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Showing posts from December, 2017

HACKS/HACKERS HOLD IT'S DECEMBER MEET-UP

Hacks/hackers hold their meet-up and end of the year party on Saturday 9th of December, 2017 at Civic Hive, 42, Montgomery Road, Yaba. The program was slated to start at 11am, it was themed- Fake news and Fact checking which was centered on how to deal with the menace of fake news that circulates therefore bringing down the profession of journalism. Hack/hackers December was based on enlightening those in attendance on how to thrash and sift out fake news in the world of big data where different kinds of informations fact and opinions is circulating. Blaise Aboh the lead trainer gave a training on infographics and taught on how to use Atlas, how to pay attention to mobile settings when publishing and others. Slot was open for 5 people to pitch their projects but only one person pitched. The project pitched was on food and the processing hygiene. The project was questioned and looked into and at the end of it all more ideas were poured into the running of the projects. John Eromosele i...

TOMORROW

The definite thoughts of tomorrow Continuously comes s the next row The thoughts that I might not see tomorrow Keeps weakening my marrow When will thou come to me? What do you hold for me? Where do I stand to be? Who will you send to me? Why should I wait for thee? Why should I wait I ask? The idea of tomorrow centers around myself Without me, tomorrow cannot be itself There is a binding strong cord This makes us two-some lord You exist for me, I exist for you I wait, come so ill have peace of mind Although your thoughts will haunt me again When will you come? What don’t you know time waits for no one? Where will I wait till you come? Who will I wait with? Why do you seem so late? Tomorrow when will you come? When you come what you are bringing? What I’m I going to be gaining? Where will I see what you are offering? Who will bring me the tidings? Why should I take what you are giving? Tomorrow what’s in it for me? When will I to the top come? What I’m I going to become? Where...

FUTURISTIC JOURNALISM; MY ROLE IN IT

Journalism is aggregating, writing, editing and presenting of news or new articles for widespread distribution, typically in periodical prints publications and broadcast news media, for the purpose of informing the audience. So then who is a journalist? He or she is someone who performs these functions in the best way he or she can after undergoing necessary qualities and getting required training. In recent times, journalists have been faced with different threats as regards the existence of journalism but journalism has rather proven to be resilient, always changing and evolving with the new trends in the society. The sociology of the media has shown that media, journalism inclusive and its entire works have transformed greatly and will still continue to change due to the new technologies that are springing up day by day. As a result of these technologies which brought about media convergence, we now have what we call the modern journalism, new journalism and futuristic journalism. ...

EVERYTHING IS IN THE SOIL FOR YOU TO SUCCEED

Once upon a time, out of a window I heard the rustling of the trees It so drew my attention This therefore changed my premonition And took me on another level of ambition My mind was focused fixedly on the tree I marveled oh this is the work of nature The sound so beautiful I felt it The movement so lovely I smelt it And from there my mind Wandered I was once told in biology class That the tree doesn’t move left or right Its only movement is upward The tree does not have to look for how to grow It taps its essence from below Then oh my mind clicked Everything you need to move up is down Anything you need to move up is from down Everything is n the soil for me to succeed I have to tap my essence from the nutrients in the ground Oh I need to plant my roots unmovable in the soil Because I need to go upward It doesn’t come from the sky but the soil A tree that forgets it roots will dry up In no short time, will it be cut off Don’t forget your roots, its man’s on...