Commlink #39
Weekly Review
This week at the Community DAO, we have embarked on a bold new wave of projects centered around transforming our active content creation team into an NFT production crew. The idea is that everyone is essentially making their own inspired designs that will promote their personal works. Imagine that, a marketing team that was essentially free to market the works of its own team members. Up till now, for several months, we have been running themed contests: https://commdao.org/gallery/
As you can see, we have created quite a stack of designs, several thousand, to be sure. The idea with these contests is to have structured projects for our members to actively work on, all the time. This keeps them fresh, and constantly practicing, and able to change gears and maintain versatility. We began to fine-tune incentives into a consistent system of rewards based on competitive efforts, by now with weekly payouts approximating 2500 RVN.
From aliens and UFOs to Summer fun to animals to the metaverse to Defi, we covered it all, even Bull and Bear Markets!
So, now, we will continue to offer the same reward structure, but we transform the theme from what the curators decide into what the members choose to make from their own personal imaginations.
So, this is a new type of contest focused on the personal artwork of our design members at the Community DAO. The plan is to begin to select winning designs not only eligible for the previously mentioned awards but now to also be minted as multiple NFT series in a “Community DAO” collection or “corral,” available on prominent RVN marketplaces.
In this week’s contest guideline document, we advised members in the following manner when it came to my attention that many were still unclear on what making “NFT” art meant compared to what simply making “art” meant. As we are communicating across oceans and different cultures, I tried to make it more clear with the following statement:
It is best not to worry about making a “NFT” per se, but just the best design you can dream up and execute. Pretend you are in a cosmic arts & crafts class and everyone is working on their own project to make the most attractive graphic designs possible. You may have an idea for a series of animal artworks or ones that take up dancing, or any of the endless options out there available for creative development. They could even be original photographs of unique features in your native home landscapes, cities, towns, and villages. These types of personal touches and entries will be highly valued and work well as potential NFTs in our C0MM/DAO collection.
General parameters are that there should be no logos or brands on the actual work though artist signatures are acceptable. In addition, still utilize #CommunityDAO, #CommDAO, and #Ravencoin hashtagging in messaging. Basic idea is that you are free to experiment with your own design line ideas and we want to promote YOU as an artist rather than our organization, and so on. We are looking forward to seeing what everyone comes up with after months of practicing on various themes and utilizing newer methods of AI art Generation. There is no limit to your imagination here. Good luck!
From the looks of our entries so far this week, easily over 100 designs, it looks like we have scored a high number of NFTs potentially to be minted as C0MM sponsored works soon available for sale as NFTs! I am quite excited about this development. If it works out, it means that we will begin to offer dynamic new NFTs so regularly that it will be a form of episode-driven visual entertainment, almost like a television show, just to see what makes it above the bar, so to speak, each week. This is positive all around as it encourages more independence in our team members and assists them in developing more success and autonomy based on their ability to get their works into a variety of “shop windows.” DAOs should always encourage this type of motion in its members, if it truly wants to claim to be a Decentralized Autonomous Organization, something we have never lost sight of here at Community DAO.
Each week going forward, we will begin to index all of the C0MM products available. Last week we posted the following entries:
https://nftrvn.net/buy-nfts/ols/products/ethiopia-lip-plate-woman
https://www.ravenist.com/collections.php?seoid=c0mm-dao-governance-system
And now, to this growing list, we add the CANNONBALL BABES series, featuring C0MM NFTs as “Messaging Channel Assets” (note the “~” character, which denotes a special type of communication device able to reach all shareholders):
4. https://www.ravenist.com/collections.php?seoid=cannonball-babes
These NFTs feature art AND utility, as well as active collaborations irl with successful swimwear designer Laura Patterson, owner of Cannonball Swimwear, out of Louisville, Kentucky: https://cannonballswimwear.com/
Here is the description for this unique NFT series:
CANNONBALLs are Message Channel NFT assets summoning an array of swimwear model "genies," only available on the Ravencoin blockchain, that contain both art and utility. As works of art, they involve seamlessly phasing composited scenes between photographic reality and fantasy. Specifically, they celebrate the aesthetic of swimwear designer Laura Patterson and her entourage of "Cannonball Babes," also a future game featured in the penthouse suite and rooftop pool of the Commtower in Sky City.
