the evil hypocrisy of The Church to the selfish avarice that is Christianity.
But, with tuition fees at £15,200? Added to which are the two-year living expenses that have to be paid for, before I can obtain a UK visa?
Discouragement set in once again, and I even yet again began to consider an academic career in a Nigeria that has conspired against me to the extent where it can never grant me employment in academia — even if it does eventually allow me to earn a doctorate. However, once more, The LORD proved His Righteousness; and my Creator proved also even yet again that He will neither leave me, nor forsake me — despite all those, including both parents even, that obviously have. And the means with which I may very soon get to pay the deposit fees for UCLan’s MBA is eventually beginning to rear its head.
And therefore, it may be merely a matter of time before I’m able to call Nigeria and all its cohorts the liar that The Devil is. It may be that by the month of September of this year 2021, I will be in Central Lancashire — testifying to The Glory of my Creator, and to The Faithfulness of The LORD; even as the story of Colonel Sanders has undoubtedly inspired so many on LinkedIn — where I got the story from. It may be that UCLan in particular will by the end of this year begin to listen to inspiring tales from my tongue — of the failure that the entirety of Nigeria gathered all manner of allies to destroy me into becoming; of the heights to which the pursuit of this destruction attained, after it was seen that I am undoubtedly a gifted and talented writer, after it was seen that I am presently running an online MBA programme at the University of Suffolk; of how the conditional offer letter from UCLan put to shame all those (including father and mother and the entirety of Ibadan) that sought to have the gullible and the fool believe I had earned nothing better than a high school certificate by the age of forty-seven years. It may be that the lazy cowards that persist in calling me a lazy man will no longer be able to regale the ears of Nigeria with their antics of aitetemo’le.
It may just be.
- Ikoro Iyineleda; for forty-seven years “No One, A Man Of No Importance,” all because he was born in and grew up in Nigeria.