CredoWriters:Wakdok, Samuel Stephen.
We fight many battles in a war or fight one war on many fronts. We advance and attack, defend when we are attacked. We go into wars with or without reconnaissance and the enemy may be better equipped with more sophistication. Some of our wars are as old as we are or older in some cases than we are. Daily we go into one battle or the other, we win some and loose others, and we are still fighting some. For every time we dislodge the enemy and gain ground we celebrate, for the unfortunate times the enemy forces over run our positions we either withdraw or are caught and held captive; Prisoner of Wars!
We assault and attack, we defend, we withdraw and sometimes we surrender, but the crux is we hardly on our own go on retreats. We either are too confident in pushing our perimeter forward until we go into the desert or snow; or we are too scared by withdrawing from our S-line (positions) at H-hour. Some times we are forced to remain locked in battles with casualties without knowing when we should have retreated to re-launch, to retreat and re-strategize. Even when we are winning on one front, do we replicate our winning formula on all fronts? When our enemies advance against our positions we flee in fright or we are caught napping and unprepared. For the times we are engaged in endless battles , it may be difficult and dangerous to beat a retreat but if only we had earlier on taken a retreat to map out strategies on how to change tactics when the one we are using is not working; like cutting the enemy from the flanks if frontal assault is not effective. An earlier retreat would have helped us to decide when to use a spear head formation or a diamond head formation, when to go on caterpillar movement or leap frogging movement.
Simply put, to retreat is to go back to our trenches and take stock with the aim of improving. It can be a movement away from danger or a period of seclusion away from normal activities devoted to prayer and meditation. For this purpose it is a period of quiet rest and contemplation in a secluded place. Going on retreat enables us to consolidate on our gains and correct or errors. It helps us to eliminate our weaknesses and build on our strengths. When we retreat during life’s battle we will look at the formula making others to succeed and those hampering our own success. It allows us to look at our own superior fire power with the aim of innovating and improving even before we become obsolete. Retreat gives us a break from life’s vicissitudes with the aim of refreshing us mentally and physically to produce better formidable plans and actions.
Life is like war, we win, loose or remain in battle. It is best for us to win, worst for us to loose. As we win one battle we move to another battle until we win or loose the war. Some wars are won after fighting many battles, but some times one crucial battle determines the whole war. Whether we win or loose the war in our lives depends on how well we plan and execute the most significant battles in our life’s war. Most times though we are busy fighting the many battles of life without looking back to see if our methods are effective. A retreat today will assist us to change the course of our war; we may choose to earn salaries or advance to become entrepreneurs in our quest for financial emancipation. We may be loosing on emotional front due to pride or miscommunication and only a retreat will change our pride to humility and open up our communication line. Our spirituality may be a long range war with futile mortar when what we need is to propel a rocket or artillery; this we can only discover when we go on a retreat.
Living on earth with its complexities is like a soldier who though knows the danger of war can not but help to mobilize and meet his enemy at the battle field. He knows the danger of been attacked on his home front. When he meets the enemy at the battle field the best bet is to prepare his escape route even before the bugle is sounded and the worst is to blow his trumpet of victory far away from home; than to be crushed within his walls with no chance for his family to escape.
To know when to advance, attack, or withdraw; even when to surrender the soldier must have first gone on retreat. Retreat helps you avoid a surprise if you can’t win you will know when to withdraw. The best is for you to win, the worst is to reach a truce but not to be defeated out rightly. And that is the only way to make us rediscover ourselves.
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Thursday, October 20, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Do you see anything to smile about?
CredoWriters: Wakdok, Samuel Stephen.
Look at the violence in Jos, Bauchi and Maiduguri; do you see anything to smile about?
What about the spate of bombings, kidnapping and general insecurity in the country, is there anything to smile about?
Ask those who eat hunger and wear nakedness, do you think they will have anything to smile about?
Look at the increasing rate of graduate employment, imagine the non-graduates’ fate. Look at the numbers involved in child labour and slavery; do you see anything to smile about?
What about the incessant labour strike and fuel scarcity/price hike? Diesel and kerosene have soared beyond the reach of small scale businesses the masses, how can there be anything to smile about?
Look at the conditions of our refineries, textiles, agriculture and industries; what do you see to smile about?
Can you calculate the elasticity of corruption in Nigeria and truly tell the President we have news to smile about?
What about the murders, unresolved assassinations, robberies and frauds, mass illiteracy and wanton destruction of lives and properties?
