When I consider the sufferings and pains of some law abiding Nigerians in the webs of the men in black, undergoing extreme torment like slaves under their master’s enclaves; like prisoner the stree…
When I consider the sufferings and pains of some law abiding Nigerians in the webs of the men in black, undergoing extreme torment like slaves under their master’s enclaves; like prisoner the street becomes restricted to their movement! Fear grips me.
As a youngster, my imagination was vivid.
It was to recruit into the police force to serve and save my dear country Nigeria until now.
Retrospectively, my best friend’s father was a genuine policeman; decent and honest with integrity! A Great respecter of every individual, a mentor and an inspiratory who with faith rendered selfless service to the country in respect of the police force.
By his attributes, he became my source of inspiration.
He’s uniforms were always very neat! Like a package shirt, they were always iron to the best. The shiny leather of his shoes was my courage and correction from tattiness to decency. With him, I had hope that one day Nigeria would become a better place.
He was a great attraction to everyone in the street; the kids in inclusive because of his immeasurable passion to serve the country through the police force irrespective he’s mini salary and poor standard of living.
Sadly oh blessed memories, a week before his hierarchy was to be uplifted for the addition of a new rank, he was wasted by bullets and his dead was attributed to fault some unknown gunmen.
But common sense, he was murders and the case was sealed!
Back then, there were few numbers of decent police men and women with good manners of approach! Perhaps, they weren’t educated to the top!
But the nature of their jobs and the responsibilities bestowed upon them as law enforcement was made incisively to their understanding before and after recruitment.
Those were men of honor and integrity was their targets. But as I grew older, what I see troubled my mind. “How the goats got mixed with the sheep worries me, and I don’t understand the weeds that has outgrown the crops”
Every blessed day, I see groups of people on black attire with red eyes like habitual smokers putting on dirty shoes, hanging on some dirty pick-up, wearing some dirty trousers; patch to the buttock, holding some foreign abandon weapons, people without manners of approach and respect; a suppose crime fighter that commits the highest numbers of crime with no record of punishment because the discipline of indecency is dead in the force.
But as I stare even much closer, I realized that there were more black stains in the inside of the pot and my eyes were focus only on the outside.
These strange men on black attires had caused so many innocent and law abiding Nigerians to prison because of their selfish interest. They punish the innocent in place for the plutocrat sinners. The street no longer is safe for both the grown and for the growing.
So I ponder, “How long should the mind of the people continue to rely on the forever promise of the minister of common sense for security? Where are the genuine doctors with the abilities to cure the sick or aren’t they any?
“Should the innocent continue to be mute, living in terror even in the street of their birth, battling with harassment from hoodlums and simultaneously, the spontaneous threat from some nonchalant men on black, perambulating the street in respect of law enforcement? I doubt.
Like a lamp that went off, the harum-scarum, nonchalant puerile idiosyncrasy of characters heterogeneous the police force has killed my passion of it.
With my anxieties and to verify am not being misled by my troubled thoughts of everyday stress, I headed to the police center to report a fault case of harassment.
At the police station, I made my way through the entrance; two men in black sat discussing, another one stood by receiving a phone call but constantly pulling his falling trouser up to the waist. In another scene, two men on black, one sitting on top of a motor cycle, his gun was hung behind he’s back. The owner of the motor cycle stood with the other man on black pleading for the released of his only means of lively hood, his inner pocket is pull out, and evidence he has given out all the money he had.
While admiring them for the force they claim to be, my thoughts could not help but ponder, “whether or not the governments were concern about their daily records.
Successfully, I made my way into a small but open office. In it, a wooden table and a cross bar! Comfortably balanced on it, a belle on black plus a man with big belli, attached with another fat man with belli alike; all on black attire.
They stood tall enjoying their gossips but were distracted by my sudden submerge while the other complainants sat and watched on a wooden bench.
I reported my case of harassment to the trio, then I relaxed my anxiety for a responds. The case was ignored momentarily, then a chuckle, followed with a clap by the belle three times then a squeezed of the mouth.
Then the bomb was dropped, “see this small rat! You were harassed by some policemen? Who are you? You’re not even scared to walk down here, Hun!
She chanted while the duo watched in amazement.
Suddenly, my courage fled away because I was subdued to an ant. Their verdict was even more harassing than I can imagine.
Then I began to regret and felt sorry for myself. “What propelled my move at first, where was my sense of reasoning before coming here to the police center?
