I love Nigeria, I sincerely do because I possibly have no choice, I could love America, England, Poland, or even neighboring Ghana, become a Nigerian-Arabian or Israeli born Nigerian it makes no difference because we are Nigerians, we are who we are…very special in our own way.
So, I love Nigeria, the land where everything, anything, all things are possible, it depends only from where you stand and what you can benefit.
From Lagos, our own New York, to Abuja, the expensive London with Beverly Hills homes only for the rich and mighty to Ekiti, our own cowboy Texas…We have own Chicago styled Police, then we have so many Bronx sites where you could get anything from fake passport to late Abacha or Abiola’s signature.
Nigeria…God’s own country in black Africa, how many times have I been told that even God is Nigerian especially when we have goofed and expect a miracle, or when we are loosing a soccer match.
In the last two years we have demonstrated why we are Nigerians; with the APC administration it has been more of the same. While it could have been worse, it’s not any better.
So, did Hammed Ali wear that uniform, can anyone be kind enough to tell us how that whole drama played out, how much the did the actor and boss interregnum add to building the nation. All that noise about a million-dollar car imported by Mr. We-We of Them-Them Association.
Several months have passed and we have forgotten the Magu of EFCC versus We-no-go-gree club of the National Association, the hush and push, and the take one take two, all which has been relegated to the bin.
Which reminds me of the dudes at ICPC, where are they ‘sef’, looks like they have been overshadowed by the action of the boss acts, the dramatist and shenanigans at the EFCC and DSS, while the Code Of Conduct Bureau has provided us with non-ending epilogues.
The budget padding ended as a paddy-paddy arrangement, it was one of the many noises that its echoes are reminiscent of what the current administration is; ECHOES!
For believers/unbelievers, the actors and boss in Boko Haram continually to be technically wiped out but its last breath is dangerous, and we are divided over the technical fall of Sambisa, and the Chibok episodes.
We have been treated to the movie Coordinating Minister in the past, and now part two is out and already selling as Coordinating Acting President.
The National Assembly is never one to be left in the lurch, it has in its fold actors like “shaking like this and shaking like that”, and boss like Dinostica, and those that specializes in chasing babes in the US.
The Wikes, Fayoses, Fans Kayodes, Jewish-Nigerians and Arab-Nigerians like Nnamdi Kanu, Dr. Junaid, Ango Abdullahi continue to make sure that we are not short on Baba Salas of the Awada kerekere to lighten us with their tragic comedy.
We cannot hold anyone liable; we remain expectant, with expectations as high as believing that heaven in Nigeria is not far away. Some of the promises now denied even sounding like the ability to bring back our fore fathers to life.
The actors and the boss constitute less than 3% of the population but they are the tiny tin gods we have them situated everywhere, they have been exchanging carrots at our collective expense because they know us, we are Nigerians.
They know most of us only want a measure of salt, rice, few yards of cotton materials with their heads on the fabrics. They know us, they know we cannot do without them, some of them feel without their heads, or mischievous smile on papers no one would buy the morning newspapers. They know we feel humbled when they tell us they care.
They know we are gullible, we love life and cannot resist their Isi Ewu and bottle of Gulder politics in the East, neither can we go far from the amala and obe ewedu welled laced with assorted beef in Ibadan, and for us up, the more Tuwo Shinkafa the more we nod positively to their lies. They tell us that it is about us, and getting there, they have forgotten us.
It is only in Nigeria that while it was not raining, they offered their umbrellas and when the rain comes, they collected it back, they brought brooms and the house now is even dirtier. Do we know them, I doubt very much, although sadly when events are weighed vis a vis the past it is obvious that we know them, we just refuse to accept the truth.
We cannot say we do not know that all these drama is just for a piece of the cake of relevance, and rehabilitation.
They know how docile we are, and how we cherish the little luxuries of life pinched to us rather than taking our right in whole. They know that our so-called activists will betray us. They simply know way too much, so they manipulate us, make us worship them and make us glorify their stupidity.
They know that we do not know, and even when we know we keep silent, so the maze continues, we keep going the vicious circle and still keep searching for what we did not loose. We do not know that we are part of the entire puzzle, we do not know why. So they owe us no explanation when they move from party to party because they will always have followership…it is poverty of the mind not just the pocket.
We do not know our collective worth, we do not see our strength, they know so they exploit our weaknesses and always they win, like they are almost doing again.
For how long, is there change in the horizon; is there anything to hold on to, are we going to be knowledgeable at least this once to change the course of our destiny? The actors and the boss…The politics of Nigeria, the politics of depravation, a bitter politics run by a bunch so easily confused…the future is bright and ours for the taking but then do we know or we are again leaving it to them—Only time will tell.
By Prince Charles Dickson