CANNONBALL01 can be tested here: https://ravencoinipfs-gateway.com/ipfs/QmRAtqcx2chfnF23i7DeBJnzCrC3s3szpQ8irseN5pqj7X
Part of my personal plan in developing initial products thru the C0MM is to fully explore the various sorts of asset utilities within Ravencoin by showcasing them aligned with a particular visual art series, which encourages play, experimentation, and discussion with new collectors and the RVN community at large. In this case, we are casting photographs taken by Laura’s team through a series of fantasy departures and blending scene motion clips to “summon” these swimwear models as if they were “genies” emerging from a bottled-up still image. In addition to the motion clip, however, these assets are able to communicate FOR REAL. For reference on the “Messaging Channel Asset,” see here from the Ravencoin Whitepaper:
Soon we will have much more of an ability to offer an increasing spread of experiments as we bring the works of our African design team onto the floor!
On the writing front, Dr. Alina Okun has selected 5 essays from our Memory Database that are still unpublished: https://www.notion.so/ListenUp-bbc2a0df8d80449591368e27cae75ffa
This is exciting, especially as Alina now turns to crafting a book based on over 100,000 words we have collected over the past several months on memories from our content creators from Nigeria, surely to be a success!
And this is all right on the tails of Alina’s first book publication best seller success!!:
You can help support our leading academic’s work by going here to Amazon and picking up her new title, Luminary Leadership: https://www.amazon.com/Luminary-Leadership-Entrepreneurs-Lead-Business-ebook/dp/B0BG1WP9RY
Congratulations, Alina! We are so excited to have you on our team here at Community DAO as the leading DAO researcher in the field of web3 academia.
And don’t forget to check out our Marketing Triumvir, Danoskie’s latest leaderboard and comments as Community DAO starts to explode as the largest Ravencoin community on the entire continent of Africa and the 2nd most active distributor of assets on the entire Ravencoin blockchain according to RVN-Dashboard!
All right, folks! Enjoy the rest of the show! And have a Happy Thanksgiving in the States. Remember, we are taking this week off, so we will see you again with Commlink the week after this one.
Best,
Dow
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My Three Memories of Technology
In the early 90s, a young man full of creativity was born into a family endowed with many creative minds. He was called Daniel, a biblical name given to male children.
I grew from strength to strength, according to my mother, and things were very much okay for me health-wise.
I was sent to a daycare school and later moved on to nursery and primary school, where my parents discovered my talents and created an amazing avenue to contain what I got as a kid.
In making it a reality, they bought different gifts for me during and after my third birthday. These gifts were made of many toys and teddies. To be honest with you, they annoyed me so much that I had to get them dirty one after the other, but one of them was very different and just what I was looking for all my life.
It was a toy mobile phone gifted to me by my uncle who loves technology more than my father. I played so much with the toy, even with the few ringtones installed in it. Everywhere I went, I had the phone with me and felt at home whenever the white woman spoke to me using an American English accent. For my father, it was an addiction to something very strange to him, but my mother and uncle cheered him up to buy more good learning materials for me.
I geared up with some of the good electronics provided for me to scale through my nursery and primary school, even though some of them were just doing the same thing every day since they were just for learning and not for pleasure.
Yes, the learner's keyboard was so boring because it had all its programs working offline without a single upgrade or update available, simply because it was for kids and beginners in the computer world, as assumed by my class 4 teacher.
I proceeded to primary class 5, when everyone was permitted to lay hands on the computer.
Waw!
This was a dream come true for me since I have got some knowledge of how the keyboard works. I prepared for the greatest moment to come by simply meeting my class teacher privately for some stories and heads-up.
My class teacher told me some good stories with real-life examples and follow-up questions on the basics of his experiences as a computer operator. He was so good that he navigated different computer programs without the use of a mouse.
The great day came after many days of writing the procedures on Computer Operation in my notebook.
My class teacher looked straight in my direction, pointed his hand above my location, and assigned the desktops to other students. He continued to assign desktops until there was none left for use.
I felt so bad that he did that to me, even after meeting him privately for some preamble classes.
He looked at my dull face and laughed out loud.
After about five minutes, he called me to use his personal computer, a laptop that seemed smaller than every computer in the lab.
Waw!
That was very different from the blinking desktops in the lab, which go off if there's any power interruption, and saved files in diskettes that were less than 200 megabytes. Too poor for a busy guy.
I mounted on his honorable seat with less distraction from other students, played better 2D games, and watched movies while others were struggling with Microsoft Word and Notepad.
He felt very confident in giving me his personal computer, even after the classes were over and I learned so much using such a great tech as at then.
After all terms were over (first to third), he went further to train students who performed well by organizing small group classes outside the school premises, which I greatly benefited from.
Life continued for me in my quest to acquire another big tech, not as borrowed but as among my personal belongings.
My Dad saw the need to buy a mobile phone for me, which served as the best means of communication while I was in the dormitory. The phone was not among the things that we were proud to have because it was more analogous than what I could operate.
