#WisdomTablets (10)

Fake Life Hurts the Bearer
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than It Does to Other Person
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It might sound weird or untrue, but the gospel
truth remains that fake life hurts whosoever
that possesses it far more than it would hurt
any other person around him or her. In other
words, if you harbour a certain attitude or
quality that is fake, its existence would
continue to hurt your person than it would hurt
some other persons you had succeeded in
deceiving with the lifestyle.

This revelation implies that there is no tangible
benefit attached to a fake life; rather, on the
contrary, it might end up ruining your personality
that you would wish to have remained unborn. Such
a lifestyle does not only ridicule the bearer's
personality but goes a long way to bring his/her
family name to a state of mockery.

The intriguing aspect of fake life is that no matter
how much you try to pretend, or conceal the aberration,
sooner or later, the truth would be revealed as against
your wish. And the moment it becomes known to your
partner, friend, relative, or associate, as the case may be,
every respect they have reserved for you ab initio would be
withdrawn without much ado.

So, why live a fake life since it would definitely mess your
personality up in the long run? It is good to be REAL,
because a realist is invariably closer to nature. And anyone
that relates with nature, would always remain GREAT. The
fact is that Nature itself abhors anything FAKE. Hence,
endeavour to throw those fake behaviours to the waste-bin
because that's where they belong. Please, be real because
it pays! #ThinkAboutIt     

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Okorocha, the Proposed LG Polls and Imolites

OKOROCHA, THE PROPOSED LG POLLS AND IMOLITES

        

The last time I checked, another period had been scheduled for the long awaited local government elections in Imo State by the state governor, Chief Rochas Okorocha. According to the disclosure, the expected period is now between September and October 2017 as against the earlier proposed period that entailed January 2017.

       

The governor disclosed this during his warmth interaction with all the practising journalists in the state penultimate week – precisely on Monday 10^th April 2017 – at the Nigerian Union of Journalists (NUJ) Press Centre situated at Port-Harcourt Road, Owerri. The information therein reportedly brought a fresh anxiety among the well-meaning individuals, particularly Imolites, in the midst of the teeming professionals. It suffices to say that the members of the gathering were filled with mixed feelings.

        

It is not anymore news that Imolites had since the emergence of Chief Okorocha as the governor of the Eastern Heartland in 2011, been anticipating the emergence of elections that would usher in substantive chairmen of the existing twenty-seven (27) Local Government Areas (LGAs) in the state. Though frantic pledges had been made in that regard, the situation keeps introducing a mirage unabated as the odyssey progresses. The immediate past governor of the state, Chief Ikedi Ohakim came up with what could be best described as a ‘façade’ in the name of LG polls.

        

It’s noteworthy that it is not only in Imo that such scenario is witnessed. To the best of my knowledge as well as that of those who are keenly concerned over the uncalled tradition, countless states across the length and breadths of the federation are harbouring the anomaly. In some of them, Local Government (LG) bosses are known and addressed as ‘Sole Administrators’ whilst some go by the name ‘Transition Committee (TC) Chairmen’. Several Nigerians, especially true activists, have been deeply and sincerely troubled over the issue that is seriously telling on the country’s polity at large.

        

Among the three constitutionally recognized tiers of governments in Nigeria, the LG system remains the only one that touches the grassroots directly. And, we are not unaware that if the grassroots are sidelined while discussing issues bordering on governance, the deliberation would definitely end up yielding virtually nothing in the long run. This is so, because it is only the LG that can provide the painstaking list of the names of all the electorate, both alive and dead, in any locality.  

        

The LG is the voice of the people; it is the avenue through which the masses reach the umbrella government; it is the only tier of government that can hear directly from the electorate; it is the means through which the people can cry and their tears would get instantly to the doorstep of the individuals at the helm of affairs; it remains the sole platform on which the masses can stand and they would be seen by everyone in all nooks and crannies. Hence, it’s a system that cannot be easily relegated to the background, or swept under the carpet, if the needful must be referred to.

