Please do not ever have the misfortune to die the death of a common man. Your death would, at most, be considered a blimp in the scheme of things.
If you are lucky enough to have social media activists notice your death and raise a hullabaloo about it, then you will be fortunate enough to get a hashtag. A few days of concerted social media hashtivism. Then all that storm in a tea cup would be slowly undertaken by some other more sensational news item. Something more worthy for national attention like:
Controversial actress Regina Daniels finally exposed: the small girl big god’s hashtivist has been unmasked. Click the link for more.
Or maybe even:
Social media erupts as Tonto Dike and estranged husband at each other’s throats over her claims. Churchill insists he is a 42.38769 seconds man.
These are important issues.
Did this actress nip and tuck to get her hourglass shape? Or did she do “fit fam”?
Is this celebrity sowing his wild oats all across the coast of Africa and beyond and leaving irate baby mamas in his wake?
Does Wizkid Ayo love them and thump them? Or are all his exes delusional witches who want to spoil his hard earned image?
Is Naira Marley (that half-bred so and so of the “soapy” dance craze) the latest Fela?
All these are issues more pressing than your unfortunate death as a Nigerian citizen who has “shuffered and shmiled” to his grave. It is your lot in life to die uncelebrated and unsung. Heck, even our soldiers in battle with Boko Haram insurgents are just scooped like sardines into hastily-dug mass graves and covered with sand that do a scant job of hiding the evidence from the memories of those who loved and were loved by them.
Who are you that your government should care about you?
For close to two years now, you – ordinary Nigerian – have complained about the menace of the so-called Fulani herdsmen along the Kaduna – Abuja expressway. Herdsmen that no longer keep count of cattle but of human lives whom they snatch from hastily-stopped vehicles and take deep into the forests where they are tended with less care than is reserved for cows. Milk is no longer a lucrative business in Nigeria. Indeed, it has been overtaken by tears, blood and the wailing of captives and their relatives.
But does your government care?
Not while they have an alternative means.
Helicopters, private jets and the railway line that President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan did NOT build. But which President Buhari’s strongest advocates insist upon now if their movement from point A to point B takes them anywhere through the Kaduna – Abuja expressway.
Hogwarts Express – Platform Thirteen and Three Quarters.
When your wailings as an average Nigerian gets too much, we are shown pictures of our defense chiefs faffing around in the nearest garden or park to them; and are told with much authority that this is them inside the thick forests along the Kaduna – Abuja expressway. Hunting for the herdsmen.
Now they see them.
Oops, lost them.
Wait, here they are.
We killed three of them.
They are the gang leaders.
All with suspiciously sounding Igbo though the escaped victims keep insisting they spoke a blend of Hausa and Fulfulde.
But we got them now. The menace has been handled. All clear. Okay for the masses to proceed traveling the expressway while we occupy the trains because for now, they appear safer.
Good luck (not Jonathan), with that.
Sure enough, as soon as those words are out of their mouths, another bus load of unfortunate Nigerians are abducted straight off the expressway. Next, frantic family members begin to circulate audio messages and videos pleading for assistance with ransom money.
Any little helps.
This time of integrity-challenged, shame-deprived, security chiefs; crowding around a child’s toy. The type you can buy for less than $100 from Amazon and which a well aimed catapult (or even a kitchen broom), can knock down out of the skies when it buzzes too close to your ears and/or invades your private space.
It appiyas these are “fighter drones” by shameless Nigerian standards, being deployed to fight kidnapping herdsmen to a standstill. No word yet on how many hundreds of millions were allocated to purchase what looks like a badly coupled version of that toy.
Nigerian government – a government of pictocracy.
Government of pictures, with pictures, by pictures… for the unfortunate Nigerian masses.
Fellow Nigerians, whatever you do; do not die poor and unknown.
Your government doesn’t care.
Your issue will be handled with a toy drone.
The only way to get action, is when you die with a name.
Because we are Nigerians.
We love titles and names.
Do you know the son of whom I am?
That is what gingers our swagger.
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