Memories, reflections

There is no better time for calculating sobriety than this season of plague. Even the constantly inebriated, from bottles greener than the withered field everywhere, must pause for a moment now. At least, his blood, which courses on dizzying alcohol, must have constant supplies to keep the greenish flow. Bad news: Power-drunk policemen are breaking the bottles and draining the content, in a huge loss to those who tried to keep their On-and-Off Liquor Licence working for them, when government wants us all to stay at home and confront our individual agonies, eyeball-to-eyeball. I watched the viral video of those Lagos officers, doing incalculable economic damage to the owners of the operating shops. Hunger, deprivation, lack and want must have forced the culprits to defy the stay-at-home order of Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu, who himself, despite sitting on billions, daily looks like the cows in Joseph’s dream of seven years of famine, in Egypt and please don’t tell me it’s about his inspiring koro-challenge.

That Egyptian season is here, in nations and homes. Our chickening president, Muhammadu Buhari, depicts the season more than the Lagos CEO. He has always looked like the cattle (no insult meant) in his Daura corral. Those animals always look same in different photo-ops, meant to project the General’s frugally incorruptibility, and they hardly increase in number. Does that not make our leader an unproductive manager? Like that servant with a talent who went burying it, instead of multiplying it like others. That servant failed divine blessing in Genesis 1:28 “And God blessed them (man) and God said unto them, be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth.”

Yoruba will call such a one-talent man, ko pass, ko fail, ko kuro ni kilasi kan na (completely marooned). That is where the world has found itself now. What the keepers of world order thought they had irretrievably settled came down as a pack of lies, like those lying grandstanders in police uniform. Their throats were probably sending a signal of disappointment to their brains and the vexation of being unable to gulp the precious liquid they laid waste showed in the frustration they unleashed on those bottles, crates, et al.

They have become human agents of the destroyer ravaging the land and shores beyond. It is only those in Goshen that shall be saved. Maybe, that was why Papa David Oyedepo gathered thousands at Shiloh in the wake of the epidemic. Winners’ Chapel’s Goshen is in Abuja/Nasarawa State. My daughter used to be there. If the students at the symbolic Goshen were also directed home to avoid the plague, maybe their parents should not have gathered in Shiloh, in reverence, to the all-encompassing faith of their Papa.

But men of God are powerful in their own right sha, particularly those genuinely serving the All-Powerful God, regardless of occasional errors. While the innuendos weren’t lost on the discerning, no government functionary was bold enough to specifically refer to Winners and their Papa in all the official threats, against those disobeying government restriction regulations. Not even Aso Rock vuvuzelas speaking for the paused presidency; not even the muffled megaphone; Barrister Lai Mohammed, (yes, Lai is a lawyer).

In this super-normal season, absurdities will count for passable normalcy.

But Femi Falana (his name connotes one who never minds his business), says legality should not be lost to koro-chaos. Without Quarantine Act of 1926, Nigerians, with a sense of impunity, can step and even piss on any yeye ban and go free, he argued, with backup judicial reference. Our leaders don’t like to pack fecal disposal when still solid enough for parker and broom. That was how the interloping SAN almost went hoarse before Amotekun was backed with relevant laws. So, what do the Attorney General of the Federation and baby AG in states spend their time on, if an “outsider” would have to be doing the reasoning for them at all time? But is Falana really an outsider? Can Magu’s right-hand man be called an outsider in government? Can Osinbajo’s self-confessed friend and confidant be called an outsider? Is a Tinubu’s ally really a stranger to happenings within the power corridor? A thing, however, to the Ekiti governor wannabe’s credit; he stands astride in a way that the public still sees him as an ally, despite allied to government, and this special season has shown that the public and government aren’t not just into any kind of friendship; they are now avowed enemies. Or how do you love the one who celebrates your misfortune?

If those in government go on aggravated offensive when the plague season is over, the humanness in them would want to justify their next roguish acts. Imagine the hate on Twitter and elsewhere against them and the simultaneous eruption of joy from all corners, once another is marked positive. No, that isn’t the man God wants us to be.

Some even said they were ready to hit the streets, reminiscent of July 8, 1998 Sani Abacha’s obituary funfest, once Aso Rock main tenant is either confirmed positive or resting peaceful. Haba! Can’t we take it as the man giving his best and wait for his tenure to end, while praying against further national descent before the baton is passed?

One thing I have tried to isolate in this season is my thought, curtailing it in thanksgiving mode; for everything obviously made possible by God, who is also undoubtedly and globally-acknowledged as “dealing” with His own, this time, with an iron rod. I look back to December 2019 and January 2020; everything that appeared perfect is now in tatters. Every “I will see you tomorrow” now sounds like an elegy. One moment, someone is chummy-chummy around you, the next moment, there is cough followed by a sneeze and he becomes a masquerade you can only peep at with trepidation.

An iconic tweet, captured the past baffling days in a way unlike others: “Everybody, let’s open our eyes and learn from what’s really going on.

In three short months, just like He did with the plagues of Egypt, God has taken away everything we worship. He said, you want to worship athletes, I will shut down the stadiums. You want to worship musicians, I will shut down Civic Centres. You want to worship actors, I will shut down the theaters. You want to worship money, I will shut down the economy and collapse the stock market. You want to go to church for business transactions and connections but not to worship Me, I will even make it where you can’t go. Maybe we don’t need a vaccine, Maybe we need to take this time of isolation from the distractions of the world and have a personal revival.” It is indeed a humbling season for the wise.

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