BISHOP STREET: ANGELS IN MY GHETTO

Angel (Image Source)

“Chineke Nna emegokwa nwa ogbenye Ezege” – Phyno

Looking down at the usually busy street from behind the glass wall of the 9th floor on a Sunday morning, to put it mildly, was an utterly different experience. The sound of a thousand blaring horns and the sight of the non-stop list of exotic cars, both, were missing. This was my first time catching a glimpse of Bishop Aboyade-Cole on a Sunday morning: the serenity was fluid and even the few trees still left in this concrete jungle delighted in the peace as they swayed, periodically, with the pace of the passing whips of the wind. The day of the Sun really is different on Bishop Street and that difference laid my thoughts to wander…the last day of December was spawning.

The year is at its end, yet another is about to begin. The question therefore becomes, what did you do with this odd cycle of 366 days? If you are reading this then at least you celebrated you birthday – drinking Coke counts as celebrating so don’t mumble about anything. So then, what else? What else did you do with more than three hundred 24 hour days? Whose life did you change for the better, whose tears did you wipe, and whose wounds did you help heal? If your answers are “Nobody”, “Err…” or “Wait I’m coming” then think about 2016 again, think really deep and honestly ask yourself: was there a time or two that I could have, perhaps, made life brighter even just for another.

“See I’m living large I get Angels o for my gate oh” – Phyno

For me my answer was “Wait I’m coming”. I know I could have done much better because the angels that came out for me in particular this year were strong – like pounded yam mortar strong! I may never know their names and I surely do not know all their faces but what is certain is that I felt the firm grasp of their hands pushing me up and on as I took each and every step through the annum – when I thought I had stumbled, there was a hand and when I was sure I had fallen, there were many. At this point, regardless of whether you think you are spiritual or not, I’ll tell you this: Chineke aka Oluwa toh badt did it big this year and because of Him, I trust 2017 is going to be a heck of a lot of awesome!

Project 1 Nation (Image Source)

Every now and again, a vehicle dotted Bishop Street but far from as frequently as would have been on a Monday or Tuesday. It would pass right through with a sense of composure, no hurry or convulsive throttling. The ambience of hypnotically sliding Mercedes and X6s threw me back into the rickety bus that I had boarded to get to VI. In it were a mother and her child that she was lapping, both of whom were fast asleep, heads nodding off in the same direction. I remembered them because the bus jolting to a halt at its final stop caused their heads to slightly collide with a thump, waking both of them up – it was cutely comical. I remembered them because as soon as we got down, the first thing this lady, who looked like she was honestly just getting by, did was reach into her purse and hand her baby girl to hand to the exasperated amputee gentleman sitting on the side of the road N50. I had sighted two angels.

“Never forget where I come from na from Ghetto” – Phyno

Don’t just walk past that lady on crotches or gentleman in a wheelchair asking you for change for breakfast. S/He probably didn’t plan or decide to end up there asking for your help but the wheels of misfortune have been spun. Don’t ignore the call of people like Project 1 Nation, asking for hands to re-assimilate our internally displaced ‘brethren and sisthren’ currently with no place to really call their home. Don’t close your eyes or turn deaf ears to those in need all around us. Angels can come down from above, yes, but why wait for the supernatural to do the simple things that we who are already in the physical can easily cage.

A good question should be, why was I in the over 100ft. tower on a Sunday morning and a good answer would be I honestly can’t remember but you know how you know a mechanic or repair man's shop by all the worn-out cars, generators, fridges, air conditioning, etc. sitting out front? Well, shouldn't that be a warning sign? Imagine seeing 30 year old students still in front of a secondary school, would you send your child there? I believe sometimes we fail to see the signs that may be right in front of us. The number of people that seem to be begging for help for one reason or another seems to be on the rise, just look around you, but we don’t seem to want to notice. Some of us have become apt at hiding behind the walls of our majestic towers some of which are far taller than 200ft. I, for one, believe that the world is just one large ghetto and that we are in need of so many more angels. 