Truth must be told, it was Nokia 620 phone which had few games in it and no space to install other games, same as not having internet access. This prevented me from having access to Twitter and Facebook, leading me to borrow Java phones from rich friends whenever they wished to give them out for a few minutes or hours.
As I progressed to senior secondary class, my Dad surprised me with one of the biggest gifts on my birthdays.
He never made mention of any gift for my birthday but presented the best gift on the deal day.
Yes, he came with a Techno Android smartphone which had all it takes to be a smartphone. The ROM and RAM spaces were enough for the jobs at hand.
At first, he grabbed my Nokia phone and removed the sim after instructing me to move all my contacts to my sim. He then gave the Nokia phone to one old woman who came to wish me a happy birthday.
He presented the Techno Android smartphone to me immediately after I finished cutting the cake, and I was like, "This gift is bigger than my all time cakes*.
Hahahaha!
I took the phone to my room after raining many thanks to him for hitting the nail straight on the head. My worries and borrowings were cut short, or rather, no more.
I took hours to study the big gift and used the phone while charging as it had more ways to keep anyone's smartphone love busy with good animated pages and motion backgrounds.
I also began to play my favorite football games with my phone, set up the ringtones to my preferred songs, and took some good selfies of myself eating the cakes.
All this took me off duty for some days, and I never worried about what to eat because the main food was found in my smartphone.
One very big mistake that I made was to use the phone without backing up my data in the cloud.
As it has always been, good things don't last forever.
After 2 years of enjoying my phone, the good Android smartphone fell into a full bowl of water in the kitchen while I was washing plates.
I picked it up from the bottom of the water, only to discover that the screen was no more working.
My father searched almost the whole town to find a way to repair it, but it got ruined beyond repairs.
That became the first dead phone in the history of dead phones that I've used.
What a painful loss.
No Place Like Home
If you ask anyone to list the pros and cons of growing up in a certain culture, most people would focus on the negatives. Growing up in the southern part of Nigeria was not easy for me or my family. It wasn’t until I moved away to school that I realized how grateful I should have been for having grown up there. We all have memories from our hometowns that we cherish, no matter where we grew up. Growing up in southern Nigeria offered me incredible experiences and fantastic memories that have made me who I am today. As an adult, with the clarity that only hindsight can bring, I’m so glad that I got to grow up there.
Believe me, there's no place like home. I am an Ibibio, and a true son of my father, the love I have for my home is second to none. Ibibio is a Jew from the Northern Kingdom of Israel who immigrated to Egypt during the Babylonian Captivity. They further migrated to Ethiopia and Sudan and settled in Usak Edet near the Cameroon Mountains. From this base, they began to spread to their present homeland or territory in southern Nigeria. The Ibibio tribe also exists in countries such as Ghana, Sudan, Equatorial Guinea, and Ethiopia. Here are three incredible memories of my hometown: my experience growing up in the Ibibio culture in the southern part of Nigeria.
Ibibio Foods
Ibibio people are well known for their hospitality and delicious food. They have a variety of food, and they know how to cook. When it comes to food, everyone knows them as the best, and men from different cultures tend to marry the Ibibio women because of this. Here I put down some of those amazing foods that make me always think about home.
Afang Soup: Taste this anywhere in the world and thank me later. This is a delicacy made from shredded afang and water leaves, called mmong mmong ikong which is very rich in vitamins. Other ingredients are smoked fish, meat, crayfish, salt, pepper, palm oil, and stockfish with little water. It could be served with foo-foo, pounded yam, garri (toasted cassava flour), etc.
Ekpang Nkukwo: The food for the senior men; this is a traditional luxury dish of the Ibibio people of Akwa Ibomites. It is made from cocoyam, grated into balls and wrapped in special cocoyam leaves. Other ingredients added are pepper, salt, palm oil, crayfish, maggi, fish, periwinkle and other recipes.
Cassava Porridge (Asa Iwa): This is grated cassava, wrapped in tender Cocoyam leaves and cooked in palm oil stew.
Water Yam Porridge (Oto Ebre): Grated water yam is prepared with fish, crayfish and pepper. For this particular dish palm oil is not needed
Coconut Rice (Edesi isip): This is an appetizer made from cassava tuber, usually served with coconut, salted or fresh fish and pear.
Edikang Ikong: This is a soup of sliced pumpkin and water leaves with a rich variety of seafood and meat. Other important ingredients are smoked fish, crayfish, pepper, palm oil, meat, salt and little water. The food is served with boiled yam, garri or foo-foo (boiled cassava flour).
Anyan Ekpang: This is a form of foo-foo produced from cocoyam or cassava, wrapped in plantain leaves. It is served with Afere Abak, among numerous others.
