Sufficiently enervated, I sauntered into rumination of sorts about home. As the old Arik aircraft charged through the rabid mist, the familiar tremble of the 737 never did disappoint. However, this was a better flight than the onward journey. At least this set of air hostesses seemed to smile a bit more.
One brought an extra glass of water and cake; apologizing courteously for lack of entertainment on the flight. On the onward flight, it was hell to speak to any of them.
A pleasant dinner on the night before at Fola’s behest was enjoyable and full of laughs as we tried to catch up. Here was one close friend I revere for his absolute independence. With a PhD to complete later this year, I respected his choices.
However, home was waiting with its ensuing encumbrances. Rebuttals and counter rebuttals filled the political atmosphere. An intense debate of Reuben Abati’s Hypocrisy of Yesterday’s men rendered the social media agog. All Progressive Congress party was launched to refute the monolithic PDP and its legendary brand of political brigandage. At least, the coalition was formed on time despite various selfish political imperatives.
And not to forget, Mallam Nasir El Rufai launched a book. A book that spews so much revelations, political maneuverings and deft drama in high places. But not to worry; we live in a drama laden country as it is.
In the midst of all this, Nigeria still stands. Whether Nigeria will remain so in the next few years remains an intellectual debate that is neither here nor there. Here, I stand on the fence.
However, the country may have already collapsed in the minds of many country men with the little speck of hope remaining thrown to the cesspool. The many victims of our past predicaments and present circumstances have had their hopes dashed with no succor or reprieve in sight.
The lives and families of the many victims of the incendiary Boko Haram attacks, fatal bomb blasts and incessant kidnappings (of both the high and mighty and the lowly and dejected) will never remain the same.
Indulge me to bring this a little closer home. A friend and partner on several business ventures was kidnapped in the frenzied Benin region while on a new project for his newly formed construction firm. This was about six months ago. He is yet to be released and his whereabouts’ still totally unknown.
He has a young wife having gotten married only nine months earlier before his rueful kidnap. He has an aged mother, a worried father, a young wife and three disturbed siblings awaiting his eventual return home. The police have no clue – none at all – of how to bring Lanre Fashesin back home or locate his kidnappers. It’s a terribly awful situation; the type one prays against constantly.
As unsavory as this may sound, there are probably many more stories like this emanating from various little corners of our dear Nation. Eni t’okan lomo as the Yoruba saying goes.
Even the blogger escaped being a victim at the height of the kidnapping ring in the Aba/Owerri axis in late 2010 and early 2011 where one could get kidnapped for #50,000. He escaped back home to the West to take up another job.
At the end of the day, we are all victims. #Victim of life as Femi Kuti succinctly puts it in his 1998 “Shoki Shoki” album. His words, unfortunately, still hold water in the present day.
There is a quiet storm raging in the heart of many Nigerians and all hope seems perpetually lost. We can only hope not for the sake of generations yet unborn.
I pray Lanre Fashesin returns home hale and hearty to the warmth of his wife’s arms and his parent’s and sibling’s love. I pray that our very own private and quiet storm does not overrun us or fester into an impasse of sorts.
Foye.
PS. As is always said “trust once lost is almost impossible to regain”. It’s always better never to lose it. Apologies once again to @toinlicious.