Thursday, December 03, 2015

Being a Nigerian

I had hired a Keke Marwa, taken two Okada; in search of fuel for my 10-litre jerry can. With the sun at its peak. No electricity, but high bill and sleep for my people is hellish without ventilation.
So there was no particular reason to be patriotic.
But there it was...
There was lump in my throat, a swelling in my chest and it was all I could do not to stand at attention and salute (bloody civilian) as it went slowly, but majestically, by:
An Army convoy: wicked-looking vehicles, apocalypse-like guns mounted (Gatlin, I think) and soldiers standing straight as a rod.
It soon went out of sight and, sweating under the raging sun, I continued my hunt. Total that was rescuing us from shysters suddenly decided not to sell to any one carrying jerry cans in a bid to curb supply to black marketers. So my tour ended up with, yes, same black marketers: N200 a litre.
And those soldiers? I don't know o. But I am certain that the Chibok girls are not anywhere near my house and Sambisa Forest is up North!

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