How about the religious crises in the North, militancy in the South, Ritual killings in the East, Thuggery in the West and cut neck rents in Abuja. Is there anything to smile about?
Look at the plight of our citizenry and the living conditions of our people. Look at Benin-Ore-Lagos Express way, Ilorin-Jebba-Mokwa road, and other roads in the country, the sorry state of our power sector draining billions of dollars with little result, the insensitive public holders, the unrepentant corrupt civil servants, and the porous nature of our land and sea borders, do you see anything to smile about?
How about the decay in our educational sector? The collapse of public education and the mercantilism in the private education. Tell me the condition of our health care facilities, the failure of an efficient transport system and the slums called homes, what is there to smile about?
Look at the subversion of the state, the monster called terrorism, the evil called nepotism and the menace of exploitation. Look at the condition of our police stations and the caliber of our security agencies, what is there to smile about?
Look at food security or is it insecurity, the bastardization of our budget implementation and the ineffectiveness of project implementations, do you see anything to smile about?
We can’t sleep peacefully at home, walk fearlessly on the streets, work without fear at our offices and travel safely on the road?
What really is our heritage if we can’t find anything to smile about?
Look at the violence in Jos, Bauchi and Maiduguri; do you see anything to smile about?
What about the spate of bombings, kidnapping and general insecurity in the country, is there anything to smile about?
Ask those who eat hunger and wear nakedness, do you think they will have anything to smile about?
Look at the increasing rate of graduate employment, imagine the non-graduates’ fate. Look at the numbers involved in child labour and slavery; do you see anything to smile about?
What about the incessant labour strike and fuel scarcity/price hike? Diesel and kerosene have soared beyond the reach of small scale businesses the masses, how can there be anything to smile about?
Look at the conditions of our refineries, textiles, agriculture and industries; what do you see to smile about?
Can you calculate the elasticity of corruption in Nigeria and truly tell the President we have news to smile about?
What about the murders, unresolved assassinations, robberies and frauds, mass illiteracy and wanton destruction of lives and properties?
How about the religious crises in the North, militancy in the South, Ritual killings in the East, Thuggery in the West and cut neck rents in Abuja. Is there anything to smile about?
Look at the plight of our citizenry and the living conditions of our people. Look at Benin-Ore-Lagos Express way, Ilorin-Jebba-Mokwa road, and other roads in the country, the sorry state of our power sector draining billions of dollars with little result, the insensitive public holders, the unrepentant corrupt civil servants, and the porous nature of our land and sea borders, do you see anything to smile about?
How about the decay in our educational sector? The collapse of public education and the mercantilism in the private education. Tell me the condition of our health care facilities, the failure of an efficient transport system and the slums called homes, what is there to smile about?
Look at the subversion of the state, the monster called terrorism, the evil called nepotism and the menace of exploitation. Look at the condition of our police stations and the caliber of our security agencies, what is there to smile about?
Look at food security or is it insecurity, the bastardization of our budget implementation and the ineffectiveness of project implementations, do you see anything to smile about?
We can’t sleep peacefully at home, walk fearlessly on the streets, work without fear at our offices and travel safely on the road?
What really is our heritage if we can’t find anything to smile about?
THE DEAD ALSO SING
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen
THE DEAD ALSO SING
Blood in the community's eyes
this time again
why the wailing?
At the sound of the cathedral bells
Last night
the moon hid in shame
as humans were robbed
by "tiny" of their immunity.
How the priest will eulogize
at this requiem?
It's a shame that the sun had to run away
like a coward, never heard of that.
For man only to go and find succour
his wife couldn't provide
he swam between another's thighs,
and for himself won "tiny"
The lady, ever untired
of Adam's sons playing soccer in her pitch.
"tiny" refused going home after the league.
And so, Africa our beloved
this day is drained.
Strong sons cum daughters
reduced to vegetables
rotting little at a time
pending when the gardener weeds them away.
For "tiny" has sworn
'Am too strong to be killed'
rather man's immunity it kills
What an irony
back to the cathedral where once their heads were dipped at baptism in water
are brought back this time; for last rites.
The founders of this cathedral who we, they warned
to neither adulterate nor fornicate
exported to us, "tiny"
the very product of their immorality.
Where then our salvation lies Africa?
If only we were self sufficient, that everything from them we imported.
Not satisfied, we have imported "tiny de HIV"
Everlasting balance of trade deficit.
Who the soil would till?
who for us the woods pick?
of hunger our cattle would die?
the aged and the infants no one is spared?
