Thursday, 10 April 2014

I Sit & Wait.


Wow... 27th of November 2013. That’s the last time I posted a piece on here. Obviously, someone has been extremely lazy coming here. Or could it be I’m yet to be inspired on anything other than the usual inefficiency of this society to write about?

A lot has happened since 27th of November 2013. To mention a few, I welcomed a baby boy (who whenever is set eyes upon is said to be an exact replica of me...I be like....of cos....duh!) into my family in January, celebrated my wife’s birthday in March, and myself yesterday with friends and family. However, recently, I was somewhere and boy, did I get inspired to write!

It's a short one guys, please enjoy!











I sit and wait.

I siiiiiiiiit and waiiiiiiiiiiiit.


As I sit and wait, thoughts come across......mannerisms of dismay take display. Oh my country, oh my Nigeria...

With the heat lies an endless queue, an endless queue in a small room, clothed of navy suede blazers, russell & bromley sandals, coffee leather loafers, jimmy choo handbags and aphrodisiac colognes. A queue visible of a resilient but yet aggressive middle class, a handful of elites in society and an un-grouped many. We altogether waiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!

As this queue grumbles and its heat gathers momentum, I say to myself, I might be one of many un-selectable of a class to be grouped in this room. Or where would you place a five-digit pay check earner who has to be husband to a wife, father to his kids and still, guarantor for many? Yet, we altogether waiiiiiiiiiiit!

Some are left no choice but to stand, others fill the few seats using envelopes to fan themselves, pregnant women are given no preference; yet, we all decide to waiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

By the corner of the room are two broken down air-conditioners.. Three technicians stand over them, screwing and un-screwing, pacing and steering, trying to find solution to the heat. And then all of a sudden, without any form of warning, one technician pulls out a spray gun and flushes dirt out of the air-conditioner. The pressure gets russell & bromley sandals, navy suede blazers and jimmy choo handbags docking away to avoid getting wet.

The clerks offer no apologies. Guards at the door continue fiddling with their smartphones as they usher more people in and show no remorse............yet we all continue to waiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

I sit and wonder, a few others like me shake heads and ponder......oh my country, oh my Nigeria. Suddenly, as I take out my blackberry to write, the name for which I came is called. I jump off to the counter.

Yet, they all still continue to waiiiiiiiiiiiit; wait without choice, without favourable response to complaints, without a choice to revolt, without no choice at all.

Why do they wait? They wait to pick up passports after applications to visit the United States of America.

They allllllllllllllllllllllllllll just continue to wait!!!!

Oh Nigeria, oh my country.

Jide Alara.

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