Watch This Space…

This is the sacred announcement of life. Nature gives us the very same sequence, chirping birds announce to us the coming of spring; the loud cock-a-doodle-doo heralds the coming of dawn. A great sage-king of a distant land in a distant time said “there is a time for everything under the sun…a time to be born and a time to die”…astute words by one adjudged to be the wisest man to have walked this earth. Replication and replacement appear to be the aim of existence.
Ok. Enough with the philosophical musings, where am I going with all of this? I find that I am increasingly fascinated by history. Not just that, I am intrigued by the sequence of things. Nature as they say, abhors a vacuum and as such seems bent on ensuring that nothing is left unattended. If however, it is unable to achieve this, the balanced is tipped; entropy is tampered with, and the machinations of chaos are set in motion.
With every passing day, life signals to us the twilight of one season and the birth of another. We are introduced to the infancy of one generation whilst we ponder solemnly the passing of another. The joys of birth provide the perfect contrast for the mourning of loss. All the while, the cosmos is hard at work to ensure continuity.
Which brings me to my subject…Nigeria. Contrary to the words of our sacred anthem, the labour of our heroes past may never amount to anything. This, not only because of our seemingly inherent destructive tendencies, but because they are all we appear to have- heroes past! Have you noticed how in general conversation, nearly everything good in our land is referred to in past tense? ‘Those days’, ‘the good old days’…the subdued musings of a pauperized generation with nothing to bequeath to those who come after.
However, as I said before: there is hope. Hope that the brightest of our literary minds will not cease to exist with the passing of a few septuagenarians, hope that our public leadership will not forever remain the preserve of those who have one foot in the hereafter. There is hope that we will not always have to count our blessing on the fingers of one hand. There is hope for this nation that our best years are not completely behind us.
To this end, I must say that to actualize this hope we need to listen to what the world around is telling us.
This is the cosmic announcement as the world heralds our coming; those who will not applaud mediocrity, who will not celebrate poverty of soul.
The birds are the harbingers of our arrival; those who are not so poor that all they have is money, those who think ‘we’ and not ‘I’.
The best of nature’s drums announce our era; those who value principles more than comfort, who will not be afraid to stand up for what they believe in.
Where are they? Who are they? Why are they yet silent? For how long shall we watch?
To be continued…


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