Bread, Power, and the Soul: Join Or Be Damned,

Don Kenobi reflects on temptation, corporate conformity, the prosperity gospel, and Christ’s warning about gaining the world while losing one’s soul. A meditation on faith, power, wealth, and the Fellowship of the Holy Spirit.

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Fox News and the Biggest Scandal of Obama's Presidency

How Fox News DESTROYS America's Democracy 

A personal reflection on Fox News, Barack Obama, political polarization, civil rights, media influence, and the decline of American democracy.

The decline started long before Trump....
...When we moved to America in the late 2000s, one of my greatest surprises was, Fox News.

Raised to believe that America represented the pinnacle of modern civilization, I simply could not understand how such a Barbaric television station operated legally.

Let me say that again.

BARBARIC.

It was pure evil, in my opinion.

Night after night, smiling hosts with wholesome demeanours delivered certainty where there should have been caution, outrage where there should have been reflection, and falsehood where people had come looking for truth.

And Mr. Beck was the worst of them.

It was, and remains, deeply saddening to see what that company has done to American democracy.

Whatever direction civil rights happened to be moving, Fox News seemed determined to carve out a role for itself.

If civil rights were advancing, make things worse.

If civil rights were deteriorating, lubricate the machinery of decline.

The pattern was remarkably consistent.

The Puzzle

I can understand why a certain demographic hangs on every word that emerges from that ecosystem, even when those words turn out to be demonstrably false.

What continues to perplex me are people I went to school with.

People I grew up with.

People I know.

How does one become enamoured with that cathedral of darkness?

That factory of grievance?

That broadcasting furnace where conspiracy theories are endlessly smelted into political identity?

I genuinely do not understand it.

Democracy's Mental Pollution

Fox News has polluted American democracy with a feverish intensity that borders on the theological.

What do they know about the future that the rest of us do not?

In addition to damaging democratic culture, I would argue that Fox News damages minds in ways not entirely unlike pornography.

In some respects, it is a form of pornography.

Political pornography.

Designed to stimulate.

Designed to addict.

Designed to keep its audience returning for the next emotional injection.

And perhaps worst of all, it often presents itself as something it is not.

Christocentric.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Ah Yes, Obama's Tan Suit

Where was I?

Ah yes.

Obama's tan suit.

Before proceeding, let me be clear.

Obama disappointed me on several occasions.

One of those moments was when the White House was illuminated in rainbow colours following the Supreme Court's same-sex marriage ruling.

Another was his refusal to defend the Defence of Marriage Act (DOMA).

I vividly remember walking around Hermann Park in Houston discussing Obama's decision not to defend DOMA with a Nigerian-American friend of mine, a deacon at Lakewood Church.

I was deeply troubled.

His response was simple:

"Obama is a secular leader, not a spiritual leader."

I left that conversation feeling considerably better.

"Obama Was Divisive"

One of the most curious things I encounter on social media is the claim that Obama was "very divisive."

Very divisive.

Yet the accusation is rarely accompanied by specifics.

Rarely explained.

Rarely examined.

I sometimes suspect that much of this alleged divisiveness stemmed from his willingness to acknowledge and reach out to groups that had long existed on the margins of American society, including members of the LGBTQ community.

Whether one agrees with those policies or not is a separate discussion.

But I suspect that is what many critics are referring to when they invoke the word "divisive."

What fascinates me is that many of the same voices seem entirely comfortable with the conduct of what may well be the most divisive political figure of the twenty-first century.

The Jumbotron Test

As I write this, I am watching Game 3 of the NBA Finals.

A picture of Donald Trump appears on the jumbotron.

The crowd erupts in boos.

Huge boos.

It made me wonder.

Did Obama ever receive that kind of reception at a sporting event?

Even after leaving office?

I honestly do not know.

But I doubt it.

Which suggests that perhaps the tan suit was not quite the civilizational catastrophe some people made it out to be.

What a Waste

Looking back, what strikes me most is the sheer wastefulness of it all.

The wasted years.

The wasted outrage.