 “Buru ekene riwo otuto, Fada Fada eeeh, Fada Fada eeh!” – Phyno

As for me, everywhere is going to be my ghetto in 2017 – from Ikoyi to Egbeda, from Ketu to Agbara – and I will do my best to lend a hand wherever and whenever I can. Life is hard all around and so I will wipe tears, help heal wounds and even mend broken hearts.

“Aka nchawa o!” - Olamide

Angel (Image Source)

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MY CATHARSIS, BLUE

Metals 'N' Roses by Nkaiferi Ifiok

It’s never so easy to fall in love

So when you do you never want to set it free

You hold on for what you hope will be forever, 

Even when the love is turning awry

Even when feelings flow unilateral,

Letting go is far from the option

You think you see her desire to let it flow

Despite her dam holding back the tide

That wall is a chasm but you believe,

“ She’s fighting her feelings is all i’tis ” 

None of it do you want to understand 

All you desire is let her fall

Everything you think you can; I do 

Giving even nights before your finals 

But shear persistence is not enough 

To burst or break that bloody wall

He begs and pleas, “tell me please!” 

But all she says is the silent *mum*

So decide you do to let her go, 

Set free a love that you feel so strong

She says she’s sad letting you out the door 

A glimpse reveals it’s truth in her eyes

For an instant a tear she can’t control, 

Flows from behind that massive wall

You catch its glint as she turns to hide, 

Just before you shut the door goodbye 

It’s too late ‘cuz for now, you’re off! 

And without a doubt not turning back

But what really cut my soul so deep, 

Was that you never let him steal from your lips

Even a kiss to set my soul at peace, 

That one kiss that would have never let him leave

Every time that I came close to you

Face to face, with your back to the wall

It was your racing heart that I always did feel, 

Beating against my chest like “this is it.”

But whenever he leaned in to get a taste

You’d beg him not to comply 

You’d beg him with that tear in your eye

With your hand hard on his chest, "just let me go"

Fast forward three years to the third of March

The day I think you stole my breath away

Three years and boarders yet he couldn’t believe 

A woman made him forget to breathe

But not a second's care did I give, 

As we disappeared into that moment's tide

And if it decided, never to end

How perfect forever would have been 

But still I knew better, 

that was just the beginning, 
of the end…

  

Budding Beauty by Nkaiferi Ifiok

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NATURE VS NURTURE: RIGHT VS LEFT

- by Juwah C. O.  

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For more than a decade this topic has polarized Nigerians, provoking a heated debate wherever it arises. Some Nigerians list the pro's while others list the con's. I for one, am skeptical but ultimately disagree with the introduction of GM - Genetically Modified - crops or seedlings to our economy and ecosystem at large.

Those on the left who support the radical introduction of GM crops say the benefits outweigh the possible consequences as improved yields and stronger resistance to pests and diseases will improve food reach, reduce food imports resulting in reduced foreign exchange (forex) expenditure. These probable outcomes, if they indeed materialize, would be welcome in any economy. However, we must not summarily dismiss the probable consequences of adopting GM crops; unbridled perennial dependence on biotech firms for seeds, uncharted disruption of our ecosystem by the new strains and even more pernicious, uncertain health implications as genetically modified crops are currently, albeit speculatively, being linked with certain ravaging infirmities like cancers.

For those on my side of the fence, those closer to the right, I believe we all agree that GM is not the better way to go. Why? Start with the reasons stated above but aside from these, there is another reason for my skepticism about our enthusiasm for GM crops. This extra personal thought is the recurring trend of Ministers of Agriculture insisting that GM crops will be introduced, usually at the beginning of presidential cycles. Could this be a tell-tale sign of POSSIBLE unnecessary external influence from biotech firms?

If this is the reality, then it may not just end well for the source of these self-interested external pressures. The whole situation reminds me of a certain failed energy deal Nigeria had with a certain foreign firm a few regimes ago. This 'burton-deal' which was meant to "help" solve our energy problems was heavily skewed in favour of the foreign firm. The deal would have short-changed us greatly. If the introduction of GM crops is primarily for the benefit of some large corporation hiding in the shadows with plans to short change Nigeria then this would be another reason to remain right.

Nigerians should be careful with what we let through our borders, as "gifts" may be difficult to regulate and are more often than not, profit motivated. Unfortunately, however, the profit is rarely ever in our favour.

