Typography from Ronnie Bruce on Vimeo.
reflections on the world
Browsing ktravula – a travelogue! blog archives for January, 2011.
Last week, I rode a bicycle to school again for the first time in weeks. It was cold, as it is meant to be for this time of the year.
But it was after getting to school that I discovered the real reason why I should have been doing this a lot more than I have in the past weeks and months: there are so many cars on campus and I spend too many agonizing moments trying to find a spot to park in the morning, and a few more in the evening trying to locate my car, and then even much more at home trying to find a spot closest to my apartment. I believe that more than 80% of students/workers in this University have cars, and we all compete trying to find the right places to put them.
We’re expecting about fifteen inches of snow and up to an inch of solid ice on the roads in the next couple of days, along with snowstorms. I have a feeling that the bicycle is not going to be of much use now either.
Tyrants stamp brash feet on winding paths on of wide open lands
and laugh on fart cushions in cabinet meetings of fellow fawning hands.
They mouth verbs at protest noises from the warm comforts of palace bedrooms
on one hand a full plate, and on the other soft triggers of their imported dooms.
Tyrants dance around dials of outside help, counting losses like currency notes,
swapping allies like the last statuettes of their long tortuous days and rotes.
They sing lullabies of aftermaths, of threats and tears, against a glory so long lost
and o, they fear. They dream of dreary wings across the windowpanes of frost.
Tyrants languish on the frail chairs of their vain vacuousness. They stink.
They drawl in the slime of impotence, a dour fire of an eighty year old wrink.
I look through the fog of emptiness, and see dead multiples of power tenths
and all that remains of a gentle tug into bright new days of different strengths.
Tryants live so that they may leave, gracelessly, in a baggage of seasoned trash.
No other way remains but will, bold and strong, and despots’ dicks ash to ash.
(c) Kola Tubosun
PS: Feel free to share with friends and acquaintances who share a distaste and spite for despots.









Yesterday, in a temperature of about ten below zero, Egyptian students and friends gathered at the Free Speech Quadrangle on campus to lend a voice to the protests in Egypt calling on President Mubarak to acquiesce to the demands of his citizens, turn mobile phone connections and internet back on, and stop visiting violence on peaceful protesters, and resign his position as president if he is unable to do so.
A reporter from the campus paper The Alestle came around at some point to interview the protesters. It was during this time in protest that we heard that President Mubarak had dissolved his government – an insufficient concession that doesn’t address any of the demands nor take the blame for thirty years of misrule. Among other hopes of the protesters on campus is that the United States which is Egypt’s biggest ally takes a stand with the people rather than with a dictator that has misruled a country for so long. History has shown that ambivalence in situations like this always benefits the oppressors and not the victims.
More protests are planned for St. Louis at the weekend, and at Egyptian embassies around the world.
What do I have? Where am I? Where am I headed? These are three main questions that I always asked myself when things looked bleak. There was a stretch of two years not too long ago when I asked myself the same question everyday of the week and every hour of the day while running after very many things that provided not just a way to remain active, but an escape from the tedium of asking. Years later, when many of those endeavours paid back beyond expectation, I became grateful for the chance just to ask them, even in the dark of despair when there was nothing else to do. I’ve been grateful for those moments ever since although I would never hope to relive them.
Today, prompted by many running conversations with a few people, students wondering where their life is headed in these sea of expectation and uncertainty, I want to tell a little of my story and hope that it moves them to do something, or just keep moving – whichever works – as long as they do it with all focus and the realization that everything done with a passion and the best of one’s efforts will always be rewarded, sooner or later, in some form or the other. And a realization that every experience has something to teach that would be useful for the next stage of life.
Our generation is a running one, moving, searching for its own true relevance. In the dark days of those years when the world seemed closed down around my head, I thought about so many things that I could do to avoid waking up everyday to face the bright morning sun that seemed ever so promising, yet not forthcoming with anything but a quandary of many superficial exits. Yet somehow, I got through it. How, I can’t say now, except that one day, it all passed away along with its dark clouds of self doubt and despair. I woke up, and it was sunshine again, with the beautiful colours of a new day. Then I took a shower. (Haha, kidding!)
Many students today in the different areas and levels of school work are worried about the prospect of their future. They are not alone. I remember just how depressed I was in the last weeks of my undergraduate days, wondering just what the world had for me. All of a sudden, I was heading out of this cocoon into a bold new world with its own brand of rules and expectations. The only buffer between that exit and the big bad world was a mandatory national service. A year after the national service – actually many months before – I relapsed into the same state and wondered if anything more than gloom would come out at the end. With nothing but hope, resilience, tenacity and the willingness to endure the long nights, I somehow trudged on doing whatever I could, and here I am.
I guess the only thing else to say is that when life boxes you into a corner is usually the best time to get up and fight. Sometimes it seems impossible and totally hopeless. The good news is that it isn’t. I can call myself a living example. (Knocks on wood.)
I did not watch the first part of President Barack Obama’s State of the Union address a few hours ago, but while reading the full transcript, I caught glimpse of these paragraphs in a speech written to direct the country’s attention to the prospects of innovation, change, evolution and industry from educated immigrants:
“One last point about education. Today, there are hundreds of thousands of students excelling in our schools who are not American citizens. Some are the children of undocumented workers, who had nothing to do with the actions of their parents. They grew up as Americans and pledge allegiance to our flag, and yet live every day with the threat of deportation. Others come here from abroad to study in our colleges and universities. But as soon as they obtain advanced degrees, we send them back home to compete against us. It makes no sense.”
He continues:
“Now, I strongly believe that we should take on, once and for all, the issue of illegal immigration. I am prepared to work with Republicans and Democrats to protect our borders, enforce our laws and address the millions of undocumented workers who are now living in the shadows. I know that debate will be difficult and take time. But tonight, let’s agree to make that effort. And let’s stop expelling talented, responsible young people who can staff our research labs, start new businesses, and further enrich this nation.”
My interest here is not the case of children of illegal immigrants even though he has a point there as well. It is in the sense in making it easy for immigrants who come from abroad to study in American colleges to be able to integrate, if they so wish, and contribute to the country in professional capacities. The situation at the moment is far from ideal. In a world where innovation is fueled by ideas and commitment rather than just geographical boundaries, it’s hard not to see the President’s point. One could only hope that his aspirations are shared by more of his conservative countrymen.