WakdokSamuelStephen
I was a peacock
Coloured with pride.
I was a deer
Wild and full of marks.
I was a jackal
My long legs gave me advantage
And my bushy tails made me wager and swagger.
I was a lamb
Immature yet innocent.
I was a cub
Born un-tamed and growing naturally.
I was a lost coin
Stamped with my shinning value.
They found me
Took out my colours and left me pride less.
They found me
And domesticated me
They found me and cut my tails.
They found me
And took away my innocence.
They found me.
I am no more a lost coin.
They needed no tear gas to smoke me out.
They didn't have to use weapon of mass destruction.
They just needed a simple economic melt down
They introduced recession and infringed on my economic rights.
I can not be meek again.
They found me.
Did the find you too?
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Monday, September 21, 2009
GENERIC MANIFESTO
Unused vocabularies, unpopular words
All rolling…tsunami, hurricanes;
Yet all existed, long before we exist.
We met us on this journey.
The euphemism of life’s struggle for all that is good and even ‘ungood’.
In life’s nudity.
In the documentary of this mundane generation,
We got lost because most chose a lost cause.
While mentored to explore lust we must seek to discover love.
How do we differentiate between the
Lust inherent in love, or the
Love gold plated by lust?
Do we seek to explicitly determine nature or
Strive to redirect the flow?
We can but be failures, so bad with lies and pretext.
So impossible with sycophancy,
Impatient with greed and proliferation of underdevelopment.
Where will success in these vices lead?
The night shines because our day is blurred.
We are bound with sexuality, but will prefer sensuousness
Taking a recess into the abyss of relativity
In between the linens of dialectics,
We must comprehend this materialism.
We are products of the known,
Dancing into the warm embrace of the unknown.
In our loins hide either or both
Success, failure. Or success and failure.
Is this an oxymoron for fertility?
Was this poetic or obscene?
Yet they all existed long before we did.
And will exist long after we cease.
It is a generic manifesto
advocating a generational rebirth.
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All rolling…tsunami, hurricanes;
Yet all existed, long before we exist.
We met us on this journey.
The euphemism of life’s struggle for all that is good and even ‘ungood’.
In life’s nudity.
In the documentary of this mundane generation,
We got lost because most chose a lost cause.
While mentored to explore lust we must seek to discover love.
How do we differentiate between the
Lust inherent in love, or the
Love gold plated by lust?
Do we seek to explicitly determine nature or
Strive to redirect the flow?
We can but be failures, so bad with lies and pretext.
So impossible with sycophancy,
Impatient with greed and proliferation of underdevelopment.
Where will success in these vices lead?
The night shines because our day is blurred.
We are bound with sexuality, but will prefer sensuousness
Taking a recess into the abyss of relativity
In between the linens of dialectics,
We must comprehend this materialism.
We are products of the known,
Dancing into the warm embrace of the unknown.
In our loins hide either or both
Success, failure. Or success and failure.
Is this an oxymoron for fertility?
Was this poetic or obscene?
Yet they all existed long before we did.
And will exist long after we cease.
It is a generic manifesto
advocating a generational rebirth.
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RICE AND THE FALLACY OF HOPE IN NIGERIA.
WakdokSamuelStephen.
The Nigerian project is becoming more of a charade by the day. Clearly it is now a sham, a mirage. Daily we loose track of what it takes to achieve the dream of an unashamed destiny. Nigeria is a like car moving at one hundred and eighty kilometers per hour. That is dangerously too high for any car to be driving at, yet that is not all. We are moving at this speed with our gear on reverse. Nigeria is moving backward and not forward. From agriculture to culture, education, health, water, housing, economy, security, health, governance and many more. We are eroding infrastructure and institutions alike. When we move a step forward, we take eleven steps backward.
