NIGERIA @ 61: A Curtain Drawn

I see a curtain drawn

On drift and graft;

On indiscipline and inefficiency;

On shame;

On poverty. 

I see the Light shining in, 

Displacing the thick darkness. 

I see the sickening cloud 

Giving way to abundance of rain. 

Hope in the horizon

Makes my heart glad. 

God forbid that I curse

A nation the Lord has blessed;

That I contribute to your pain;

Or, hasten your slide into perdition. 

I pledge to be a foot soldier, 

Displaying and promoting the best of you. 

Till the promised deliverance I see. 

Happy Independence to all that work and wait for your rising.

I’VE GOT TO BE RICH - The Confession of a Nigerian Teenager

What’s the hullabaloo about the teenage secondary school boys that recently killed a girlfriend for rituals in Abeokuta? And what’s the noise about the three boys (14-16 years) that left Delta State for Edo State, with alleged knowledge of their parents, to hustle and get a share of a multi-billion naira Yahoo-Yahoo business?

Let me introduce myself. I am a Nigerian teenager with only one swan song: “I’ve got to be rich.” The music is sweet to my ears; its lyrics drive me crazy. I go into a frenzy thinking about it. My heart pounds with ecstasy just imagining what it will be like to be rich. What else can I be if I am not rich? A scumbag? A rejected cornerstone? An example of a son you pray not to have? I vehemently reject those descriptions. They are not my portion in Jesus’ name!

I’ve got to be rich. And that’s it! I need money to win the hearts of my family members. Yes, I mean that, as sacrilegious as it may sound. Let’s be honest, principled parents are an endangered species. The good ones are old and locked in their rooms - too fragile to discipline, too vulnerable to wield any influence. All the grandpas and the grandmas do now is eat, sleep and recall the good times. It looks to me like the sheep of integrity and patient endurance have all abandoned the staple, leaving behind ravenous wolves. Today’s parents have no qualms. They are an anything-goes generation. The child that brings in the most money wins their hearts and gets celebrated. The family bond is no longer held by unconditional love but by performance. To be sure, performance parameters have shifted from academics to money. I know that. My friends know that. We know the way to the hearts of our parents and by extension the hearts of our siblings. When they tell us to remember the sons of whom we are. We know what they mean - go out there and make it big, whatever it takes. Who will blame us for pandering to the ones we love the most?

I’ve got to be rich. It is settled. The society has no enviable place for me without money. Nobody judges the contents of your character anymore. Everyone looks at your dress, your car, your house… It’s about the outward. It’s about what you have now. Dreams are considered inconsequential and hopes are in relegation. It’s the now that matters. So, process has been consigned to the dustbin of history and results have taken the centre stage. The end, as they say, justifies the means. Examples of this maxim abound in our politics, in our communities and in the marketplaces. So, what’s wrong in me mirroring the societal values? Can one tree make a forest? How do you survive in a culture of unbridled embezzlement by politicians and public officers? How do you handle the endemic corruption on our highways, at our borders, in our schools, and in our offices? I beg, I am not seeking to be a saint. Saints are usually canonized after they die. I doubt if anyone in this century is thinking of sainthood. The hood of money is too alluring and far more relevant now than the pain of a futuristic sainthood.

I’ve got to be rich. And no one should try to stop me. The last time I was in church, which is going to months now, the pastor mentioned money more than he mentioned Jesus. Aren’t we being hypocritical when we say, ‘What God cannot do does not exist’, when in reality we mean money and not God? To this generation, the love of money is not the root of all evil but the beauty and the essence of all life. That’s why rich people have the ears of the religious leaders and earn the respect of the faithfuls. Even in the religious houses where all men are supposed to worship God as equals, the rich still call the shots. It is obvious the rich are more equal than the rest of us. Would you blame me if I do all I can - legal or illegal, decorous or obscene- to be rich?

I’ve got to be rich. I shall spare no effort, reject no trick, and exhibit no conscience. I shall fear no danger; not even death. Afterall, what’s more dangerous than living without money? And isn’t a poor man a corpse walking on two legs?

I’ve got to be rich. Please wish me luck.

