Without taking effectual cognizance of his supposed environ, he rode into town wearing a stern face, with the famous traditional red cap glued to his head while he was being welcome with a resounding applause from the sitting audience who are fully anticipating his keynote address for the day. In a blink, there was chaos within the hemisphere of the venue, as some blokes began to complain bitterly about the wanton killings and incessant kidnappings in the South-east geo-political zone, stressing their anger that – there would be no Igbo event in the venue. Puff! All kinds of objects kept flying and sounding aloud, as fierce and mixed concentration of grouses were being deposited on his dark-hard skin.

Oh, he was inflicted with excruciating bitterness within his body system, as he looked up like a yet-to-be-crucified drunkard, to the hazy cloud hovering above without uttering a word. He couldn’t believe his eyes, as the angry IPOB street warlords never cease to abolish their ongoing act perpetrated in broad daylight. “Na dem – he is one of the instigators of the Operation Python Dance wey pillaged and ransacked the South-east region’ wey dem dey use to dey kill our people for our communities and villages for there and him no talk any tin” – one of them uttered in the local parlance. “For your next life, you no go try am again. This one na warning to other Igbo leaders. “We dey wait for dem”, another muttered angrily.

He was at the cynosure of one of the ugliest experience to be inflicted on his person, considering his political status amid the Igbo, as he made a non-achieving attempt to calm the already boiling nerves of the batters, but they were unruly. He was now deeply drenched in the pool of his own random thought. “What have I done to warrant this humiliation?” he thought inside of him. “His once energetic pace to deliver a keynote address dropped in a twinkle, without recourse to his failed strength, while he was quietly smoked out of the venue by the supposed organisers.”

The coherent shrugging off of the guiding principle of the land; the throwing of deaf ears to the wails of the bereaved; the feigning of ignorance to the rule of law; the subversion of the people’s will; the consistent carpeting of looting spree; the deliberate subjection of the custodian of our renascent democracy – are cankerworms folded with prolonged corrupt institutional practices, digging deep into the nation’s democratic fabric.

Presently, everything revolves around an eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth. There is chaos, tension, agitation and bitterness everywhere in the land. And people act more out of strong impulse than reason. The struggle to curb the preponderance of immoralities, abnormalities and negativities in our societal corridor must be challenged with an objective to ameliorate justice and tranquility in order to shun the scourge of chauvinism and bigotry. The siege mentality that cut across the non-institutionalisation of both punitive and palliative measures must be closely and properly addressed through reorientation exercise, and reviews the notion that pitched us against others.

In the advanced democratic floor, there shouldn’t be a gap between the elected public officers and the electorates. The former are responsible for the proper representation of her constituency, territorial or senatorial district of the people and if the people aren’t well attuned or comfortable with his or her representation, then he or she is liable to be subjected to constructive criticism upon which the recent public humiliation can be argued and debated as one of such. Truth be told – the masses are disengaged from the political elite who take leadership for granted, our leaders have lost contact with reality, only to protect their personal interests on primitive accumulation of wealth.

This is democracy. And the citizens are the pivotal reason for the existence and public plays in the course of democratic proceedings. Most Nigerians believed a vast faction of the electorate have been pushed hardly and tightly against the brick wall, for reason(s) best known to them. This is a stern warning to other political jobbers and marauders watching. The citizens are gradually shape-shifting in an attempt to save the land; to rejuvenate our drowning democratic ship to its full energies, without feigning ignorance on the nation’s failed governance.

It was garnered that the former deputy-commander of the Red Chamber stirred the anger of some IPOB batters when he honoured and graced the New Yam festival event all the way from Nigeria, adorning a cloth designed with the famous Nigeria’s Coat-of-Arms instead of a traditional Igbo regalia as a prominent Igbo man. While it is somewhat regarded as a cultural belief system among the black race – that it is expected to cloth oneself in strict accordance to a pre-invited event. Should this be considered as a page-one factor in relation to the psychology of the black race occasions? Your guess is as good as mine. We all know the sanity in us can’t pitch us in appearing in a street jamz donning on suit. You heard me right, huh!

The coherent and consistent muting of our leaders, especially in dire times, are uncalled for and unwarranted; which in turn leads to illicit and unethical display of power from jobbers and marauders willing to plunge the nation into perpetual ruinous days again, as evident in the present conundrum of the Nigerian state. Our leaders are shitting on us. They smile sheepishly at us while their hearts portray the opposite. They proclaimed they are in for our collective interests, yet, the nation is motioning from bad-to-worse.

It is only a matter of time that the frustration, anger, and pains that have accumulated over time in the heart of every youth in the Nigerian enclave will bring down the foundations of that skewed and impoverished system. Nigeria shall soon experience a drastic and dynamic change behind her wheel. Unprecedented happenings are rushing towards our corridors like hurricanes. Yes! It is condemnable, but there are days and there are certain days, and this is an epitome of a certain day upon which Uncle Ekweremadu can’t forget in a flash.

What a smack down!

•Adeyinka writes from Lagos and can be reached via SMS on 08185546555.

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