Saturday, May 21, 2016

THE FIRST WHITE ANNIVERSARY


The rampaging wolves, brothers of White that kept invading the centre of the farm and killing animals in retaliation for their property being stolen, were becoming bolder. Whereas in the past they would disappear into thin air and be silent until their next attack, they now made public statements about why they attacked animals. White dismissed the people who claimed that the rampaging wolves were equal to the wild dogs on the eastern edge of the north of the farm. “They are just playing,” he said. “They like to play rough, my wolf brothers. Everything will be ok.” 

And the Whitist priests swore that these wolves were not White’s brothers. They swore that the wild wolves were foreign wolves. And all the Whitists agreed.

Meanwhile, throughout the farm and in many farms around, a great celebration broke out. This celebration happened to coincide with animals questioning why White would raise the cost of water in the farm and what he had been doing in the one year since he became farm manager. The anniversary of his taking over was close and there was a need to show evidence that it was worth it dumping Goodhead and his criminal farm hands. 

There were clear achievements that White could claim. Many of the sheep, lamb, swans and ducks that had been abducted by wild dogs in the north of White’s farm were gradually being discovered or rescued by his farm hands. But this was not the cause of the wild celebrations. 

Groups of animals had in fact been protesting the way these rabid dogs operated. One prominent group, led by a German shepherd, A Sex, was created in response to a particular raid when Goodhead was farm manager which saw a few hundred lambs herded away violently by the rabid dogs. A Sex barked loudly throughout the farm to raise awareness about the plight of these lambs. Goodhead hated this German shepherd and thought that it was all an attempt to undermine him.

A Sex refused to be distracted by anyone. Not even by the herding away of other sheep, the killing of lambs and the stealing of swans and ducks that the rabid dogs continued to do after those particular lambs were taken. Sheep and swans and ducks were affected, yes. Even other lambs. But A Sex insisted: the focus was on the return of lambs. Not any lambs. Those particular lambs. A Sex’s lambs. Bring back my lambs, A Sex cried. “The lambs are a metaphor for all animals taken,” A Sex insisted.

Now, a lamb - one of A Sex’s lambs - had been found by White’s farm hands. Tailors were called in, veterinarians, animal photographers, and horses to carry this lamb from animal quarter to animal quarter. The German shepherd praised the gods of his animal ancestors for bringing this lamb home. And the photographers took photos. And the horses galloped from one place to another with the lamb. And the veterinarians drew the lamb’s blood to check for diseases. This lamb was the reason for all the celebrations.

And all the other sheep and lambs (not belonging to A Sex) and ducks and swans that were recently rescued from the wild dogs (and subsequently ignored) looked on in amazement at the treatment this special lamb was getting. And they wished they were A Sex’s lambs.

Shortly thereafter another lamb was rescued alongside 96 other sheep and swans and ducks. The lamb closely resembled one of A Sex’s lost lambs. And voices rose preparing for celebration. And photographers came out, dusting their cameras. And horses were prepared. But it turned out the lamb was just another lamb rescued from wild dogs. And A Sex and all the photographers and all the horses paused. And they swore that they cared as they walked away.

“We care about you lamb, but you were not the one we were waiting for. You were only a false alarm. Now move out of the way in case A Sex’s lamb shows up. We need good photos.”

***
Down in the crocodile quarters of White’s farm, the leader of the farm Sir Na Gajere and one of the crocodile elders Goshi Mai Rakumi were having a big fight in the swamps. Goshi Mai Rakumi was angry that Sir Na Gajere was plotting to have him kicked out of the committee of crocodile elders. He ranted and raved and swore that there was nothing Sir Na could do. He said that Sir Na was only jealous of him because he was taller than him. The crocodiles, struggling to find food were too tired to take sides in this fight between elders. All they wanted was food. 

And White prepared for his first anniversary as farm manager. 

And the photographers kept telling stories of A Sex’s single lamb that was recently rescued. 

And other rescued animals continued to look on in silence. 

And the volunteers working on the gargantuan statue of White to mark his first year as farm manager worked tirelessly.

