I know the story of the place I call my homeland.
It is a story of misery, despair, disdain, debasement, devastation, and rolling heartbreak.
It is a story of scorching trauma and a pendulum of trauma too.
It is a story of dissonance, infamy, hate, envy, malice, exclusion, division, barbarity, and a culture of turpitude.
It is a story of discontent, despondency, wailing, grieving, and torturing scars.
Oh, yes, I know the story of my homeland.
It is a story of extreme greed, rampant public corruption… all for the powerful governors and their business affiliates while the poorest and neediest are plunged into the painful abyss of hunger, disease, illiteracy, and squalors.
It is a story of the substandard educational system, disastrous healthcare system, bad roads, inadequate and unreliable electricity, and pipe-born water.
It is a story of ‘poli-tricks’, sycophancy, parochialism, inferiority complex, personal aggrandizement, patronage, partisanship, nepotism, tribalism, and regionalism.
It is the story of a lack of national consciousness, no moral compass, no meritocracy, and a lack of national faith.
It is a story of a corrupt justice system, dishonorable legislature, scandalous executive, and an Imperial President.
Brethern, I truly know the story of my homeland.
It is a story of insensitive, voracious, scoundrel, unpatriotic, and miscreant public officials who callously feast on the public coffers to the detriment of the suffering and weary masses.
It is a story of tragedy, damnation, misfortune, rape, torture, abuse, misuse, mental disorder, destitution, national degeneracy, and debauchery.
It is a story of forgotten, dejected, rejected disadvantaged, depressed, and psychologically unstable youth hooked on bad drug substances and left to maraud the streets and wage terror on peaceful citizens.
Indeed, I know the story of my homeland, and it is simply a story of shame, iniquity, cynicism, pessimism, fear, and dishonor. Yes, I know the story of my homeland.
By Moncio Robert Wilmot Kpadeh (Sage)
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