From a distant land
a song
a land no one returns
not even with lion's majesty
no one returns from
This song is heard;
Let Africa with ears to the ground
Listen and again listen well or her map, away be wiped
THE DEAD ALSO SING
Blood in the community's eyes
this time again
why the wailing?
At the sound of the cathedral bells
Last night
the moon hid in shame
as humans were robbed
by "tiny" of their immunity.
How the priest will eulogize
at this requiem?
It's a shame that the sun had to run away
like a coward, never heard of that.
For man only to go and find succour
his wife couldn't provide
he swam between another's thighs,
and for himself won "tiny"
The lady, ever untired
of Adam's sons playing soccer in her pitch.
"tiny" refused going home after the league.
And so, Africa our beloved
this day is drained.
Strong sons cum daughters
reduced to vegetables
rotting little at a time
pending when the gardener weeds them away.
For "tiny" has sworn
'Am too strong to be killed'
rather man's immunity it kills
What an irony
back to the cathedral where once their heads were dipped at baptism in water
are brought back this time; for last rites.
The founders of this cathedral who we, they warned
to neither adulterate nor fornicate
exported to us, "tiny"
the very product of their immorality.
Where then our salvation lies Africa?
If only we were self sufficient, that everything from them we imported.
Not satisfied, we have imported "tiny de HIV"
Everlasting balance of trade deficit.
Who the soil would till?
who for us the woods pick?
of hunger our cattle would die?
the aged and the infants no one is spared?
From a distant land
a song
a land no one returns
not even with lion's majesty
no one returns from
This song is heard;
Let Africa with ears to the ground
Listen and again listen well or her map, away be wiped
Miss Brown
CredoPoets: Wakdok,Samuel Stephen
For a quiver full of
Arrows
I bare my chest as a stone.
Pierce my heart
For life without your seductive love
Is sin without temptation.
You are now as rude as a bear,
Since I have turned as ugly as sin.
If I am as silly as a goose
I have made you more bitter than gall.
You, who was sweeter than honey,
Once supple as swan.
Now is like vinegar. Sour!
I beg for a beam of light
From once your graceful face.
Even a crust of bread
Holds more value to you.
Like a troop of lion will pounce on a lamb.
I stand unarmed at your anger,
For a quiver full of arrows
My heart as weak as water.
For life without you
Is a gust of wind
A hail of fire
Life without your love
Is sin without temptation.
Vain.
For a quiver full of
Arrows
I bare my chest as a stone.
Pierce my heart
For life without your seductive love
Is sin without temptation.
You are now as rude as a bear,
Since I have turned as ugly as sin.
If I am as silly as a goose
I have made you more bitter than gall.
You, who was sweeter than honey,
Once supple as swan.
Now is like vinegar. Sour!
I beg for a beam of light
From once your graceful face.
Even a crust of bread
Holds more value to you.
Like a troop of lion will pounce on a lamb.
I stand unarmed at your anger,
For a quiver full of arrows
My heart as weak as water.
For life without you
Is a gust of wind
A hail of fire
Life without your love
Is sin without temptation.
Vain.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
LOVE POEMS
THE WOMEN IN MY LIFE
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
I love you forever / that was the introductory postulation/in her essay to me
Words so softly spoken/ message deeply passed/ meaning which brings nostalgia
I love you forever/ when I walked through the door/ I expected her to run after me.
She is calm and calm she remained
You lied to me she yelped/ you said you loved me but you lied
Fight for me if you love me, I barked
No, I won't fight for you she echoed/ Because you will always be mine
I won't fight for you she retorted/ I will instead die for you she wrapped up
You Are my Best
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
Dust and rust and even cobweb/ you brought your brush and sponge and broom/ and I am immaculate again
I am pristine and lively again
My crooked hands you straightened
my broken heart you darned
my trust you resuscitated
You reboot my heart
and make me whole again
you kick start my smiles and make me alive
you are my Best
The Poet's Heaven
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
You give life to my passion and soul to my love.
Your manicured fingers travel the circumference of my body spreading flames only your tongue can quench.
You give waves to my emotion.
The sensation of your naive body taste like a supper of lamb.
Tender, sweet and undefiled.
What a crystal oasis of erotic magnet.
Draped in form so sensual and viscious.
You Sensualise my Being
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
I long to sleep even when I wake at day
Because I want to be with you in my dreams
I want to play my guitar on your nipples and sing your love
At night when I ought to sleep I wake all night
Thinking of you and how you hold me captive
My brains and my heart and my loins think of you alone and your sweetness.
