This will be the absolute last time I will be drawn to the travails of the Nigerian polity. Oh well, that is not exactly true: I am talking as a father to a wayward daughter whose exertions on life are deplorable. He would swear he was done and would come back for the GA-zillionth time to render one more treatise on the virtue of ethics and morality. (I may have to revisit this issue sooner than later).
It is not fun fiddling in an endless, bottomless pit of iniquities. Nothing of pleasure comes from ambling on a scathing, dry desert patch, and the only oasis is a cast of mud pit, whose life sustaining minerals you would have to squeeze hard, and awfully hard to run…if you wanted to live…to die another day.
For those of you on the train churning on ‘The One Nigeria’ track, I get you. And for those that are clamoring for a break-up, I get you, too. There is a solution to the wahala…and it is a simple one. You must first agree that the various cultures the white man sowed together, do not belong together. Start there, and then move in any direction with the issues in your back pocket, in your purses, and you will find so much to make you believe that we are strange bed-fellows, and that nothing we will ever do would make us discard that troubling fact to force us to live together.
This is the same eye-popping, very painful viewing of the tapestry of insane colors of different fabrics sewn together to create a masterpiece of one super force. What we have is an idiotic amalgamation of cultures so different in their beliefs and delivery systems even God had bemoaned this sacrilege.
Here’s a second thing you must believe to get this ball rolling to that Four-Cardinal-Point Station in the middle of no-where. This is the crossroads of clear mindedness; you and everyone else on the train would step off the cabooses: You, Mallam Sanusi Dagash, and your harem of beauties must go north. Me, Nwanganga Nwokeoma, and my bevy of umuada, would head south. Tunde Olatunji Oshomole, and his kinsmen would head west. Now that we have clearly marked the boundaries, the dialogue would begin. It must be sane. It must be enterprising in its excerpts to include everyone that had a stake…a dog in the fight, in the original, mournful creation. See? We are getting somewhere. Right?
There are rhythmic quotients in worship…as you would find in a song and dance routine. There are differences in syncopation, is what I am trying to say. This is where you and I would draw the freaking line and would dare you to cross. You see; this is where religion becomes culturized and then weaponized.
The third thing we must all agree on is this: GOD…AND THE WAY OF OUR WORSHIP OF HIM. I will let that sink in. You must wrap your head around that to undo the shackles and fetters holding you down to that distorted, disorderly belief that your freaking religion is supreme to everyone else’s. Who told that cockamamie falsehood? There are rhythmic quotients in worship…as you would find in a song and dance routine. There are differences in syncopation, is what I am trying to say. This is where you and I would draw the freaking line and would dare you to cross. You see; this is where religion becomes culturized and then weaponized.
Some people believe they would make paradise on the ebb and flow of their deranged minds; they would draw arms and kill another of a different faith to propagate a gutter-based mantra and the ideals of an alley cat. Like a basket full of coca leaf: It is harmless when you pluck it. Chew it in that state, and it gives a slight buzz. It is when you process the pesky green stuff that it becomes a hornet, an Africanized bee, and would bite back, fill your head with eddies and give you the heebie-jeebies in strange, mind-blowing vistas. That is crossing the doggone line. You ask a Christian to choose between Jesus Christ and Mohammed and see what he tells you. Ask the same question of a Moslem and see what choice he would make. It is the glaring differences between the two faiths that would cause men to go up in arms. I WILL LEAVE THOSE TO YOUR IMAGINATION: THE DIFFERENCES, THE VERACITY AND PURITY OF THE WORLD’S GREATEST RELIGIONS.
The proceeds should be centralized…in one pot, that is. And since we are both good at creative accounting, we should have a third party, an American or European accounting firm to keep the books.
Here is the fourth item we must agree on; the wells of wealth in the south. This too, is dicey. Just like religion, I wish it could go away, so that you and I would walk away from one another and never look back. But first, we must agree to this one huge aspect, before we would agree on how to divvy-up the proceeds. Consider this: If the crude were embedded in the strata of rocks of the northern states, they would have thrown our asses out. Everyone knows that to be a fact. I have a solution…one that would guarantee satisfaction to the parties involved. The proceeds should be centralized…in one pot, that is. And since we are both good at creative accounting, we should have a third party, an American or European accounting firm to keep the books. There are other adjuncts to this; the oil producing States must have the lion’s share. The people whose lands have been scorched and devastated must be appeased; the reforestation of their deceased lands, and appropriate monetary compensation granted.
It is not rocket science after all. You will be free. I will be free. The roving Fulanis would stay up north in the ranges of cactus.
♦ Film-Maker, Professor Don Okolo, is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is an author of many books.