Take the case of rice. We no longer have local rice along side the so called foreign rice in our markets. Definitely we are taking many rice farmers out of work by this trend.The bag of rice hitherto going for five thousand naira now goes for ten thousand naira and even more. Rice is just one aspect. We are fast loosing grip of hope in many other aspects. Years ago, eating rice was perceived to be a luxury. It was reserved for festivities and Sundays except for the rich. It was common to find tuwo, fufu, amala and other swallow on the table of the poor. This was because soup was cheaper back then. There were gardens and vegetations everywhere for vegetables and the likes used in making soup. Gradually, soup became more expensive because the gardens gave way to bungalows and stalls. Hoes have given way to shovels and hammers. Rice moved from luxury to become the staple food for the generality of Nigerians especially the urban dwellers. With rice, all a poor man needs is salt, oil, pepper and water, if he can afford maggi and Cray fish, then good. Interestingly now, the rice is getting out of reach again. What is the fate of the common man?
We are eroding infrastructure and institutions alike. When we move a step forward, we take eleven steps backward.
We can no longer offer hope to the average Nigerian that things are getting better. Hope is good for breakfast but very bad for dinner. When people can not afford to eat, clothe and have a roof over their heads, then this hope is very fallacious. The hope we are been given is a mistaken idea. It is a misplaced faith that majority of Nigerians now have.
We pay for food, medicine, education, and rent. We pay taxes, we buy pure water. We even beg to queue and buy fuel; we pay for light we do not get. The suya man uses generator to illuminate his suya spot. Churches use generators to power their sermon, hospitals need generators for surgeries. I am sure even prostitutes have torch lights in their hand bags to guide them on the streets at night. After all darkness is the electricity robbers need to operate at night. Imagine my feelings when I first saw a generator under the table in NEPA office. It was as if I saw charm on a church alter. For the sake of simple arithmetic ;if PHCN gave 12 hours of light daily, a child born in 1999 must have spent 5 years of his/her life in darkness. This would have been a very generous analysis because it is very illusionary. We pay for all and get nothing. All we get is the fallacy that someday things will get better. Some promises year in, year out.
We can no longer offer hope to the average Nigerian that things are getting better. Hope is good for breakfast but very bad for dinner
If we continue to obstinate, we will never make it in the future. If after wasting away the past we are not committed to a rebuilding process in the present, then I am sorry the hope of innocent Nigerians died yesterday. We can forgive the past, but if we keep stifling the present, certainly we have already murdered the future again. Every today was a yesterday killed and eventually every tomorrow may become a wasted today. The future is gloomy and daily we are confronted with problems that should not have arisen in the first place. From the Niger Delta crises to election riggings. From religious disturbances to strikes in various sectors.
If after wasting away the past we are not committed to a rebuilding process in the present, then I am sorry the hope of innocent Nigerians died yesterday. We can forgive the past, but if we keep stifling the present, certainly we have already murdered the future again. Every today was a yesterday killed and eventually every tomorrow may become a wasted today.
We are a blessed country but as a people we chose to curse ourselves. Or rather our leaders found it profitable to rape us; and afterwards call us harlots. This is a country that yearly budgets, rolling plans, development plans, visions and agenda have been sung and still been sung since flag independence was won in 1960.Yes, flag independence.
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The Nigerian project is becoming more of a charade by the day. Clearly it is now a sham, a mirage. Daily we loose track of what it takes to achieve the dream of an unashamed destiny. Nigeria is a like car moving at one hundred and eighty kilometers per hour. That is dangerously too high for any car to be driving at, yet that is not all. We are moving at this speed with our gear on reverse. Nigeria is moving backward and not forward. From agriculture to culture, education, health, water, housing, economy, security, health, governance and many more. We are eroding infrastructure and institutions alike. When we move a step forward, we take eleven steps backward.