The Ibibio people are greatly blessed, and I am happy that I was born in this part of the world.
Traditional Marriage
This is another fantastic memory of home. Over the years, I have traveled to many places, cultures, and regions. With respect to them, I can say that none can be compared to the traditional wedding process of the Ibibio people and Akwa Ibom state in general. Whenever I attend a marriage somewhere with a different culture, I'll surely remember home. This adds to making the home so dear to my heart.
Traditional Ibibio wedding performances are usually characterized by playing "games" and creating a very relaxed and joyful atmosphere, so the whole practice is often considered a game (ndọ odo mbre).
The Ibibio traditional weddings are divided into stages. Each phase has its own dynamics, and certain events are required for a traditional wedding to be recognized, completed, and considered successful. The various phases are divided into five sections and are described as follows:
Opening Entertainment - This section begins with the groom's immediate entourage being escorted to her living room in the family home by the maid or wife of the bride's family, excluding invited guests. The living room has a variety of dishes ranging from cooked and sliced cassava chips (edita iwa) to cassava fofo, mashed yams with different soups, roasted palm fruit (aduek eyop) and palm kernel seeds (isip). Food is on display. In modern times, fried rice is topped with salad.
The essence of such a sumptuous and exquisite culinary display is to please the groom and her entourage so that the bride-to-be knows a lot about food, takes care of her husband and treats him well.
Each dish is then presented, explained, and tasted before being served to the groom's entourage by a woman skilled in the preparation of all the recipes.
Negotiation Stage - This is the stage where the two families are represented by a negotiating team, and the groom negotiates the list of items to be paid to the bride's family.
Therefore, the quantity and quality of what the bride's family brings home at the end of the day depends more on the bargaining skills of the negotiators on both sides than on a pre-presented and privately discussed "list" from both families. This stage is usually the most exciting as it ensures that all requirements on the list are met by the groom.
Today, everything you need is expected to be paid in advance of your traditional wedding day.
Quests - In this section, the bride is "hidden," and after ensuring that all required items on the list have been completed, the groom's team will openly request the appearance of the bride, who is the subject of the mission.
They are then asked to organize a search party, where a woman from the bride's family is persuaded to lead the search party.
She makes requests and makes at least two of her trips, appearing with women other than the bride (usually an old woman and later a girl).
And on her third journey, the bride is accompanied by a long dancing procession made up of women of her age group, friends, and family.
The bride wears an elaborate costume and is adorned with jewelry and bracelets from her hair to her ankles. This moment represents a moment of triumph for both sides after a long mental struggle.
Impedance - This section is a bit of a dramatic depiction of a young man who had an interest in a bride but later lost it, but still exists for her as his bride.
The defeated suitors then weep from the scene while the process of exchanging drinks and vows is coordinated between the bride, groom and parents.
Wedding Dance - This is the section where the bride and groom unite as husband and wife and perform their first public function here.
New couples dance to music provided by traditional band groups. They are presented with both cash and other gifts. This is usually called the "first public activity of a new couple" and usually marks the end of a ceremony in which a young man and woman are united in the eternal union of two families. Sometimes, he has two families: a village, two tribes, or two cultures.
I remember how I was once involved with the young men in "blocking" the village entrance if the groom is not a native. We informed the groom's family that we were the ones guarding the village and demanded that they present some items as gifts, such as football, packs of cigarettes, bottles of spirits, bottles of wine, cartons of beer and cash. It is part of the tradition.
Running Around Barefoot and Playing Football with An Unripe Orange
As a child growing up in my hometown in Nigeria, I spent a lot of time outside with my friends. We would run around barefoot, climb trees, and play football and any other game that we could come up with. We didn’t need a lot of equipment: just a ball. We would pluck an unripe orange and then use it as a football. Not minding if the weather was nice or not, we would play outside every day, both in the sun and in the rain. I think that a lot of what children experience growing up has to do with the freedom they have. For my friends and me, there were no adult-imposed rules about what we could and could not do. We were just kids, and we were allowed to be kids. We would go to the creek behind my neighborhood, play in the dirt, go to the stream, and swim as we liked. We never had the opportunity to even see a swimming pool, we spent hours outside just exploring and being kids.
Conclusion
Growing up in my hometown in southern Nigeria was magical for me. I loved my childhood, and I loved growing up there. I experienced incredible things and formed incredible memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I also learned a lot from growing up there. I learned about myself as a person and about my identity as a Nigerian. I am extremely grateful for the experiences that I had growing up in southern Nigeria.
