(Image Source) |
What did Mufasa’s brother say to Simba’s father right before he, Simba’s uncle, sent him, Simba’s uncle’s brother, to the afterlife?
“Long…live…the king!”
- Scar (Lion King, ‘94)
I was at a
filling station waiting for the attendants to release their pumps for business
– fuel scarcity so I needed to fill my tank – when a conversation entered my ear;
it entered, I wasn't eaves dropping. So, I was at the filling station when this
one guy says to the other, “I like that
girl, she small, com neat like new
motto…” In my mind, “Oshey! She neat like new motto!” A lady with a short dress enters a
bus and the probability is higher that every guy in that vehicle will be
distracted, even if for a fraction of a second.
What is fuel
scarcity? It can simply be defined as that phenomenon, that state of reality
that occurs at least twice a year in Nigeria causing queues, as long as the eye
can see, to be formed at various filling stations, crippling the already crippled
life that Nigerians struggle to cleave to.
This current scar-city episode, however, seems
to be running a marathon; the tin don refuse end, see us see wahala. What
started as the usual biannual festival sometime in 2015 has snowballed into a persistent
headache; this is mid-2016 for cheap sake! Honestly, I’m tired and if you live
in Nigeria I am sure you are too, so what is the cause of this prolonged nuisance?
Minister Kachikwu explains that there is
essentially a lack of foreign exchange which can be linked to the low oil
prices and our overdependence on a single resource *sigh* tell us something
new. We hear of the diversion of ships carrying refined crude destined for
Nigeria to the Lord only knows where and we hear that subsidy is still paid to
such dubious importers. We hear that the subsidy scheme itself is a scam as many
witnesses - people living outside Lagos, Abuja and a few other state capitals - claim
that petrol, diesel and kerosene never sell at the government price. We hear a
great deal and we are inclined to accept them for there are not many reasons to
believe otherwise.
Every day that this scarcity continues and every
hour the sub-sidy sham endures the poorest among us continue to suffer,
naturally, to the benefit of the greedy, self-aggrandising yobs who seem to
heed no duty of care to their fellow citizens. Reports have it that at about 1pm
on the 7th of April, 2016, calamity hit 21 Road Festac Town, Lagos.
Headlines read, “Black Marketers Vs Civil Defence Officers…”, “1 Dead and 3
Injured…” and, “Female NSCDC Officer Kills…” amidst other variants, but the
message was clear, at least one person was dead with others gravely injured and
the cause was related to the current situation of inadequate supply of petrol.
We are truly living in a sad situation; a
jungle of some sorts, survival seems to be by instincts and king is he who unleashes
the animal within, we need to get out of this state of calamity and fast!
“Long…live…the king!”
- Scar (Lion King, ‘94)
The wind blows slowly across the soaring
blades of the savannah as the long rays of light from the yellow sun strike the
ambience with passion, hunger, lust [Time: Half past mid-afternoon]. The lioness
breaks her stride as the ripples of the wind’s waves flow through the wildness
of her towering cover – like a gentle hand through long beautiful black hair
[View: Belittling of the best of high definition]. As the breeze slows, she continues
flawlessly in her furtive slide through the grass, her poise; majestic, her
curves; perfection [Intention: to kill].
The doe senses intention and hesitates from
her grass, she observes with keen perception as the hand of the wind caresses the
skin of the rich emerald vegetation to her side [Time: The setting of the sun].
She nibbles nimbly the fodder on her lips and steals surreptitious glances at
the suspect vegetation as it sways with hypnotic resolution [View: Demure
façade with an underlying restless agitation]. As the gust relents, she bites
down harder with conviction, her agitation; not of fear, her eyes; teeming with
excited expectation [Her Disposition: Game].
The wind continues, picking up pace and
rising in tempo as it runs to the departing sun at the horizon, yet he stands in
its way, unfazed, even relishing the rush of aggression [Time: The rising of dusk].
The magnificence of his coat burns with the fire of Apollo’s passing chariot
and his presence fills the plains with a tremendous aura [View: Charisma burning
with overflowing confidence]. As the wind pushes through, he remains resolute as
it tries in futility to test his strength, his dark mane; military, his build; sinewy
[His Roar: thunderous].
The buck raises his head to the sound of
thunder, revealing the deep lightning scar across his left eye, he is a veteran
of combat, a beast of conquest. [Time: Half an hour to full dusk]. The last
light of day illuminates a shadowy glint in his eyes, the glint reflecting the smirk
on his lips. [View: Manifestation of Constitutions] He charges straight ahead,
antlers set to purpose, calling to play his network of toned and defined muscles.
His stature is full, his features established, he charges on, unfazed by
thunder, pushing harder with every passing second [Determination: Absolute]
The lioness
strikes from behind the edge of the bush but her clawed paw misses the doe by a
hare’s breath; the she-deer ducks in the nick of time and is saved by lightning
reflexes. The doe sets off in the other direction and the recovering she-lion
pursues. The buck is now at full speed and the force behind his antlers is comparable
to a spear thrown by the Greek god Cephalous himself. The she-deer enters the
lion’s open field, the lioness is still in pursuit, closing in as the light
fades away. The game is afoot and the chase over as the advancing
she-lion goes for the doe’s neck; the lion watches.
The lioness is in
her deciding leap over the doe and adrenaline sets her vision to slow-motion,
she extends her left claws once again and hones in for the kill but at that
precise moment, in comes the buck, in the nick of time, bursting midair into
the lion’s field, Cephalous’ spears projected at the enemy of his doe; the lion
watches. The she-lion sees it all in motion; the lightning scar, the glint in
the eye, the prey below, and she rolls mid-air in the nick of time over the
buck using the force of his antlers as propulsion, avoiding death by a hare’s
breath; the lion is impressed.
The buck and his
doe scramble into the darkness as the sun finally sets; he will surely receive
the hero’s prize (*wink*). The impressed lion moves to the lioness under the
cover of darkness, his intentions clear (*wink again*). I was in the office the
other day, seriously pretending to be diligent – busy season so everyone has to
look serious– when a conversation entered my ear; it entered, I wasn't eaves
dropping. So, I was at the office when this one colleague says to the other, “Mehn,
there is this babe on my bbm, her avatar dey always bust my brain, e be like
say make I just copyright her DPs!” A
lady with a short dress enters a bus and the probability is higher that even babes
in that vehicle will be distracted for more than a fraction of a second; either
to hate or to appreciate.
After
the long wait on the queue, no fuel…na wa for this scarcity!
Very good piece
ReplyDeleteMerci beaucoup mademoiselle Folarin, vous êtes très gentille.
Delete