I see you in the surface of the water when I bath
I hear you in the sound of my car engine
I talk to you on my car stereo
I listen to you from the breeze the trees blow.
Love has come our away
Now that the love has rekindled
What are we going to do with our love?
You sensualise my being
TRADEMARK
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
She wants a poem I offer passion to make her heart beat
She blows a kiss I send flowers to make her life more beautiful
She sends a smile I transport watts of funk to make her life joyful
Then her eyes looked me still and my lips found hers
I locked her eyes in mine and let my lips feel hers
I allow my hands to go from the crown of her hair to the sole of her feet
I explore the beauty she is and comb the paradise she always is
I savour the sensation of her body and dwell on the beauty of her mind
My lips take over from her my hands, and then the two work in tandem
My lips, my fingers, then my lips and my fingers.
I feel her softness then press into her sweetness
I peep into her softness and devour her sensuousness.
I see the beauty I always dream of; and also feel the love that is beautiful
I touch the bosom that makes me warm, and then warm the bosom I love.
In my ear the drums of her laughter sound so loud and near
She is happy and I want her happiness to grow
I make her come close to my body, and closer in my heart
I want to make her feel loved and loved till she bid the cosmos farewell
I will be on the other side loving her as I do now
She wants a poem but gets the sweetest love of her life
She blows a kiss and I kiss the breath off her lungs until she breathes me.
She is sensational and full of rage
The rage to love and be loved is her trademark
Sweet Fire
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
I have soaked my self in fuel and drenched my feelings in coal.
My lips are on fire for you, come Mr. Fire Fighter and quench my fire.
You have to go beyond my toungue because the fire is spreading faster to my throat.
Oh Kiss me deeper and rescue me from this fire I have set myself on.
Let your extinguisher speed pass the walls of my throat and the cups of my breast.
Hurry up before the fire burns up the linen and eats me up.
I set myself on fire for you and you must not let me burn to ashes.
The fire is all over me, Mr. Fire fighter do you want me to die a girl?
Come right inside of me and put out this fire for the fire is deep inside of me.
This is no ordinary fire and not just anyone can put out this fire,
I set this fire for you
Hurry, come put out this fire.
Oh Sweet Fire!
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
I love you forever / that was the introductory postulation/in her essay to me
Words so softly spoken/ message deeply passed/ meaning which brings nostalgia
I love you forever/ when I walked through the door/ I expected her to run after me.
She is calm and calm she remained
You lied to me she yelped/ you said you loved me but you lied
Fight for me if you love me, I barked
No, I won't fight for you she echoed/ Because you will always be mine
I won't fight for you she retorted/ I will instead die for you she wrapped up
You Are my Best
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
Dust and rust and even cobweb/ you brought your brush and sponge and broom/ and I am immaculate again
I am pristine and lively again
My crooked hands you straightened
my broken heart you darned
my trust you resuscitated
You reboot my heart
and make me whole again
you kick start my smiles and make me alive
you are my Best
The Poet's Heaven
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
You give life to my passion and soul to my love.
Your manicured fingers travel the circumference of my body spreading flames only your tongue can quench.
You give waves to my emotion.
The sensation of your naive body taste like a supper of lamb.
Tender, sweet and undefiled.
What a crystal oasis of erotic magnet.
Draped in form so sensual and viscious.
You Sensualise my Being
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
I long to sleep even when I wake at day
Because I want to be with you in my dreams
I want to play my guitar on your nipples and sing your love
At night when I ought to sleep I wake all night
Thinking of you and how you hold me captive
My brains and my heart and my loins think of you alone and your sweetness.
I see you in the surface of the water when I bath
I hear you in the sound of my car engine
I talk to you on my car stereo
I listen to you from the breeze the trees blow.
Love has come our away
Now that the love has rekindled
What are we going to do with our love?
You sensualise my being
TRADEMARK
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
She wants a poem I offer passion to make her heart beat
She blows a kiss I send flowers to make her life more beautiful
She sends a smile I transport watts of funk to make her life joyful
Then her eyes looked me still and my lips found hers
I locked her eyes in mine and let my lips feel hers
I allow my hands to go from the crown of her hair to the sole of her feet
I explore the beauty she is and comb the paradise she always is
I savour the sensation of her body and dwell on the beauty of her mind
My lips take over from her my hands, and then the two work in tandem
My lips, my fingers, then my lips and my fingers.
I feel her softness then press into her sweetness
I peep into her softness and devour her sensuousness.
I see the beauty I always dream of; and also feel the love that is beautiful
I touch the bosom that makes me warm, and then warm the bosom I love.
