If you are a surface thinker reading this, you are on your way to intellectual cemetery. If at age 20 you already have millions in your account and such is not a product of your labour, I advise you stop at this point. You may not see beyond. If you believe any critic of the government in power is a weapon of aggression launched by a rival party, you need deliverance before you can proceed. If you hate the truth and realist, you need leave this particular piece, you may check back when I write about my childhood fantasies.

There is every possibility that every new day in Nigeria opens the door of new trouble for the common men: one Ngozi dies on a daily basis as a result of poor health infrastructures in the government “owed” hospitals, one Aremu is buried each day amidst tears courtesy of the security challenges facing our nation and a Danladi is lynched everyday by angry traders for the alleged theft of a roasted corn after going five days without food. Wait, did I mention that no looting political office holder should bother to read this too? I am saying it now, please read about your next holiday spot in Dubai and the A to Z looting techniques. I know you are as mad as hell.

One day, in a part of the country, four young men accused of armed robbery were beaten out of strength by irate able bodied men and women. Short of the least energy to plead innocent, they rolled up and down in their own blood and unconsciously pleaded for mercy. The blood thirsty men paused to look at themselves and then heaved with a deadly relieve as bricks landed on the skull of the four victims followed by the chorus “die”. Today, the blood of these innocent souls still cries to the high heavens for justice. But justice is on her sick bed, I hope we won’t be invited to her funeral soon. Did that moment and act pass a message to us as Nigerians?

Few days later, before a judge peeping through his glasses, a young man was arraigned for stealing a tuber of yam. After pleading guilty to the charges and begging to be pardoned for the sake of his kids who were well dressed in rags and seized with anxiety in the court room, the learned judge clears his throat in a menacing manner and pronounced three years of imprisonment on him. “That is the law,” he said in a quite pitiful tone as the kids struggled with the khaki men to let daddy go. What does that say to you as a Nigerian?

In the same day, but in another part of the country, Asake, a very old woman was beating to pulp by several street boys. Her crime was that she was too old not to be a witch. “How could you live till this time when your colleagues are all gone? You are definitely behind our failures,” “mama Salewa was born after you, she died three years ago,” “Mr. Salako was your age mate, he died last year,” one muscular young man asserted as others confidently chorused “Asake, the witch”. Then came the suggestions, “let us severe her into pieces,” “no, let us bury her alive,” “why not burn her with my old tyres?” Any message from that as a Nigerian?

On the same day, in the same part of the country, Mr Ijakumo was seen addressing thousands of youths who kept on chanting his name and assuring him it is either him in the next election or violence. During his first tenure, he ordered Mr. Transparency to be beaten to coma, with his influence, probity was sent on exile and he was among the collective fighters for the release of corruption. Honourable Ijakumo was a well built man with a protruding belly and an empty head to match it. Any observation from that as a Nigerian?

And to borrow from Rudolf Ogoo Okonkwo, on the same day, in yet another part of the town, a big politician and his entourage pulled into town in a convoy of exotic vehicles led by expert police riders. Young men with fists up in the air and heads bowed surround the biggest of the cars in which the politician was suspected to be. “We are loyal,” “If not you next year, then violence,” they yielded by the window. Just from a far distance, one older man noticed the blood stain of a poor pedestrian on the tires of the politician’s vehicle. The politician’s convoy knocked down an old woman with her baby few miles back and moved on. “God will punish him,” the older man said and walked away. Any message so far?


Hidentity is an African.

With Hidentity's tone and mood, it is evident that not all are being fooled by the smiling vampires.