Because I Care #23
I am running for president but I will say this. Nigerians like cheap things. Cheap electricity, cheap petrol, cheap kerosene, cheap bride price. That is why all the decent girls from my part of the country get taken by men from places where they pay an arm, a leg and a year’s wages to get married. Because my people marry very cheaply.
Our country is run down. So we do not complain when we take expensive vacations to Dubai, London or Malta. We pay up when the roads are good, the internet is fast, and the power is constant. And where we can buy nice, high quality products produced in China.
I really do not understand why non-Redeemed Nigerians are up in arms about the Daddy General Overseer of the Redeemed Christian Church of God asking 10 people to donate 1 billion each and others to bring 100, 50, 20 or 10 million for his new 3km auditorium. Did the Bible not say, in my father’s (daddy’s) house there are many mansions? Do mansions come cheap? I have not been there but I hear heaven is even better than London or Dubai. There will be no need to constantly queue up for a miracle or blessings. Life in heaven is itself a miracle. (Like I said before I haven’t been there, so don’t quote me.) But if a man is offering spaces in heaven where the roads are paved and there is neither sickness nor death, is it unreasonable to ask individuals to donate as much as 1 billion naira each? If you had 1 billion to spare, would you not invest in eternal life?
Nigerians should quit complaining and start donating. To righteous auditoriums. Or to my presidential campaign if they are not sure of making heaven. I am offering a little less- only schools, and roads and hospitals and electricity and taps flowing with condensed milk (terms and conditions apply) but as a human you can agree that this is a worthy cause. God bless you as you donate.
So Miss Oprah Winfrey got some unpleasant treatment last week when a shop attendant wouldn’t give her a bag that cost 38,000 dollars. Maybe my legal training is messing with my sympathy but certain questions precede empathy in my mind: What was Oprah wearing? Did she take an expensive bag to the shop or a cheap one? Did she go to the shop straight from her morning jog, looking all sweaty? Was she wearing a cheap scarf? I ask because hey, if I drive a smoking beat-up beetle or Golf 3 to a Coscharis showroom asking if they have a Bugati, chances are they will not take me seriously. They may even ask me nicely if I have heard of Cotonou where I can find amazing offers on used but new-looking cars. Again, Oprah should tell us the truth. Is she upset because the shop attendant didn’t watch her show and consequently couldn’t recognize her and suddenly scream at the sight of one of the richest women in showbiz? The truth is, I hardly watch her show myself and may not recognize her if she walks into my campaign office. I only know the other one, the funny white one married to a beautiful woman. What’s her name again?
Thursday was one of the lowest points of my campaign trail. I was taught a bitter lesson in humility. Traffic in Abuja came to a standstill when Nigerian women filled Eagle Square and the streets around wearing ashoebi with Goodluck Jonathan’s face on it. They sang and danced for my opponent. They showed him love. As I was stuck in traffic, tears came to my eyes because I suddenly realized that this was a message. I honestly thought women loved me; I thought I had Nigerian women covered. If my opponent can conscript so many women to sing his praises in a city I live in, then I still have a lot of work to do. I don’t know what Goodluck told you dear women, but it is just the words of a cat expressing interest in the longevity of a rat. Nothing good can come out of it. And never trust a man that always wears a hat. He is bound to be hiding something. I do not wear a hat or even glasses. And as my future campaign posters will show I am far better looking. If you need to look, check my Facebook page. What more do you want from me, dear Nigerian women? What do I need to do for you to dance for me, come 2015?
Ps. In the early hours of Friday morning, I was stopped and frisked by men of the Nigerian Police Force. In my mind this was routine, considering how late it was. However, upon finding no reason to further delay me, one of the men proceeded to say he suspected me because the hour was ungodly. I took offence at the suggestion that he could pass any moral judgment on what time I choose to carry out legitimate business and a verbal fight ensued with sprinklings of threats to my person and suggestions of my being a criminal. After an hour of screaming, unsavoury words and threats, I finally went my way. The Nigerian Police has a long way to go in its relationship with citizens. In a time when the security situation of the country gets worse by the day and crucial intelligence is required also from citizens, the Police should not alienate itself from the people by harassing civilians going about their lawful and private business.
Ps. 2. Oprah should calm down jo. What would she do if what happened to me in an Austrian restaurant happened to her- while I was making selections of food at a buffet, a waitress looked at my big black mass and thought to tell me that I should take only what I could eat?