And Whitist worshippers all across the farm chanted in unison:

In the name of the White father
And of the farm hands
And of the holy Whitists…

Bless us White for we have sinned
Bless our thoughts
Bless our desires
Bless our intentions

Blessed be thy name
Thy will be done in every quarter among every animal species
Teach us to love your will
Teach us to be teachable
Teach us to trust your will even when your will may not be clear
Teach us to defend your will before it becomes your will
For thine are the decisions, the thoughts and the glory
For as long as you choose to be farm leader

Amen

Sunday, May 15, 2016

THE TRUE COST OF WATER

A few years before Goodhead lost ownership of the farm to White, he proposed an increase in the cost of water sourced from pipes in the southern marshes of the farm. He said that he wanted the animals to pay the true cost of supplying water to their quarters which at the time the farm management was subsidising. The whole farm went livid and the farm ground to a halt. White, at the time just an ordinary wolf wanting to become farm manager, joined other animals to shut down the farm in response. White even said that anyone who claimed to be subsidising water was a liar and a thief. He claimed that it was the animals who were subsidising Goodhead and his criminal friends who were supplying water. Ultimately, Goodhead had to bribe some of the protest leaders with loans from the proceeds of savings from the proceeds of the partial removal of the subsidy on water. 

Now that White was farm manager it became clear how difficult it was getting the resources to keep the water flowing. The water had to be purified outside the farm and they had to pay for this with crops that were grown outside the farm. Sourcing these foreign crops for use in the exchange was becoming more and more expensive and White did not know what to do. 

To solve this problem White’s farm hands came up with an idea to increase the price of water. But White could not face the animals and tell them that he was increasing the cost of water. So he found an excuse: he went on a trip to a large farm 6 hours away and let one of his farm hands handle the bad news. The farm hand, a penguin named Na Ci Ku, explained to animals that the cost of water would rise by over 200%. The animals asked him if this was a removal of the subsidy but since Na Ci Ku was an animal that had sworn a blood oath about lying, it was hard for him to lie. So he just said that he did not want to go into the semantics of whether it was a removal of the subsidy on water or not. He just said that he wanted to convey White’s intention to let animals pay a more realistic cost for water. He said that this would save the farm a lot of resources which it was using to fully subsidise water. 

Meanwhile, White was having the time of his life outside the farm, being courted by different prominent farm managers. Before he left he had begun a game called “Guess What I Am Thinking?” with his farm hands. The animals would be agitated over an issue and he would walk around his quarters, silently winking at everyone, waiting for someone to guess what he was thinking. 

A foreign farm manager, from a farm that was full of sea otters who were historically notorious for raping baby seals and other animals, started casting aspersions on White’s farm. The farm manager Na Ci Alade was overheard telling other farm managers that White’s farm was full of rapist animals. This, coming from a farm manager who was sea otter, infuriated people on many farms. They called him a hypocrite. White’s farm hands issued a statement condemning Na Ci Alade and calling him a hypocrite. White watched his farm hands waiting for them to correctly guess what his opinion on the matter was. When White was outside the farm, foreign animals asked him to confirm what his farm hands had said in reaction to Na Ci Alade. “No,” White said, “I do not think Na Ci Alade is a hypocrite. I do not condemn him. He may come from a farm full of rapist animals, but all I want is for him to return the grains hidden by previous managers on my farm and their friends stashed there.” 

White giggled, since his farm hands had failed to predict what he was thinking. He found it funny that he always said the opposite of what they had told other animals about him. 

One of White’s farm hands Mai Karya, intoxicated by all the fermented grapes he had access to as farm hand, declared one evening that he did not owe animals an explanation of how he used the resources in the farm. Mai Karya was drunkenly singing hymns and praises to White as he told animals to stay out of his business as he used resources belonging to the farm. 

As the price of water increased, animals stopped walking long distances for fear that they would get thirsty on the way and be unable to afford water. Animals started mating infrequently because they didn’t want to get exhausted and dehydrated in the process. Pigs especially, known for having thirty minute orgasms started reconsidering the nature of their sexual liaisons. They held meetings proposing a change to shorter orgasms, like those of chickens. Saves water, they argued.

And Whitist priests continued recruiting worshippers for White. 

And White continued to enjoy his game of “Guess What I Am Thinking?” with his farm hands.

And some animals began to ask what happened to all the promises White made when he became farm manager. 

And wild dogs in the southern marshes of the farm threatened to burst all the water pipes that led from the marshes all across the farm. 