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TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE! #RIO

[Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock...]

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As I heard the explosion, everything slowed down just like in the matrix and in one swift motion I leapt out of the passenger’s seat – it was a Toyota something, everything else was a blur. I scanned the express – left, right, and left again like we're supposed to; there were cars and trucks but I couldn’t be bothered. I dashed across the first half of the road, weaving past one speeding trailer then another and a Peugeot 504 before flipping over the highway divider like a gymnast – my blood was pumping, my heart was beating, I was only halfway there…

…the other side was in sight but the frenzy between where I was and where I had to be was livid; I had to make it across the second half of the highway but there was Road Rage! Still, I couldn’t afford to hover over any position for even a second – Willi-willi [like Agent Smith from The Matrix] was hot on my tail so I couldn't look back, I went for it. I boosted past the first Sienna - another Toyota vehicle; I dodged the incoming BRT by the skin of my teeth – it was red and vicious; I hesitated in the nick of time to feel the full force of the wind raging behind the Camry that zoomed off without apology – yet another Toyota. My pupils were dilated, my sense of perception was 4G, I survived…

 [If you notice I had to practise ‘left, right and left again’ to get across one side of the express because this is Naija mehn and someone doing 240kmph on 'one-way' iz norma].

…I forged on ahead as the goal was in sight and like Chioma Ajunwa and Simone Manuel, I was about to set an Olympic record – I was about to cross the express in LAGOS. Just before I crossed the finish line, however, I caught from the corner of my eye, a glimpse of the true picture behind me. The explosion I heard was actually the sound of the exhaust of a tokunbo motto begging for mercy and the Willi-willi I thought I saw was a #teamLaiSkin babe, but she was no ordinary #teamLaiSkin; the babe  done use bleaching cream brighten her destiny.

The Olympics will be coming to Nigeria soon and when it does, don’t worry, I’ll be the one to run with the torchlight.

It was over in a Flash, I had set a new world record, the Gold was mine!

Time is of the essence; Le monde appartient a ceux qui se leve tot. The difference between victory and defeat could be less than the time it takes akara to fry; so if there is only one thing you must know during these games in Rio or wherever they may be, it is to keep moving forward and never look back, because…

Time Is of The Essence!

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aka

Oga do shap shap!

[...Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock.]

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IT’S A BIRD, IT’S A PLANE, IT’S, IT’S…AKPOS!

[Theme Music: ahhh, Ijo Shoki leleyi, Shoki!]

Super Akpororo (by Joshua Zirigbe)

It’s superhero time folks and yes you guessed right, it’s Akpororo! Who were you expecting? Superman?? Pleaasse, Akpororo is far greater. He is larger than life, faster than a speeding danfo, can eat Yoruba stew without drinking water (ma gawd! *tears* the pepper!!!), and yes you guessed right, Akpos can witness power outage without shouting “Up Nepa!” Akpororo is a true hero, rocking his green, white and green spandex with pride #IPledgeToNigeriaMyCountry.

There is a need for a personality for the children, and in fact everybody, to believe in. A dependable character worthy both in character and in learning; a hero who can defeat the evil forces of Boko Haram in a single episode – okay maybe two, one of those “…to be continued” episodes. We need a superhero that can fry plantain without betraying our trust by sampling from the frying pan while we are watching cartoon in the parlor; We need SuperAkpos! #ToBeFaithfulLoyalAndHonest. 

There is a need for this personality to fight battles that this younger generation, and even the old, can relate to; battles that they, despite their youth, can tell that when won, will set their country, yes THEIR country, on the path of a brighter tomorrow. We need this knight in shining agbada to speak fluent pidgin English with quality phòné and without unnecessary gbagaun; he will mediate for us when illegal aliens come from out of space to try and take over the world – No be for only yankee dem fit land jare #ToServeNigeriaWithAllHisStrength.

He will leap over Aso Rock in a single bound, fight corruption to a standstill like Lagos go-slow and his secret lair will be in Sambisa forest as we are all well aware that that place is impenetrable. Super Akpororo will take care of the league of shadows while soaking garri with groundnut and solving quantitative; he will teach all the divisive politicians a lesson and expose all the dollars and pounds that they are hiding under their caps #ToDefendHerUnity. 