In my ear the drums of her laughter sound so loud and near
She is happy and I want her happiness to grow
I make her come close to my body, and closer in my heart
I want to make her feel loved and loved till she bid the cosmos farewell
I will be on the other side loving her as I do now
She wants a poem but gets the sweetest love of her life
She blows a kiss and I kiss the breath off her lungs until she breathes me.
She is sensational and full of rage
The rage to love and be loved is her trademark
Sweet Fire
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
I have soaked my self in fuel and drenched my feelings in coal.
My lips are on fire for you, come Mr. Fire Fighter and quench my fire.
You have to go beyond my toungue because the fire is spreading faster to my throat.
Oh Kiss me deeper and rescue me from this fire I have set myself on.
Let your extinguisher speed pass the walls of my throat and the cups of my breast.
Hurry up before the fire burns up the linen and eats me up.
I set myself on fire for you and you must not let me burn to ashes.
The fire is all over me, Mr. Fire fighter do you want me to die a girl?
Come right inside of me and put out this fire for the fire is deep inside of me.
This is no ordinary fire and not just anyone can put out this fire,
I set this fire for you
Hurry, come put out this fire.
Oh Sweet Fire!
I CALL YOUR NAME IN MY HEART
CredoPoets:Wakdok,Samuel Stephen.
My lips still long to
Kiss the freshness of your breath
This draws its fountain from the sweetness of your soul
My lips find solace in you.
My eyes still quest for your
Seduction, which confines my liberty
Into a verve of your love
I am insatiable!
Starved of your desire
If I am your lover it is not become I am a poet
If I am a poet, it is because I am first your lover.
Your love makes temptation delightful
Your lust only makes infidelity gorgeous
I once sewed my heart to the gown of your bosomy
Your bosom is your heart to me
Your heart is your bosom to me
They both are my dwelling and glee
They are my abode and my contentment; one and same to me.
I chose the dangerous flame of infatuation to
Explore the fathomlessness of your love
I love; lust, then I love you again and again
Now that the thread which sews my heart and yearnings
To yours, is left hanging on the lintel of my lonely window
My lips still long to kiss your sweetness, presented in the
Freshness of your breath
If I loved another’s beloved
It is not because I am a philanderer
It is because that another’s beloved is you.
You make temptation delightful.
My lips still long to
Kiss the freshness of your breath
This draws its fountain from the sweetness of your soul
My lips find solace in you.
My eyes still quest for your
Seduction, which confines my liberty
Into a verve of your love
I am insatiable!
Starved of your desire
If I am your lover it is not become I am a poet
If I am a poet, it is because I am first your lover.
Your love makes temptation delightful
Your lust only makes infidelity gorgeous
I once sewed my heart to the gown of your bosomy
Your bosom is your heart to me
Your heart is your bosom to me
They both are my dwelling and glee
They are my abode and my contentment; one and same to me.
I chose the dangerous flame of infatuation to
Explore the fathomlessness of your love
I love; lust, then I love you again and again
Now that the thread which sews my heart and yearnings
To yours, is left hanging on the lintel of my lonely window
My lips still long to kiss your sweetness, presented in the
Freshness of your breath
If I loved another’s beloved
It is not because I am a philanderer
It is because that another’s beloved is you.
You make temptation delightful.
“51 YEARS OF INDEPENDENCE; OF DRUMS OR FUNERALS?”
CredoWriters: Wakdok, Samuel Stephen.
The boy's funeral has been arranged while he is still alive. The Girl's funeral is been deliberated before she gets the chance to consummate her wedding. The baby is just entering the world and no one is sure if its funeral will not outlive the few days of its existence. The men and women know that they must watch as their funeral is organized. No one knows when, it may be sooner than rumoured, it could be now and it can take a while but something is certain; there is a funeral in the offing. That is so sad! Ordinarily no one is happy at a funeral except witches and wizards but ironically in this situation the victims are not only helpless but some are culpable.
The funeral started when he went to school and could not pass his exams because the schools are either under funded or the teachers are not qualified. Money meant for education is diverted by selfish government officials and their assistants. Now the students have seen the futility in reading hard because hard work is tantamount to failure, it is easier to cheat and pass. Even when you read you will not pass, that is the curriculum we have these days. The government itself is not only confused but maliciously wicked. They toy from UPE to UBE; they do not know whether to use 6-3-3-4 or 9-3-4 and some cases they tinker with 6-5-4. They sold the government schools and paralyzed the Unity schools they couldn't sell. They starve the public universities with funds and establish their own private universities. No country in this world has an ex President as the owner of a private university. In Nigeria an Ex President whose tenure witnessed some of the most protracted industrial actions in the Ivory towers owns a private university; his vice owns an American University . All those who went to free government schools are the ones insisting students must pay tuition, those who studied on government scholarships have returned and removed the ladder so that others can’t climb. Rather they have acquired fraudulent wealth to send their children abroad and have reserved special employments for their offspring even unborn.
