Showing posts with label oluwadamilare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oluwadamilare. Show all posts

Wednesday, 8 July 2015

SETTING UP A SMALL SCALE GARRI PROCESSING PLANT

YOU CAN GET A FREE MANUAL ON HOW TO MANAGE YOUR GARRI PROCESSING FACTORY EFFECTIVELY WITHOUT A HITCH HERE

Kindly visit our garri dedicated blog for everything related to Garri processing.

www.garriprocessing.blogspot.com


***

Allow me to digress from the usual story telling or the likes that frequent my blog-line. This simple piece is complied because of the people who contact me for details on cassava cultivation and importantly, the minimum requirements of setting up a garri processing plant. I believe this will also help those who has interest in doing so.

Some of you might be wondering what Garri means, especially those who weren't from the western part of Africa and beyond. Not to worry, I will give a brief introduction before going to production by setting up a small scale processing factory.

a finished garri ready for consumption
looks yummy, isn't it? This is a typical African dish. Eba, from Garri, ready to be devoured with a very rich vegetable stew

Garri (also known as gari, garry, or tapioca) is a popular West African food made from cassava tubers. The spelling 'garri' is mainly used in Nigeria, Cameroon, Sierra Leone, Benin, Togo and in Ghana.

Actually, while in school, we call it - G2SO4 .... Garrium di-oxo sulphate six. Please, don't bother to check your chemistry books because it doesn't exist. It is a staple food widely consumed within some West African countries, and has recently etched it's name amongst the most exported African food products. The end product is packed in 50kg bags or less, and exported to other countries.




To make garri, cassava tubers are peeled, washed and grated or crushed to produce a mash. The mash is placed in a porous bag and weights are placed on the bag for one to two days or more to press excess water and starch out. It is then sieved (or sifted) and fried in an extra large clay frying pot with or without oil. The resulting dry granular garri can be stored for long periods. It may be pounded or ground to make a fine flour.

 
a local fryer.            www.ellist.com

 
If you are interested going into a well-planned and effective garri processing business, then there are some things you need to consider..


1. Land


You've got no choice but to have the land. An acre (6plots) is okay for a moderate processing company...
Of course it shouldn't be water logged, or the type that is not properly drained. The reason is very simple; so that you won't have yourself an unhealthy environment breeding flies and diseases due to the always wet environment.
This applies mainly to those who had no intention to screed the surrounding ground. But if u are ready to spend the money and screed the whole floor, then you're good to go.




www.ntoafrica.com






Some finished Product packed ready for export

www.nairaland.com

2. The processing building: this is built on the land


This will be classified into two compartments;

(a) the wet area

(b) the dry area


THE WET AREA


The wet area houses all necessary machinery see to the processes of washing the peeled cassava, fermenting and pressing. Most people prefer a very large trough where they wash thoroughly by hand. The grinder grinds into slurry, and the mash are packed in a porous sacks and placed on the fermentation racks to ferment. After this, the hydraulic pressers does its job of removing the waters.

The wet area should be kept clean always. I usually recommend cheap ceramic or rubber floor tiles to enable smooth and easy cleaning.

Kindly visit our garri dedicated blog for everything related to Garri processing.

www.garriprocessing.blogspot.com


THE DRY AREA


The dry area comprises of the simple machine that sieves the pressed cassava. It also contains the fryer, and the again the simple machine that sieves roasted cassava (now garri) into required grains as required.

The dry area also houses the store. The stores are usually 2, one for keeping the packing sacks, and the other for storing the already packed garri ready to go out into the market.

The latter store will comprise two doors. One from the inside for storing, and the other outside for loading finished products into into truck. This enables a well organized FIFO process.

The dry area also allows the scale to found a sitting place. The scale's use is well known to all in measuring into the required quantity.
Toilets, borehole or a clean well, and the truck for delivery will have to settle outside.

Some uses fence while some love the open space. Either way, there will be a shed where fresh cassava tuber are delivered and peeled hand or by a cassava peeling machine. The disadvantages are always with them. While hand peeling wastes time and consumes both energy and money, the peeler has it's own, mainly two:

1. When the body of the tuber is not regular, it doesn't peel off every skin. You will still have to pay peelers to peel the remaining.