Victory In Defeat

When you are the mighty pitched against the weak, you have to be careful how you win. A massive win by you might be the very loss you detest. You are left fuming at your victory parade, alarmed that no one is applauding. You wonder why the shouts of your victory are drowned by the cries of your atrocities. You wonder why your huge victory pales into insignificance when compared to the feeble but determined resistance of the weak. You ask why yours is might and his is right. You ask again why yours was an ignominious victory and his was an honourable defeat. You are left wondering why the weak, battered and shattered, limps to the wild applause of your friends and foes. You watch with disdain your defeated opponent smile in pain as he takes a lap of honour. You suspect foul play as the ‘loser’ revels in your lack of discretion and of a clear endgame. Silently, you regret your thoughtless action. But you are too much of an arrogant dog to apologize and change course. Your dog, destined to be lost, is deaf to the sound of the hunter’s whistle. You are discredited and stripped of your last ounce of honour. 

You are Russia, he is Ukraine. And you have just suffered a heavy defeat in victory.

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Please pray for peace in Ukraine.

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This Thing We Call Love

What’s this thing we call love?

The romantic feeling that overwhelms our system?

That raises our heart beat?

The endless cuddling?

The passionate kisses?

The gazes that go on and on?

The sweet and endearing words?

Sometimes love is inexplainable;

Oftentimes, uncontrollable.

Boughed by this ecstasy,

We look for a forever feeling,

Thinking this love thing will never wane.

As push turns to shove,

Masks are off and

Pretense gives way to reality.

We query love’s claims and

Doubt its enduring power.

Destructive words fly like saucers.

Hand in gloves ready to punch.

Hearts ripped apart.

Off to the divorce court

Forever lovers become sworn enemies.

The end of a bittersweet affair.

Shouldn’t love be viewed from the prism of the Maker?

The One called Love?

The Lover that never quits?

Doesn’t every frail human lover need

A perfect Lover?

Doesn’t the imperfect need the Perfect?

Then, two imperfect lovers

Can risk loving each other

Through the thick and the thin;

A forever feeling,

Moderated by their mutual submission to each other

And to their forever Lover.

Defying the Night

My feet are sore. 

My breath ebbs away. 

I sit on the bed of depression;

My strength failing, my joy gone. 

I tell my soul: ‘You have my permission to let sorrow into your hitherto guarded space.’

No more restraints. 

To hell with drawing strength from the inner voice - 

God’s still small voice that used to urge me on, 

Saying, ‘Wait a little longer, dream some more, don’t give up the fight...till you win.’

Look, I am losing my mind. 

And who will blame me for ending it here?

Life’s been so unfair. 

More tears, less smiles. 

The cock has refused to crow; 

My dawn is locked up in the night, 

Never to herald the day. 

I crawl out of the bed to stare into the darkness. 

The pitch darkness of the night is a metaphor for my soul. 

But, wait, what’s this I am seeing? 

The stars in the sky, shining brighter than I ever saw. 

Not even the darkness could dim their light. 

The stars defy the darkness; 

Riding on the crest of the night to shine.

Look, what’s happening to me? 

Is my mind betraying me? 

Who are you to compare me with a star that defies the night? 

How dare you ask me to start running again! 

And what’s this smile, this new hope, this new strength?

Could it be true I am a star that defies the night? 

I return to bed, beaming with hope. 

I no longer fear the night; I fear me. 

I hold the ace. 

I define the night, and can defy it. 

It is my call. 

The night has all along been waiting for my command. 

Rising from the bed, I say defiantly to the darkness, ‘I am a star!’

‘The darker you are, the brighter I shine. So, bring it on!’

Dark Before Dawn

We hate the dark so much that we don’t see it for what it is - 

An aberration.  

A fleeting pain.  

A passing inconvenience. 

A storm in a tea cup.

Darkness is not made to last.

It’s a constant transition that unites the rich and the poor, the powerful and the villain, the famous and the obscure.

It would be a bore if life were all day, all light and no darkness.

Darkness makes us see the other side of light. 

Makes us take stock, learn and grow.

In the end, it is the tutorial we need to be our best in the day.

Darkness is light in hiding. 

It is where character is forged; where a good day is predicted; and where greatness is born.

It’s true that the darkest of nights produces the brightest of days.

Then, he who loves light must court darkness.

The same way a boy courts a reluctant girl in hope of an emerging love affair.

