The butts, the bossom, the unbuttoning, the bedding and the sins; I’ve had enough. Summon the ecclesiastics; summon the clerics. Summon all that feed and all that are being fed. Follow me, let me show you the river of time, where collective and separate destinies of Nigerian youths are being washed away. The people that collected this nation from the colonial hands once laughed, yes at the feet of the Lord when they died, but now that even God condoles and consoles them, they refuse to stop crying because they have realized, what they did in 1960 wasn’t an attainment of independence for a country, but putting a cripple in fancy shoes. Go to their graves at night and listen, their cries deafen.
I saw a mother crying and i went over to pacify her, seven days and seven nights passed but she never stopped to cry. You would ask why. Well, the case is that she’s pregnant and feels guilty for she knows that she’s now bringing another innocent soul into our handsome hell. I have met a maiden so beautiful that vehicles crash into one another when she passes by the road. Undress her today, undress her in another three weeks, her panties never change, she’s not dirty, just too poor to have a wardrobe. I have seen a young Nigerian so witty that whenever he speaks, truths so paradoxical, facts so complex and words so magical which fall from his mouth put thinkers at logger-heads, yet, this young man lives below One Hundred and Fifty Naira in a day. If he had been an American, the Republicans would’ve probably make him run for president, but now that he’s a Nigerian, i think he would make a wonderful barbecue at the touch of bomb in Jos, wouldn’t he? Warn him never to go to Borno State.
A neighbour of mine who recently passed away, to my obfuscation willed his property to me, plus a note which read: “God Must Be Sued”. I sank into a chair and craddled my head, what a thought! How come the Bishop left such a daring message? What a man! Well, do you know why he expressed such a thing? I’ll tell you. After three days and three nights of vigorous and rigorous cogitations, i figured it out. I knew what he meant, and i also knew why he meant what he meant. Now listen. In Africa, we, except Egyptians, are black complexioned. Black skin, black beauty, black heritage, the best colour in the world, right? Continue deceiving yourself. How many prophets of God were born black? Adam? No. Noah? No. Abraham? No. Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David, Joseph, Jesus, Mohammed (S.A.W.) and others, none was born black. Shouldn’t God be sued? Witches have nailed many fortunes, politicians have drowned many destinies and Angels still demand for prayers before they can help, indeed, God must be sued. The Whites are so clever that as heavy as aeroplanes are, loaded with hundreds of people, they still found a way to make them fly for hours and here in Nigeria, we cannot make a pencil, this isn’t fair, God must be sued.
My girlfriends, leave me for now. My mother, bless me as i am setting out into the world. The man that taught me how to read, a monarch has killed him. A man that taught me how to write, Boko Haram has burnt him. My friends with skills, dreams, ambitions and strength so marvelous that Nigeria would grow if they replace Jonathan for a year have settled to commercial motorcycling. They’ve ridden in the sun for so long, struggled in the rain so helplessly and their dreams have withered like tulips before a Kano sun, courtesy of poverty; their minds have died, courtesy of hunger. They are champions of old history now. Politically, they are dead men in fancy goggles. May their souls rest in helpless peace.
My friends, don’t look for me in my hometown at all, home is too hostile for now. Bats hang upside down and pretend to be asleep, but no, they’re only seeking to watch every attempt i make towards achieving my life goals so that they can scream to their witch mothers who would never be tired of setting cobwebs to my paths. The trees and the birds all practice espionage on me, like old Indians in old Pakistan. Well, such happened to prophets. What is this country for God’s sake? Witches are out to hurt, ladies are out to rob, men are out to cheat, pastors are out to extort, Alfas are out to curse, traditionalists are out to kidnap people for rituals, insurgents are out to kill, politicians are out to steal, students are out to be dumb, and teachers, they would never stop loading sawdust in our heads.
Block the roads, raze the shops, stone the cops, burn the cars, rob the Banks, murder the moguls, march to Aso, slay the president, flog the Patience; for it not to come to that, you better pray.
Lord eBay, LeScoth.