And worshippers of White continued praying for his safe return and singing his praises and chanting the words:

In the name of the White father
And of the farm hands
And of the holy Whitists…

Bless us White for we have sinned
Bless our thoughts
Bless our desires
Bless our intentions

Blessed be thy name
Thy will be done in every quarter among every animal species
Teach us to love your will
Teach us to be teachable
Teach us to trust your will even when your will may not be clear
Teach us to defend your will before it becomes your will
For thine are the decisions, the thoughts and the glory
For as long as you choose to be farm leader


Amen

Saturday, May 14, 2016

WHY ADELE MUST BE BANNED IN NIGERIA


I have been doing a lot of thinking. About Adele. I often stop to reflect on the songs I know so well and whose lyrics I take for granted and sometimes I end up feeling ashamed for singing a song that turns out to be racist, sexist, misogynistic, hateful or judgmental. I love to grow. I change as soon as I find something that needs changing. 

Today, I make a pledge never to listen to Adele’s “Hello” ever again. Not just for me. For the many women in committed relationships with men who have once dated people like Adele. We know that men, Nigerian men especially, are weak. They fall into old patterns and the last thing you want is his crazy ex coming back into his life. You may fight and win your man back, but not after he has paid a few visits to the scene of the old crime. 

Let me not bore you. Join me as I break down the lyrics of the Adele song and lay the foundation for a law possibly banning Adele on our holy airwaves. (Because, we ban sexually explicit songs and Adele is far more dangerous than something like sex)

Hello, it’s me.

Ok. This is perhaps the only innocent line in the song. It gets messy right after. Brace yourselves. 

I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet.

All these years? You just show up, out of the blue, not even asking: are you seeing someone, are you married, did you give your life to Christ, become a priest? She shows up like an agent of the devil, to “meet”. Not even something easy, like, can we chat on WhatsApp, or can we Skype? She wants to meet. If he says no, he is petty. If he says yes, well, that is how a handshake turns into a hug.

To go over everything.

Is it midterm exams? Why do you want to go over something that finished many years ago? Why?

They say that time’s supposed to heal ya (she can’t even speak in complete words, so disrespectful) But I ain’t done much healing.

What if he has healed? So you want to use a knife and peel the scar so that you will both reach the same level of injury? Or what? Can’t you heal on your own? Or speak to a therapist? Or give your life to Christ and forsake all worldly pleasures?

I’m in California dreaming about who we used to be.

A dream happens to only one person because it is private. This is how God designed it. Why allow the devil use you to cause a brother to have adulterous thoughts because your dreams about the past persist. Normal people dream wake up, smile, and get on with their day. Adele wants to call someone she left years ago. And ruin their lives.

There’s such a difference between us, and a million miles

So he should do what now? Leave his girlfriend or wife, lie that he has a business meeting, board a plane and come and meet you? What if he crashes in the process? What will the blogs say? He was a cheater going to see his old lover when he died. They will call it karma, especially in the comments section where everyone says their mind. And he will go straight from the crash site to hell fire. Did Adele think this thing through?

I must have called a thousand times…

Don't you just hate people who keep calling? Can’t they just send an SMS and wait for you to call back? The worst part is that the guy would be with his phone ignoring the call and that is when his girlfriend will start suspecting stuff. Every man knows that it is not the calls you take that you are suspected for, but the calls you don't take. She will want to know who that person is that you cannot speak to them in front of her. And that is how trouble on the home front starts.

It’s so typical of me to talk about myself, I’m sorry. 

At this point I am only happy Adele knows she has a problem. Because a problem identified is a problem half solved. I just wish her recovery. 

I will stop the analysis here. I believe I have made my point. 


Whether Adele finds healing or not however we must do something about this song being on our airwaves. We need to send a strong statement to our young men and women that this is just unacceptable. And this is not about women. There is an Adele in every man and woman. You just need to find it and root it out before it causes you to sin. Even the scriptures say, if your right hand is causing you to sin, cut it off. For those who have an Adele in their lives or the lives of their partners, I pray that the good lord gives you the strength to overcome. 

Sunday, May 8, 2016

BAT GLOBAL INC.


There are farms and there are farms. Some farms are large and some farms are small. Some farms are well developed, some farms are run down and full of war and hunger. Some farms are influential and some farms exist to serve influential, powerful farms or provide them cheap food and labour. Some farms are loved and some are despised by everyone and boycotted. And then there is the biggest of all the farms, the most powerful, the farm that dictates how much food should cost and who should sell food to whom and which farm should be cut off from the league of farms. This all powerful farm is called Drumpyard.