My Memories of the Future
Most of us were able to express what we wanted to be when we grew up in a simple and concise manner as young children. We had countless options. Maybe you had dreams of being a teacher, an astronaut, or perhaps a rock star. You were fairly confident that whatever the dream was, it would come true. Now, thirty years later, you're not quite where you thought you'd be at nine. You appear to have a terrific career, yet you frequently feel as though time is flying by and that something is lacking.
I frequently collaborate with professionals who seem to be achieving the American dream. They are well-known in their field and have successful careers. Many of them have invested years in following the blueprint for success set down by those who came before them. They appear to simply have retirement left to accomplish. They suffer from a lack of hope, nevertheless. They believe that their real abilities and skills aren't being completely used. However, they ignore it and carry on doing "what needs to be done," despite their inner voice's continuous pleas for them to do more. So here are my favorite "memories of the future":
Assassin Ambition
There was a time when my class was asked to write about what they wanted to be when they grew up. I was around 7 or 8, and YES, I intentionally wanted to be an ASSASSIN because of the state of things in my country. Funny enough, I spelled Assassin incorrectly in my homework.
When I turn back now, I can still picture how proud I felt. It was properly formatted, double-spaced, and explained why I wanted to be an "Assasin" (Assassin).
Other students in my class had submitted papers, which I could see on the teacher's desk, with the obvious, typical, childish responses like, "I want to be the president," "I want to be a policeman," "I want to be a firefighter," etc. Not me, though.
Unfortunately, this response resulted in a one-way trip to the principal's office, where my mother was notified, followed by visits to the school counselor and, ultimately, a psychiatrist (which was mandatory for me to return to school).
I sat in the principal's office and watched the many looks on his face as he read my homework while I was still unsure of why I was there. I didn't know for sure, but I believe I caught a glimpse of disappointment on his face.
My mother walked into his office as he was asking me why I would write this. Although she should have been used to it by this point due to my affinity for correcting a teacher, several justified outbursts, fighting (in self-defense), and just because I was being me, she was plainly upset.
She received my assignment from the principal, who asked her to read it. As she did, I waited for my mother to say something as I observed her expressionless face.
After reading everything through, she gently placed the document back on the principal's desk in front of him. She then turned to face me. So, I decided to break the tense atmosphere by apologizing for the word's mistake.
I wasn't stupid; in fact, the school's teachers couldn't have taught me anything I didn't already know because they were no match for my self-acclaimed intelligence.
As a young child, my family also instilled in me a sense of conceit and schadenfreude, and I did enjoy making fun of my teachers in front of everyone for their stupidity and reluctance to engage in discussion or even respond to inquiries. I yearned to learn more than what a dated book from the 1950s could teach me, so I did enjoy mocking them in front of everyone. "You spelled assassin incorrectly," my mother screamed. She never lacked something to criticize.
She went back to the principal and stared at him, breaking the uncomfortable pause.
Let me explain my desire to become an assassin. It originated from a movie I had seen, the name which skipped my mind at the time of this writing. In the movie, the anti-hero would murder people responsible for some terrible atrocity to end their reign of terror in society. Only those who avoided justice and promptly resumed their terrible ways—which included torturing and killing the innocent—were the ones who committed the murders committed by the anti-hero, not women or our children.
I was extremely explicit about this in my assignment, and I even provided a succinct justification for why the world would be better off if an "Assasin" only pursued the real bad guys. Despite my well-written and convincing arguments, I was once again in danger.
My mother surprisingly fiercely defended me (she craved any situation that allowed confrontation and insulted the plebeians, as she called them). She referred to the instructor and anybody else within hearing distance as a bunch of hicks and imbeciles who shouldn't be permitted to teach, much less procreate.
My mother had a reputation for being vindictive; she was a litigious woman, and those who disagreed with her frequently ended up in "accidents" (like being run off the road in the middle of the night, overdoses, etc., although nothing was ever proved, I witnessed ones of her retaliatory actions as a child and no one would believe me or was afraid to).
After my mother threatened to sue and I yelled for hours, it was finally decided that I would have to talk to the school counselor (which was more of a punishment for her because she was more afraid of me than my mother) and that I would have to see a psychiatrist (bring on the fun!).
Do I still qualify as an assassin? No, but I did become what some may term an "Anti-Hero," even if I don't get to drive a fancy car, have a private plane at my disposal, or get paid a tonne of money for it.
Oh yeah, my mother told me she once wanted to be a "Boss" since they were usually portrayed as leading glamorous lives in the movies and media. She was actually pleased with me for completing the assignment on being an "Assassin" and said she used to want to be one. Yea, that's how extreme, and supportive my mother was/is.
Confusion State
After my Assassin ambition, my mother told me (and every other relative) when I was 3-4 years old that I wanted to be a beggar. I guess I thought the concept of simply sitting somewhere and earning money was amazing.
