Tunnel Of Confusion

The fly follow a person who is carrying a smelly stuff and Nigeria is abound with so many such smelly nuisance that nobody knows who is who again. But a grasshopper that is roasting over fire and claiming to be emitting fat will soon realize that a snail that swallows another will have two legs. This is a tale of my chained state.

Chained

Anambra state

Emancipated,

Yet chained to slavery

You try to swim underwater

Away from the shores of tears and suffering in the state

But the undercurrent dragged us towards the land

We heard the put-put-put of the

Stumbling and struggling …

In an attempt to balance the equation  

Our hearts broke in rhythm and seem to jump into our mouth

We staggered as the state blurred

Laughter overwhelmed coherence

“You think you are a prisoner of war?”

“But there is no war”, they shouted

“But there is war”, we muttered

“Justice” at the Supreme Court

A new and disturbing twist to our captivity

After the failure of election manipulation

Fed with prolonged sleep and diet of underdone roasted yam

With hands tied together and put over our knees

We were beaten in a quick succession

First on one side, then on the other

From Mabadinuju and Emeka Offor

To Chris Ubah and Andy Ubah

From arsonist to philanthropist

From presidential aid to monumental fraud

The Anambra cabals are a different breed of species

Now, they want to tie us down and put salt on us

Lay us in the sun while they wipe us again

So that when they are finished

We will be dead

Or if sill breathing

Fenced with barbed wires and chained

Gradual disintegration
All stones ultimately succumb to external and internal abrasion
And the smiling stoned-faces?
Transformed to oppressors of the century
Left lonely and jeered by all
Tears will finally drop from their pores
Long after the wells and taps are dry

As the gravity pulls towards tomorrow
I wondered about our values and tradition
I wondered about our new religion
Their doctrines and contradictions
As I watched the sun
Battle with the dark rain clouds
The unruly wind brings heavy thunderstorm
I pitied the old and the new religion

I

You sound ugly

Just as a word

Your only equivalent is death

You crawl in Unmanned

Unnoticed

Uninvited

Deadly and poisonous

Like a snake

In preparation for an attack

Poverty,

You are … a snake

Or aren’t you

II

You are a deadly virus

Like HIV

You expose one to attack

Insults

Indecency

Insecurity

You make decent families

To live among drunkards

Wife beaters

Prostitutes

And in degrading habitat

Won’t you say no?

III

You signify hunger

Like a bagger

You bring one to shame

You make one to be preached at

Frustrated

Confused

After starving

You left you victims explored

Corrupted and dishonored

Poverty,

You are a betrayer

Or are you denying?

IV

You stink

Just like dirt - your king

With you a whole family and grand parents

Live together in one room

Eating and sleeping

Defecating and fornicating

Sickening and then dying

Privacy is unthinkable

Hygienic food is forgotten

You pollute the air with filth

Filth from cheap tobacco smoke

A suffocating filth?

V

You kill finally

Just like AIDS

You can ask Mbeki

Whether there is any difference

You kill softly

Slowly

Silently

Yet spreading rapidly

You lead to death

The only exit

To our forefathers

Will they welcome you?

Churchill.okonkwo@gmail.com

 I

Transition

Migration

Re-orientation

Integration

Freedom? 

No need bothering yourself with the answer 

If only the wind had not blown away

The corrugated roof of my grand father’s house

I will still have shelter

Where the wandering ghost of my ancestors will be appeased

Am about to start a romance with the foreign gods 

Soon,

Very soon

I will no longer have the privilege

Of listening to the trade marks of Lagos – my Lagos

“Oshodi – Oshodioo-o-o-o!”

“Your side, your side”

“Wole, wolewa” 

I will miss the “Due process” and “Federal Character” principles

I will miss the “fight against corruption”

I will miss the rhetoric from AC – the only party still standing

I will miss Bola Tinubu and the madness of Lagos 

What I will not miss

Is the sipping of my beer ever Friday night

After escaping from the VI and Apapa traffic

I won’t miss the liberty of doing anything and going free

I won’t of course miss my bosom friends

Some of whom have given me list of expectations

As long as the third mainland bridge 

II 

Next week,

I will travel to my village (hoping I will cross the gully erosions along Lagos-Benin road)

To see what is left of my erosion threatened abode

It will be an honour to kill a fowl

Under the cashew tree in my fathers big compound

I will spill the blood on the mother earth

In communion with the gods of my father’s

Who knows? 

Who said the electrons must revolve round the nucleus? 

I will miss Lagos

I will miss Nigeria

I will miss Yar”Adua

I would have loved to watch the drama unfold in Aso Rock

Watch the imbeciles dance to their discordant tones

From Ota Farm and Mina 

III 

When the drums starts to beat again,

Where will you be?

Or have you stopped dancing

Just because the mad bulls are on stage? 

When this transition is over

I hope to get back and rescue my state

From Andy Uba when he tries to make a comeback

I pray my beloved Nigeria will still be intact

When this transition is over

Or will I like the rest of my country men

Who had earlier taken the road am about to follow be lost?

Tufiakwa! 

That is what they all say at the beginning of the transition

Transition to “greener pastures”

From the pastures to the subsurface

Then the evolution

Evolution to acquiring foreign citizenship

Being absorbed in the system where things “work”

Finally reincarnating as visitors to motherland

Until old enough for old peoples home.

Or “until death do us part”? 

Whatever may the dire consequences of this course

The squirrel is at the tail of the palm frond

What is left is “soft” landing

Until then,

Good bye Nigeria  

Although I hope to be back soon  

Churchill Okonkwo

Churchill.okonkwo@gmail.com 

Call it, by its right name my dear

Look through the keyhole as long as you can

No one knows what goes on behind the closed door

We hear sounds

We even heard banging on the table, voices raised

Then silence

This confuses us the more

Everyone I talked to said something must be done

We go back home and pray- or do something close to that

Amen! Amen!! Amen!!!

That’s three times, is it not?

Nothing in this world is meant to last for ever

Queues at the American and British High Commissions

Endless waiting and insults for one month visa

Testimony at the church

The Lord has done it for me

After six long months�

I finally got the visa, praise the Lord!!!

Visa to abandon motherland?

Even for a London cell?

Or for a journey to unknown destination?

Has it gotten that bad?

Things are changing fast but without direction

Prosperity, miracles, breakthroughs

Open doors

Doors that lead to nowhere

Yet the politicians struggle to jump in

Some even steal in through the window

Provided you understand it

Let the world say what it will

Electronic voting is a must come 2007

Rigging will be completely eliminated

So the debate stopped again.

Churchill.okonkwo@gmail.com