The wasted opportunities.

The wasted civic energy.

A vast attention-harvesting machine consuming millions of hours of human life and converting them into resentment.

Fox News has been one of the great misfortunes of modern American public life.

At least that is how it appears from my seat in the Molue.

I rest my ANVIL.

Don Kenobi

#OldManInTheMolue
#BigAgendaAfrica

Thokozilerankoe: Ode to those friends who drift beyond the horizon, yet somehow never leave

 

Thokozilerankoe

For the friends who drift beyond the horizon, 

yet somehow never leave

You actually wuz anxious for my Mummy,
wondering how she was going to cope with her loss?

What a Sweetie you were!

All that what-me-worry? Was just pose!

Ha ha 

Just popped into this mailbox
and found this old mail.

Take care.

Hope it's all going splendidly well.

And suddenly,
the years folded in on themselves.

The Years of Noise

I'm sorry if I caused problems for you.

It wasn't in my hands
to behave any better at the time.

I've emerged from all that destructiveness.

I was fighting for my life.

I was.

Still am.

But it's a lovely journey.

Looking back,
I can see now
what I could not see then.

The hands that steadied me.

The voices that encouraged me.

The people who quietly stood watch.

The Speed of Light

You helped me.

Not sure how I could have coped,
or even survived,
without a Thokozilerankoe
hovering somewhere in the universe,

someone I could run to
at the speed of light,

to tease,

to annoy,

to complain to,

(never about).

You were the best.

Been wanting to tell you,
but I think I ran out of chips,

and the one-armed bandit
simply would not budge.

Did Dye ever call you a one-armed bandit?

Seems a familiar term somehow.

A Name That Means Joy

Wow,

Thokozilerankoe.

Even your name
sounds like a song.

I later discovered
that Thokozile
means joy.

Rejoicing.

Gladness.

What a fitting name.

Some names
spend a lifetime
trying to become true.

Yours arrived that way.

You Virtually Do Not Exist

You virtually do not exist,

yet you do.

Like a lighthouse
that never asks ships to come closer.

Like a star
that shines from an impossible distance.

Like a voice
stored somewhere in memory,
waiting patiently
for the days one needs it most.

Years pass.

People leave.

Cities change.

The storms rearrange the coastline.

Yet somehow,
certain souls remain.

Not always present.

Not always visible.

Not always reachable.

But there.

Quietly there.

And what a comfort that is.

What a strange grace.

What a rare thing.

One More Thing

And perhaps that is the secret.

We spend our lives
counting achievements,

collecting scars,

measuring distance and time,

only to discover
that some of the greatest gifts
were never things at all.

Just people.

People who appeared
at the right moment.

People who listened.

People who cared.

People who never quite left.

The Mailbox

Funny thing, memory.

You open an old mailbox
looking for nothing in particular,

and out tumbles a reminder

that once upon a time,
someone was quietly rooting for you.

Not asking for credit.

Not seeking applause.

Just there.

And years later,
when the dust has settled
and the battles have become stories,

you find yourself smiling.

Not because life was easy.

Not because everything worked out.

But because,
along the way,

there was a Thokozilerankoe.

What a Gift

Thank you

for being one of the gentle constants
in a life that often felt otherwise.

Thank you

for hovering somewhere
between memory and reality,

between absence and presence,

between "not here"
and "always there."

What a gift.

Xoxoxo

DUnknown KPoet

 

Shepherds, Politics and the Crisis of Christian Knowledge in Nigeria

A reflection on religious influence, political responsibility, unfaithful teaching, biblical literacy, and how influential pastors shape public opinion and national discourse in Nigeria.

I saw a poster that read: "The Church-Daddy is not the GCFR. Get your voter's card."

My first thought was:"Really? You think we confuse the two?"

My second thought was: "Let it pass. You don't have to express an opinion on everything."

But then I began to see comments from prominent Nigerians, all seemingly aimed at silencing the masses once again, as though ordinary citizens are incapable of thinking for themselves, or are somehow not entitled to opinions that may ruffle a few feathers.