Then there was a Hunter, an F1 driver, and lastly a pilot. (I changed as I grew older.)
But I truly wanted to be a chef. I guess I liked the food and wanted to be the one who could prepare delicious cuisine (I even contemplated getting a degree in Hotel Management).
But then I got caught up in the engineering boom, and several of my cousins and brother got into IT, which eventually prompted me to prepare for IT, and I kind of forgot about the entire chef thing.
I am currently pursuing a Btech in Computer Science, so you might say that I have drifted slightly from my original plan.
I still enjoy cooking, and while my dream of becoming a chef has faded, I intend to take some cooking classes whenever I have the opportunity.
My Musical World
Music is life, especially when listening to a mind-blowing song well mixed and lyrically correlated to the condition the song is all about. As there are many musicians today, both secular and gospel going very well as far as the singer understands the song, the nature, and the message spread there-to.
In Nigeria, secularly, we have the likes of Davido, Wizkid, Burna Boy, Olamide, Phyno, Falz, Sarkodie from Ghana, Black Coffin from South Africa, among others. They all do good music, and I love their crafts. In Gospel, the likes of Mercy Chinwo, Sinach, Nathaniel Bassey, Eben, etc. They also do very well, and they really promote Africa to the world.
There are some memories of music I can never forget, and I'll love to share them as the moments are worthy to be remembered. Besides, as an Organist, one will not think less of knowing that I have a lot of memories in the music world.
I play for an Entertainment group known as Afriq Entertainment as a stylistic Organist (Keyboardist), and I have the following memories to share:
The first memory is when in 2019, I was selected to represent the group in Akwa Ibom Carol Night, a special festive songs rendition night in which lovers of music gather in Godswill Obot Akpabio International Stadium to sing Carol Songs during Christmas. I was to join the band of instrumentalists who played during the occasion. It was quite splendid to rock with other talented players in the music business.
It was such a great opportunity to meet many instrumentalists whose names I hear over the radio. They encouraged me to keep up the good work as I played the keyboard beyond their professional doubt. Some wondered if I learned to play the keyboard in Nigeria as I played while looking at the keys. They were so happy to meet, and I was so happy to be on top of the game. Some did hail me 'Boss' to express how they felt about my musical prowess.
The opportunity I had that night was exclusive because I had many connections. After the event, I was led to Mr. Charles, who owns one of the biggest Music Bands in Africa called 'DeComposers' a pet band that plays African songs, both gospel and secular. I had a lot of work after that, and I will remember that great night as it changed my life.
I was also challenged to put more effort as there was a kid that played the drums in such a way that I told myself that I've seen my match. In life, one really gets more emotional and serious when they face challenges that give them more reason to improve.
That night was a great one as I got connected to Mr. Charles, who today is my great mentor.
The second memory is when in 2020, I was among the instrumentalists in De Composers who played in Eko Hotel, a stadium-like event center in Lagos where top artists do stage shows to tell the world what they are up to.
On reaching there, it was awesome, besides that, it was my first time flying from my state, Akwa Ibom. It was fun as I was well entertained inside the airplane. One of the ladies that served us on the plane was named Ruth, a name I can't forget in my music career as that's the name of my mentor's daughter.
On reaching Eko Hotel, I was happy because I had realized a dream, and it made me remember my late grandfather who told me that 'the gift of a man makes way for him,' and that 'as the old cock crows so crows the young' this adage of the 'cock' was because he was a talented Keyboardist in the 17th century. He told me that I shall go far with my talent and that I should never relent in my effort to be the best I could be.
Eko Hotel is such a beautiful place that everybody would wish to be there given the chance. I admired the event center and wanted to tell about artists who perform there. I also learned that if your show time is extended beyond the scheduled time, you will be fined handsomely.
This made us ever set to make known or showcase our musical prowse or talents to the foreign land to have the African music lifestyle on to their best experience.
During the show, I handled the keyboard in such a way that people may have thought that the show was mine because I played with everything in me—heart and soul. My co-instrumentalists felt the vibes, too, meaning that I wasn't just entertaining the people but also my fellow players. We played in a way that electrified the crowd with African vibes.
Burna Boy, the African Giant, was an artist who comes from my beloved country, Nigeria.
The show was great. It was beyond music as the whole African culture was on display. The world knows that the Black Continent is also blessed in terms of talent, and we were one of them. We worked together to create music that had a rhythm that harmonized well with the beats of Artiste. In the case of beat delivery, De Composers are known for that. During rehearsals, Mr. Charles always told us that anything worth doing is worth doing well, so we delivered our work while the arena went rowdy as they were carried away by the songs that blended with our beats. We could hear a Whiteman saying, “I love Africa ” it could have been an American because his clothes were inscribed with Proudly American.