Take the case of rice. We no longer have local rice along side the so called foreign rice in our markets. Definitely we are taking many rice farmers out of work by this trend.The bag of rice hitherto going for five thousand naira now goes for ten thousand naira and even more. Rice is just one aspect. We are fast loosing grip of hope in many other aspects. Years ago, eating rice was perceived to be a luxury. It was reserved for festivities and Sundays except for the rich. It was common to find tuwo, fufu, amala and other swallow on the table of the poor. This was because soup was cheaper back then. There were gardens and vegetations everywhere for vegetables and the likes used in making soup. Gradually, soup became more expensive because the gardens gave way to bungalows and stalls. Hoes have given way to shovels and hammers. Rice moved from luxury to become the staple food for the generality of Nigerians especially the urban dwellers. With rice, all a poor man needs is salt, oil, pepper and water, if he can afford maggi and Cray fish, then good. Interestingly now, the rice is getting out of reach again. What is the fate of the common man?
We are eroding infrastructure and institutions alike. When we move a step forward, we take eleven steps backward.
We can no longer offer hope to the average Nigerian that things are getting better. Hope is good for breakfast but very bad for dinner. When people can not afford to eat, clothe and have a roof over their heads, then this hope is very fallacious. The hope we are been given is a mistaken idea. It is a misplaced faith that majority of Nigerians now have.
We pay for food, medicine, education, and rent. We pay taxes, we buy pure water. We even beg to queue and buy fuel; we pay for light we do not get. The suya man uses generator to illuminate his suya spot. Churches use generators to power their sermon, hospitals need generators for surgeries. I am sure even prostitutes have torch lights in their hand bags to guide them on the streets at night. After all darkness is the electricity robbers need to operate at night. Imagine my feelings when I first saw a generator under the table in NEPA office. It was as if I saw charm on a church alter. For the sake of simple arithmetic ;if PHCN gave 12 hours of light daily, a child born in 1999 must have spent 5 years of his/her life in darkness. This would have been a very generous analysis because it is very illusionary. We pay for all and get nothing. All we get is the fallacy that someday things will get better. Some promises year in, year out.
We can no longer offer hope to the average Nigerian that things are getting better. Hope is good for breakfast but very bad for dinner
If we continue to obstinate, we will never make it in the future. If after wasting away the past we are not committed to a rebuilding process in the present, then I am sorry the hope of innocent Nigerians died yesterday. We can forgive the past, but if we keep stifling the present, certainly we have already murdered the future again. Every today was a yesterday killed and eventually every tomorrow may become a wasted today. The future is gloomy and daily we are confronted with problems that should not have arisen in the first place. From the Niger Delta crises to election riggings. From religious disturbances to strikes in various sectors.
If after wasting away the past we are not committed to a rebuilding process in the present, then I am sorry the hope of innocent Nigerians died yesterday. We can forgive the past, but if we keep stifling the present, certainly we have already murdered the future again. Every today was a yesterday killed and eventually every tomorrow may become a wasted today.
We are a blessed country but as a people we chose to curse ourselves. Or rather our leaders found it profitable to rape us; and afterwards call us harlots. This is a country that yearly budgets, rolling plans, development plans, visions and agenda have been sung and still been sung since flag independence was won in 1960.Yes, flag independence.
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EPITAPH
By WakdokSamuelStephen.
At my funeral
Which of my friends will be there?
How many will leave behind their tight schedule
and travel to pay me last (dis)respects.
I can see some few known faces
Many may be strangers, passers by, church workers, grave diggers, Bus drivers, but all strangers.
Some of my relations will go to the market to sell their perishables
Some of my friends will go for the last stage of those important interviews they have
My school mates will be on vacation after working hard all year round
My colleagues will be posting or calling over or even on marketing calls.
They seemingly sacrificing ones will dare all the distance and tight schedules and risk the bad roads
They will be there.
Yes from my coffin I can see her from that branch
I am seeing him from the other branch
Yes; one of my class mates is here
My supervisor came late but at least he made it at last
Who is that in black dress, or the lady in red?
Please remove your goggles so I can see the tears or is it smiles?
Oh. Wonderful you are man enough and strong, I hate tears.
Will they send a casket for me?
Will they use a new shovel or hire one?
Will it be wet sand or dry sand?
My funeral
Who will make the most beautiful speech?
