I have been preparing to this day, the 16th of February, for the election to come. The topic of election should be peace to all Nigerians. At every time an election is to take place in Africa and African soil, no body will go to sleep till the election is announced. I was part of the people who cried and kept crying that peace take part of the country Nigeria.
I went down to pray, as that morning I remembered how I was relayed the story of the past victory which cost the families a lovely uncle.
I could still remember he was the one who took me to Nwafor Orizu College Of Education, to start my journey as a teacher. And as years passed I was on the way to doing my masters degree in university of Nigeria, Nsukka.
I was dreaming... I was in my house dreaming. I really dreamt. I heard a song...
I heard the song, once and I began to pray... I prayed with my heart.... I kept praying...
That morning, I arrived at the school, to have my lecture on policy on education. The professor loved talking and I loved him for that. I loved him the same as a father. I was at the canteen eating fried fish with Obioma and Stella when my phone ranged, and my joy seemed ruined.
I listened two days ago as goodluck became the president of the country.
When the call came, I was told there was a riot In funtua, where the present president came from. The people were not happy and so rioted resulting to the death of an uncle....
Banned is a good man and I could tell, he should have been a better lecturer than spending all his energies on law alone. He was a good story teller.
Days, I still remember him telling me how he in 1967 to 1970 fought from the Biafra land with their new out lawed president Ojukwu. He was at good at it. He went to the war willingly and was well trained. Those who were not well trained died in the fight. They could not hide from the bullet.
He thought he would die in the battle but God saved his life. On his death, he could not be recognized because he was burnt beyond recognition.
When 2019 election came no one wanted to have another crisis again. Not again. Never again. We would all vote for the Buhari. Though God has tourched our heart to forgive and have a change of life... I still wanted to hear the story of riots and I kept writing. So I and others could have peace.
I was at Onitsha, but I was praying for those in the north of Nigeria. I made up my mind to vote him.
I had been on the Facebook where I interacted with another president, the publisher of Sahara desert reporters. I was filled with joy that a writer could be president.
It's a drama, and drama that I have been praying to wake up from. I was the agent to the party I met at the Facebook.
That morning, I cast my vote with people praying for thank you envelope so they could vote... Some sold their right to question the leader. Some with a bag of rice... Some didn't sell their vote... I just voted and went home.
By the corner is the police man, who takes care of the protection of the people enjoying a good meal. He is not Nigerians salvation agent.
By the wall, is written , we are lost. I am at home, I am not lost and found. Yet, I accepted that Nigeria is lost. I gave the words to others and they told me to keep the dream of unendless sleeping. The country messiah will be born two thousand years to come.