We have a voice—enough is enough!

I write you this homily…

Just yesterday, I flipped through my diary and it struck my memory. I still remember—a group of primary six pupils who decided their fate with a conscious stab and uncommon resolution.

It all started with the courage of a nine years old boy. They had a teacher who was unserious, lazy and dismissive. She was dicing with their future and they knew it. This boy was the class monitor. He was not as brilliant but he wanted to learn. But then because their teacher wasn’t ready to teach them, he had to complain. First, he mentioned the problem to a few pupils in his class and they opposed him. The issue was then reported to the teacher who took immediate action. It was a day never to forget. The teacher caned the boy until he bled and sadly, the class captaincy was stripped off him.

Even so the teacher continued unabashedly in her indolence and insensitivity. She hardly explained a topic well. Infact, she concentrated more on beating than teaching. Class exercises and register were rarely marked. She didn’t supervise their notes. Corrections were not effected. And she (the teacher) received her wages.

The common entrance examination was a few months away. The little boy single-handedly decided to dare again. He was really sad and worried. Other pupils didn’t show concern. Some were afraid while the others were too playful to notice the insidious danger lurking in the path of their future. One day however, the boy bravely wrote a heartfelt letter to the headmaster of his school. When his classmates realized what he had done, they feared him and pledged solidarity. Then the headmaster confirmed that the boy had told the truth. A change was imperative!

That boy was my friend. That boy is a man now. That boy perhaps was me.  

Many Nigerians are low and depressed today; alas! Only a few can raise a hand and say, “I have a voice. Enough is enough!” The preponderance of this statistics is damning. I do not see the possibility of a greater tomorrow without a quasi-mindset from the majority, who are indeed suffering because of the greed, egoism and exploits of the clueless minority. It is pre-prandial to take action, like the primary six pupil whose determination brought about change in his class. Had he folded his arms?

In the wake of Farouk-Otedola bribery scandal, I begin to imagine if these politicians think of us as animals. They had tried to forestall the truth behind subsidy rigmarole and its shocking report. We squeezed that out. Now they have averted the prosecution of the cabal who are mercilessly impoverishing the nation.

However, I refuse to chide them further. Remember this is just a homily. It is me who is to be blamed. It is you who have sealed your loudmouth for fear that General Abacha is still alive. It is us—who have let another man call our wives prostitutes to our face. I pity us. Things are happening—strange things. This is more serious than a Jet Li’s movie. The ungodly and their power struggle?—they will ruin us more. Their infatuation with corruption and wanton gluttony are well targeted and defined in depleting our hopes of a better future…so that their children can ‘chop’ without ‘work’ and then ours will ‘work’ and not ‘chop’. #GodForbid! Our family shall not depend on palm kernel.

We have a voice—enough is enough! This is the only power we can generate from our minds. It would be a masterstroke if we go for their jugulars and set our minds against these so called ‘Political juggernauts’ that have infested on our economy. We could achieved what @ekekee.com has termed ‘Intellectual Revolution…A Synergy of great Minds!” or recite some pro-change verses from ‘the Book of Revolution’ @ Omojuwa.com.

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Kashimawo--Let us wait and see...In honouring Late M.K.O Abiola

I find it hard to celebrate. Sadly, sometimes I even find it impossible to honour. But then, I cannot dishonour?—may the gods of democracy forbid!

An ideal scenario…

Once upon a time, a powerful king coveted the wife of his most loyal servant and boasted, “I am the king—I take what I want.”

Days later, the servant rebelled against the king and threatened that unless his wife was returned to him; he would go maniac. The king rebuked this servant and forthwith, sentenced him to death. Shockingly, the other servants in the royal household stood out in solidarity and condemned the king’s decision. Obviously, he had done wrong. He admitted and ordered the release of his most loyal servant. But then, he refused to fulfill a second promise—to return the woman he had coveted. Fearing that his servants would protest again, the king forestalled and murdered all of them. The pursuit for justice was thus, defeated. Forever?—let us wait and see!

As activists, civil societies, the Nigerian government and south-west states remember M.K.O Abiola; I join them as an advocate for democracy but exempt myself from any sort of relish. (I will not taste wine today.) Let us wait and see!

I wouldn’t go through the rigmarole of saying all that pertains to June 12. No doubt, it is the day to honour because Nigeria recorded in its book of chequered history, the freest and fairest election so far. Some of us witnessed the unprecedented response to ballot and love for democracy on that day. When again will people gather en masse, put aside their ethnic inhibitions and religious bigotries to decide the fate of this nation? Will there ever be another election modeled on June 12’s. Let us wait and see!

The annulment of that historic election remains an embarrassing slap on the face of democracy. It has staggered our hope. June 12 ought to be a symbolism of hope—but one man’s tragic hand changed everything. Had Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida fulfilled the promise, Nigeria could possibly be in the manifold of brighter lights now.    

But then, we will wait and see. Who knows tomorrow? However, nothing rules out that Abiola was like a scarecrow in the field of our greenery. Through the grapevine, I can see that June 12 is the day corrupt leaders and enemies of democracy dread. Let us wait and see! A greater honour could be done to M.K.O Abiola’s heroism and the labours of our heroes past.

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CLARION NOISE : Right before our eyes!

Hmmn! People of Eba Kingdom. I gong you all to arise and search for your lanterns. Behold, the largest meat in our mother’s pot has just been stolen—by the rats we allowed into our homes. We must find this meat because it behooves us. It is the meat for our children, and their own children shall bite from it as well.

Before now, we permitted bedbugs and lo!—they forced us out from our mattresses. We now sleep on hard bare floors. When the mosquitoes visited, they said they only cared for water and perhaps, coffee—they now depend on our blood. The annoying cockroaches too, and pestering flies are greedily after our foods. They relentlessly contaminate our water and have made the weakest amongst us, lepers.

I am indeed, deeply saddened. We could have averted this dire situation. Had we bore in mind that dangerous wild animals were once pets? Who could have thought that anyone could tame fire-enabled dinosaurs?

I have the National aid-memoire. Each time I look at it, I cry. It is blood-stained. I see faces of the innocent, short-lived patriots and heroes of our democracy. It is with heavy hearts that they ask, “Why? Why have we let it happen—right before our eyes?” A clan of thieves raided our homes. They raped our wives, invaded our barns and stole our yams—right before our eyes! 

But I saw it coming. I complained about Ogobe, that little boy that used to steal N5. His mother warned me to stop meddling. Now Ogobe has built an empire of triads. He has nurtured a breed of crooks and has developed a curriculum for theft and corruption. Welldone, Ogobe! You are a great pervert!

Great hunters and the few good men in our land! Are you ready to hunt for the stolen meat? While you can—wouldn’t you restore our pride and hope so that by tomorrow evening, we would be having a great meal? Would you not return the smiles on the faces of our children and prevent them from kwashiorkor? Formidable, I know—but attainable! Naijans gird up! Time don reash!

Awakening protest! 

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