The 1st Edition Of JONIFY Magazine series

Updated Thursday 16 May 2019 13:20
The 1st Edition Of JONIFY Magazine series

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History Of White Tigers:

The white tiger or bleached tiger is a pigmentation variant of the Bengal tiger, which is reported in the wild from time to time in the Indian states of Assam, West Bengal and Bihar in the Sunderbans region and especially in the former State of Rewa. Such a tiger has the black stripes typical of the Bengal tiger, but carries a white or near-white coat.


The white Bengal tigers are distinctive due to the color of their fur. The white fur caused by a lack of the pigment pheomelanin, which is found in Bengal tigers with orange color fur. When compared to Bengal tigers, the white Bengal tigers tend to grow faster and heavier than the orange Bengal tiger. They also tend to be somewhat bigger at birth, and as fully grown adults. White Bengal tigers are fully grown when they are 2–3 years of age. White male tigers reach weights of 200 to 230 kilograms and can grow up to 3 meters in length. As with all tigers, the white Bengal tiger’s stripes are like fingerprints, with no two tigers having the same pattern. The stripes of the tiger are a pigmentation of the skin; if an individual were to be shaved, its distinctive coat pattern would still be visible. For a white Bengal tiger to be born, both parents must carry the unusual gene for white colouring, which only happens naturally about once in 10,000 births. Dark-striped white individuals are well-documented in the Bengal tiger subspecies (Panthera tigris tigris) as well as having been reported historically in several other subspecies. Currently, several hundred white tigers are in captivity worldwide, with about one hundred being found in India. Their unique white color fur has made them popular in entertainment showcasing exotic animals, and at zoos.

Biafran Experience:

Last week, I was rushing to the airport to catch a flight from Abuja to Owerri en route to my village, Oguta. At the airport during the normal procedure of searching and screening, I surrendered my guns to the security agents. One of them remarked, “CharlyBoy na only you dey carry two guns?” I quickly fired back, “yes oooo Naija no normal again ooooooo”. Of course, they all laughed, but that came from the heart. I have smelt, felt and lived in war times. Yes, in Biafra. My youth was scandalized because of the Nigerian civil war. I saw people die on a daily basis either from bombs or hunger. The one that never left me, was the head flying off a body on one of the air raids by the Nigerian Air force, back then, life was very cheap.

When Oguta fell and we had to run as refugees to the town called Akpulu, my cousin and I learnt to substitute our meals by going into the bush to pick palm nuts. We ate some and sold others. Some of us even ate lizards at the time. That was then. But I’m witnessing a different ‘kinda’ war right now. Oh!!!! See how violence has been let loose in Nigeria. It is funny how those whose duty it is to protect us are having a tea party, as if their own protection is guaranteed, celebrating their loot and flexing their vile, fraudulent, and corrupt swags’; “dem Papa”.  Chief Tunji Braithwaite once said: “There can never be a meaningful election or progress until a revolutionary change firstly resolves Nigeria’s theft and corruption crises.”

Sorry, at this rate I fear that, only a bloody revolution can save Nigeria right now.  Unemployment and poverty may not be the deal breaker for a full-blown revolution, but this “bone face” injustice, oppression of the poor, the perceived difference between what should be and what is, is the driving force of all the build-up to a crazy war between the haves and the have- nots. The danger and the Armageddon ahead are very real and potent. Unverifiable statistics put the army of unemployed jobless Nigerian youths at 50 million. Saying that the government has absolutely no clue in solving this problem is an understatement, but saying that they couldn’t really care less, seems more like the situation on ground. As the “AreaFada”, the pain and cries of the Nigerian youth is beginning to affect me in the most disturbing and unusual way and I know for sure that their patience is no longer guaranteed.

Day in, day out, I speak to hundreds of Nigerian youths through the social highways, and the stories are getting more bizarre by the minute. Some have committed suicide, some have turned into hideous criminals, the devil have taken them over as they remain idle, jobless, uninspired by a system that has failed them and has refused to protect them. Their frustration level is driving them to do things they never before thought possible, because nothing is sacred to them anymore.

What a shame that our leaders have bluntly refused to commit to a better Nigeria! Nigerian youth’s application of violence as the means to an end and livelihood is communicating something very sinister to me, that we can’t be too far from a big bang. Yet we continue to pretend that it will sort itself out, but this knack for violence is peaking. Look around you; we are no longer the happiest people on earth “joorwahala dey and boys dey vex”. If you see ordinary “Naija” smile when everything around them is going this bad, it means that they have someone in mind to blame. War is an ugly thing but not the ugliest of things, the decay and the degraded state of moral and patriotic feelings that thinks dying for a better future is not worth war, is much worse. I believe that a man who has nothing for which he is willing to fight for, nothing he cares about more than his own personal safety, is a sitting duck.

I carry my piece because it is one of the effective tools that I am aware of for self-defence. I carry my baby because I’m a soldier for my family and loved ones, it is one of my many personal protection layers that I have created for myself. I carry this baby because on the whole, I expect that all will and should be well, but I also know that evil is walking all over the place. I carry a gun because I am a responsible armed citizen ready to defend myself and loved ones. “Yes oooo”, I’m ready for war. Simple! In the raining season, we need an umbrella, right? In a very cold weather, we need warm clothes, right? In the scorching sun, we need our hankies to wipe our face, isn’t it? So, in a violent environment, I need my piece, I rest my case.  “No try me oooooo!!!”


Legend Of Kotan by OCC  -  [Chapter 1] :

      Once upon a time in a village called katan there was a family very angry it was because they had no child they prayed and offered sacrifices to their  goddess, after nine months they had a child named kotan but the child was not a human being the name kotan means a great hero in the olden days ,after many years the child grew up his parents were now old the head of their village died kotan’s parents knew he was strong enough because they was a war going on in their village so they sent kotan to go and fight for their village kotan agreed to this. He went to their village and fought more than 200 men.  When he went back to Germany where they live, everything was scattered he went inside saying; mum, dad, he saw his parents in the ground and saw a letter, she wrote before she died. The letter said there were three men that came and shot us, they are your grandfather’s friend, but they turned out wicked. The names are; carter, John and James. Please get rid of them because they are planning to get rid of you, go to our old house and see their pictures. Goodbye. After reading this letter Kotan was melted, he decided to live his own life, he left the house.


2nd Edition to premiere on 22nd June

JONIFY Magazine

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