         

To this end, if the truth needs to be told, from my candid point of view, the long-awaited LG polls are the only debt the Rescue Mission Administration ably led by Governor Okorocha, owes the teeming Imolites. Payment of the said debt remains inevitable owing to its exemplary nature. It’s a debt that is meant to be paid by the government if everything must be gotten rightly.

        

The governor has succeeded in proving to Imolites beyond reasonable doubts that he is a compassionate leader; he has equally proven beyond doubts that he possesses a great passion for education, which remains the bedrock of any anticipated societal uplift. Thus, what is left of his person to showcase in the state is true and thorough democracy.  A democratic setting cannot be said to be complete if the LG system is not taken seriously. Needless to state that it’s high time the amiable and highly revered governor concluded every bit of his lofty motive for the overall people of the state.

        

Now that a new period has been announced for the polls in question, although no specific date yet, let’s assume no period was previously scheduled for the exercise; hence, I urge Imolites to remain hopeful, and prayerful too, till the needful is duly done. Inter alia, we are expected, either individually or collectively, to continually remind the governor on the promise he made not just to Imolites, but the entire world. Our concern at the moment ought to lie on how to put our acts together towards witnessing hitch-free and credible elections come September cum October 2017. As the popular Igbo adage would say, ‘Osita di nma, ekele chukwu’.

         

On his part, I enjoin His Excellency to take this mandate very seriously so that no inconsequential story would be told when the awaited era eventually arrived. Imolites do not apparently need stories, either long or short, any more; rather, desperately in need of manifestation of that executive pledge tendered by the people’s governor on that fateful sunny day.

         

Owelle has obviously done well, but he must acknowledge that the continued postponement of the LG polls is making his well-celebrated administration seem not unlike a paradox. In view of this frank assertion, it’s therefore needless to reiterate that the time to act is now. Think about it!

Comrade FDN Nwaozor

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ShortStory I Broken Jinx (II)

BROKEN JINX (II)

        As Chima Okere, who left Calabar, Cross River State for Abia State that Saturday evening to check on his old mum Madam Ndozi, walked into his family’s lounge, he observed without much ado that the woman in question had been in sorrowful mood considering the look on her aged face; her countenance was pale and moody as her shoulders were calmly held by Emeka. “Mama, what is it?” he inquired, standing by the entrance.

        There was absolute tranquility all over.

        Chima walked closer to them. “Mama..?” he dished out.

       “My son.” she said. “You are welcome.”

       “I said, what is it?” He reiterated, ignoring her welcome note.

       “Ask your brother.” she answered, pointing at Emeka.

       “Emeka, what is the problem?” he said, stood still, not minding to include any mark of respect in the name.

        He was the fourth child of the parents; in order words, Emeka deserved some respect from him. Though he used to address him as ‘Brother Emeka’, it seemed he found no need of observing any protocol.

       “Won’t you sit down?” Emeka urged tenderly.

        He managed to sit on one of the single upholstery chairs sited directly opposite them. “So, what is wrong?” he insisted, looking perturbed in his brownish caftan.

        “I don’t know why mama is disturbing herself unnecessarily.” quoth Emeka.

        “Disturbing herself?” Chima enquired.

        “Yes,” replied Emeka. “She keeps saying, get married, get married as if marriage is all and all.”

       “My son,” Madam Ndozi interrupted, fixing her eyes on Chima. “That is not even the issue.”

        Chima was calm, remained attentive.

       “He said he wants to travel abroad again.” She eventually notified.

        The information abruptly changed Chima’s mood. While looking at him, you needn’t be told that things were no longer at ease; he instantly frowned and got his eyes fixed on his elder brother as if his mother just announced that he (Emeka) was his rival.

        “Why are you looking at me that way?” Emeka broke the silence.

        “Why have you decided to bring shame upon this family?” Chima uttered unequivocally.

        “How dare you address me in such manner?”

