RedEyeDiary. Vol II

It’s hard to admit, but misery still flourishes in my time. Nature and Government have both refused to co-operate or at least show a sign. The past months have been bleeding; forcefully, thought has deepened. Imagine my black pair of shoe, my black suit too have developed some sluggish for me; I feel so in my mind. They wear a sad look whenever I have them on. Upon them my eyes gaze for a moment with my head tilted facedown after been told no employer after employer. Lol, my attire feel it’s their fault am turned down; they are moody too. Thereby, diminishing my shine and impact in other spheres of life; re-evaluating me against my will, reducing my confidence and cravings.

I lost three relationships last year, 2014; more sadly one the year before, 2013. Most of them black. Skinny, wide shoulders, just tall like I would. The oldest thirty-three; crazy girl, after her eating meal there is need for septrin. All their problems were the same, it only had a different approach; feminine reason has evolved, they demand half the consideration in advance, or they seek in plain words void of any ambiguity, a statement in lieu of the said consideration. Failure would construe or most likely translate into stingy or broke depending on the context; right then her hearts reopens to other bidders (home or abroad, online or facee) as prospective merchandise.

Hennessy, eight thousand; what of her wine, and then the mixers? Or should I suggest beer? How can, in a club, besides it’s our anniversary. I hear the laughter of my adversaries. Okay! Thirteen thousand Nigerian naira about to leave my wallet, calmly about to make it’s way to this girl in white shirt, and a funny bowtie all for a four-hour loud music, body rubbing and emission of sweat session. We agree it’s worth all the while. Ama burst a rubber-band just for a smile with mine. We also agree that the satisfaction of the moment will replicate several subsequent times. I’ll care less about the post-chill catastrophe; the tears and the tissues. We’ll endure each and every single issue.

The bulb in the common-room is faulty, she’s been faulty about six months; well, that’s long I have moved into this hostel. But really who cares? Electricity won’t come anyway; why destroy the spider’s web? Funny how these old folks keep recycling themselves in public office. Shameless dads risking hell for an eight letter laughable word POLITICS. The past administration kept on eluding me, till I lost sight of a bright ladder they kept. How then can I climb to the top or at least out of this pit? This box-trolls-type existence has got me tripping. Lower than the earth crust seems really low. My 3GB memory is full, I got a lot on my mind, I need these grass burning; my thighs are clapping, I need this calm am yearning.

Watched my beard grow so as to get my Arab on, all in a bid to mingle with these white folks. I heard their dollars is still top, and still in circulation, means I can get me some. Pimpin aint easy! Moreso, Lagos is no joke. School fees on the rise like fuel price in the south-east; need for two kids arise. Naira is as clueless in the world stage like the Military in the north-east; hence their morale demise. The far Chinese negotiate for the generators and the rechargeable lanterns, generous we, with utmost gratitude negotiate the funds, provide the inmates, and accommodate the sub-standards. ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THE GOVERNMENT & PEOPLE OF NIGERIA

‘give us our daily bread’ on repeat. Less instead of more is seen with the eyes, need to doubt divine promises arise. See faith running north, in it’s place dark clouds stay. Tear drops dripping down a grown up’s face like he owns Barbie. Palms wet but active drying up tears working like a traffic warden. Hurt so glaring cobbams can see. However, to God’s glory it’s not noticed from afar, guess because I spilled it all in a jar; a green one. First name Shame, last name Less. Long walks to nowhere, no good looks to attract our visual senses, nothing brings fear, never known care, none-the-less our pride we secretly held near, save for moments we could not but cry. Oh dear!
The preacher says ‘do no worrying, rather trust in Thou above’ why then exist the capacity to worry? We guess it’s something to do. How can a poor preacher argue the Creator brings wealth? How can refusal to worry fused with attracting desire, indemnify this despair and if it pleases, rebuild this torn out soul, or at least replace these lost hours in whole?

‘give us more life’ on repeat. Less instead of more is seen with the eyes, need to doubt divine promises arise. Yet we desist from all noble acts and omissions then offend the Creator. We murmur, regardless we refuse loyalty to an imitator. Sundays, we shall; weekdays, we may. Up and doing we declare been soldiers of a cause. ‘bring in the wandering ones’ is the new designation. For once there is life, there is hope. A dead Cardinal cannot make Pope. Oya! Off the stool I go, I’d rather spread cloths with this rope. @ndubuisimonchie

One Vote

One Vote

I pledge my support to a PDP led continuation of government next month. For the purpose of this support in form of an article, we stand for the truth, with the best known information available to us. Our main source of reason is common sense.

Other than history, why power is in the hands of this man Jonathan I cannot tell from this room, however what is correct is that recent history tell us a bunch of elderly men (wealthy men) from across Nigeria sat, and decided to allow authority to General Olusegun Obasanjo in 1999.

The General won and became the first ever to be a PDP national leader. Invariably meant he put a look on the face of “PDP” as an entity or an institution. The founders of the Party are however some notable Nigerians, but the commander-in-chief was General Obasanjo. He gave PDP a look, wore her first dress, henceforth PDP became what he willed; disobedient, oppressive, and annihilated the opposition. Olu Falae is barely in the prints. What next?

The General turned to within PDP and tore it apart, fought his vice with the might of his office, at this point there was Baba’s camp and V.P’s camp. Everybody knew whose camp all the juice was. At this stage there was hate and envy springing up everywhere. Full stop…

Now there was change of power, hands turned, likewise there was transfer of love & hate to successors of offices; adding up with processes of election/selection/appointment of The General’s immediate successor in office, President Yar’adua, his death and subsequent assumption of office by President Jonathan who then inherited all the hatred of a reduced “northern term” in power, with other issues that flow naturally as a result of succession.

The opposition is wealthy, they have access to front pages also, so they make a mountain out of trash, and sell such to us that are
fully settled in ignorance.

Boko Haram:
Your dailies have said it all, however I think it’s difficult to stop somebody who wants to kill himself, you are sending soldiers to kill able bodied young men and ladies who have resolved to die, all they are talking about is where and when; the how is a loud sound. What should the President do?

Nobody is seeing all those new electricity distribution cable points been erected as you travel across the states; how many planes do we have? or you were sleeping in the bus, or you were afraid of an accident you didn’t notice. But I guess you notice Onitsha-Abuja is almost dual carriage. Before I left a greater part of Victoria-Island was been wired, new electric poles are visible and workers are on ground. Ibusa-Asaba road is currently witnessing similar visible installation of distribution line projects.

It isn’t as if the opposition would not work, they may, but changing government is not advisable at this point, a new government will revoke all these contracts and projects, it will stall progress which is in itself slow to arrive at.

All those nepa transformers that blew up when we were growing up, that were never fixed nor replaced, what do you think happened? Is it President Jonathan that was the directors who raised invoices for repair/maintenance and proceeds channeled to pay school fees of some of our friends abroad, was that Goodluck Jonathan or his privy?

I have not felt any fresh air, at all, but I refuse to believe fresh air is far. Do not throw away the baby with the bath water, He didn’t cause PDP like this, he inherited it. Vote right.

Thank You.