Her funeral started immediately she walked in to the medical centre that looked like a garage. Packed with dusts and outdated instruments, she can not even deliver safely in a tertiary hospital not to talk of a primary health care centre. Yet those who claim to serve her interest run abroad for head ache and even bottom ache. A sitting Vice President who was campaigning to become the President strained his leg and was rushed abroad for treatment. He came back on clutches and was received at the airport like a man who has won an Olympic gold medal.
Their funerals began when the security agents failed to curb the web of violence. Their houses were razed down in Jos and bombs thrown at them in Maiduguri , Suleja and Abuja . They were killed in Bauchi, kaduna , Katsina for an election that now holds no promise for the future; they died in vain while those who they died for live in vanity of opulence. They are kidnapped in the East and South and ransome demanded; some are used for rituals even in the West and North. The Police who should protect them had their headquarters bombed in broad day light, so they people may as well run to the gangs for help. The National security adviser said verbatim that they were not prepared to fight terrorism, if that was a true confession the shocker came when he said they couldn’t prepare for a situation they did not have. But couldn’t they have envisaged it? What is planning if not against the future whether good or bad? When in 2001 terrorism took a central stage in global affairs, Nigeria opted out of the world if not why will the security arm see no need in preparing for what was spreading like wild fire, despite of the vulnerability of our location, population and composition.
The economy has been on life support, we know that soonest unless by miracle we will march at our own funeral. They read out nominal growth figures while we count real decline. They read out politics of numbers while we see the sociology of underdevelopment. Poverty used to stare at us from a far, scared that she will be eradicated or even alleviated; suddenly poverty pokes at us in the eyes and even puts her dirty fingers in our nostrils. There are many funerals to go round and I am sure we have the need to hire more people to meet up the demand for our funerals.
For sure black out will not have a funeral despite all the billions spent in over hauling the power sector; instead darkness will be the special guest of honour at the funeral of a people who ordinarily should have sent power failure to its grave. They want to increase power tariff by 50-100%, which is paying more for darkness. Now they are proposing a 200% increase for the cost of fuel from N65 to N200 in the name of deregulation. They are tired of subsidizing the cost of fuel but never tired of subsidizing corruption, for it is corruption that has prevented our refineries from working or we building new ones. Therefore all of us, our funeral commenced when we adopted corruption as the official language of government. It is our bane and as Simon Kolawole succinctly puts it; “we have the whole sale and retail corruption”. Whole sale corruption is for the big boys and big wigs and mega politicians, which we the smaller fish buy in retail measures from. The Big man collects the money and doesn’t execute the job, the medium man smiles when his is greased by the big man and also demands returns from the small man; then the small man who is into the retail corruption expects favours from the big man who he knows is profiteering even when he has not done any work to deserve a reward.
Government money in Nigeria is not only tempting but alluring. When people leave their foreign jobs, or their professional fields to accept government posts, it is not always for selflessness but because government fund in Nigeria is a sinking fund that will never be audited nor accounted for. It is not out of the butcher’s benevolence that we eat meat for dinner; it is called harmony of interest. Corruption in the police is the omen for indiscipline and indiscipline is what reinvigorates corruption. So the two reinforce themselves and have led the police to its impending funeral. A corporal has the audacity to tell the ASP that he has eaten N2, 000 out of the money he was due to remit, money of course from extortion. The Sergeant negotiates with the DSP that he can only afford to return N15, 000 weekly when the former asks for N30, 000 and they arrive at N20, 000. How can such men take orders from their superiors? Is anyone therefore surprised that the police can not effectively tackle crime?
The civil servants are no more servants, they are “uncivil lords” they descend on public funds with such an impudence that will make any one shudder. They steal out rightly from the treasure, or demand instant bribes, or inflate contracts, or divert budget allocations, or sell government privilege. 50 years of budgeting has not prevented this imminent funeral, because monies meant for education are found at people’s homes, monies meant for roads and other infrastructure are routed to people’s pockets, monies meant for security are secured in offshore accounts, monies meant for development have only made the few cabal richer at the expense of the citizens.