        “How else did you expect me to address you?”

        “It’s okay, it’s okay.” The septuagenarian mediated.

        “Mama, let me tell this man here who he is,” said Chima. “Let me inform him that he had caused us enormous pains already since he is yet to know.”

        Emeka furiously stood up. “I can see you don’t have any respect for your elder brother again.” He asserted.

       “Elder brother my foot.” Chima responded, equally stood up.

       “I said, it’s okay.” Madam Ndozi shouted.

        Despite the old woman’s effort to avoid the foreseen fire, one thing led to another, within a twinkle of an eye a serious fight ensued between the two brothers. In the process, their mother contracted a cardiac arrest and therein gave up the ghost. Chima, on his part, sustained a severe cut and was rushed to a nearby hospital with the help of Emeka and other relatives who dashed to the compound on hearing the pandemonium.

        “Where am I?” Chima enquired right from the hospital bed the moment he regained consciousness at about 8:45pm.

         Beside him were Emeka and a few of his relatives.

        “You are in the hospital.” Emeka replied.

        “Why?” he said. “What happened?” he added, paused. “Where is mama.” He supplemented in a jiffy.

        “Don’t worry,” one of the sympathizers enjoined. “You will be fine okay?” He said just to divert his attention from the finding regarding his mother’s whereabouts.

        There and behold at about 9:15pm, his beloved wife – Chiamaka – who came all the way from Calabar on hearing the incident, walked into the hospital room only to see his hubby surrounded by both familiar and strange faces. “What happened to him?” she inquired as soon as she got to Chima, looked bemused.

        “My wife, calm down okay?” one of the kinsmen conscientized.

        On hearing the voice, Chima looked up, saw Chiamaka and became so pleased and relieved.

        She became sparingly calm, rolling her palms on Chima’s entire body while taking her time to observe each of the men present in the room. Before she could finish with the observation, she got profusely shocked on catching the sight of Emeka; his facial outlook appeared to her like that of a monster. “Oh my…God..,!”” she screamed.

       “What is wrong?” Everyone, including Emeka, chorused.

        The intriguing aspect of the said observation was that Emeka had once raped Chiamaka sometime in the past when she was still a maiden. The incident occurred when the former was yet to leave Nigeria for Germany; he had really lived a dirty life before he travelled abroad. The ungodly act, carried out in the company of his fellow gangsters, took place in an uncompleted building situated in one of the rural localities in the state.

        Since Emeka was deported, he was yet to meet with Chiamaka who had been indisposed, and the latter couldn’t notice him via pictures among other photographic materials ever since she got married to Chima.

        “What is wrong, dear.” Chima managed to utter.

        “I know this man.” She said, cruelly pointing at Emeka.

        “That is Emeka, my elder brother,” informed Chima. “The one who returned from Germany.”

        “He was the man who raped me,” she revealed strongly. “You remember the incident I told you about?”

          Chima nodded, remained attentive.

         “This your so called brother here is the monster behind it.”

         “What…?” Chima shouted at the top of his voice.

           Everyone was trapped to the ground. Emeka, on his part, could best be described as a ‘living corpse’. He never saw it coming; the funniest part was that he never recollected Chiamaka as one of the ladies he had in his net. 

          The revelation indicated that Emeka was truly under a spell as his late mother presumed. The aforementioned victim had vowed that whosoever that was involved in the act would never see peace in his life for eternity. The unfortunate event which occurred about seven years back had remained a nightmare in her entire life, thus she kept renewing the spell every moment she recalled it.

        After all said and done, she was left with no option than to forgive him having received countless pleas in that regard, including those of Emeka who eventually embraced remorse and repentance.

        Few months later, Emeka retraced his steps to Europe; this time, he chose Italy. Within some months stay in the country, he became transformed financially and otherwise. But it was so painful his poor parents never lived up to that moment; although he finally made it, the thought of the fact that he contributed to their demise kept witch-hunting his person.

** The End **

FDN Nwaozor

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