Now, there is a status quo; people are hustling and suffering while a few are living off the sweat of the ‘suffering jaki’. There is a need for an end to be put to this dehumanizing condition under which millions of people are barely existing and we need Akpos The Guy to come show us that it is indeed achievable; that people that have long suffered and who have since lost all sense of hope can still be allowed to see the light of life #AndUpholdHerHonourAndGlory.

Are you frustrated with the current state of things around you, do you get a headache every time you step out of the sanity and sanctity of your own home? – If you are lucky enough to live in one. Do you want to bring about a revolution; do you want to save the suffering souls of the marauding masses? Even if you do, the unfortunate thing is that sometimes, these souls have become so loving of their plight that they don’t want to let go, they do not want to be saved. It is at this point that we need Bros Akpos even more; Akpororo knows that there are forces greater than even he and he always remembers, for he is not proud, to ask for the strength to serve and protect for even our great hero knows he is not invincible – but at least no be yeye stone abi kryptonite go disturb Akpos, na pounded yam go fall ‘im hand, e no go fit resist am with egusi soup #SoHelpHimGod.

[Clap for yourself, you have now completed the pledge!]

But before we go, we need to ask one more favour from our Ororo… 

We need Prof Kpos to save us from the antiheroes among us. You often find them seething or foaming at the mouth behind closed doors but when they arrive in the town-square, they cannot even gather the courage to look their oppressors in the eyes, they stare rather, like maltreated dogs, at their feet, heads bowed in submission. It disgusts me! When you try to motivate them to aspire, to fight for what they deserve, you meet with lethargy and generally nonchalant retorts like: 

“Oboy, na Nigeria we dey o, no be America”, “Na me wan die?”,

“Wetin consign you, na your broda?”, “Na so things dey na.”

From the elite, the response is even more nauseating; they hole up behind the giant walls of their castles and behave as if anything happening beyond their front gates is of no concern to them. At them, in particular, I laugh, and ask that they remember Hitler started his ‘war’ by first making a certain class of people ‘disappear’ and nobody cared but eventually, he came for those that ‘did not care’ and there was nobody to care for them.

Akpos is coming soon to save a city near you; This is why my friend, course-mate-emeritus and talented artist, T.josh and I are working on a couple of Naija-Anime (behind the scenes of course, Josh don’t kill me o #Spoiler). I am certain that when the caption finally drops, Spiderman, Ironman and even Batman will be begging to feature. We wee not agree. 

Ekaette the Fufu Bender (by Joshua Zirigbe)

Super Akpos to the rescue!

NB: Ekaette The Fufu Bender is not Akpos The Guy's sidekick,  na only she fit pound the yam wey dey confuse Akpos, lol


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ELECTROCUTION

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Bonjour Messieurs et Dames

YES my poem has begun

Today I will be taking you,

Through a COURSE of electrocution

We will begin with air not Heir

For tis about sound, not spelling

Next will be an hour in the ‘ouse of ‘orror,

For all the Honorables fallen in battle

Ask your questions please, never AXE

For the cup of this decades bloodshed is full

Lest we shed more Tears from our eyes,

Not the type o’ Tears to be mend with a stitch

Don’t be bothered by the preyure, No

It’s still only English, no pro’lem

Better yet ask Fareed Zakaria,

Indian Accent, CNN, No need for GPS

26 Letters, 44 Sounds

Why wont my people say Shursh not Church

Who on earth would’a should’a could’a known,

That Fresident of the Federal ReFuvlic sounds with a ‘P’.

But Ten minutes I can guarantee

On BBC or be it SKY

Will cure SCHWA or any maledictions,

No more need for phóné-tic sounds

Fricatives are sure to cause Friction

Just as elocution is sure to be electric

But meaning the ability to transmit

Makes it all the real Electrocution

#H₃₃Revary

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Inspired by The Lagos Finishing School's ELOCUTION COURSE while in a Big4!

FIRE BURN DEM!

