Do you know what's happening in China?
No
Follow them
Do you know what's happening in Canada?
No
Follow them
Don't follow Nigeria
Worse, don't follow Nigerians
You might end up in Libya, Kuwait, South Africa, South Korea or worse Nigeria...Yes you might end up in Nigeria.
A place where we die on a daily basis
Either you are killed by armed robbers, cultist, accident, suicide, politicians, Yahoo boys, or SARS...
Oh yes, the police is no longer your friend, they are your enemies now, blood thirsty killers.
Nigeria is now synonymous with shame
My brother in-law used to tell me a parable his father told him, he said a man that seniors shame is a man you should never fight...that man now is Nigeria, Nigeria is beyond shameless, a country that seniors shame.
In Nigeria 12 and 14 year olds are seen praying and kabashing in their school uniforms, sweating under the unction and Nigerians are cerebrating... Yes the leaders of tomorrow can pray when their mates in China and Japan are inventing technologies that will change their world, programming codes that will produce what our kids will grow up tomorrow and call Oyibo magic.
I saw a post shared by someone on Facebook about a kid in ontisha or aba who built castles in sand, another one built cars with metal and one built a mini estate with clay, some were taught to make liquid soap and Nigerians are happy, ecstatic, thrilled at the sight...!
Do you know what's happening In USA
No
Follow them
Don't follow Nigerians, you might end up in Dubai and rob millions of dinars and be caught.
So Nigerians here can laugh and say, 'Thank God they are not Yoruba's, Thank God they are not Hausa's
See them they are Igbo's, biafrans. Forgetting they are all Nigerians irrespective of the damn tribe or race!
A housed divided against itself can never stand yet you wonder why we live to fall another day.
Race and religion continues to be the greatest arsenal, more lethal than nuclear bombs..annihilating firstly sense then humanity.
A race against time, rat race.
That's the Nigerian way
Always running
From police
From marriage
From poverty
From corruption
From terrorists
From cows
From Fulani herdsmen
From yahoo boys
From SARS
The list is endless
So tomorrow after work, I will walk home and plug my earpiece deep into my ears, maybe I will find solace in the beautiful sounds and drown the noise and stench..the putrid smell of the Lagos night assaulting my nostrils, reminding me that I'm still in Nigeria.
Maybe the sound, yes it must be foreign because I can't stand the Nigerian songs either, so maybe the peaceful rhythm and poetry of the foreign sounds can be an escape to an Eldorado of fantasy
I can become Alice in Wonderland in my long trek home.
While I face front and never look back, back to the salt of the traffic, the salt of the heat, the salt of the smell running with dust and tyres, trying to envelop me in a frenzy of black and sin.
Just maybe I will forget for an instant and get home on time so I can stop by the wine shop close to my house and buy a bottle of Johnny walker, so I'll have company as I moonwalk to the moon of my Eldorado, my own fantasy universe...
Johnny walker will be my company, walking with me so I'll never feel alone as I fly on the wings of alcohol to a place where marriage, NEPA, wicked boss, desperation, family and girlfriend cannot reach me.
Maybe I'll find peace, not the kind the poor bastard who leaped from the cliff or bridges found when they escaped Nigeria.
Maybe the type papa Lovelyn finds every night when he plunges deep and hard into mama lovelyn, hitting and knacking her with well built muscles and six packed stomach, beat to fitness by hardwork, blind hustle and hunger.
Because even the rich disgusts me, so I won't find their kind of peace, the type tailored to feed their relevance and name...the type they associate with when it suits them and then at night they find the prettiest slay queen to knack and plunge their sweet pipes filled with stolen and corrupt oil, just to empty inside their victim for the night.
Like a stray dog, our passport has become a dark collar, a stigma that makes other countries scared and wary of us.
Our voices have become a vicious bark in the night, disturbing sleep.
The howl interrupting peaceful sleep.
A rabid dog in the sight of the citizens of other countries.
Our legacy is a joke.
Our anthem, a lost call
Our pledge, a forgotten song
So daily I take a walk past the cemetery and mourn our dead dreams.
But even as I write this, I doubt I will be strong enough to embark on that long and tiring walk home, so I'll just order taxify and wait for the banker by day and driver by choice, to come and pick me up, so I'll ride at the back watch the night life go on, oblivious of my silent, angry, red and tired eyes.
Nigeria, "Beware of dogs" they call us.
Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne
Authorpreneur
www.ofunneceo.blogspot.com
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