2. If you have to adjust the peeling machine to peel deeper, be ready to loose most of your tubers o waste.


MACHINERY NEEDED:


1. Peeler

a peeler in action                      www.elaborbizonline.com

 


2. Grinder



a grinder in action  


3. Hydraulic presser

hydraulic pressers               www.flicker.com


4. Mechanical Sieve

www.wmintegrateddevelopment.org       mechanical sieves

 5. Fryer

mechanical fryer

After frying, you sieve to separate the coarse from the fine produce. Some people likes them as larger finished products while some prefer it to be fine finished.


Garri production is very lucrative, and widely consumed.

the popular Nigerian international musician, D'banj, advertising his own garri product.
A white lady enjoying her ration of African food produced from garri

* it is advisable to finish the floors of your small factory with ceramic or rubber tiles for easy cleaning.

 

if you wish to set up your garri processing plant in a small scale, or you wish to know more, please contact me via:

+2347035593128

garriguy007@gmail.com



Kindly visit our garri dedicated blog for everything related to Garri processing.



YOU CAN GET A FREE MANUAL ON HOW TO MANAGE YOUR GARRI PROCESSING FACTORY EFFECTIVELY WITHOUT A HITCH HERE

Friday, 19 June 2015

BEFORE YOUR MOMENT OF MADNESS (A short play)


SPEAKER: [walks to the lectern and swipes over the screen of his notepad. Clears throat and faces audience]: Did you hear that Bimpe is dead?

AUDIENCE: [shocked]: Haaaa!

SPEAKER: [unfazed]: Relax. That is not the only news I have for you.

AUDIENCE: [looked at each other]

SPEAKER: [clears throat again] Judging by your first reaction, I could deduce that you didn’t know that Akin didn’t graduate.

[A man stands up from the audience]: That is impossible; he was the best student in his department.
[The audience murmurs, knocking their foreheads at each other, transmitting both disbelief and surprise]


SPEAKER: [smiling. He raises his hand as a sign for them to stop murmuring while he swipes with the other. There came silence]: And lastly, I bring you the news that Blessing is in the hospital, in a coma.

A LADY:  [stands abruptly from the audience]: Why all these?

SPEAKER: Good question! [His face lights up in excitement] That is the reason we are all here. For the fact that these three were once part of our team [he pauses], I have no pity to give them over their present state, or predicament.

Wickedness!! Bad leader!!! [The audience passes various unpleasant judgments].

SPEAKER: [laughing like a mad scientist who just invested a virus. He gestured for them to cool down or sit down] What happened to these three once-wise-people with great potentials and hopes hung around their neck, could, or should I say will, happen to more of you soon!
[He started laughing again; that mad scientist’s kind of laughter. His voice reverberates through the speakers].

[By this time, the audience has started to rustle from seat to seat, some asking for permission to start trouble with the speaker while some were asking for calm. The speaker kept smiling, shaking his head. He leaned on the lectern with his elbow, watching the events bore before him. Several minutes later, there was calmness, and he was reluctantly urged to continue]

SPEAKER: I will ask for you to listen carefully while I speak, and no matter how you get angry while I do this, you must allow me finish, then you can start your troubles with me for rejoicing at the fall of some of our important members
[He pauses for their reaction, and they urge him to be quick and be short. He thanked them] …
Three weeks ago, when Blessing visited me at my office, right before she was plunged into  a vegetative state of coma by her loving husband[short laugh], I tried to advise her to seek a legal separation in her union with her husband whom apparently, was in the wrong profession. The husband currently works as a banker, but he could have been a successful boxer. Who knows, he if was only using Blessing as a boxing practice [he chuckled]? I said, she could have gotten him a punching bag as a birthday present instead of using herself for his punching practice. But instead, Blessing talked to me about how she was the one making him angry, and how she could still make it work. I laughed as usual and told her to her face that it is impossible to change a man. You can only change what is not embedded in a gene, and not how a man was created. Apparently, she was angry, because she sent me a text later in the day [he raises his tablet] about how I wasn’t married, and I cannot understand what love means. So, I shut my mouth, only to be called by the same husband that our dear Sister lies in expectation in the hospital. And while our stupid Sister decided against protecting herself from the abusive marriage through legal separation, the husband was wise enough to protect his own image. He said our sister fell from the stairs!

