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THE CHAMPIONS SERIES 66, THE WOMAN, TOPIC: A VIRTUOUS WOMAN

  A VIRTUOUS WOMAN CONTENT: WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE VIRTUOUS WOMAN? ORIGIN OF THE WORD VIRTUOUS. WHO IS A VIRTUOUS WOMAN? QUALITIES OF A VIRTUOUS WOMAN.       1.     WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE VIRTUOUS WOMAN?   The word Virtuous was taken from the word Virtue and etymologically Virtue was coined out of the Latin word VIRTUS and Ancient Greek word Arête. While VIRTUS means to be strong Arête means moral excellence. In constructive term VIRTUES means "strength in moral excellence". 2.     ORIGIN OF THE WORD VIRTUOUS. On a ground to study the word Virtuous. The term virtuous came a long way from the old traditional believe in the eastern part of the world down into the western believe. To be specific the Buddhism were able to define that a virtuous person is a person who is separated from the world. To their men they believed there was a need for them to be separated from their families to solitary places to ach...
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THE CHAMPIONS SERIES(46) TAKING RESPONSIBILITY

Your life is yours to live, you can decide to live it or allow others to live it for you or destroy it for you. Once upon a time, there was a man named Bukola, he was known all over his city as a great orator, whenever he appears in any occasion, such occasion comes alive, when he speaks even angels are convinced... This man was the delight of so many parties and functions in several cities. His wife always surrenders to him whenever they argue because he has a way of making her change her mind, one day he paid a visit to an old woman whose land was placed on the market when he arrived her house, she offered him a sit, cold drink, and even food, he was surprised, his attempt to reject her offer was aborted. After he finishing his meal, he decided to tell her the reason for coming, as he was trying to present his offer, the old woman told him to come back tomorrow, he was surprised because nobody has done this to him before. He went and then return the next day when he arrived h...
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POEM TITLED: HOME

  This is what we get We know suffering like the back of our palms We know the smell of death better than our farms We know war in sick flesh We know it is in the agonizing screams of mothers and babes We know it is in the guns of soldiers that ever remain fresh Home is a divided populace of meaningless greed Home is pessimism Our fathers fill their bottomless cups with speed They keep pouring, cup after cup until their eyes form a prism This bizarre world do not motivate our mothers to chip in counsel Our families hang loose on the rope of half-light We are left to form roots lighter than parcel We remain buried in the dark, yet they call us children of light What are roots if they strangle you? Who are ancestors if all they do is worsen your narrative? Home at this point is a suspect Our beautiful eyes fear the world We shower them with tears to keep them from running away The fear in our hearts leave the future crooked And whenever we arrive we begin to mend it till we pass away...
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