I was eager to be off, two annoying hours on a queue just to enter a miserable bus to that bleak town. Then it finally got to my turn, I paid for my ticket and entered the miserable bus. I settled down hoping no ‘Overly Plump Person’ would worsen my day by sitting next to me – nobody likes to be squeezed like sardines in an already uncomfortable bus (I don’t hate O.P.Ps). So the thing is, I was heading back to campus in that bleak town and after years of riding with Miserable Motors, I had given up hope of any fine girl ever sitting next to me in the bus; my luck no dey reach there, I just focus on hoping for a comfortable ride. [Back to today’s Bus] So you can imagine my relief when a smallish woman occupied the seat next to mine, I said a silent thank you and then plugged in my earphones and closed my eyes.

“IN THE NAME OF JESUS!!!” I was jolted awake by the sound of a strong voice and surprise, surprise, the owner of the voice was the petite woman next to me. I was emotionless! but feeling guilty about not praying before the journey, I unplugged my earphones and sat listening, offering my voice minimally to the intense prayer every now and again with a humble A-men.

"HOLY GHOOOST FIRE!!!", "FIRE!!!!!!"

"Any-BODY dat doesn't want this journey to be SUCCESSFUL, be it ONE person on dis bus, or A GROUP OF DEM…”

"…Oku Mmuo Nso KPOO HA OKU!!!!!!"

*Translation*

"HOLY GHOOOOOOST FIRE!!!!!!"

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She went on for a long time, vehemently cursing between enemies; seen&unseen, and evil family&friends; known and unknown. I often find these public fire for fire sessions somewhat comic and so I quickly did a once over at everyone on the bus to see if anyone else was slightly amused but no, they all appeared to be deep in prayer; casting&binding anyone and anything hindering their progress in any way, shape or form, with intermittent breaths of, "Fire!"

Such was the intensity of spiritual fervour in the bus that I had to entertain for an instant, the thought that I might have been a hindrance to the safety of the vehicle and its passengers due to my unenthusiastic participation; much like the proverbial Jonah, I could have been a potential source of bad luck. But then I really started to think about it all, mind you, my thoughts are not attempts at trying to sound clever. I wondered, if all our prayers were answered; how many people would spontaneously combust or fall dead? I wondered, if God decided to humour Himself; would we all fall down and die – as fellow architects of our own misfortunes; our own enemies of progress and/or our own stumbling blocks?

It is widely believed that God intended us all to be prosperous and wealthy and that when this is not so, someone or something is preventing us from fulfilling that destiny. While this may be true, the danger with this school of thought is that people, instead of looking inwards for the more uncomfortable possibility that they are not doing something right rather peruse perceived external forces holding their progress at bay.  No one is left out of the loop; not even father or sister – but bad bele really dey sha.

We all like a good grass to grace story, no problem there but the Nigerian factor here is that we don't want the run of the mill grass to grace cliché; it has to be spectacular, it has to be spiritual! Malefactors lurking in dark corners tirelessly working against our success in realms beyond the physical must be defeated after all. 

Take the case of a neighbour's toddler climbing a gate. After a friend warns her that her baby could fall, the mother’s immediate response is "My baby will not fall in JESUS NAME!" In this case, the toddler who knows no better obviously is oblivious to the danger he is in, his responsibility is in your hands. Therefore if that child were to fall, there is no one to blame but the mother for whatever injuries the child may sustain.

The truth is that no one likes to take the blame, but more oft than not, that face staring back at you in the mirror is as much your stumbling block as anyone or anything else. So stop raining down black flame and accept your BLAME!

Next 

GUNS “R” US

“Guns don’t kill people, people do”

- The National Rifle Association 

  (NRA), USA                      

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I heard my grandfather once went into ‘the bush’ to see our village lands; I heard on arrival he was chased by some unscrupulous men with silver machetes and black guns – they were illegally selling our village lands to other unscrupulous men. God bless the old man, he was still agile enough at 85 to outrun younger men in their prime, men in their 40s. Papa has, however, passed away now; it was his time, no bullets were involved.

My grandfather’s name was Young and Grandpa Young also had a gun. It wasn’t anything too fancy, just a typical side-by-side, double-barreled shotgun with Anson & Deeley boxlock action, he polished it regularly and used it to announce the New Year; every year. Papa loved his gun, it was more of what my buddies in India would call a Lunali. Mr. Young never shot nobody.

