A THANK YOU NOTE TO AN UNLIKELY LOT
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Monday, September 28, 2015
I have on occasion been guilty of one sin: the sin of dismissing every single Nigerian policeman (and policewoman, mind you) as just another member of a thieving, inefficient, ineffective, corrupt lot, whose specialty is harassing motorists as the latter try to negotiate their way through the motley of death-traps on Nigerian roads. I have often held that the only crimes that our police officers have taught themselves to fight are hawking on some streets in Asokoro, riding okada in some parts of Lagos, parking a vehicle "wrongly" in parts of Onitsha.
But today, I woke up to the news that the police had rescued the patriarch of my family friend's home, less than 24 hours after he had been kidnapped from his residence. The kidnappers roughed him up some, but the men and women of the Nigerian Police Force got him out. Alive.
Kudos olopa.
Change is here.
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Listen carefully, all you men of Nigeria. Pay heed to these words, ye ovary-bearers who also bear Nigerian passports. Stealing is now corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You students, you who, when you are given Math, Physics, and Chemistry assignments from your textbooks, first check the answers page for the answer to the question, and then solve the problem working backward from answer to question, that is stealing. Stealing is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You youth corps members and other teachers in secondary schools, you who invite small small JS3 (Basic 9) students to your rooms to teach them how to do their math assignments, and then end up sending your penises on other assignments inside their bodies, be aware that you are stealing the innocence of those children from them. Stealing a child’s innocence is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You adventure-loving lovers, you lovey-dovey honeymooning husband and wife, you chance acquaintances at the local bar who decide to steal a quickie just down the corner because you think no one is looking or that no one is likely to come around while you both are humping away. Stealing a quickie is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You sugar mummies who steal from Babanle for Boy Dandy, you husband who fund your extramarital hornymoons with proceeds stolen from Mama Obi’s purse and ATM, you student whose Physics teacher keeps asking to bring money for two different textbooks - Nelkon and Parker - every term, and then the Nelkon and Parker money just ends up buying your crush a treat each time she gives you your treat, all that is stealing too. Stealing is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You police officers, you who torture people into admitting guilt for offences they never committed, and who thereby steal their lives from them as they waste away in your jail cells. Stealing a man’s life from him is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You pastors, mammy-water chasers, binders-and-casters-in-chief, holy-ghost-fire-operators, you who steal from the poor to enrich yourselves in the name of whatever god of avarice you serve. Stealing from the poor is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You politicians who steal from the rich and the poor not just their money but also their senses and their lives, stealing from the masses is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You goats who love to steal yams away from the yam barn, stealing yams from the barn is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You MTN, you who steal my battery life each time your spam messages and promo phone calls hit my phone, stealing my battery life is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You borrowers of time, books, and money, you who approach your friends and ask if you can borrow some of their time, their books, or their money, and then, having borrowed same, fail to return it, that kind of borrowing is called stealing. Stealing is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You Etisalat, you whose adverts almost all feature unfaithful husbands and promiscuous bachelors, you are stealing from us our reputation for undying faithfulness to our wives and girlfriends and consigning it to the rubbish heap. Stealing a man’s reputation for innate fidelity is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You Kardashianophile, you who see one new mal-nerism displayed by the Kardashians and then steal the made-for-TV concept and use it on the street, stealing from the Kardashians is no way to keep up with the Kardashians. Infact, stealing from the Kardashians is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You lecturers in universities, polytechnics, and wannabe-universities, you who steal money and sex from your students in that unfortunate type of robbery that they call ‘sorting’, sorting is stealing; stealing is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You islamist terrorist, you who steal little girls’ maidenheads rather than wait for your heaven-appointed seven-virgin-reward for infidelicide, that is stealing. Stealing is corruption. The corrupt shall not make heaven, much less touch heavenly virgins with their rotting organs. And yea, back to earth, corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You social media user, you who steal other people’s posts and pictures and pass them off as your own, what you have done is Ctrl+Steal; that is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You lecturer, you who fish out books written in 1908 in places as remote as Stonehenge, take them to a printer, have the covers removed and the book passed off as your own intellectual work, that too is stealing. Stealing is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
You Gospel musicians, Akanchawoid croakers, and stardom-hungry pop musi-wannabe-cians, you who take other people’s songs ancient and recent, remove their lyrics and insert yours, retaining the air, rhythm, and tunes of the original without giving credit to the original artistes, what you do is called stealing. Stealing is corruption. And corruption is an existential threat to the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
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Wednesday, September 09, 2015
This afternoon, I read a Punch article titled “We’ll Never Hang Buhari’s Portrait In Our Offices”. It appears to be a statement credited to Olisa Metuh, the National Publicity Secretary of Nigeria’s opposition Peoples Democratic Party, the PDP. Many lame comments have been attributed to that same man in the wake of the transformation of the PDP from a ruling party to an opposition group - the said transformation of the party status to opposition being the final masterstroke dealt the party by the then Nigerian President Goodluck Ebelemi Jonathan as part of his Transformation Agenda. God bless the end of his godforsaken regime.
I think that most self-respecting men, and perhaps President Buhari would cringe at the very thought of their portrait hanging in any of PDP’s corruption-infested nooks. It is the kind of putrid 11AM thought that makes one retch as he vomits all his breakfast and postpones all further thought of food indefinitely. Few people who appreciate the extent of that party’s rottenness would be proud of an association with anything remotely connected with it, while their level of rot persists.
But … what was that journalist’s own sef? Was this report made for lack of sensational stories to publish? Isn’t that journalist aware that the Chibok girls are yet to be found? That a dollar still exchanges for over two hundred naira? That power, though better, isn’t yet at its best? That we still have no trains? That the refineries are not yet all working at 95% capacity, whether they be domiciled in the plains of the 97% or in the forests and creeks of the 5%?
Some people in this wailing business just have no idea how to do their wailing job. They suck at wailing properly, just like they suck at most things else. Rather than learn to wail properly, they whine and whimper and look to their paymasters for encouragement, for approval, for acknowledgment that they have tried in the discharge of their wailing duties; yesso, for acknowledgment that they have tried.
That kind of mediocrity was the old normal, the status quo that the wailing wailers had come to love and had fought so hard to maintain, the state of progressive deformation they had called the Transformation Agenda. To them, debilitating mediocrity was a goal, a peak to be attained rather than a trough to be avoided.
Thankfully, 15 million other Nigerians thought different. And every hour that goes by, yet another Nigerian gets around to seeing the PDP chiefs for the shining examples of corruption that they really are; yet another Nigerian who doesn’t have to buy petrol for his generator every evening comes to understand that good governance has no creed; yet another Nigerian who is surprised that his local health centre is suddenly dispensing essential drugs begins to appreciate the fact that good governance has no tribe.
Buhari’s picture has no business being in that photo album. His portrait has no business hanging in that decrepit Hall of Shame.
But what do I really know? I’m after all only human.
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