How does this picture make you feel?

I have been meaning to post this picture for months but in the course of my pre-New Year cleanup I came across the magazine in which it was originally printed- The Sunday Times Magazine of Feb. 10, 2008. In the spirit of not putting off what can be done today etc etc I decided to put it up straight away.

In my humble opinion if this chap really needs a bodyguard I am sure he can afford to get one. There are quite a few of the private security\bodyguard firms in existence. My issue is that not only is a member of the Nigerian Police Force - fully funded and trained by the Nigerian taxpayer - holding an umbrella over this chap's head but in the meantime somewhere in the Lagos metropolis said Nigerian taxpayer is getting robbed, brutalised, murdered for lack of a proper Police force.

It does not take long to be in Lagos for one to become used to the literally hundreds of private cars with a member of the Police Force in the front passenger seat. Meanwhile crime continues to ebb and flow and lives continue to be lost around them like so much debris.

If private citizens do want a personal service why does the force not create a private security unit which they can then charge handsomely for? Why take away the limited resources from the masses for the sake of a privileged few who can afford it?

There was recently a robbery at the bank across the road from us that took over an hour. Two bank staff were murdered and as far as I can determine the were not really challenged by any sort of Police response yet when you get to the Lekki roundabout about a mile up the road you will see all the RRS vehicles that Fashola has funded as well as an armored truck!! From what we gathered later the robbers numbered 8 in number. Even with their "sophisticated" weapons would they have been able to overcome a force of say 50 policemen? Yet you will find that in Lekki Phase 1, within a two mile radius of the crime, there must be over a hundred policemen guarding the private houses of expatriates and other big men.

Have we not truly lost the plot?

P.S- I was at the Civic Centre last week when Atiku arrived in a convoy amid a cacophony of sirens and at least 20 police officers. Surely if he is that afraid for his life and well being he should leave the country for safer climes? How about his multi million dollar mansion in Washington DC allegedly paid for by Siemens through his wife's account? I wonder if the Americans will provide him with a 20 policeman convoy?

Touch

A hug tight
Embrace warm
Spark electric
Raising hair
Deep sighs
Warm thighs
Long gazing
Auburn eyes
Silky strands
Woven hair
Sniff nectar
Mingle and tingle
Moan and purr
Fingers trailing
Spine tingling
Lava burn
Brow sweaty
Toes curl
I awake ruffled
Floating and gasping
For a
TOUCH.

KEEPING UP THE ACT.

And in the end
What are we
But actors in a play
On a stage where we are thrust
Into the blinding spotlight
Where we spout our lines unrehearsed
Surrounded by other actors
Most total strangers
With whom we try to sync together
This yarn called life

And how often do we have to change our roles
To fit the scenery that surrounds us
To match the tempo of the action
To be as one with the drama
To laugh on cue with the humour
To cry out loud with the tragic

And who wrote this absurdist play
In which I find myself
Trying not to look too lost
A great act in itself
As I wander aimlessly across the stage
Occasionally bumping into scenery and other actors
Oh pardon me, excuse me, sorry. Ouch


And those that wait for me to give them their cue
So they too can take centre stage
Well how would they feel if they knew
I make it up as I go along

And in the end
All that I ask for
As I take my very last bow
Is that somewhere out from the darkness
A voice will shout bravo
And whisper he was no Olivier
But by God he tried his best
Until then I’ll keep on posing and preening
Keeping up the act.

BULLETS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.

Bullets speak louder than words

I know, I heard and saw it for myself
When the robbers came to the bank
For the first time the street fell silent
No car horns, no okadas buzzing
No shouting, fighting, raucous laughter
All fell silent as the guns blazed
With their own unique molten cadenza
My friends it’s the truth I tell you
Bullets speak louder than words

Just look at our friend Mugabe
A million dead due to poverty and hunger
And a million more to go through disease
Yet he sits there quietly mocking
Planning his Christmas fete for friends and family
Whilst the international community imposes
Their worthless and hypocritical sanctions
Because he knows that he controls the choir
And at the very first sign of real trouble
He will deliver them special Christmas carols
And will watch them fall silent once again
My friends it’s the truth I tell you
Because bullets speak louder than words