"He was a nice guy; he was always caring for those in need"
"That was a good boy, very honest and sincere."
"He was a dependable friend."
How many will be sincere to say all the wrong things I said or did?
Who will be bold to say the number of times I erred.
Which lady will be frank to say I broke her heart?
Who can stand in the crowd and say this man was a bad man?
None I guess
All will say in Unison
"There lies a gentleman. The world at large has lost a good heart, a rare gem."
Yet If I was that good why did they let me die? Why did you leave me to die?
If my so called friends had come to my aid when I needed them most, who knows I may still be alive doing all the good things they now say I was good at.
If my allowances and entitlements were paid promptly, I may have lived longer.
If my country had done well for our welfare and security. I will still be working and contributing my quota.
All that I needed to remain alive was a little help from you, a little magnanimity from him. Just a little bit of tenderness from her.
It was cheaper for you to come to my rescue than all you have spent at my burial.
It was easier to walk to my home than the distance you covered to attain my funeral.
It was more beneficial for you to help me live than all the tears you are shedding now which I can't repay.
I am better alive than dead.
But the human nature is complex.
From those cold hearts I now get so much comforting words in my grave.
From those frugal pockets I now get these generous donations to lie in a golden coffin?
Keep your gold if you could not bail me with paper.
Take your incense away from my graveside
Plant no flowers by my tomb when you could have planted more than flowers in my life with a little kindness.
Save me all the stress and save yourself all these distractions.
My Epitaph I will write my self
“Here I am - because no one went a millimeter further to help”.
I hate funeral speeches.
Thank you.
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At my funeral
Which of my friends will be there?
How many will leave behind their tight schedule
and travel to pay me last (dis)respects.
I can see some few known faces
Many may be strangers, passers by, church workers, grave diggers, Bus drivers, but all strangers.
Some of my relations will go to the market to sell their perishables
Some of my friends will go for the last stage of those important interviews they have
My school mates will be on vacation after working hard all year round
My colleagues will be posting or calling over or even on marketing calls.
They seemingly sacrificing ones will dare all the distance and tight schedules and risk the bad roads
They will be there.
Yes from my coffin I can see her from that branch
I am seeing him from the other branch
Yes; one of my class mates is here
My supervisor came late but at least he made it at last
Who is that in black dress, or the lady in red?
Please remove your goggles so I can see the tears or is it smiles?
Oh. Wonderful you are man enough and strong, I hate tears.
Will they send a casket for me?
Will they use a new shovel or hire one?
Will it be wet sand or dry sand?
My funeral
Who will make the most beautiful speech?
"He was a nice guy; he was always caring for those in need"
"That was a good boy, very honest and sincere."
"He was a dependable friend."
How many will be sincere to say all the wrong things I said or did?
Who will be bold to say the number of times I erred.
Which lady will be frank to say I broke her heart?
Who can stand in the crowd and say this man was a bad man?
None I guess
All will say in Unison
"There lies a gentleman. The world at large has lost a good heart, a rare gem."
Yet If I was that good why did they let me die? Why did you leave me to die?
If my so called friends had come to my aid when I needed them most, who knows I may still be alive doing all the good things they now say I was good at.
If my allowances and entitlements were paid promptly, I may have lived longer.
If my country had done well for our welfare and security. I will still be working and contributing my quota.
All that I needed to remain alive was a little help from you, a little magnanimity from him. Just a little bit of tenderness from her.
It was cheaper for you to come to my rescue than all you have spent at my burial.
It was easier to walk to my home than the distance you covered to attain my funeral.
It was more beneficial for you to help me live than all the tears you are shedding now which I can't repay.
I am better alive than dead.
But the human nature is complex.
From those cold hearts I now get so much comforting words in my grave.
From those frugal pockets I now get these generous donations to lie in a golden coffin?
Keep your gold if you could not bail me with paper.
Take your incense away from my graveside
Plant no flowers by my tomb when you could have planted more than flowers in my life with a little kindness.