I hear today of people who actually shoot other people and I don’t mean the usual police&thief; I hear herdsmen now carry guns! I know right, herdsmen, guns?! If I remember correctly, and I do, cattle-men used to roll with the shepherd’s staff and not Kalashnikovs, when did they make the switch from wood to iron, who was their arms dealer and who is behind the upgrade? I am honestly curious. I hear the guns are for ‘protecting’ their cattle and my question is, from who, peasant farmers!? If yes then perhaps we need to more publicly promote guns and hasten the proliferation of small arms and lights weapons (aka SALW) so that even the farmers can protect themselves from aggressive grass – naah, the cattle-gunmen need a better excuse.

Guns may be cheap; as low as $300, but bullets are darn expensive; a pack can cost $500, so my next question is, who keeps restocking ammo for these guys? Who the heck deals bullets for cattle-men?! We need to trace the source of the funds, the guns and the bullets. I am certain that there is no charity openly giving out weapons for free. Now, the slaughter currently only appears to be one sided and as such, people are yet to consider the possibility of another industrious arms-dealer marketing modern metal to farmers, who at this point may be willing to trade dull machetes for sharp bullets. If the famers trade by this barter, then the blood bath is only just beginning – hasta la vista buen senor.

People tend to blame religion for a lot of the bloodshed going on today but the truth is that human beings have always been blood thirsty, even before we started worshipping there were wars and pogroms, ketchup was spilled all across the earth but we ought to have become more civilized by now. I understand that there might still be an itch to let loose and spill more ketchup, even I myself am not free from this itch – let me explain. I recently passed out but had no idea that my hand was still wide awake. By the time I came through my trigger finger had gone to work, there were no survivors! It appeared I had slept over my ‘Chicago Typewriter’ with my killer finger on delete, needless to say, all I could do was weep. Google Chicago Typewriter, pun intended.

“Guns don’t kill people, people do”

- NRA

“Yea but an Uzi clip and some AK-47s sure make it easier”

- HRevary

My mind was roaming round this whole militarized nomad situation and the clashes with local farmers when something hit me – I actually physically got assaulted by a brick. Why is it that the clashes between Fulani herdsmen and farmers seem to have escalated in the recent past? What, beyond the proliferation of SALW, could be the cause of the increase in physical disagreements? What is the underlying problem? That brick really did hit my head hard because it knocked a thought in: Could it be global warming?

One of the purported effects of global warming on this side of the world has been irregular rainfall. This has led to increased desertification and less vegetation in places deeper inland, places like Northern Nigeria. This could possibly explain why herdsmen seem to be migrating further south in search of greener pastures for their pets and why they and their pets have been running into more farmers. This is just a thought knocked in by a bullet, sorry, I mean brick.

Let me also use this opportunity to state that the current ‘Grazing Bill’ at the Nigerian National Assembly is, in my opinion, antithetical to our development. Firstly, nomadic shepherding is far behind the times in which we live, ranching and other variations are the preferable method of growing today’s meat. Furthermore, if a system of ranching were promoted instead of encouraging wild men and animals to be doing wakajugbe upandan, several other value chains would organically grow alongside the meat chain. The need for animal feed for instance would skyrocket; silage, soilage and what not, industries would bloom. Again, I am not a proponent of the ‘Grass Bill’ that seeks to carve out land that belongs to one people and give it to another people for free to run a private business. Cow meat no free for market o!

Well, all being said and done, welcome to my shop, Guns “R” Us, I am certain we have just what you’re looking for – even the black market stuff. We have PKMs, M1911s, MP5s, FALs, G3s, AR15s, RPG-7s and even Revolvers for the kids...

 “No more Mr nice guy! *kpa, kpa*”

- The Kid With The Gun

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Welcome to the Wild Wild West bi@₸₵ђ€$!

The End.

Disclaimer: This piece has nothing to do with a popular toys store.

INSTINCTS – THE ANIMAL WITHIN

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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 7^th 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!

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What did Scar say to Mufasa right before he sent him to the afterlife?

“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!

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