Who left these patches?again I ask…what is the meaning of these shameful patches left to expose the filth of our un-wiped behinds?It don’t resemble a clothe of many colors akin to that cut out for Joseph by his loving dad in the old testament.This instead stinks a decadence of gluttony from persons whose bellies have grown too full to notice the filth they leave exposed in their theft and corruption without caution.
Not that caution would play tribute to care in this tirade but as an old writer named Chinua Achebe once wrote in a literary narration called ”A MAN OF THE PEOPLE” heralded by one Odili,”You have eaten too much for the owner to notice”.
In our beloved country we call it a disease of politicians but in silent moments I have found myself in meditation to the same effect,a plight that has had me retracting fault from the chosen leaders of the day,(if only they were actually chosen though in most cases they are) and deflecting same to the common man on the ground in this case not only the citizen but also the voter himself.
A citizen well played in a well crypted movie called ,”THE CITIZEN” played out by a well known Oscar award winner Denzel Washington,a name ever since so Favorited by our friends and brothers from the lakeside,call it the fresh water beaches though most recently losing its initial allure and feel of late catapulted by extensive hyacinth invasion,a scene that I have watched grow dire ever since being of a single digit age to now attaining a legal age and riding over a decade’s period of grace.
Today hence my fingers have literally itched their tips off in a craving to write something down.I so wished I wouldn’t be picking out detriments or grumbling but rather voicing solutions.Solutions better put into play than voiced to a society of blind men and women covered in a mascara of corruption,competition and a desire for self annihilation .A desire so deep embedded the roots cry fault if not fed with more hunger for fresh or even stinking blood.I mean,more is better and even when more is in lacking then the same old can be used and reused for the fill of our hungry filth,right?
Do I sound angry?No,far be it from me that my fingers would itch from anger rather than an earnest thirst for truth and the birth of an idea of change and true growth.Growth that should have started the moment that little baby broke her mother’s placenta and came forth to open their tiny fragile fingers and instead of warm embrace in rushed the air of strain and struggle.A struggle that God in the least did not intend for such a kind but the same must endure due to its parents faults and wrong choice of path till it grows fully and learns to choose right from wrong.Quite a tough gamble brought to play for it since in most cases their fate is almost always sealed unless they have the will and determination graphite to merge into diamonds despite the heat and pressure applied upon them.
Before I go on so deep am sure you are wondering what patches am talking about by now,the ones who left them am sure you already know.Stopped pointing incriminating fingers yet?You left them and so did I?How so you may ask when you know not even what patches are these that stink so much I don’t want to put a mention or is it finger to them?
Literally they are these patches along the roads purported to have been initially tarmacked roads but now remain a rag of mopping clothe waiting to be carried and thrown off into the litter.Instead of an extreme overhaul however,we have tracks from the county offices sent over the weekend with casual handymen who have no idea in road construction being sent like thieves on a Sunday to pour in stones and soil in the now craters masking the roads.Literal patches of many colors,these however unlike beautiful rainbow colors with scents of flowers and a buzz of bees stink dishonesty and mulnaurishment to an economy already crippled and burdened by foreign debt.
But am sure all these rantings don’t matter till you are sweetly cruising down the road,jeeez why do I even use the word cruise when the fastest you can do on these roads is a 10-20 kph? Yes,you on that snail 10-20 kph when you hear your shocks and car body test the effectiveness of your second hand Japanese car bushes! It is a hard romp without a bed and the result is a broken arm courtesy of beauty patches on the road.Even the bushes throw caution to the wind and give up on you.
Ever felt like when God said come now let us reason together these guys had gone for a holiday and got no memo that we all need to work together and not prosper to the detriment of the weaker persons?
Maybe I rant too much but from my dark black out in a neighborhood having electricity for a fourth to fifth day running I feel like I personally am paying for my sins,sins that were long paid for on the cross yet my choices still bring me back to this stinking outcome.Not that they of the neighbourhood with lights made a better choice though?It is just that today the trees in this monkey’s forest are all wet and slippery,always happens when monkey’s day to die is come. A luck they can’t ride on always you know?
In all essence am trying to remove is the log in my own eyes before removing the speck in another’s eye.Sincerely I need to open up my eyes and see more clearly or maybe un-wax my ears so I don’t miss the sermon of truth along the way chocked by the cares of the world or thorns of my desires.
For a moment I want to know that I am the one who bored these patches so deep they stink from miles off and the next time they glare at me I will know that I am the one who forgot to fix them when i had a chance to.
I will not ask who left these patches even when I know funds were availed for a better dam to hold the raging flooding waters planned to come yet all of it blew up in scandals lost in news reports and papers stuffed down the drain and lost in court rooms covered by lump-sums of stolen money in bribes.So now the lives of un-moneyed low living ballot casters,sorry citizens have to pay for the same decision uninformed or not they made when they chose tribe over sense,sorry,choices I see.
Choices I must make today so that my tomorrow,sorry our children’s tomorrow may be a better smelling scent than the patches f excrement now lining our wake.Because truth be told,enough about me,or you,or my friend,or my brother,or my mother,or my schoolmate,or my village-mate,or my tribes-mate…..enough about all these selfish accolades if all we leave behind is a bad stench uncovered in the patches of our choices.If we are to cover up these patches then we must shift blame to ourselves,learn our mistakes and rise as one to rebuild a brand new nation.
We left the patches.