That was when I decided I had to speak.

Not because I believe the Church-Daddy is the GCFR.

Not because I think the pulpit and the presidency are the same thing.

But because those who shape the minds of millions cannot pretend to have no influence over the direction in which a society travels.

And because some conversations are simply too important to be silenced.

Shepherds and Sheep

With our own eyes, we have seen shepherds abandon the sheep.

And a legion spring up, once again, to defend the indefensible.

That, in itself, should concern us.

For while pastors do not govern nations, they often shape the moral and intellectual frameworks through which millions of people understand the world.

And that influence matters.

The Making of a Failure

Should I write about how these shepherds made it almost impossible for a Fulani Muslim president to win the hearts and minds of Christians?

How they bought and sold conspiracy theories that caused Christians to second-guess his every move?

How they frustrated every serious attempt to get to the root of Nigeria's security challenges?

How they looked askance as we mocked every positive achievement of that government, however modest?

Why?

Because their prophecies in favour of the Christian candidate failed.

Too proud to admit error, they helped tear the republic apart.

The Blueprint of the Unfaithful Teacher

Another republic is experiencing the wrath of the unfaithful teacher right now, in real time, on live television.

The unfaithful teachers in Nigeria thus have a blueprint to follow.

It is a game: liars comforting other liars, patting one another on the back, mocking a God, a Jesus, they no longer truly believe in.

They look eagerly toward the advent of Armageddon, when God's enemies will be destroyed, never once considering that they themselves may be among the chiefest of those enemies.

The Toothpick

Where was I?

Ah yes, the frustration of a Fulani Muslim president by Nigeria's shepherds.

So complete was it that the poor man simply crossed his legs, picked up a toothpick, and watched the circus unfold.

You've seen the picture.

At this point, someone invariably objects:

"The pastor is not the president."

True enough.

Yet when the pastor spends years promising prosperity, endorsing candidates, preaching conspiracy theories, shaping political opinions, and moulding the hearts and minds of millions, he cannot suddenly claim to be a mere bystander when the fruits of those teachings appear in the public square.

The Church-Daddy is not the GCFR.

The pulpit is not the polling booth.

But it is often where voters learn whom to fear, whom to trust, and what to believe.

A president may govern a nation, but those who shape the conscience of a people wield a power no less significant.

If the shepherd helps create the flock's worldview, he bears some responsibility for the direction in which the flock eventually walks.

The Real Crisis

These people, and the unchristian "truths" they proclaim, nourish a culture of death that suffocates enterprise, corrodes civic life, and steadily erodes the foundations of social and economic progress.

They shape the souls of those who hang on their every word, and in shaping those souls, they help shape the soul of the nation.

No society rises above the ideas that animate it.

For that reason, these unfaithful shepherds are among the principal obstacles to Nigeria's renewal.

It is written:

"My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge."

Hosea 4:6

Those who propagate ignorance while calling it knowledge help destroy people.

And the damage extends far beyond individual lives. It reaches communities, institutions, and eventually entire nations.

Destroyed people destroy societies.

When a teacher ceases to care about truth, the consequences do not end at the church door. They find their way into homes, businesses, schools, government offices, and the wider culture.

A man attends church alone for years. His wife never comes. His children drift away. His family fractures. Yet so long as the offerings are generous and the tithes continue to flow, few questions are asked and little concern is shown for the spiritual welfare of those absent from the pews.

The shepherd counts the sheep that are present. Christ sought the one that was missing.

That difference matters.

The Way Forward

Know your Bible.

Young Muslims pray five times a day. Christians might want to try praying once a day.

Young Muslims listen to recordings of their holy book in their spare time.

Perhaps Christians should do the same.

If I may suggest a resource, try Bible Hub.

We need Bibles in Pidgin English.

We need Bibles in our local languages.

We need the Gospels translated, distributed, read, discussed, and understood.

For too long, many Christians have outsourced their understanding of Scripture to professional interpreters.

That must change.

A people grounded in Scripture are far less likely to be manipulated by the guild of the false teacher.

