afolayanto: If its only the victory over the deadly ebola virus I guess it's worth the celebration! Dat virus has ruined Liberia hope u knw. Nigeria go better but dual citizenship isn't a sin anyway....If you have your way my guy grab it

bayulll01: My name is Nigeria !!! I need Re-
Building and not Re-Branding.
In the next few hours, am going
to spend 10 billion Naira to
celebrate my 54nd birthday! I am
Nigeria !!!.
I am divided into 36 unequal
states, plus my capital territory,
christened ABUJA . I have
millions of acres of arable land
and billions of cubic litres of
water, but I cannot feed myself.
So I spend $1 billion to import
rice and another $2 billion to
import milk. I produce rice, but
don't eat it. I have 60 million
cattle but no milk. I have the
capacity to feed the whole of
Africa but I import most food
instead.
I am hungry, please help and re-
build me.
I drive the latest cars in the
world but have no roads, neither
can I boast of manufacturing a
bicycle's tyre. I lose family and
friends everyday on my roads for
which funds have been allocated
to build and rehabilitate but the
fund has been looted. I lose my
young, my old, and my most
brainy and productive people to
the potholes, craters and
crevasses they travel on
everyday. I am in permanent
mourning, please re-build me.
My school has no teacher and
my classroom has no roof. I take
lecture notes through the
window and live with 15 others
in a single room. All my
professors have gone abroad,
some of the rest are awaiting
visas. Those that remain, depend
on money raked from the sales
of hand-outs to students. My
students receive lectures for a
maximum of 3 months in a year
due to lecturers' strike or
students' boycott of lectures
because of lack of better
condition of service and
deplorable condition on campus.
That explains why I have
university graduates, who are
semi- illiterates.
I want a future, please re-build
me.
Malaria, typhoid and many other
preventable diseases send me to
hospitals which have no doctors,
no medicines and no electric
power. So my wife gives birth by
candle light and surgery is
performed by quacks. All the
nurses have gone abroad and
the rest are also waiting to go. I
have the highest maternal and
infant mortality rates in the
world and future generations are
dying before me.
I am hopeless, hapless and
helpless, please re-build me.
I wanted change so I stood all
day long to cast my vote. But
even before I could vote, the
results had been announced.
When I dared to speak out,
silence was enthroned by bullets.
My rulers are my oppressors,
and my policemen are my
terrors. I am ruled by men in
mufti, but I am not a democracy.
I have no verve, no vote, no
voice, please re-build me.
I have over 50 million youths
with no jobs, no present and no
future. So my sons in the North
have become street urchins and
their brothers in the South have
become militants. My nephews
die of thirst in the Sahara and
their cousins drown in the waters
of the Mediterranean . My
daughters walk the streets of
Lagos , Abuja and Port
Harcourt , while their sisters
parade the streets of Rome and
Amsterdam. I am inconsolable,
please re-build me.
My people cannot sleep at night
and cannot relax by day. They
cannot use ATM machines, nor
use cheques. My children sleep
through the staccato of AK 47's,
see through the mist of tear gas,
while we all inhale Carbon
Monoxide, poisonous CO-2 from
popular 'I better pass my
neighbour' (portable generators)
and 'Okada' (motorbike taxis)
The leaders have looted
everything on ground and
below. They walk the land with
haughty strides and fly the skies
with private jets (28 of which
were bought in the last 12
months). They have stolen the
future of generations yet unborn
and have money they cannot
spend in several lifetimes, but
their brothers die of hunger. I
want justice, please re-build me.
I can produce anything, but
import everything. So my
toothpick is made in China; my
toothpaste is made in South
Africa; my salt is made in Ghana;
my butter is made in Ireland; my
milk is made in Holland; my shoe
is made in Italy; my vegetable oil
is made in Malaysia; my biscuit is
made in Indonesia; my chocolate
is made in Turkey and my table
water made in France. My taste
is far-flung and foreign. I no
longer cook at home but take
pride in eating at take-away
outlets fashioned after the
Western style of living.
Anything made in my land is
inferior; I prefer those made in
England, America or Europe . To
crown it all, items made in my
land but specifically sent abroad
with made in England labels are
brought back from 'Oyinbo' land
at 5 times the original price it
would have gone for had it been
sold as home made, please re-
brand me.
My people are cancerous from
the greed of their friends who
bleach palm oil with chemicals;
my children died because they
drank 'My Pikin' with NAFDAC
numbers; my poor die because
kerosene explodes in their faces;
my land is dead because all the
trees have been cut down; flood
kills my people yearly because
the drainage is clogged; my fish
are dead because the oil
companies dump waste in my
rivers; my communities are
vanishing into the huge yawns of
gully erosion, and nothing is
being done. My livelihood is in
jeopardy, and I am in the
uttermost depths of
despondence, please re-build
me.
I have genuine leather but
choose to eat it.. So I spend a
billion dollars to import fake
leather. I have four (4) refineries,
but prefer to import fuel, so I
waste more billions to import
petrol and diesel. I have no
security in my country, but
would rather send troops to
keep the peace in another man's
land. I have 160 dams, but
cannot get water to drink, so I
buy 'pure' water that broils my
inwards. I have a million children
waiting to enter universities, but
my ivory dungeons can only take
a tenth (10 %). I have no power
(electricity) , but choose to flare
gas, and vote billion of dollars
every year to generate electricity
but not a single watt has come
from it. So, my people have
learnt to see in the dark and
stare at
the glare of Unclad flares. I have
no direction, please re-build me.
My people pray to God every
morning and every night, but
commit every crime known to
man because re-branded
identities will never alter the
tunes of inbred rhythms. Just as
the drums of heritage heralds
the frenzied jingles, remember -
the Nigerian soul can only be
Nigerian - fighting free from the
cold embrace of a government
that has no spring, no sense, no
shame. So we watch the
possessed, frenzied dance,
drenched in silent tears as
freedom is locked up in
democracy's empty cellars. I
need guidance, please re-build
me.