Save me all the stress and save yourself all these distractions.
My Epitaph I will write my self
“Here I am - because no one went a millimeter further to help”.
I hate funeral speeches.
Thank you.
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NO PARKING
By WakdokSamuelStephen
My fortune is about to change. The various tiers of government in Nigeria have found my artisanship worthy, and I have won the contract to provide a very essential service. My friend when did you become this skilled to be found so special by government? The last time I checked you dropped out of school in your junior secondary school. Yes, though I dropped out years ago, I have finally found the reason to believe I made the right decision. This job I have got will cause me to even hire a Human Resource Consultant to select and recruit more hands across the federation to execute these projects. From Abia to Zamfara not excluding the FCT, Abuja.
I am even at a loss on how to prioritize them. Can I run through some of them in case you can advise me?
Education- No Parking. Electricity-No Thoroughfare. Health care- No Parking. Housing-No Parking. Security -No Parking. Roads-No Thoroughfare. Employment-No Parking. Credible elections-No Thoroughfare. Agriculture and food security-No Thoroughfare. Rural Development-No Thoroughfare. Urban renewal-No parking. Industrialization-No parking. Social Services-No parking. Infrastructural Provisions-No Thoroughfare. Good governance-No Parking. Erosion control-No parking. Economic development-No Thoroughfare. Exports-No Parking.
I understand your enthusiasm my friend. You have a good contract for yourself. But I am scared you have plenty of work on your hands, you will be very exhausted by the time you are done. To provide No Parking signs for hundreds of millions of Nigerians may be very tasking. I won a contract too from the same governments. Mine is just to provide a parking sign for a few chosen Nigerians. And my contract sum is very high. You work hard but I work smart. I can help you if you agree to collaborate with me, but we will share your contract sum and you can then abandon your projects. Once I execute my single project, all your projects are completed.
My contract is to provide a Parking sign. Just one. Corruption-Please Park Here. (Highly reserved for V.I.Ps)
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My fortune is about to change. The various tiers of government in Nigeria have found my artisanship worthy, and I have won the contract to provide a very essential service. My friend when did you become this skilled to be found so special by government? The last time I checked you dropped out of school in your junior secondary school. Yes, though I dropped out years ago, I have finally found the reason to believe I made the right decision. This job I have got will cause me to even hire a Human Resource Consultant to select and recruit more hands across the federation to execute these projects. From Abia to Zamfara not excluding the FCT, Abuja.
I am even at a loss on how to prioritize them. Can I run through some of them in case you can advise me?
Education- No Parking. Electricity-No Thoroughfare. Health care- No Parking. Housing-No Parking. Security -No Parking. Roads-No Thoroughfare. Employment-No Parking. Credible elections-No Thoroughfare. Agriculture and food security-No Thoroughfare. Rural Development-No Thoroughfare. Urban renewal-No parking. Industrialization-No parking. Social Services-No parking. Infrastructural Provisions-No Thoroughfare. Good governance-No Parking. Erosion control-No parking. Economic development-No Thoroughfare. Exports-No Parking.
I understand your enthusiasm my friend. You have a good contract for yourself. But I am scared you have plenty of work on your hands, you will be very exhausted by the time you are done. To provide No Parking signs for hundreds of millions of Nigerians may be very tasking. I won a contract too from the same governments. Mine is just to provide a parking sign for a few chosen Nigerians. And my contract sum is very high. You work hard but I work smart. I can help you if you agree to collaborate with me, but we will share your contract sum and you can then abandon your projects. Once I execute my single project, all your projects are completed.
My contract is to provide a Parking sign. Just one. Corruption-Please Park Here. (Highly reserved for V.I.Ps)
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©
WHERE ARE THE PROPHETS?
BY WakdokSamuelWakdok
Noah, Moses, Samuel, Nathan, Elijah, Elisha, Jeremiah, Isaiah, John de Baptist. Where are the prophets?