AUDIENCE: Ha! [There were murmurs of anger, grieves and many more].

SPEAKER: [Urges them to calm down by slapping his palm on the wooden lectern] silence please…please… [The noise faded out] Like I said, that is not all [clears his throat]. Akin, our bright young man who joined us after the seminar we held at the University of Lagos, is now a school dropout.

A MAN: [stands up abruptly] That is impossible!
[He looked around at the other audiences for their reaction before he continues]
He has only one year left. He wanted our help, and we contributed for his tuition fees right here!
[He shouted the last two words and slams his hand on the backrest of the seat in his front. The 'seater' looked back at him with annoyance and hissed. The audience starts to murmur again, but the speaker was full of smiles].

A LADY: Surely, our leader [she points to the speaker], didn’t give him the money!

[There were shouts of ‘yes’, ‘maybe’ and several others]

SPEAKER: [Not moved by their accusations, he calmly opened his clutch bag, and brings out two pieces of papers. He hands it to the usher beside him to pass it around for the audience to see].

USHER: [collects it, walks to the audience, and gave the papers to the first audience, who will glance through and pass it on to the next]

SPEAKER: That is the duplicate of the bank deposit slip we used in paying into Akin’s account, and the letter of acknowledgment and appreciation he sent after he confirmed the receipt of the aid.
[He bites his lower lip, nods to an imaginary melody only he could hear, and taps his lectern playfully like beating a drum. The usher returns the papers to him].
Thank you [he collects the slips]. So, I later found out that Akin was sick, and that sickness affected his brain and could no more think properly, so, he squandered his money!

AUDIENCE: [shows pity. Most of them shake their heads, or bites their fingers]

A MAN: But why did you still say you felt no pity for him? At least, if we may conclude that Blessing allowed her own predicament, what about poor Akin, who was struck by a disease?

SPEAKER: Good question. [He gets down from the podium, and moves towards the audience]. Akin didn’t get struck by a disease that he couldn’t control. His girlfriend gained an admission but couldn’t pay her tuition fees. So, our own great Akin decided to give her his own money with the hope of securing another one before the deadline. Well, it happened that he couldn’t make the deadline.

AUDIENCE: That is madness!

SPEAKER: [Laughs wickedly] Madness you say? But it is ‘love’, isn’t it? I bet he will be fulfilled seeing his girlfriend in school than himself. After all, he has he has tried as far as education is concerned. [He lets out a wicked chuckle again].

A LADY: That is craziness! How dumb of him! [The audience agreed]

SPEAKER: [hushes her] DO not say that. How could that can’t be craziness? He only helped a damsel in distress, just like we helped him raise the cash for his tuition fees. And I can tell you, unless the girl is crazy, she will get herself another man right in the school. I don’t think after she graduated, she will be glad to associate herself with a dropout! Especially [he pauses], a poor one like Akin! [He reverberates in his evil kind of laughter again]. It was solely on Akin, who wasn’t forced at gunpoint. It was his decision, and whatever the outcome, he should deal with it.  The same way I wish Bimpe will not be in hell for aborting for his boyfriend!

AUDIENCE: What?

A LADY: So, Bimpe died through abortion?

SPEAKER: Well, her friend said, and I quote, “her boyfriend said he wasn’t ready, so he begged her to abort it for them”. May her soul Rest In Peace, even though I knew her soul will be Reserved In Punishment!

AUDIENCE: Ha!!!

SPEAKER: [gets serious] Yes. May the guy live on, and enjoy his life in prosperity, in the bosoms of another woman. May Bimpe’s soul….well [he shrugs], who knows? I bet she will be regretting now, I bet she will have wished clocked were turned backwards, and she would have made the right decision of abstinence, or protecting herself. I know Akin will wish he was wise, and if…if…if only Blessing will come back alive from her coma, since the doctors say they are not sure, she would have wished she listened to my advice. She would have bought her husband a punching bag, or leave the abusive union.