That is how we loosen what has become a death grip on the minds of many.

That is how we begin to free ourselves.

That is how we reclaim both our faith and our republic.

For Nigeria to claim its place as a giant amongst nations, the age of ignorance must end.

I rest my case

Don Kenobi

#OldManInTheMolue 

#MyFrancisEssays 

#BigAgendaAfrica 

Dominique Wilkins, Michael Jordan, and the Cadillac Called Racism

A personal reflection on discovering the NBA in the 1980s, Dominique Wilkins' greatness, and what a recent restaurant controversy reveals about the changing face of racism.

The VCP Years

Dominique Wilkins.

The year was 1988.

I had just bought a VCP.

That's right, a VCP.

It was about ₦600 cheaper than a VCR, which at the time might as well have been $80, and I simply couldn't spare the difference. So I bought a Toshiba Video Cassette Player instead.

That was how I got introduced to the NBA, through grainy, bootlegged video cassettes supplied by my friend, Gerald Michael Eigbobo (RIP).

We were fascinated by this guy.

His name was Dominique Wilkins.

He was so good. So athletic. And, as far as we could tell, he was making a young upstart named Michael Jordan look ordinary.

At work, we talked endlessly about Dominique. How he would go up for a dunk, switch hands in mid-air at the very last moment, and hammer it home.

It took us nearly two years to realize that the player we thought was Dominique Wilkins was actually Michael Jordan, and the player we thought was Michael Jordan was Dominique Wilkins.

You can laugh.

These were the days before the internet, before satellite television, before YouTube highlights and social media clips.

Back then, information travelled slowly, and sometimes not at all.

Not a Footnote

But the point is this:

Dominique Wilkins was a superstar.

Not a good player.

Not a very good player.

A superstar.

In my mind, he remains Jordan's twin, even if history has largely been rewritten around Michael's greatness.

Jordan became Jordan.

Dominique became the footnote.

The Atlanta Incident

So imagine my surprise when I learned that Dominique Wilkins had been turned away from a restaurant in Atlanta, the very city where he became a legend.

The restaurant later explained that the issue was not race, but a dress code.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

The trouble with racism is that it rarely announces itself these days.

It seldom arrives wearing a white hood.

It comes disguised as procedure.

Policy.

Dress code.

Company culture.

"We were simply following the rules."

Maybe they were.

But history has taught many people of colour to be suspicious whenever rules seem to bend for some and harden for others.

As others later pointed out, the controversy was not merely about the existence of a dress code.

It was about whether the dress code was being applied consistently.

And that question has echoed through generations.

The Cadillac Called Racism

As someone once said in a documentary:

"Racism is like a Cadillac. There's a new model every year."

I have never forgotten that line.

Because prejudice adapts.

It evolves.

It learns new language.

It finds new disguises.

The Real Challenge

The challenge for people of colour is not merely identifying it.

The challenge is deciding how to respond to it without allowing it to poison the soul.

How do you defeat a people determined to minimize you at every turn?

That is a question each person must answer for themselves.

The Answer

As for me, I think the answer begins with excellence.

The kind of excellence that produced Dominique Wilkins.

The kind that produced Michael Jordan.

The kind that refuses to be diminished, even when others try.

Because excellence has a way of outliving prejudice.

And greatness has a way of surviving every attempt to deny it.

I rest my case.

Don Kenobi
#BigAgendaAfrica
#CultureNotStructure

Ashamed of the Gospel and Calling It Faith

Ashamed of the Gospel and Calling It Faith

A reflection on faith, political loyalty, judgment, humility, 

and the question every Christian must answer:

What will you tell Jesus when you meet Him?

How The Quarrel Started

"How dare you send me a post telling me not to be ashamed of the Gospel? 

You don't see your kowtowing to the evil that manifests as MAGA, pretending that it makes sense and is based on sound theology, as being ashamed of God?

What do you think I'm doing by standing up against MAGA?

Do you not think I'm standing up for Christ?

While you support those who hate Him?

