Nigeria (a woman with nappy around her waist) has had an analogous case of a proverbial fowl that perches on a robe, the robe is restless, the fowl is restless. Nigeria has had an history to which instead of learning from is trapped by. Nigeria in the past and present has been an abattoir of its citizens for butchers like the insurgents, ritualists, bad construction companies, poverty promoters, corrupt citizenry, those who need abattis of the few saints and the truth et cetera. This nation wallows in the quagmire mire of stagnancy. Its oil boom has chameleoned to doom. There are proliferations of worship centres but no panacea to the age-long predicament of the nation. Instead it seems they fed it elixirs. We coat rusty irons into our government positions and brand them new. The youths are redundant and were being fashioned into devil’s workshop and worktools. Old gluttonous grey beards parade the Nigerian corridor of power. Yet we clamour for change. Our fingers are crossed and our bellies are adapting to the current economic downturn of this Jungle. We still have faith in the current Mr. President for just twain years. When the time expires, then, We will  know how to grade him, We will know if We should serve him the meals which I served the previous regimes. Twain years for the burden of change is not easy to bear. Japan, China and otherother Asian Tiger’s inspiring history took years to be written in fine ink. Rome too was not built in a day. No matter the decade this is going to take for the seed of change to sprout, We are not tired of waiting, only if the future is not foggy and pessimistic.
                     The road is clear, the road is known. But the destiny of a lost dog starts with its deafness to the hunter’s whistle. The truth is alive but buried by the silence of its bearers. Question: Who will resuscitate it with resilience? Though the truth will speak for itself maybe when it delay its coming till after the death of its benefactor. Nobody wants to die but, wants Paradise’s goodies.To this effect, Shakespeare states that death is  a necessary end. All religious books supported the fact that death is a necessary end. J.P Clark repeated it in his verse “Casualties” that heros die once but cowards die many times before their death. We have been escaping battles, and living to fight another and even another. Where are the veers and valiants! Where are the men of valor! The earth has drunk blood already, don’t be afraid to feed it more if the embodiment of the blood is an hurdle on the path of change. Let our feet stamp the dust once. Let our voice echoe once. Let us expand our coast, let our economy wear garments of diverse colours. Feed earth its food, and she will bless you in return. Leave her milk alone, for you bled her blood not milk. It is not an oil boom but an oil doom. The elders’ wealth of experience and the children’s tact made Ifè. Open the door of the nucleus of governance to the youths. Wash the sword of its dusty abandonment, blind her so that when it swings, it knows no emotions. Let us learn from history and not be trapped by it. Let history paint our portraits under the caption of victor not the caricature of us being victims. Teach each child virtue, don’t set fire under your bushel. Let the adults live by example. Let our eyes in the vault of power serve without being seduced by the alluring witchcraft of the treasury. Let’s go on this adventure and come back as a bunch of broom, not scattered broomsticks and tattered umbrellas. Let’s rewind the clock to the Africa of our forefathers. The Africa that tell moonlight tales under trees, the Africa that minds no blood differences. The Africa that stretched its arms to the whites. But let us watch our heads like the crabs. We are elders, let’s look back at the log that fell us and plan not to fall again. Let’s rewrite the script of this film. Let’s give our children better films to watch. These are just the conflicts, at the resolution of the film, it will be qualified to be called a melodrama. If you don’t want these words to be like masturbating the moon, please share it everywhere, not just let it rest in your heart.


Edited: One Nigerian Dream Media

Convener: Badiru Kehinde (Poet, Writer, Editor, Graduate Student, Literary Studies, UNIOSUN)
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Contact: Onenigeriandream@gmail.com

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