The show also gave me another connection and opportunity as I was introduced to the Artiste after the Show, and we exchanged contact information for further interactions.
The show ended with cheers, as there was nothing to jeer about.
The show shaped my life and made me know that with my talent, I can go places and that sky had no limits.
The third memory happened this year, 2022, when a great gospel singer by the name of Mercy Chinwo was getting married to a pastor, and I was among the players who blessed the occasion. During rehearsals with the singer, it was super great as the singer's voice was so melodious even without instruments (A capella) she sang some of her songs to the extent that we nearly forgot what to play during the rehearsal.
She also cracked jokes. I could remember the one where she said that when she was a kid during the Easter period, she was eager to travel to Enugu, a state in Nigeria, to go visit her Aunt. According to her, she was very serious about her studies because becoming the first in class was the major criterion for visiting her aunt. She said she worked hard and made it to the top of the list, only to be called by her uncle with a question to which she still does not know the answer.
She said the uncle called her and asked if she truly wanted to leave for a holiday to her aunt’s place, and she said yes. The uncle said he wanted to be convinced that Mercy was the one who wrote her exams and emerged first in the class, so the uncle asked, 'If Jesus fed five thousand men with two fishes and five loads of bread, mention at least ten names of the men he fed back up with a Bible quotation.'
This question, according to Mercy, remains unanswered till today, and her planned visit was 'Mission Impossible.'
The moment we shared this story during the rehearsals, everyone was laughing.
At the wedding, it was Heaven on Earth as we entertained the guests with nice tunes, and she gave us thumbs up.
I was lucky to be part of that band because it was a separate band from DeComposers.
I was contacted by a friend, and I joined without a doubt. At the wedding, the people knew that the keyboardist is super hot, and today I can personally communicate with the singer.
My journey to my memory lane
My high school days were fun, all thanks to St Gregory Memorial High. But, aside from the fun part, I also had unhappy days.
One of which revolved around Cyril. He was a kid from my class whom I saw as a friend. I never knew he had some mischief up his sleeves. Like every other day, I went to school a happy boy. During the lunch break, Cyril told me he wanted to have a word with me, and I obliged. He talked about how he had always wanted to be a hero and be one of the popular kids. I knew whatever he was aiming at would yield no good, so as a good friend, I advised him to stop nursing such feelings. I told him he didn't need popularity to be like the cool kids in school, but rather being famous would be better. I even went as far as suggesting he join the basketball team or go for a math competition or join the science clubs, or any other club that catches his fancy.
But Cyril kept talking like he had something sinister cooked up in his head. I tried to talk him out of it, and he eventually promised to wave the thought of his mind, after which we never had that discussion ever again. Until Halloween, when Cyril did the unthinkable. Halloween was a period of the year when kids had to dress up in different spooky costumes and go from door to door to sell candies, cookey treats, and sweets. I never had a Halloween experience, so this one was my first. Dad always took us to our grandparents' during that period of the year. He said he didn't want his kids getting into trouble. But after much persuasion from mum, he accepted for us to stay back and enjoy this year's Halloween. Mum had taken us shopping for our costumes. I chose a Batman costume since I had always loved Bruce Wayne.
On Halloween night, my school was having a Halloween party at the school party hall. Everybody came in their different weird costumes. Anne, dressed like a princess, she looked so beautiful in her dress but also scary. She was looking like a zombie princess, and her makeup looked so beautiful and apt. The blood stains on her clothes and pale body were so original, like from the movies. To be honest, I was already getting terrified out of my pants.
I searched for Cyril and could not spot him in the crowd, then I concluded that he stayed home from the party since it was all too scary for him to handle. Little did I know that Cyril's plan of being the most popular kid was still on. Cyril was a smart kid from science class. He had smuggled into the science lab to get one or two chemicals, which he mixed into a tank he wore on his back. He was dressed like Jesus from the ancient children's storybooks. Except that he was the reverse of the Jesus we all know. He wore a white robe and a black short wig, with some fake beard and mustache. He jumped around, seeking everybody's attention. As he wasn't getting any, he then went upstairs, held on to a cable, and swung down to the ground, which caused an electrical spark.
He held out the nozzle of the pipe connected to the tank on his back, long pressed it, and fire came out of it. He targeted anyone within close range, and soon, kids were literally on fire. It was not a funny trick to pull off. "This year's Halloween is the scariest," I heard a kid say as the school guards caught Cyril, and an ambulance was brought to take the affected kids to the hospital. He was tagged insane and reprimanded at rehab. His family rejected him, and since he was taken there, nobody ever heard a word from him or saw him again. Last I heard, his family moved to a new city due to how much embarrassment he brought to them by dealing with drugs and alcohol. I was surprised, as I never knew Cyril to be such a guy.