I agree, Love exists, but it resides only with God [he raises his finger], and that has been proven over and over again. But you guys [he pointed to the audience and moves his hand from one end to another] will never learn.  You will continue to wallow in the dark outcome of this man-made love, which the wise has always wielded as a weapon against the fool. Now, who are the fools in these stories? And who will remain the fool after this story? The question will be answered in the end. You either be the wise one, or the idiot!

[With this, I walked back to the podium, packed my notes and my tablet, and I left through the door at the side of the stage]

CURTAIN DROPS, AND AUDIENCE REMAINS SILENT!

Saturday, 13 June 2015

THE STORY OF A GHOST


THE STORY OF A GHOST

This is a sad story, the story of a man who died trying. This is a story if a man who wished he hadn't listened to the distant yearning of darkness. This is a true life story, and it was written by a ghost!

Life was very easy since I was eating from my mother's palm. Things have been very great, feeding fat on my mother's purse. Then there was a twist of event, a bad turnaround. Things were expected to turn, but I never knew it would be for the worse.

Months turned to years, and suddenly I was 33 years old, still eating from my mother's palm, and feeding fat on her purse. Not that I did not try, not that I was lazy. Not that I wasn't educated, it's just that things were determined to be foggy.

I tried my hands on some few odd jobs, I tried to be self-employed. I pinched my hopes with my hard work, but was humbled with failures and woes. Soon, I became depressed; I wished to be on my own. I hoped I had a job, so I could repay my mother's effort. 

I was a good a Christian. I believed in God. I refused all invitations to atrocities, but yet I felt forsaken. My faith in God dwindled, I think he was never alive. My trust in him petered away, eaten by my fruitless efforts.

My mates got married, living large in sins and glory. They got jobs and said my time will come, but it seems there was never a time.Years turned to more years, and soon its decade waved from afar. My wishes now took a new turn, and I wished I was never born. Depression slowly crept in, I took solace only in talking to myself. Suicidal thoughts become frequent, and I began to believe in its wise songs of freedom.

I have written many applications, attended interviews like they were rituals. I have read so many company's profiles that I can begin to tell you offhand. And yet God refused to listen, I felt my prayers were wasted. I believed he wasn't even looking at me, maybe his face has been covered by the thick clouds.

My girlfriend has left me, even though she said she was the problem. I knew the truth, she couldn't wait any more years, not after waiting for ten. We thought things would be better after I graduated and served. It got better for her, but not for me, and that was the beginning of the problems. At first she got pregnant, but went ahead to abort it. And when I asked why, she said, because I cannot afford it.

First she will miss my calls, and she will apologize. But soon she started to ignore them and told me she had only been busy. Then there was another guy, a working class and a friend. At first he was just her solace until he became the one she is willing to marry. Though she asked me to move on, and she even prayed that I find my kind. She said she is certain that with my efforts I will eventually make it in life. But my songs of hope cannot put food on the table, and my efforts cannot buy her clothes. My pleas to her seem like a madman, who believed that everyone else is mad!

So, I listened to my soul, and its yearnings to be free. And to suicide I gave my ears, and he rocked me to sleep with his sweet lullaby of freedom!

But now I wish I hadn't listened, I wish my faith was strong. I tried to break free from the rope I have slipped my head into, my life sliding freely into the great beyond. There is no breaking free, there is no escaping. There is no need to struggle, for I ensured the rope was tight enough.

Right in my face, suicide clapped and laughed. The devil wined and dined as I slowly gave up my breath. I thought about my mom and her endless advice. She asked me to be strong, a virtue I always boasted that I have. Now I realize that I am weak, I admit that I am a coward. I will leave my mom in an endless grieve, and I wished I had never done this.

Hell awaits my soul, and my troubles become in vain. And yes, I feel no more pain, but the horror will linger forever.

Right after I died, while my soul awaits its judgement, I stood right beside my dangling body, hanging lifelessly from the ceiling. Then the unexpected thing happened, a text came into my phone. They said I have been hired, and my appointment letter is up for me to grab!

What a waste!



I hope to pass this message, as I walked my lonely path to hell. Please ensure you never give up, for one day it will surely be good.

*picture from www.loverofsadness.net

 
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