In all honesty?
Sometimes I wonder what the fate of the common man is, not only in my country, but also in all the corners of the world where sound leadership and morality in government continue to elude them. In the states where the judiciary is an auctioneer’s playground and justice has seized to be a blind virgin but a sighted woman with the capacity to identify the most promising and lucrative suitor.
It is in nations like this that I seek to know which path has been laid for the common man to follow, will he remain at the echelon he is right now, not able to move to the next cadre of society because of the chains of the system? Will he continue to revolt against strata division and chase after egalitarianism? Or will he adapt to the situation and term it as “accepting fate”.
These are the thoughts that knock at my heart in my moments of solitude, when I’m withdrawn from the madness called society, when I’m in what the young teenager and some writers tag as ‘my own space’. I want to know if the indistinct man will continue to be the docile actor following the lines of the scripts and the orders of the director or if he will defy forces that seem above him; if and when he does, what is his lot? Will he have a sea of supporters urging him on? Willing to die of, by and for him? Or will he be tossed into Siberian cold by rodents and cowards who prefer to lurk and dwell in the dark and suffer the indignities rather than come into the light, no matter how much it will scald their skin when they transcend.
Perhaps, what the revolting common man will have are vermins and blood suckers who will lust after his popularity and try to usurp his authority, Brutuses and Judases who will trade him for their own aggrandizement at the slightest opportunity.
Yes, I fear for the common man not because he will have a tough time challenging his oppressors but because he will have the impossible task of sowing a seed of belief, igniting a spark of passion in the cold minds of cowardly men who are content to accept the poison dosed out to them in the name of benefits of democracy, men who are but bodies with no soul, shadows, frames, embalments, men devoid of dreams and ambitions; men like you and I.
I fear for the revolutionary because he will always have to look behind, watching for the scythe of betrayal wielded by men whose lips are stained with the wine of avarice, whose reasoning and acumen have been lost to the thought of expensive women of easy virtue, men whose belly are filled with rottenly gotten rations of others. You see the hunger for easy paths in their eyes; you feel their lust for the shortest way, be it just or not, to pecuniary comfort. You smell their determination fouled with the putrid smell of deceit.
Freedom fighter, beware, common man observe, for not all those who shout and militate for justice are interested in seeing her blind, not all those who castigate the powers that be are fighting for the common good. For when they are taking to higher places, suited with the luxury of sweet lazy life, their drums become silent, hands are too fat and heavy to create the rhythm for change, words cannot spew forth as they continue to choke down the reward of the loud clamours for freedom that made their throats sore.
The activist dies and with him, his agility.
From the death a new breed is born, a drone, a sloth, a paid piper willing to see things in a ‘new light’, willing to consider ‘certain indices’, a fox willing to find ‘terms’ with the government so the nation can forge ‘ahead’. Then I ask, ahead where? In its journey to destruction?
E.A.G 2010

ha ha very funny man

jaygiant:
In all honesty?
Sometimes I wonder what the fate of the common man is, not only in my country, but also in all the corners of the world where sound leadership and morality in government continue to elude them. In the states where the judiciary is an auctioneer’s playground and justice has seized to be a blind virgin but a sighted woman with the capacity to identify the most promising and lucrative suitor.
It is in nations like this that I seek to know which path has been laid for the common man to follow, will he remain at the echelon he is right now, not able to move to the next cadre of society because of the chains of the system? Will he continue to revolt against strata division and chase after egalitarianism? Or will he adapt to the situation and term it as “accepting fate”.
These are the thoughts that knock at my heart in my moments of solitude, when I’m withdrawn from the madness called society, when I’m in what the young teenager and some writers tag as ‘my own space’. I want to know if the indistinct man will continue to be the docile actor following the lines of the scripts and the orders of the director or if he will defy forces that seem above him; if and when he does, what is his lot? Will he have a sea of supporters urging him on? Willing to die of, by and for him? Or will he be tossed into Siberian cold by rodents and cowards who prefer to lurk and dwell in the dark and suffer the indignities rather than come into the light, no matter how much it will scald their skin when they transcend.
Perhaps, what the revolting common man will have are vermins and blood suckers who will lust after his popularity and try to usurp his authority, Brutuses and Judases who will trade him for their own aggrandizement at the slightest opportunity.
Yes, I fear for the common man not because he will have a tough time challenging his oppressors but because he will have the impossible task of sowing a seed of belief, igniting a spark of passion in the cold minds of cowardly men who are content to accept the poison dosed out to them in the name of benefits of democracy, men who are but bodies with no soul, shadows, frames, embalments, men devoid of dreams and ambitions; men like you and I.
I fear for the revolutionary because he will always have to look behind, watching for the scythe of betrayal wielded by men whose lips are stained with the wine of avarice, whose reasoning and acumen have been lost to the thought of expensive women of easy virtue, men whose belly are filled with rottenly gotten rations of others. You see the hunger for easy paths in their eyes; you feel their lust for the shortest way, be it just or not, to pecuniary comfort. You smell their determination fouled with the putrid smell of deceit.
Freedom fighter, beware, common man observe, for not all those who shout and militate for justice are interested in seeing her blind, not all those who castigate the powers that be are fighting for the common good. For when they are taking to higher places, suited with the luxury of sweet lazy life, their drums become silent, hands are too fat and heavy to create the rhythm for change, words cannot spew forth as they continue to choke down the reward of the loud clamours for freedom that made their throats sore.
The activist dies and with him, his agility.
From the death a new breed is born, a drone, a sloth, a paid piper willing to see things in a ‘new light’, willing to consider ‘certain indices’, a fox willing to find ‘terms’ with the government so the nation can forge ‘ahead’. Then I ask, ahead where? In its journey to destruction?
E.A.G 2010

And Years later, everything is still the same

HotPoundedYam:


And Years later, everything is still the same

Nope.. far worse...




Nigeria 9years ago be like paradise compared to this day.. And there seem no repite in sight

Good write up, But next time speak simple And easy English!!

If Africa as a whole was developed and successful, We wouldn't need English language to survive in the first place just like most European countries!!