Well, my high school was indeed a crazy place. There was this one time I got bullied a lot by the senior boys in school. At some point, I missed Cyril. He would have burnt them all for my sake. That would have been crazy, but I did not mind. Jordan was the ring leader of their gang. For some reason, he hated me, but I never got to find out why.
Once, after the dismissal bell had gone off, I headed for the school bus at the parking space. Jordan and his gang members formed a circle around me. I knew my end had come. But I wasn't going to go down without a fight. Dad's words kept ringing in my head, "Never give up without a good fight." So I immediately started acting tough and challenged the least of the gang members. I knew he would not want to pick a fight with me, so I openly challenged him to combat.
By then, a crowd had formed around us. I looked around and saw kids eager to watch a fight, but they weren't about to see any since my opponent didn't have the guts to face me in combat. This provoked Jordan. He felt his gang member had embarrassed him in front of the whole school, and he needed to be punished for letting some little boy belittle him that way. In a split second, Jordan threw this kid a punch in the stomach, and a fight ensued between them. I immediately seized the opportunity and ran home for my dear life. Since then, Jordan and his gang never bullied me again. I was like a neutral kid, so whenever they bullied others, they would just ignore me. I guess they probably learned their lesson.
Alright, enough of the bad memories. I know you might be wondering if I ever liked any girls in school. Actually, yes, I did. Her name was Annabelle, Anne for short. I always saw her as the most beautiful girl, and it was true. Anne was the most beautiful girl I had ever set my eyes on. She was in my grade and a smart kid at that. The teachers loved her dearly, and she was always selected to represent our school at different competitions, where she would always come in the first place.
Rumors had it that Anne's father was in the army and is a strict disciplinarian. Due to the heavy security presence at her place, Anne was not permitted to leave the house, and if she had to, she would not be alone. She had to go with her personal bodyguard. I often wondered why I chose to fall in love with a soldier's daughter. Not just some soldier but a five-star general.
One thing I loved about Anne was the fact that she didn't let her position as the daughter of a wealthy military man get into her head. She was as normal as every other kid in school. I had always wanted to talk to Anne, but I dreaded her personal bodyguard. The woman was a soldier and wore a black suit. I always had the feeling there was high-tech weaponry in her clothes, and if Anne's life was in danger, she would use them. So I tried as much as possible to get Anne's attention without letting her guard notice. I always had a feeling that Anne knew I wanted to talk to her so badly.
It was on a Tuesday in the cafeteria hall, Anne personally invited me to sit with her. My face beamed with the brightest smile. It shone brighter than the sun. But I had to be a man and control myself. I acted tough once again, but I accepted the offer after much persuasion from her. I felt like the first man to walk on the moon as I sat down in front of her. I cannot really explain it, but her guard gave me a weird look as if she wanted me to back off or be good. I guess Anne saw the fear in my eyes, and she told me to relax. She could not stop laughing at me. I felt embarrassed, but being with her was enough for me. It felt like being with the President in the White House. I noticed other kids started looking at me like I had stolen sweets from them, as they also wanted to be friends with Anne. We got talking and learned quite a lot from each other.
We got to know we had a lot of things in common, especially strict dads. I was happy that I finally got to talk to her, and what made me happier was the fact that she also wanted to talk to me. She mentioned that she started seeing me as a smart kid after the stunt I pulled at the parking space with Jordan and his gang. She hated him and his bunch of bullies. Anne even told me she planned on telling her bodyguard, Miss M, to round up the group and beat the living daylight out of them. I was still laughing about what she had just disclosed to me when she invited me over to her place for dinner, and I accepted. Her family got to know and like me, and we soon became good friends. When I left St Gregory Memorial High, Anne was the only person I could call a friend.
To this day, I always feel that being in St Gregory Memorial High was nothing short of a privilege. And I enjoyed every bit of it.
Ambassador Report
Our journey to archiving greatness is something worth planning for. We've worked for complete 39 weeks in the history of CommDAO, grew from being a group of ambassadors to the official marketing team, and we hope to achieve more in time to come. Looking back to what we have achieved so far, it seems like we have more to do when it comes to contributing greatly not only to CommDAO, but to our dear Ravencoin Blockchain and the crypto world at large. For the just concluded design contest, we contributed a huge number of 212 unique designs created with the help of our preferred AI image generators. This, to an extent, can be considered great because we have grown to the point of generating our tools and materials and not from those censored by the website owners. Below is the Leaderboard for week 39. Happy Thanksgiving holidays to you.