Around the various animal farms, a scandal grew, about the many animal species and farm managers who had secret stores where they stashed food away from their farms. These secret stores were located on a remote farm called the Banana Island. Tax evaders, criminals and thieves all used Banana Island. When this scandal leaked, it cost the job of some farm managers and embarrassed others. On White’s farm however, things were different. 

White’s farm was a post-scandal, post-embarrassment farm. Animals considered themselves more evolved than other animals who responded to silly things like embarrassment or shame. And where there is no shame there can be no harm. So, even though a few supporters of White were named in the Banana scandal, Whitists carried on as if there was no scandal. After all, the daytime genocide of bats on White’s farm did not cause anyone shame, why would a mere scandal involving theft make them flinch?

When Goodhead was running White’s farm, his farm hands while trying to fight the wild dogs in the northeast of the farm, killed a lot of innocent sheep, goats and even chickens. They imprisoned any dog that looked like it was a wild dog and routinely let them starve to death. Some they killed by slaughtering with swords. On learning about this, the all powerful farm called Drumpyard alienated Goodhead and his farm hands and refused to sell weapons to them for use in fighting the wild dogs. They claimed that if they sold weapons to Goodhead and his farm hands, they would commit more animal rights abuses against their own animals. 

Since White took over the farm however, Drumpyard has been nice to him. Drumpyard has even promised to sell him all the weapons he needs to kill off the wild dogs remaining in the north east. However, some animals expected that because Drumpyard was always going on about animal rights, they would be concerned about White and his genocidal farm hand Dick-Tai who was addicted to extrajudicially killing bats. 

One representative of Drumpyard, Kim Sass, in a drunken chat with a friend of hers, explained why Drumpyard was going ahead to sell weapons to White, even though he and his farm hand committed the single largest massacre by any farm hand against a civilian population in decades. 

Kim Sass said through hiccups: “You see, we have global interests far beyond White’s farm. One of our biggest problems in the animal world is the farm Ran Ran, completely run and populated by bats. They are enemies of our friends Larabiya and Sraila. Now I know Sraila and Larabiya don’t get along but they are all our friends. And they all hate Ran Ran. The thing is, those fucking bats support each other everywhere. Bats in Ran Ran give money and support to those fucking bats you call innocent in White’s farm. Forgive my French. A diplomat shouldn't swear. But whatever. We have been warning this farm about it for years. But you know we really can’t support any animal rights abuses. However we can turn away and smile if someone kills an enemy for us. Any friend of Ran Ran is an enemy of ours. It is that simple. So, yes, good riddance to bad rubbish. We are happy to sell weapons to someone like White who is not afraid to kill off bats. We will just ask him to be more careful next time. You know, animal rights abuses and all…”

And Drumpyard began preparations to sell sophisticated weapons to White’s genocidal farm hands.

And worshippers of White continued to ignore the darkness on the farm and the drought.

And wolves, brothers of White, kept killing animals around the farm wherever they felt offended or attacked.

And animals prepared to revolt against wolves, brothers of White, some deciding to deny they access to their quarters, some attacking and killing the wolves that strayed into their quarters. 

And White continued to pretend that the wolves, his brothers, were not in mortal danger of being hated and attacked throughout the farm because of his inaction.

And, as usual, the worshippers of White prayed:

In the name of the White father
And of the farm hands
And of the holy Whitists…

Bless us White for we have sinned
Bless our thoughts
Bless our desires
Bless our intentions

Blessed be thy name
Thy will be done in every quarter among every animal species
Teach us to love your will
Teach us to be teachable
Teach us to trust your will even when your will may not be clear
Teach us to defend your will before it becomes your will
For thine are the decisions, the thoughts and the glory
For as long as you choose to be farm leader

Amen


Sunday, May 1, 2016

STANDING WITH WHITE


On the farm it is often said that turbulence is but a temporary state of affairs, a necessary occurrence for those who fly high. Everyone knows this, especially Whitist priests whose jobs have become more crucial than ever before, now that White, doing great things, was experiencing turbulence. 

