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Diary of a Random Naijerian

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They said the man called Jona is going for second term, some others say it’s third term. With the hunger pangs in my tummy, I can’t remember when he even got in. All I know is he has been there for a while.
Maybe if I had the opportunity to watch my black and white television, I would see him more often and never forget how many days he has been in office.

I hear Jona has forgotten what it means to live in darkness ‘cos he never experiences power outage, but in my hood, seeing light in a bulb is very strange. I don’t even know the state of my black and white television, it must have been destroyed from lack of use.
They scream 2015 guber, 2015 guber. Please, what's that? You see, I don’t know many things ‘cos all I hunt for is my next meal. Some say Buhari is the man, others scream Jona’s name, almost deafening my ears and scaring the last meal away from my tummy.

Do I have any business with who goes into power? After all, I’ve not eaten and their winning will not put food on my table. Even the few times I tried bothering my hungry self about who goes into power, my daily meal was reduced ‘cos they decided to share in my ratio.
The last time, I happily collected the bag of rice, without realising I was accepting hunger in disguise. Just a matter of weeks, I ate up the rice, and the hunger pangs at my doorsteps doubled. Well, since I was part of those that put them in, I decided to cry out, with the hope that they’ll take away my hunger pangs.

My dear, till now I’m still crying out. I’ve been told to stop straining the little voice I have left
‘cos their ear-drums are now filled with fats. I know the fats are from my share of the meal which they’ve refused to release. What can I do? Going to them directly will be a total waste of time ‘cos their eyes are now dazed, as a result of drinking too much power.

Last week, my very good friend Omo complained of how his second daughter was denied admission into the university because he could not pay to buy a space for her. These are the only schools we can afford, yet we can’t get in because we only have few notes in our pockets and nothing in the bank.  Right now, she would be forced to idle for another year or rub the protruded belle of Jona and his colleagues.

Just before they got in, we were not invisible and our looks were their utmost concern. Right now, we no longer exist. All our clothes would do is stain their stainless apparel of power. The one meant for us is stolen and stacked away in some places we never even dream of stepping our feet.

Have I told you about my Ada and her friends? They got promised jobs by Jona, but they’ve lost count of how many months they’ve waited for it, their ears are now over-filled and almost damaged with heaps of promises. As a result of their butt hurting from the long wait, they headed to several stadiums to pay an amount in exchange for a job they weren’t sure of getting and without an inkling that it’ll almost cost them their lives.

Look, I can keep on letting out more and more of what I have down my throat, but the cough down there would allow me say just one more thing. If you can reach them, just let them know that they can’t keep deceiving me, ring it in their ears that I’ve decided to keep my votes to myself. Whether they have it or not, the hunger pangs remain, so there’s really no need wasting it. I’ll just go about searching for my daily meal, than having bags of rice that hurt my abdomen.
You want to hear more? You can meet my good friend Omo. For now, I have to search for the next meal and get a cock for the Christmas season that is fast approaching. Enjoy your ‘mber’ months!

Drop your thoughts!

2 comments

Nigerian politics is a story for another day o... smh

Im not interested in 2015 election... Make them do weytin dem want

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