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A Potpourri Of Pains

June 22, 2020
in Articles
13 min read
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The several diligent men and women that serves in the EFCC, must be ashamed of the institutional hypocrisy that has rendered that agency, a mere tool for the distraction of the Nigerian people, whilst the rulers privatize the public purse. How do you continue to justify chasing petty thieves around, when the real thieves have become untouchable?

I have a need to write. I am in excruciating pain.

I have been in pain for years. I live in the Country of pain. But these are different, deeper, existential. I need to ease the pains. I need to write.

I wince in pain at the obvious wickedness , cluelessness, and the total absence of enlightened selfish interest on the part of Nigerian rulers in dealing with the challenges of Covid.

I wince when I consider the fact that the total number of tests conducted in Nigeria till date, numbers less than 40,000 people from the shame of an estimated 200M people. Estimated citizens, verbal autopsies, school feeding by television, governance by polling, audiovisual actions. I am in pains.

I wince as I cannot forget that the tests are themselves not being done with any concomitant hope, or intention, of tracing the ones with whom the ones that tested positive had come in contact. I am in pain as I consider the charade in the market of liars.

Would Heaven Be Kinder?

Would your heaven be kinder to me. Are we going to have a section for me. I cannot be twice destined for hell. I have already lived as a black man.

Would Heaven Be Kinder? Dele Farotimi

I have a friend that tested over three weeks ago, when he had flu symptoms. His results are not out until now. What if that test was positive. Is he still positive? What about all the people he has interacted with? What about the people that they have been in contact with? Who is fooling who?

I wince as I see evidence of a ruling class that is openly contemptuous of the people that they are meant to rule. I see the impunity with which they assert the right to privatize the commonwealth. I look at the spectacle of Obasa, AKA Ninalowo telling me and everyone of the other idiots speaking Dogo Turenci, that we can all go to hell. I am in pains

The pains become maddening when I look at the cuddly teddy bear that Magu and the EFCC becomes, when the thief is one of the party of saints. The very same EFCC, tamer of every two bit Yahoo! Boy, has not found the grace to invite Obasa to explain the several charges that Sahara Reporters have leveled against Obasa. Maximum compliance with the rules of social distancing in shameless self abnegation.

The several diligent men and women that serves in the EFCC, must be ashamed of the institutional hypocrisy that has rendered that agency, a mere tool for the distraction of the Nigerian people, whilst the rulers privatize the public purse. How do you continue to justify chasing petty thieves around, when the real thieves have become untouchable?

You can follow Dele Farotimi on facebook and twitter to discuss the various issues in the politics of Nigeria.

George Floyd. He had a name. There are pictures of him. There are graphic videos of his murder. He was throttled to death by a racist policeman in Minnesota. In the US of A. In the land of Donald Trump. May God’s mercies be with his family, and may His grace console them. Some people have stopped breathing in Nigeria because of Floyd.

The families have no names. They just happen to be Nigerians from the state of Katsina. The bandits came whilst they slept. They took all of the cattle. They raped the women. Girls as young as 12-14 years old were violently deflowered. A couple of them took a young boy behind the huts. His abominable wails of agony told of the pains he endured, and then the single shot. They returned to kill off all the adult males that they could find, and off they marched with the livestock, young boys, girls, and the women. Nobody is gagging for breath, because of them. These killings are rampant all over Nigeria.

I cannot even begin to consider the several that are daily killed by the Nigerian police, army, navy, customs, majamaja, and whatever names that they are called by the Nigerian state, nor do I wish to peel the scabs by remembering the lives “deleted” on behalf of our many feudal lords.

I mourn each one of these deaths in exactly the same way. I believe that each one of their deaths, not only diminishes the value of my almost spent live, it threatens the lives of my own children. I am related to each and every Nigerian lives that are being wasted daily in the several avoidable orgies of violence, and I struggle to breathe in the face of the gloomy future, that I see as a consequence of the current trajectories of my own country.

I mourn for my friends and family members who had fled the insanity of our own country in the belief that they were headed to God’s own country, but who have today become just as fearful about the future of their children, as are we, who elected to stay behind.

I am in pain when I consider that Brother Floyd might have come home if we had managed to build the paradise that we had been blessed with. I am in pain when I consider how many would have returned home, if we had built a home. If you cannot breathe, you wouldn’t be reading this yelps of pain: but of what utility is wasted oxygen?

I did promise to keep this short. But I must of necessity ask a question of you: what do you think we can do about this Obasa guy? Suggestions please?

DF

Tags: Black Lives Matter
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