To be sure, the current darkness will not last. 

Sooner or later, there will be dawn.

A LITLE NOTE TO THE NIGERIA CHIEF OF ARMY STAFF

Dear General Tukur Buratai,

I read in the Vanguard Newspapers of 20th December 2016 that the Army was contemplating “raising up cattle ranches in such a manner that in almost all divisions and brigades, cattle will be reared.” It was at the commissioning of Mogadishu Cantonment New Mammy Market in Abuja last Tuesday. Consequently, the newspaper reported, that you have sent “officers of the Army to Argentina to look at how cattle were reared.” The Chief of Army Logistics, Major General Patrick Akem, represented you on that occasion. In that speech, you displayed a good knowledge of best practices in beef production when you noted; “Argentina has a population of 41 Million people, but it feeds about 400 million people across the world with its beef.” Kudos to you, our multi-disciplinary General.

I have a few questions for you, General. I am not pulling any punches. How can I dare even if I got high on pot? You have the gun, you remember? These are just questions from a simple minded-Nigerian. To be sure, I am not a threat to you. I am not as popular. Even my mother sometimes doesn’t remember my name. To console me, my friends say it’s because she is a nonagenarian. But I love this country like you do, even if not more. And I am not bragging. It’s the only country I can call my own. All my investments are here. I have a visible source of income and I don’t do government contracts. So, you see, General, I mean well. Can I go on with my questions now? Thank you so very much. 

I would love to start with this line of questions, just for me to be educated. Who added economic development and agriculture to your portfolio? If you are such an economic wizard, why have you not plugged the corruption holes in the military and freed up needed funds for meaningful development? I asked these questions because I might have missed the answers to them in the news. By the way, General, have you rooted out BokoHaram in the North East? This is your core competence area; am I right? And have you been able to arrest the reported restiveness of your men in the war front? I am thinking you were emboldened to make a foray into the fields of economic and agricultural developments because of your excellent performance in your primary role. Please educate me. My General, let’s assume for the sake of academic exercise that a ‘stupid’ state governor refused to allocate you land for your cattle ranches or insisted you do not deploy already allocated land for that purpose. What would you do? Would you bomb the state house and whip the recalcitrant governor into compliance? I am sure you are aware we are no longer in the military regime even though a General is our President. ThisGeneral that is our president today traveled round the country to beg for our votes. Correct me if I am wrong, General; are you aware that the National Grazing Bill was defeated on the Senate floor because the Upper House was convinced such ventures fell under the purview of the states and not that of the Federal government? Take this as breaking news, General. Armed Fulani herdsmen have killed many villagers and sacked many communities without being brought to face the law, leading many to conclude there is a military complicity. My dear General, would your pet project not be an attempt tobring through the backdoor the war that the herdsmen lost at the Senate? Would it not give credence to the complicity theory? Forgive my stupidity, General, but I have to ask this line of questions. What is it about cattle ranches and herdsmen? Is cattle-rearing the choicest profession in Nigeria? Why does the issue of cattle ranches and grazing fields keep rearing up its head? Is it just about meat or is there something you are not telling us?I need your help here to assist me unravel the mystery, so I can explain to my mother the rationale behind your project. 

My dear General. I have some experience in entrepreneurship to offer some suggestions if you insist on showing off your economic and agricultural prowess. Of course, you don’t have to take them. But history would judge you rightly or wrongly for whatever actions you take on this issue. I should go on? Okay, thanks. I would advise that you open businesses that benefit and draw manpower exclusively from the local community in which your formation is located. This would make for good military-community partnership and develop local economy. All would hail you for your service. You might even be dragged into the 2019 race by happy and prosperous communities from across the nation. Think of that prospect, General. So, what should you do? You could sell gariin Ijebuland, yam in Tivland, oporoko in Iboland and kunu in Hausaland. Did that sound good? And by the way, General, I have access to a large expanse of land, should you want to grow cassava in Abeokuta. Isn’t that neat? 

I am not big enough to caution you. But if you are as humble as I am made to know; this probably wouldn’t offend you. Please leave the contentious ranches alone. It's a hot potato. It's a divisive project. The last time I checked, you were heading a national army that existed to defend the territorial integrity and the unity of the nation called Nigeria.