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Showing posts from April, 2015

CALABAR CITY From the Eye of a Passerby AS NARRATED BY EL OSAS IYALEKHUE

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                   Calabar is the Paradise City; a city that bustles with a sheer theatricality that even drama itself would find too ambiguous to represent on her divine stage. The city itself is a marvel, beautiful and seducing in outlook, especially when one considers the fact that aesthetic is a remote practice in the sphere of urban planning in Nigeria. Calabar prides itself on the attractive sites that display itself boastfully at every nook and cranny of its environs. Any visitor is bound to fall prey to the allure that the city comes alive with. No one visits Calabar and not have a romance with the city and then fornicate with the idea of living in Calabar (whether long term or short term). This is the sort of energy that emanates from Nigeria’s Paradise City. The city however, is halved into two intriguing and curiosity inspiring divides. One half of the city represent the now and hope for the future, while the other halve is a living metaphor for incurable hopele

Tips on how to stage a play by El Osas Iyalekhue

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Staging an amazing play is not such an epic hyperactivity like most people consider it. In fact, the art of staging a play can be exciting. With the right drive, enthusiasm and tips available here, anyone can stage a play successfully. All you need to do is have a purpose. Do you want to stage plays because you simply need to put yourself out there as a playwright, director, or actor? Maybe still, you are obsessed about the prestige of being addressed as a drama or event maker. Or you are just essentially driven by the humane thirst to use drama to affect society. Once you have determined your purpose of wanting to stage drama, you are surely set, but there are other things to consider. CHOOSE THE RIGHT SCRIPT Irrevocably imperative is the task of choosing the right play if you are not a writer yourself. And even if you were, you would have to summit your work to scrutiny by trusted friends who know drama. If you don't have one, find one. Whatever the case may be, when st

LOVE OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT : a review by El Osas Iyalekhue

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Most of us fall in love or something like that. Yes, in a crowd of a handful of people, I finally got to see the Ghollywood movie, LOVE OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT produced by Ken Atoh and Shirley Frimpong Manso, also directed by Frimpong. It is an amazing movie. After struggling hard through Kunle Afolanya's October 1, and infatuated with Tunde Kelani's Dazzling Mirage, I did fall in love with LOVE OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. Overlooking the mishap of lighting and bad choice of music imposed on the movie, LOVE OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT take its audience through a well made plot that exonorates the writer from the mess of weaving in unnecessary scenes. Although the story is quite predictable, it brings to fore real human situations and emotions that audiences can relate and Identify with. With  an excellent cast of John Dumelo, Nana Mensah, OC Ukeje and Joselyn Dumas, Frimpong delivers a movie that evades issues raised by other works of art that centres on HIV/ AIDS, especially stigmat

A Sojourn through Self Discovery by El Osas Iyalekhue

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The discovery of self is like a pilgrimage. I find myself perpetually driving in the holy land of my mind. It is like walking blind in a transitional void. No signposts in this abyss. The understanding of my own self appears far reaching and impossible as I try to decipher my own manner of man. No forth coming clues. It’s a dead end, and I’m certainly trapped in the spot. Part of the reason for this mental lock jam is as a result of wanting to know why my flesh is constantly rising up to petty revolutions against my will. Yes my fleshly weakness races at a speed of light. So what I say I’ll do and what I end up doing are like strange bed companions living in a terrorized neighborhood. It’s a sinful irony and yes I hope to make heaven. In another segment of my self discovery problems, I find it particularly metal hard to tell my true identity. Who the hell am I? The answer to this question is like a pin lost in the hay stack of my Edo-ness and my Northern upbringing. The unavoidable