Now we live with freedom from unpleasant consequences and may die because of insecurity. The jobs are gone, those working are poorer, and to be entrepreneurial is a very Herculean task. They have set up an early committee to drop a bundle on the country’s 100 years of nationhood, but it takes almost half of the year for our budget to be passed, and hardly any early preparation for sectoral projects in education, health, or social amenities. We should rename nationhood to “nationwood”, because now more than ever the nation is in a bed of nails. Is Nigeria really a nation or a country of nationalities? Do we have drums to beat or funerals to mourn? Do we celebrate mass murder, rape, economic mismanagement, political brigandage, or a nation which we were told is on the brink and we denied.
We claim to bring peace to war torn nations but our nation is in a dearth of peace. We are talking of independence, it is not just enough to be independent from colonial rule when we are not independent from the woes that sweep across our land like a flying vulture. If anything, the people have always bore the brunt of a lapse from grace on the part of our leadership and government. My friend said that in Nigeria they campaign in poetry and rule in prose and I concur. For when a politician promises to build a bridge where there is no river, that is poetry; and when the electorates can not have a bridge to cross a real river that is prose. While they loot in billions and jeopardize the lives of millions in poetry, people are suffering and dying in prose. 51 years of independence where are the drums to celebrate? They have stolen everything and even the drums, meaning they have stolen the people’s happiness too.
After 51 years of independence and 97 years of existence Nigeria ought to have a place in the sun unfortunately the country is just like a pig in a poke due to failure of leadership and crass irresponsibility from the citizens. They had no shoes; now they own not only shoes but shoe companies while we are in need of feet. The best thing we can do as a people is to avert the funeral of this nation by any means possible and recover our drums of jubilation.
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The boy's funeral has been arranged while he is still alive. The Girl's funeral is been deliberated before she gets the chance to consummate her wedding. The baby is just entering the world and no one is sure if its funeral will not outlive the few days of its existence. The men and women know that they must watch as their funeral is organized. No one knows when, it may be sooner than rumoured, it could be now and it can take a while but something is certain; there is a funeral in the offing. That is so sad! Ordinarily no one is happy at a funeral except witches and wizards but ironically in this situation the victims are not only helpless but some are culpable.
The funeral started when he went to school and could not pass his exams because the schools are either under funded or the teachers are not qualified. Money meant for education is diverted by selfish government officials and their assistants. Now the students have seen the futility in reading hard because hard work is tantamount to failure, it is easier to cheat and pass. Even when you read you will not pass, that is the curriculum we have these days. The government itself is not only confused but maliciously wicked. They toy from UPE to UBE; they do not know whether to use 6-3-3-4 or 9-3-4 and some cases they tinker with 6-5-4. They sold the government schools and paralyzed the Unity schools they couldn't sell. They starve the public universities with funds and establish their own private universities. No country in this world has an ex President as the owner of a private university. In Nigeria an Ex President whose tenure witnessed some of the most protracted industrial actions in the Ivory towers owns a private university; his vice owns an American University . All those who went to free government schools are the ones insisting students must pay tuition, those who studied on government scholarships have returned and removed the ladder so that others can’t climb. Rather they have acquired fraudulent wealth to send their children abroad and have reserved special employments for their offspring even unborn.
Her funeral started immediately she walked in to the medical centre that looked like a garage. Packed with dusts and outdated instruments, she can not even deliver safely in a tertiary hospital not to talk of a primary health care centre. Yet those who claim to serve her interest run abroad for head ache and even bottom ache. A sitting Vice President who was campaigning to become the President strained his leg and was rushed abroad for treatment. He came back on clutches and was received at the airport like a man who has won an Olympic gold medal.
Their funerals began when the security agents failed to curb the web of violence. Their houses were razed down in Jos and bombs thrown at them in Maiduguri , Suleja and Abuja . They were killed in Bauchi, kaduna , Katsina for an election that now holds no promise for the future; they died in vain while those who they died for live in vanity of opulence. They are kidnapped in the East and South and ransome demanded; some are used for rituals even in the West and North. The Police who should protect them had their headquarters bombed in broad day light, so they people may as well run to the gangs for help. The National security adviser said verbatim that they were not prepared to fight terrorism, if that was a true confession the shocker came when he said they couldn’t prepare for a situation they did not have. But couldn’t they have envisaged it? What is planning if not against the future whether good or bad? When in 2001 terrorism took a central stage in global affairs, Nigeria opted out of the world if not why will the security arm see no need in preparing for what was spreading like wild fire, despite of the vulnerability of our location, population and composition.