We wake up daily to be entertained by various actors in our country; I have severally said Nigeria is an open air theatre. We have drama, ballets, orchestra all going on simultaneously in different places. Recent publication by CBN goes to attest that we have different classifications of Nigerians. We have now seen the lists of corporate debtors who owe banks in billions and multi millions. This class of course has always existed but it is just coming to the fore .Add this latest class of corporate debtors to the long age one of political debtors. Political debtors are the ones who owe the populace to deliver on the mandates given to them through election or appointments. They owe us a lot of transparency and good governance. Just like the banks owe their share holders and customers duty of safety and care on their share holdings and deposits. The political debtors owe us all the duty of transforming Nigeria into a land of prosperity.
I look around and ask; where are the prophets? What I see are people who are horses. The same old horses. They are deeply involved in the conspiracy of the horses. Horses who want to be cows, horses who want to be goats, horses who want to be sheep, horses who want to be pigs. I see horses who want to be dogs, horses who want to be wolves, horses who want to be lions and horses who want to be elephants. What I see are horses who want to be fish, horses who want to be eagles, horses who want to be rats. These horses want to be all and still remain horses, and as such they stop others from been other things. Because they have to be everything, they destroy every other people who stand in their way. They destroy our economy, our polity, our institutions and our sense of dignity. They are destroying our spirit of nationalism.
In the Nigerian ballet, our dance is rather characterized by unconventional steps and ungraceful movements. We are known more for negativity than positive trends. In the Nigerian orchestra, we have a few people who are large enough playing: unclassical" music with their various instruments of stealing, deceits, lies, and plunders. Nigeria is a symphony. Symphony is a complex musical composition, but ours is not a harmonious composition. In fact in the Nigerian sonata, the classical instrument used is the solo instrument of greed. The initiative for greed in Nigeria is very high and the consequence is massive. We are dancing to dangerous melodies. Melodies of robbery and rape. Rhythms of prostitution and destitution, lines of child abuse and violence. Tunes of human traffic and drug trafficking. Nigeria is a symphony of fire and I dare say the fire is burning hot and hotter.
In this open air theatre called Nigeria. A few are on the stage which is shielded. Their shield is both a protection for them and also the trophy they have won in exploiting and degrading us. The rest are on the popular stand and we have been relegated to spectators. We pay so much to gain entrance into the theatre only to be entertained by jokers who have monopolized all to themselves. They are of two folds. Some who seek power and the others who seek money. Power gives them access to everything they want and don't even need through misappropriating public wealth. Money in turn buys them power. So in the end whether they go through economic or political means, they all arrive at the same goal.
Nigeria needs a Noah to build us an ark, we need a Moses to take us out of Egypt, we need a Samuel to oil and proclaim a new king (set of leaders).Nigeria needs a Nathan to tell the leaders that they are taking the wrong path. Nigeria needs an Elijah to call down fire from above and consume all these horses. We need an Elisha to tell them to go and wash their leprosy. Nigeria needs a Jeremiah to say the truth no matter whose ox is gored. We need an Isaiah who will proclaim freedom to the prisoners and good news to those in sorrow.
Rather than having these men of honour, we are faced with dark horses. But I tell you brethren; all hope is not yet lost. If we can not have the prophets of old listed above, it then becomes even more imperative for us the new breed to become the John the Baptist who must herald the new law- change. That is the only way to stop this Symphony of fire from burning and destroying more. That is the only way we can stop our children and our children's children from asking this same question we are asking; where are the prophets?
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©
Noah, Moses, Samuel, Nathan, Elijah, Elisha, Jeremiah, Isaiah, John de Baptist. Where are the prophets?
We wake up daily to be entertained by various actors in our country; I have severally said Nigeria is an open air theatre. We have drama, ballets, orchestra all going on simultaneously in different places. Recent publication by CBN goes to attest that we have different classifications of Nigerians. We have now seen the lists of corporate debtors who owe banks in billions and multi millions. This class of course has always existed but it is just coming to the fore .Add this latest class of corporate debtors to the long age one of political debtors. Political debtors are the ones who owe the populace to deliver on the mandates given to them through election or appointments. They owe us a lot of transparency and good governance. Just like the banks owe their share holders and customers duty of safety and care on their share holdings and deposits. The political debtors owe us all the duty of transforming Nigeria into a land of prosperity.