As far as White and his farm hands were concerned, the farm was great. Nothing would change that. Not farm-wide darkness. Not droughts and barren land. Not dry pipelines. Not long queues of animals receiving food aid while chanting and  holding placards that read:#WeStandWithWhite and #ItIsNotMassacreIfBatsAreKilled and #WhatsWhiteGotToDoWithIt and #WhiteIsLove. Wearily, the animals that ran the food project which was created to give succour to animals suffering from the crippling infrastructure of the farm distributed grains to Whitists, promising more and telling them that the reason that they were experiencing all of this was because of Goodhead’s 16 years of destruction. 

The Whitist priests initiated a ritual which they mandated every believer of Whitism to undertake on the first hour of the first day of the week. They were to procure a whip of chains and flagellate themselves until they bled, chanting repeatedly: “Goodhead is the cause of my pain.” They were to do it for 16 minutes, one minute for every year that Goodhead and his friends plundered the farm. In this way, the Whitist priests argued, the animals would never forget who to blame whenever they felt pain.

However, many animals still grumbled. Ade Sinner, the puffy pigeon that sometimes spoke for White, heard some of the grumblings about the lack of water and food and cooed angrily, calling them ungrateful saboteurs. “If you want water,” Sinner said, “go and arrest the packs of wild dogs who are bursting the pipes along the way from the marshlands where the water is.” 

And then animals began to really complain. And White and his advisers thought they needed a young progressive animal, an energetic one, to manage their communications, especially as Ade Sinner was given to foolish utterances. They found a turkey called Tolo-Tolo who was widely respected and made him man the central station from where the public address system of the farm was run. 

Long ago, White had a friend who, in his days of poverty, gave him a job that enabled him live a nice life. His friend was an old farm manager, Mai Goggles, who ran and plundered the farm long before the days of Goodhead. In fact it was said that Goodhead, for all his crazy theft could not match the theft of Mai Goggles. It was so bad that almost two decades after Mai Goggles, other farm managers were returning farm supplies and money that he stashed in their farms. However, White would not call his friend a thief. He could not deny that his friend had stolen farm supplies because the evidence was public in the stolen bags of grains that kept being returned, year after year. So he got Tolo-Tolo to carefully craft a message that came as close as he could to admitting that his friend Mai-Goggles, was truly a thief. Tolo-Tolo said: “It has come to the notice of White that when Mai-Goggles was farm manager, he temporarily relocated some bags of grain to other farms. We now in the process of recovering those bags of grains.”

White knew that saying the obvious would mean admitting that he was somewhat complicit in that theft, since he and Mai-Goggles were friends when the looting of the farm took place. This was however a subject that was forbidden by Whitist priests among Whitists.

Months passed since one of White’s farm hands Dick-Tai had massacred hundreds of bats for standing in his way as he went to pee on the edge of the farm; since White had wondered angrily how a bloody bat could hit the chest of a farm hand; since Dick-Tai had wandered through a part of the crocodile swamp looking for bats, capturing them, killing them and burying some of them alive. The leader of the crocodile swamp had asked some old crocodiles to write up a report about what really happened the day that Dick-Tai went crazy and began his bat genocide. Everyone thought that since the leader of the crocodile swamp liked White, at least in public, the report would exonerate White and his farm hands. But the report instead identified the spot where Dick-Tai and his assistants had buried the bats they had massacred. The report said it took only a few hours to dig up the shallow graves where they dumped them. Some wondered if the leader of the crocodiles was trying to discredit White, whose job it was rumoured he was eyeing. 

Meanwhile, wolves related to White were running around the farm killing lambs and sheep and goats as retaliation for animals disrespecting them. They would come in the cover of night, invade animal quarters and kill as many as they could find. And White remained silent until the stench of animal carcasses began to smell everywhere the wolves had killed animals. And they he swore that his silence was not inaction. “Silence is the best answer for a fool,” White said, sitting down, crossing his legs. 

And Whitists in the farm pretended that they had not heard the findings of the report ordered by the leader of the crocodiles saying that Dick-Tai had secretly buried hundreds of bats. 

And the genocidal Dick-Tai carried on being a farm hand as if he had not been exposed as having buried hundreds of bats.

And the animals who hated bats said that while killing bats was wrong, bats should not have flown so close in the face of Dick-Tai.

And there was darkness all across the farm because there was no wood to burn the fires.

And there was thirst all across the land because there was no water coming from the pipes.

And White carried on travelling to other farms while his farm hands guessed what his opinion was about things going on in the farm. 

And wolves kept invading animal quarters, killing any animals they could find. 