The economy has been on life support, we know that soonest unless by miracle we will march at our own funeral. They read out nominal growth figures while we count real decline. They read out politics of numbers while we see the sociology of underdevelopment. Poverty used to stare at us from a far, scared that she will be eradicated or even alleviated; suddenly poverty pokes at us in the eyes and even puts her dirty fingers in our nostrils. There are many funerals to go round and I am sure we have the need to hire more people to meet up the demand for our funerals.
For sure black out will not have a funeral despite all the billions spent in over hauling the power sector; instead darkness will be the special guest of honour at the funeral of a people who ordinarily should have sent power failure to its grave. They want to increase power tariff by 50-100%, which is paying more for darkness. Now they are proposing a 200% increase for the cost of fuel from N65 to N200 in the name of deregulation. They are tired of subsidizing the cost of fuel but never tired of subsidizing corruption, for it is corruption that has prevented our refineries from working or we building new ones. Therefore all of us, our funeral commenced when we adopted corruption as the official language of government. It is our bane and as Simon Kolawole succinctly puts it; “we have the whole sale and retail corruption”. Whole sale corruption is for the big boys and big wigs and mega politicians, which we the smaller fish buy in retail measures from. The Big man collects the money and doesn’t execute the job, the medium man smiles when his is greased by the big man and also demands returns from the small man; then the small man who is into the retail corruption expects favours from the big man who he knows is profiteering even when he has not done any work to deserve a reward.
Government money in Nigeria is not only tempting but alluring. When people leave their foreign jobs, or their professional fields to accept government posts, it is not always for selflessness but because government fund in Nigeria is a sinking fund that will never be audited nor accounted for. It is not out of the butcher’s benevolence that we eat meat for dinner; it is called harmony of interest. Corruption in the police is the omen for indiscipline and indiscipline is what reinvigorates corruption. So the two reinforce themselves and have led the police to its impending funeral. A corporal has the audacity to tell the ASP that he has eaten N2, 000 out of the money he was due to remit, money of course from extortion. The Sergeant negotiates with the DSP that he can only afford to return N15, 000 weekly when the former asks for N30, 000 and they arrive at N20, 000. How can such men take orders from their superiors? Is anyone therefore surprised that the police can not effectively tackle crime?
The civil servants are no more servants, they are “uncivil lords” they descend on public funds with such an impudence that will make any one shudder. They steal out rightly from the treasure, or demand instant bribes, or inflate contracts, or divert budget allocations, or sell government privilege. 50 years of budgeting has not prevented this imminent funeral, because monies meant for education are found at people’s homes, monies meant for roads and other infrastructure are routed to people’s pockets, monies meant for security are secured in offshore accounts, monies meant for development have only made the few cabal richer at the expense of the citizens.
Now we live with freedom from unpleasant consequences and may die because of insecurity. The jobs are gone, those working are poorer, and to be entrepreneurial is a very Herculean task. They have set up an early committee to drop a bundle on the country’s 100 years of nationhood, but it takes almost half of the year for our budget to be passed, and hardly any early preparation for sectoral projects in education, health, or social amenities. We should rename nationhood to “nationwood”, because now more than ever the nation is in a bed of nails. Is Nigeria really a nation or a country of nationalities? Do we have drums to beat or funerals to mourn? Do we celebrate mass murder, rape, economic mismanagement, political brigandage, or a nation which we were told is on the brink and we denied.
We claim to bring peace to war torn nations but our nation is in a dearth of peace. We are talking of independence, it is not just enough to be independent from colonial rule when we are not independent from the woes that sweep across our land like a flying vulture. If anything, the people have always bore the brunt of a lapse from grace on the part of our leadership and government. My friend said that in Nigeria they campaign in poetry and rule in prose and I concur. For when a politician promises to build a bridge where there is no river, that is poetry; and when the electorates can not have a bridge to cross a real river that is prose. While they loot in billions and jeopardize the lives of millions in poetry, people are suffering and dying in prose. 51 years of independence where are the drums to celebrate? They have stolen everything and even the drums, meaning they have stolen the people’s happiness too.
After 51 years of independence and 97 years of existence Nigeria ought to have a place in the sun unfortunately the country is just like a pig in a poke due to failure of leadership and crass irresponsibility from the citizens. They had no shoes; now they own not only shoes but shoe companies while we are in need of feet. The best thing we can do as a people is to avert the funeral of this nation by any means possible and recover our drums of jubilation.
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