I look around and ask; where are the prophets? What I see are people who are horses. The same old horses. They are deeply involved in the conspiracy of the horses. Horses who want to be cows, horses who want to be goats, horses who want to be sheep, horses who want to be pigs. I see horses who want to be dogs, horses who want to be wolves, horses who want to be lions and horses who want to be elephants. What I see are horses who want to be fish, horses who want to be eagles, horses who want to be rats. These horses want to be all and still remain horses, and as such they stop others from been other things. Because they have to be everything, they destroy every other people who stand in their way. They destroy our economy, our polity, our institutions and our sense of dignity. They are destroying our spirit of nationalism.
In the Nigerian ballet, our dance is rather characterized by unconventional steps and ungraceful movements. We are known more for negativity than positive trends. In the Nigerian orchestra, we have a few people who are large enough playing: unclassical" music with their various instruments of stealing, deceits, lies, and plunders. Nigeria is a symphony. Symphony is a complex musical composition, but ours is not a harmonious composition. In fact in the Nigerian sonata, the classical instrument used is the solo instrument of greed. The initiative for greed in Nigeria is very high and the consequence is massive. We are dancing to dangerous melodies. Melodies of robbery and rape. Rhythms of prostitution and destitution, lines of child abuse and violence. Tunes of human traffic and drug trafficking. Nigeria is a symphony of fire and I dare say the fire is burning hot and hotter.
In this open air theatre called Nigeria. A few are on the stage which is shielded. Their shield is both a protection for them and also the trophy they have won in exploiting and degrading us. The rest are on the popular stand and we have been relegated to spectators. We pay so much to gain entrance into the theatre only to be entertained by jokers who have monopolized all to themselves. They are of two folds. Some who seek power and the others who seek money. Power gives them access to everything they want and don't even need through misappropriating public wealth. Money in turn buys them power. So in the end whether they go through economic or political means, they all arrive at the same goal.
Nigeria needs a Noah to build us an ark, we need a Moses to take us out of Egypt, we need a Samuel to oil and proclaim a new king (set of leaders).Nigeria needs a Nathan to tell the leaders that they are taking the wrong path. Nigeria needs an Elijah to call down fire from above and consume all these horses. We need an Elisha to tell them to go and wash their leprosy. Nigeria needs a Jeremiah to say the truth no matter whose ox is gored. We need an Isaiah who will proclaim freedom to the prisoners and good news to those in sorrow.
Rather than having these men of honour, we are faced with dark horses. But I tell you brethren; all hope is not yet lost. If we can not have the prophets of old listed above, it then becomes even more imperative for us the new breed to become the John the Baptist who must herald the new law- change. That is the only way to stop this Symphony of fire from burning and destroying more. That is the only way we can stop our children and our children's children from asking this same question we are asking; where are the prophets?
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©
VIATICUM
VIATICUM
By WakdokSamuelStephen
Bless me Holy Father, for I have sinned. This is forty nine years since my baptism. I have come for your papal absolution.
My child, with a cardinal, nine archbishops, several bishops and thousands of priests, did you need to come this far for confession?
Your Holiness, I risked the volatility of my aviation space even when I have no national carrier any more, I didn't want to swim across the murky waters of my militant gulf or dare the trans Saharan route of my Taliban deserts, so I hired a private jet which further depleted my fallen foreign reserves. It is not to say I do not believe in the efficacy of my priests or bishops power to absolve me, but my sins are multitude..
Since my baptism forty nine years ago, I have been married to several men both civilian and military.
I have aborted the dreams of my children through incessant strikes academic and otherwise.
My extra ordinary affairs with Chinese, European and even African industries have resulted in the sad death of my textile industries.
