I am always a very sad traveller on the issues of concern, probably because I have expectations from public office holders that they don’t seem to understand.
The composers of the melodies of solidarity often chide me for attempting to remove moth from another’s cloth without first removing mine, others remind me that charity should begin at home, some even say that my arrogance is nauseating, and the guardians of the gate of tomorrow outrightly earmark me for future persecution, but the cost of speaking is not even lesser than that of keeping quiet, when we are silent an entire generation goes to sleep, a social malady takes a royal robe and dresses itself in the customary fabrics, being greeted on the streets with warm acceptance and even made gracious by nobles who adorn them while inspiring those who look upon them.
Pardon my lazy attempt at Shakespeareanism, my vexatious nap was encumbered by the whether or not of this epistle, and I had hoped that this was not going to be published but howbeit my pen is my master for the most, I am but a consumed fellow, and for this I must resume my role as an accidental crusader.
for most of our journalist have eaten from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they have forsaken their oath, them too must benefit from the national cake or summit to the preservation of friendship and so truth can be put to sleep.
Our journalist are in bed with the very evils of society, their loyalties are engulfed in brown envelopes, their identity is now clear, some are card carrying members with open political baises, they’ll leave radio stations,TV houses straight to political offices, eager for recognition and recommendations, they’ll be quick to use their wealth of experience on a teenager like me, but have failed to raise any issue of concern whilst our state continue to thrive in the Injustices, prejudices and sentimenalism of power holders and brokers regardless of the institution.
Our journalist have been beaten to submission, not even one of them with an unnerving name anymore, oh well one
said he was fearless reporter but he jumped into the murky waters of Alumni politics, and soon he revelled in the desperation for power, he was quick to advocate for fairness and justice within the political party, he was a crusader for the respect for agreements and conventions, but when he was offered the temptation of becoming President of his Alumni association, he forgot about the ethics of honoring pacts, he betrayed his own brother and Senatorial District, he calls his paramount ruler unprintable names, he disparages and dismisses the governing council of the University that helped him bagged a PhD, like a child of perdition, spat on the Holy communion right after he was fed by it.
He now roams the Internet juggling his brain looking for more infantile words and whom to heap it on, sorry to see how the mighty had fallen, indeed who would have expected Peter to betray Jesus? Not even Judas, not even saint Augustine”.
Today’s class is over, But before you leave me in my morning dose of melancholy, let us not forget to stop by the Home for some quality “ARABIAN TEA” the very many benefits of this new aphrodisiac is immense, thanks to the great advertorials by the special appointee perhaps he must be a super hero to constantly multi task between the sacred task of being a Special Adviser on digital economy or whatever the name is, and constantly posting his businesses, he must be unaware of what conflict of interest portends, really nice.
We play too much in Cross River State, I had Imagine what the youths of Lagos State would have done? When one who is expected to provide leadership treats his office with such disrespect, we don’t have to all be silent.
This is a democracy and there is need for some decorum for public officers, but we are a people of perhaps outstanding cupidity, we must therefore need more Arabian Tea especially for the great benefits rather than brainstorm on ways to create a digital economy for the youths.
Lest I forget, they say charity begins at Home,and then to the leadership of the youth Council, this must be very intriguing, another version of political jackasses, selling the intent form for such a ridiculous price, when they have most of it’s members who are not only notably being excluded from the political discourse but largely unemployed.
They have made it a duty to exploit themselves and commandeer another conversation of the ridiculous. Build the youth! Build the nation!
We are not going to be surprised when the elections are marred by outright irregularities, violence, factionalised and even imposition of candidates with untoward subjection of due process.
The generation ahead of us is bent om making a mockery of the quality of thinking we have as Young people, we are sadly constrained to watch the macabre dance of shame.
In all angles they’re working really hard to outdo themselves.
The other charlatans won’t let us rest with unending press releases, compelling the President to reinstate a certain former student union leader who took centre stage only to commit in a larger stage, the very sins her contemporaries have sacramented as good for the most.
Her media handlers have grown from the subtle to the ridiculous, no one cautioned her while she held sway at the ministry of health, no one stood up to her while she ungraciously outdid her boss as director in the ministry, some say this is karma but this is bad history, another addition to the lack of modesty and decorum we have refused to adopt as young people in Cross River.
Some say that is not the problem, the problem is in the recruitment process, it seeks to priotise mediocrity over competence, those who have no core substance have mastered the art of “Yesir” and endered themselves to the power brokers beyond the expected, making those with substance appear unworthy and proud, the recruitment process favours them, so they have walked themselves to centre stages to do nothing but sell ARABIAN Tea to their friends and playmates, while they seat on the highways to name those of us who will never be loyal, for further obliteration into oblivion.
We are not a serious people, when we are, we will ask some hard questions.
Happy Weekend
*Victor Egba*
Writes from Calabar