And prominent animals kept speculating about the health of White, positioning themselves to take over from White.

And the priests who worshipped White sang their hymns in darkness and thirst, praising White for having brought change. And they prayed:

In the name of the White father
And of the farm hands
And of the holy Whitists…

Bless us White for we have sinned
Bless our thoughts
Bless our desires
Bless our intentions

Blessed be thy name
Thy will be done in every quarter among every animal species
Teach us to love your will
Teach us to be teachable
Teach us to trust your will even when your will may not be clear
Teach us to defend your will before it becomes your will
For thine are the decisions, the thoughts and the glory
For as long as you choose to be farm leader

Amen

Sunday, March 20, 2016

HOW TO TRAVEL (EASILY) THROUGH AFRICA WITH A NIGERIAN PASSPORT


Please, if you also have a red or blue passport, this article is not for you. You can take a stroll now if you like. I am speaking to people like me, without a lifeline, whose only means of identification in this world is that green passport that reads Federal Republic of Nigeria and who have no special “connections”. Ordinary people who want to travel with ease around Africa.

Make no mistake about it, nobody in Africa is waiting for you at their border with open arms to say welcome, dear Nigerian. It is easier to find your way to Europe and Dubai (sometimes even America, yes!) than to travel through Africa. Travelling through Africa is like making heaven. On your way there will be a lot of obstacles, temptations, sins, and frustrations. I am here, not to insult the countries who make life hard for us, but to  help you find a way. God will judge those countries at an appropriate time. In this world you have to find solutions. As a frequent traveller I provide this advice free of charge.

1.    Find the corrupt link
No matter how much they spit at us, they are in fact like us. Often we hate the people we most resemble. As we are full of corruption, so are they. There will be that one hustler in their embassy that connives with the Nigerian interface who does the deals on the outside. Don’t be like me. Pay and pass through the gates of African heaven. I remember sitting in a visa office trying to get a South African visa. One of the Nigerians who worked security there whispered to me, that for a small fee she could make my life easier. “They will suffer you and you may not get it,” she told me. I declined her offer and told her I would rather follow the official route, confident that my application was strong enough not to need any “help”. Long story short, I did not get the South African visa, and I missed the trip. I could hear the spirit of that woman laughing at me for many months after that. Find the corrupt link. They are like us.

2.    Marry wisely
Now, for this one I am sorry if you are already married. I do not advise anyone to end their marriage to a Nigerian. So if you are stuck in a marriage to a Nigerian, just skip this part. Marrying wisely can mean the difference between a life time of disrespect or easy access to the world, especially Africa. It is no secret that people with the nice passports of the world – US, UK, Canada, Germany, France – find it easier to travel through Africa than Africans themselves. This is how we are. We are kind. We love visitors. Marrying well can convert you from an African to a visitor. It can convert you from a leprous carrier of a filthy green passport to a desirable human being with rights. Find yourself a nice foreigner, swallow your pride and say I do. In a few years, like a sexually transmitted disease, that passport will be passed on to you and you will forget what it feels like to be denied entry by another African country. But you have to be smart. Research the country before falling in love. Don't go and marry someone like from Switzerland. Apart from the racism, they don't make it particularly easy for spouses to pass on citizenship to people like us.  Be wise. You don’t want to be stuck with a foreign spouse in a cold, racist place without a passport. That would be a tragedy

3.    Run errands for a foreigner with a strong passport
Another thing: Africans respect the workers and messengers of foreigners. So if you work for say, the British, they will, for fear of offending the British, treat you like they would treat the British. So if you can’t marry well or find the corrupt link, look for a job with the Americans, the British or the Germans. Once they see that connection, you are good to go. You will travel Africa on the back of your foreign oga and you will forget how it feels to be the owner of a green passport. Don’t be stupid and lose that job. Be loyal to your foreign boss and continue receiving the blessings of their strong passport.


So, now, these three remain the rules for easy African travel: the corrupt link, marrying wisely and working for a foreigner. But the greatest of these is marrying wisely. It is the most secure. The most permanent. Even if the spouse with the powerful passport leaves you after you secure the passport, you have still won. With the new powerful sexually transmitted passport, you can hope all things, believe all things. Marrying wisely never fails. But whether there are corrupt links, they will cease; whether there are foreign employers, they too will pass away, but when that foreign passport comes, that which is temporary disappears. An article is enough for the wise.