My naira has become a harlot chasing after dollars and pounds and Euros and even CFAs.
My breast milk is nutritiously made of crude oil, uranium, iron, coal, tin, columbites cotton, groundnut, ginger, yam, millet, wheat, and many others but my children are starving because I am not baby friendly.
I cowardly and callously gave out my grand daughter Bakassi into a forced marriage to my neighbour.
The banks of my banks over flow with toxic assets and my money manager cum emir of risk management had to do a mouth to mouth resuscitation.
Kidnapping has become cheaper than pick pocketing in my place.
Many of my children have died under the bridge; many more are still dying under various bridges. Bridge of infrastructural decay, bridge of institutional collapse, bridge of cultural decadence and bridge of religious hooliganism.
The few stronger offspring of mine have become so greedy. They have hijacked my oil wealth. They have also hijacked the ballots and made my other children hostages, and I am helpless.
Every week four hundred of my children queue to India for medical attention and some even brave wars to go to Sudan.
My beautiful girls have been forced to adorn the streets at night and some even dare it at day. The boys have become so brave that the strike at will.
My dams are thirsty themselves so how can my people get water.
I have become so lazy and unproductive that we depend on Malaysia for palm oil, Italy for shoes, China for clothes and many other countries for everything we need.
Holy Father, my sins are so many that I can't remember the others, for these I can recall, I ask pardon from God.
My child, having listened to your confession, I am afraid you need more than an absolution. Absolution is for the living I will give you Viaticum. You need this communion because you are in danger of dying. When and if you survive this danger, then you may come back for absolution.
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By WakdokSamuelStephen
Bless me Holy Father, for I have sinned. This is forty nine years since my baptism. I have come for your papal absolution.
My child, with a cardinal, nine archbishops, several bishops and thousands of priests, did you need to come this far for confession?
Your Holiness, I risked the volatility of my aviation space even when I have no national carrier any more, I didn't want to swim across the murky waters of my militant gulf or dare the trans Saharan route of my Taliban deserts, so I hired a private jet which further depleted my fallen foreign reserves. It is not to say I do not believe in the efficacy of my priests or bishops power to absolve me, but my sins are multitude..
Since my baptism forty nine years ago, I have been married to several men both civilian and military.
I have aborted the dreams of my children through incessant strikes academic and otherwise.
My extra ordinary affairs with Chinese, European and even African industries have resulted in the sad death of my textile industries.
My naira has become a harlot chasing after dollars and pounds and Euros and even CFAs.
My breast milk is nutritiously made of crude oil, uranium, iron, coal, tin, columbites cotton, groundnut, ginger, yam, millet, wheat, and many others but my children are starving because I am not baby friendly.
I cowardly and callously gave out my grand daughter Bakassi into a forced marriage to my neighbour.
The banks of my banks over flow with toxic assets and my money manager cum emir of risk management had to do a mouth to mouth resuscitation.
Kidnapping has become cheaper than pick pocketing in my place.
Many of my children have died under the bridge; many more are still dying under various bridges. Bridge of infrastructural decay, bridge of institutional collapse, bridge of cultural decadence and bridge of religious hooliganism.
The few stronger offspring of mine have become so greedy. They have hijacked my oil wealth. They have also hijacked the ballots and made my other children hostages, and I am helpless.
Every week four hundred of my children queue to India for medical attention and some even brave wars to go to Sudan.
My beautiful girls have been forced to adorn the streets at night and some even dare it at day. The boys have become so brave that the strike at will.
My dams are thirsty themselves so how can my people get water.
I have become so lazy and unproductive that we depend on Malaysia for palm oil, Italy for shoes, China for clothes and many other countries for everything we need.
Holy Father, my sins are so many that I can't remember the others, for these I can recall, I ask pardon from God.
My child, having listened to your confession, I am afraid you need more than an absolution. Absolution is for the living I will give you Viaticum. You need this communion because you are in danger of dying. When and if you survive this danger, then you may come back for absolution.
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