You don't see that as timidity?

Do you read these things you post with any understanding?

'God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power and love and self-control. Do not be ashamed, then, of testifying to our Lord.'

How Lovely to quote the things we neither understand nor abide by!

Oh you do understand it!!

What's your testimony?

If you meet Jesus on the road today,

How will you explain your support for MAGA?

'Oh Lord, those liberals this, those liberals that...?'

You think that will cut it?

Meanwhile, 'those liberals' you condemn are found in churches day and night. Even some from the LGBTQ community.

Praying, 'Lord, save me from this affliction. For the good that I would, I do not; but the evil which I would not, that I do.'

Be afraid of judgment, my friend.

Because when Jesus says, 'Workers of iniquity,' He means those whose works lack virtue.

What virtue is there in condemning others?

Did God ask you to do that?

Did Jesus praise those who were about to stone the adulterous woman?

If you want to be condemned by Jesus, do it under your own impetus, not under the influence of a conman who has no conscience...

....Who has not, and perhaps cannot, make peace with the Lord on account of his arrogance and his arthritis.

Yes, spiritual arthritis, and perhaps physical as well.

The kind that prevents a man from bending his knee."

Timotheus to Don Kenobi: I was there! This is a faith representation of what I witnessed.

I rest my case

Don Kenobi

#OldManInTheMolue 

#MyFrancisEssays 

#WhatWillYouSay2Jesus

Balto: The Dog Who Ran Into History

2-May-2010: Posing with a beautiful statue, Central Park, New York.

2-June-2026: Learned the story behind the Statue (Balto)

A Race Against Time

In the winter of 1925, the remote town of Nome faced a deadly crisis.

A diphtheria outbreak threatened the lives of many children, but the life-saving serum needed to stop the disease was more than 600 miles away. Severe winter storms, sub-zero temperatures, and blizzard conditions made air travel impossible.

The only option was a relay of dog sled teams.

More than 20 mushers and around 150 sled dogs carried the serum across the frozen wilderness of Alaska in what became known as the 1925 Serum Run to Nome.

The Dog Called Balto

Among the final teams was a sled dog named Balto.

Led by musher Gunnar Kaasen, Balto guided his team through blinding snow and fierce winds during the last and most visible leg of the journey.

On February 2, 1925, Balto and his team arrived in Nome carrying the precious serum.

The town was saved.

The Hero and the Forgotten Heroes

Although another dog, Togo, had covered a longer and arguably more dangerous portion of the route, Balto became the public face of the mission because he led the team that delivered the serum into Nome.

Balto quickly became a national hero.

Newspapers celebrated him, a statue was erected in New York City's Central Park, and his story inspired books, films, and generations of admirers.

The inscription on Balto's statue reads:

"Dedicated to the indomitable spirit of the sled dogs that relayed antitoxin six hundred miles over rough ice, across treacherous waters, through Arctic blizzards... Endurance, Fidelity, Intelligence."

Standing Beside a Legend

When I posed beside Balto's statue in Central Park in May 2010, I knew he was famous.

What I did not know was why.

Like many visitors, I saw a handsome bronze dog and a popular photo opportunity.

Only later did I learn that this statue commemorated one of the most remarkable rescue missions in modern history.

It struck me that monuments often tell only part of the story. Behind every celebrated hero stand dozens, sometimes hundreds, of others whose names history barely remembers, yet without whom the achievement would have been impossible.

The Moral of the Story

Balto died in 1933, but nearly a century later, his story remains a powerful reminder that courage is not always found in the largest, strongest, or most famous heroes.

Sometimes it arrives on four paws, through a snowstorm, carrying hope.

Great achievements are often the result of many unsung heroes working together.

Balto became famous, but the Serum Run was a team effort, proving that ordinary individuals can accomplish extraordinary things when lives depend on it.

Perhaps that is the deeper lesson.

History often remembers the one who crosses the finish line.

Wisdom remembers the entire relay team.

Don Kenobi

Fast forward to today, Nov-2025, and that's my son and me (below).