On my own, I settle down on the wooden bench to relax my gasp with my mouth gape. But I was latter given another seat behind the cross bar, I sat there until it came clear to my knowledge that I must bail myself out from that wooden seat.
While in that pre-jailed, I saw a fat man, weary of seating; trying all effort to cross the people at home but he’s effort was fruitless. He was seated beside by ‘another crosspatch who with all might swear never to go near a police station again thereafter.
Beside him was an elderly fellow, slightly tipsy to a point, which could not hold back his anger but poured it out with curses to his captors. He was considered a drunk.
Then suddenly before my eyes, the hunters came in with their innocent victims, all smelling of alcoholic! All on their usual tattered black attires; authorizing their victims to refrain from noise and be mute.
As they crossed my part, it felt as though I was in a local bar where alcoholic drinks were been served. The atmosphere changed to the smell of alcoholics and hem.
To myself I pondered, “Aren’t these people drunk? Do they really know their duties and responsibilities as law enforcement? How can they arrest innocent people from the street if found drunk when they themselves are habitual drunkard?
Why do they pick people at random, only to end up fabricating lies on them in other to extort money from the innocent? And what does displace and dis-orderly mean to those men on black? Why should they continue to use their foreign abandoned weapons to intimidate armless innocent people in the street?
I suddenly realized that all this were rather rhetorical, someone has to hear this. It makes no meaning to sing and dance alone in crowded place! Someone, somewhere must apologies to all the young stars now aged in the street whose imaginations was to recruit in the police force.
For killing our dreams and for killing the morals of those men with integrity and replacing them with jobless men who are driven by means of survival, someone must explain.
This must go further beyond the tail to the head of the earth that, “the goat has mixed with the sheep and the weeds has outgrown the crops”
To anyone who has or have in anyway or place been a victim of police brutality
BY: Alexandre w. wisdom.
FOR: Eyes of African Gods
In the land of the dark skin humans, ones a great nation; famous for her natural blessings, a land that was once known as the resting place of the creator’s home (God) Bestowed with blessings of all kinds between her enclaves.
Her dark skin children were famous and giants. They were great sculptors and scientist. The eyes of the greater God and gods were upon them.
Destine for the leadership of the whole universe, they were blessed. Their land had live therefore every crops planted on it was a success.
The gods’ rand to Africa in the time of old and have their temple with worshipers there. The footsteps of the gods brought great light into the land. Things became brighter with the presences of the gods.
Doubt this not, “the almighty creator (God) created gods for both the dark skin humans and also a different gods for the light skin human same as he has created angels for each one of us.” The almighty creator created so many mysterious things here on earth.
The dark skin human devoted their time to the worshiping of their gods, through sacrifices upon another. Their sincere worshiping provoked gladness from their gods and thereto, the rains of Blessing fall upon the dark skin nation.
News of their numerous blessings and prosperity flew across the sea, through the forest and lands. Foreigners trooped in for the worshiping of the dark skin gods.
The light skin humans came in with treasures to pay homage to the dark skin gods;
Ethiopia was a great nation, blessed by her gods. Egypt was rich. Her chambers were filled with riches.
Israelite’s were there to worship at her gods feet and be fed.
Sad oh foolishness! The dark skin human admired the treasures from the light skin foreign worshipers;
Hatred and conspiracy breaks among the dark skin humans for whom should the treasures belong to.
Too much familiarity with the gods killed the fear and respect. The dark skin human’s preferred the treasures from the light skin foreign worshipers to their own gods.
Wisdom gripped tight to the light skin foreign worshipers.
To the dark skin humans they said, “Treasures we have in abundant and we know you admire them! Therefore, let us do trade by barter! Give us your gods in exchange for our treasures. The dark skin human agreed.
Trade by barters became a way of life in the old. The impossibilities became possible.
The dark skin gods refused to go with the light skin humans. Thunder storm, mighty rain fall, fear flew across the land.
Through extreme invocation and conjuring by the dark skin human, the spirit of the dark skin gods rose to honor her worshipers. Into a sculpted image she was conjured in.
With the help of the dark skin human, the gods of the dark skin nation were carried into the light skin human kingdom.
The dark skin human convey their gods into the light skin human kingdom. Neither they nor their gods returned back home again.
The gods left the land of the dark skin human’s long time ago into the land of the light skin human for an exchange of mere treasures. Our own gods left Africa long time ago.
