We were made in his image so call us by our (last) names, when the common denominator is taken away and class is categorised, we edge gradually but steadily away from the co-existence that was ‘initially’ designed.
Apologies for the silence in recent times, apparently the yellow network isn’t ‘everywhere you go’. In the absence of which, I was still privy to the entertainment that the shenanigans of our interaction federally brings. The intrigue of tweets by officials and re-tweets of former officials aroused my interest in the concept of doctrine and belief. The Christian version of a Fatwa was placed upon the ‘blasphemer’ for comments demeaning to Christian faith (‘If Jesus criticises Jonathan’s government, Maku, Abati or Okupe will say that he slept with Mary Magdalene.’), oh dear, another crucifixion perhaps not petty slander, more intriguing is the defence of the ‘re-tweeter’ – from one who is literally on the other side of the fence – ‘retweets are not endorsements’, (especially when you add LWKMD at the end) so you retweet a comment you don’t agree with and show your disdain by laughing till it almost kills you. As for @zeebbook may the plight of Salman Rushdie and Julian Asange not be your own IJN – well better leave him out this time.
In our semi-righteous hypocritical state we have resolved to eradicate all manner of immorality from our society, the NBC deemed some material unfit for the consumption of the Nigerian people. They are “… solely responsible for ensuring that musical videos and audios made for public consumption were safe”, the terror that Wande Coal can unleash is not safe abi? When Tonto wanted to murder us, una no talk –God is watching you. Are we not masters of our own entertainment? Or part of an organised system (built by us) to regulate and filter what we read, hear or see via channels of media, we are grateful for this endeavour and will adhere strictly to not listening to ; or dancing to Alingo, as a matter of National security (morality) concerns. Young Nigerians making a decent legitimate living from gladdening our mood are now castigated, make them go thief? If it is not of you, it wouldn’t be you, stop tinkering with things that mirror your true being. Abi 150m people na yam? How we take multiply reach like that if we no like the thing.
Equality does not exist, it is a façade devised by hope to facilitate order. Only in the field of jurisprudence does equality thrive (as no one is above the law), but I falter, for pay it be a fine of N250,000 to evade 2years imprisonment and grant your N23.3billion loot acclaim. Bend it as far as not to break it, in summary – Levels dey!
The one time we all congregate as a unit is on one platform only, for we are a joke as a federation, an amalgamated mockery of diverse cultures, religion and doctrine, blended together by eccentric colonials even in the face of natural demarcations (River Niger and Benue). Fortunately there is ONE thing that puts to rest ethnic, cultural and religious beliefs. One thing that cuts across age, sex and moral standing, the very thing that as Nigerians we stand united on – the sport of football. We celebrate the goal and accommodate the losses but never lay emphasis on individuality, you don’t hear players referred to or classified outside the realm of performance on the pitch, no one is an Ibo man, Yoruba or Hausa, we pronounce their names with ease and herald their achievement like ours, for in those 90mins we are all Nigerians. There is a certain oneness (and a certain general expertise in technical advice) with a tinge of comradeship; it is almost as though we are a country devoid of internal differences. We are one in sport, one collective force when our country plays, we abandon the roads and scamper to various venues, we scream at the top of our voices and share pleasantries with otherwise total strangers. It is a sight to behold and one to cherish, come Sunday when we play the final at the nations cup, we will adorn our national colors and stand proud, we would reach out in support of our super eagles and listen to the koko-master do his thing. In the light of truth, fairness and Stephen Keshi, join me to say sorry Osaze, but you can’t say “I told you so” for this one.
Ninety nine years in and all that truly binds is a game, therein lies the irony.