And to the terrorists of India
Who came to kill in the dead of night
Who knows how long they had been agitating
Asking for “constructive dialogue”
Where was Sky News, CNN, Al Jazeera
When their words fell on deaf ears
But armed and dangerous and full of swagger
Lost for words no longer “speaking”
They took to the streets to cause their carnage
Left us speechless with their message
My friends it’s the truth I tell you
Bullets speak louder than words

And while the streets of Lagos are littered
With the poor, the sick, the mad, the homeless
A Senator imports a floating hotel to the Marina
Says it will bring much needed tourists
Like what we need is more people in Lagos?
What will it do for us ask the trampled masses?
Will it feed, or clothe, or house or cure us?
But it’s hard to hear the masses crying
Above the sounds of clicking champagne glasses
But the man on the street will soon learn the secret
That if you scream and scream but no one hears you
My friends it’s the truth I tell you
Bullets speak louder than words


Lets not forget our leaders in Abuja
Where the rot is truly set
Where there is no room for true discussion
Where freedom of information is just an act
Where our trusted leader Yardy, good a man as they say he is
Finds himself surrounded by Judas'
Out to only enrich themselves
Each of them with forty policemen
Not to protect them from the sniper’s bullet
But for the day when the masses open their eyes
And close their mouths
Because suddenly they have discovered that
My friends it’s the truth I tell you
Bullets speak louder than words

NUMB

I AM NUMB

THERE IS A BLACK MAN
IN A HOUSE CALLED WHITE
SOME THEY SAY HE IS A MESSIAH
COME TO RENEW MANKIND’S HOPE
SEEMS THERE IS A NEED FOR CLEANSING
IN THIS WORLD OF OURS
I AM NUMB

THERE’S A GANG
WITH MACHINE GUNS
MURDER OF INNOCENTS ACROSS THE ROAD
I WATCH A SOLITARY POLICEMAN FIRING
TRY TO FIGHT THEM OFF, WHERE IS THE RSS?
I AM NUMB

RIBADU, A TRUE SERVANT OF THE STATE
IS BRANDED A SINNER, AND HUNG OUT TO DRY
THIS FISH HEAD IS ROTTEN, THROUGH AND THROUGH
WHAT THE HELL TO TELL THE CHILDREN
ABOUT THE NEED TO SERVE YOUR COUNTRY
I AM NUMB

LONDON,LAGOS,CAPE TOWN
JO BURG, LAGOS, DUBAI,
ABUJA, LAGOS, ABUJA, LAGOS
LONDON, LAGOS
LIFE IS A BLUR
JUST DOING MY JOB
DON’T CRY FOR ME ARGENTINA
I AM NUMB

THEY DRIVE A NAIL
INTO A CHILD’S HEAD
TO CURE HER OF WITCHCRAFT
HER PARENTS APPROVE
AND EVEN PAID THE HEALER
SOME ARE MADE TO BATHE IN ACID
I AM NUMB

THE END OF THE YEAR
APPROACHES AT BREAKNECK SPEED
START OF THE YEAR
SEEMS LIKE YESTERDAY
I AM NUMB

TO THOSE THAT “THINK”
THERE IS NO RESPITE
TO THOSE THAT “FEEL”
EVERY DAY IS TORTURE
THIS COUNTRY IS NO PLACE
FOR FAINT HEARTED
I AM NUMB


I CLOSE MY EYES
BUT STILL SEE CLEARLY
I CLOSE MY EARS
BUT THE SILENCE IS NOT GOLDEN
A WOMAN STRIPPED NAKED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT
AND STILL THE NAVY IS ALL OUT AT SEA
I AM NUMB

BUT AS DARKNESS
WRAPS ITS CLOAK AROUND ME THIS EVENING
AS THE SUN SLOPES OFF IN SILENT SHAME
AS THE DAWN TEASES FROM AFAR I COUNT THE HOURS
AND WILL THE DAWN FASTER
GASPING FOR THE MORNING DEW
I PRAY TOMORROW DELIVERS
ON ITS MANY PROMISES
I DON’T WANT TO BE NUMB.