“Oh poverty, you have found your way into the land of the dark skin nation” The children yet unborn will suffer for a crime they committed not.
“Shame unto the ancestors of the dark skin human”. The fifth generations even unto the last shall say the same thing.
“Shame unto any man who had blamed the light skin humans for the era of slavery”
“Shame unto any man light or dark skin that hold crush against the light skin humans for enslaving the dark skin people.
May all blames and curses fall upon the ancestors of the dark skin humans
The selling of the dark skin gods to the light skin humans was a crime against the creator (God)
Now, in the temple of the dark skin human gods; sculpted images lay waste with no effect. The gods had gone long time ago.
Bye to mother land Africa, the land that was to rule the world! The gods bide her farewell.
BY: Alexandre wisdom
FOR: EYE OF AFRICAN GODS
I see something that I must talk about. Everyone is scared to speak when they see something. The civilians are afraid of the police, the police are afraid of the soldiers; the soldiers do not like the lawyers. Everyone is afraid of something. In Africa, we have two kinds of government, 1, The Criminal […]
I see something that I must talk about. Everyone is scared to speak when they see something.
The civilians are afraid of the police, the police are afraid of the soldiers; the soldiers do not like the lawyers. Everyone is afraid of something.
In Africa, we have two types of government,
1, The Criminal Government
2, The Arm Robbery Government.
The two types of governments have four years to rules and steal whatever from wherever, as much as they can before the time of power change over game on the fifth year.
If the criminal government is in power for instance, on the fifth year of their reign the arm robbery government would oppose them and take over power; if their opposing weapons are sophisticated enough. If not, the criminal government would continue their reign and stealing.
Preachers from all religious groups do not like either of the two kinds of government we have in Africa so they preached the bad things the government are doing to their blind members.
The members so much love and trust their preachers that they take every word from the preacher’s mouth very serious. ‘’Words from the preachers mouth are sweeter than honey.
But the preachers in Africa are another kind of government. They fall under the criminal government. The preachers have the most sophisticated weapon on earth known to mankind, “the holy Bible and the holy Quran”
This kind of government is a special one with no opposition! But they have so many competitors therefore; the preachers devote their time to study their weapons very hard to be able to use them against their blind followers.
Both the criminal government and the arm robbery government in Africa have two ways of operation. Since they are the government, they have access to everything including coming to your small house to beat you up for an acclaimed crime you know nothing about. They have access to the nation’s treasures and therefore all they need is just a pen and a paper.
In Africa, even before the signing of a budget, the money is already been pocketed by some few individuals and all the people need to do is to wait a story on how the money developed legs and run away into a foreign country after the signing of a bill.
The second mode of operation; this one is peculiar with the arm robbery kind of government. Since they understand that everyone is afraid of something, they develop a plan to steal from the people! The school children even babies yet unborn are victims to the arm robbery kind of government. They robbed the people by means of unnecessary taxation. In Africa no one has any good reason of being a proud tax payer. Why do we even pay tax in Africa?
\The preachers do not like the arm robbery kind of government; so they preached. They don’t like the arm robbery kind of government because, ‘’they uses force to collect money from the people’’.
Meanwhile, while the members are busy paying attention the preacher’s messages, their hands are reluctantly pushing it way through the pockets and bags. They cannot leave a gathering without paying a tax up to five times as the preachers demands this is called, ‘’voluntary given to God or offering” , this is usually done with a special song to keep the members mind busy without even knowing they have been robbed by a criminal government.
The preachers government is usually operated in the name of a said messiah, e.g. stealing under the name of our lord Jesus Christ, stealing in the name of our prophet Mohamed.
The two kind of government that rules Africa are the “CRIMINAL GOVERNMENT AND THE ARM ROBBERY GOVERNMENT” their differences are, “one will steal from you right before your eye without you even knowing but the other would steal from you and leave traces of evidence.
So what kind of government are you operating or is operating you?
Always remember my friends,
- We all have one life
- We are all prone to making mistakes
- The world does not like a honest person! but be honest.
- You cannot beloved by all
- You are human and not a god
- Don’t waste good apportunity
- Don’t bite the finger that once feed you
- In all of these, always remember that, however beautiful the sunset might be, it would always go dark.
A wise hunter does not waste he’s spears and arrows
on rabbits when an Antelope is feeding beside him.
The Strenght for starting a race is not the same with fishing it.http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/wise-words
Time to Think.
From the book, “the proverbs of Alexandre wisdom