S.A. David's Blog

What can we do for the world?
How can we integrate the earth?
Where can we find peaceful grace for our lives?
Why is the globe in near-disarray?
Who will be our messiah?
Which is the right and good channel?
When will we scale through the odds?
Who divided us into North, East, West and South?
How did the tribes and nations and boundary marks come to be?
Why are we Blacks and Whites and Caucasians and Red Indians?
What made us Africans, Americans, Asians, Austrians, Australians and Europeans?
Where did the straight, nonsexual, asexual and LGBT emerge from?
Which is the best – Abraham, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Atoms or others?
Who made us leaders and masters and followers and slaves?

We can look beyond the boundary marks and languages
We all have hearts and blood which is life
We should not take melanin serious – it’s very trivial
We should let God judge our medium of reaching him or her
We own the earth – we have no other tangible place
We should love who we love – God is love
We should leave each other our peaceful peace

She was peaceful before Berlin
She was crime free before Domini
She was a loving people before Kudirat’s man
She was religious before religion
She was savage before Mungo
She was barbaric before Flora
She was uncivilized before Lugard
But she was humanShe ate with the five fingers before fork
She treated her pestilence before the syringes
She boomed her economy before the mint
She was lovable before love
Jesus came, they looted in his name
They trafficked in his name
They crusaded in his name
They kissed frenchly in his name
Kudirat’s husband came up
They spilled red fluid in his name
Boko emerged in his name
Infidels were axed
Jesus is infidel
Kudirat’s husband’s people propagate
Jesus people can’t lead
Kudirat’s people are free
Jesus lost the vote
Kudirat we love
Jesus condones nonsense
Kudirat is Ishmael's 'dant
Kudirat lost the vote
Jesus we cherish
Kudirat condones barbarcity
Jesus is Israel's 'dent
Jesus will marry Kudirat
Kudirat might be unfaithful
Kudirat might wage war
Jesus versus Kudirat

#GEJ #GMB #PDP #APC #VotesNotViolence #Nigeria2015
It's about hours left until we go out to vote for a new president to pilot the affairs of Nigeria for the next four years, and as it stands now, you are either for change or you're for continuity. If you are for change the questions are: "What are we changing over to actually?"

"Is it any different from what we have on ground already?"
"What's the moral standard of persons or group of persons advocating for this change?"
"Is it truly a set of aggrieved persons seeking vengeance or power at all cost or a people who truly want positive change?"
On the other side of the coin, if you say you are for continuity the questions are:"What are we continuing actually?"
"Has our lives or living conditions been improved since the last 6 years?"
"Do we actually have these economic problems those chanting for change have raised?"
"Was Obama wrong at his 2015 State of the Union opening speech when he said 'when what you have been doing for the past 10 years is not working then it's time to try something new'"?
"Are we actually comfortable with the situation of things on ground in the country to give room for continuity?"
These and many more are the questions for both sides.
Let's keep the prefix aside and face the issue raised here, a fact I feel most Nigerians aren't paying attention to, and that's what the opposition has created: History shows that the current political tension, curiosity, awareness and eagerness to participate in the electoral process by Nigerians in 2015 is unrivalled, the closest atmosphere to this could be said to be that of the June 12 1993 elections which was keenly contested between MKO Abiola of the SDP and Bashir Tofa of the NRC.

Now this is my calculation: lets say the PDP wins the election, Trust me they are going to improve and would try to offer better governance because they know that there is a strong opposition waiting and may seize power at the next election, so they would try to impress Nigerians. On the other hand also, if the APC wins they would be forced to perform well also. They have made a lot of promises to Nigerians, also they would know that Nigerians would prefer to just go back to PDP if they have nothing better to offer. The APC also would know how hard it was to snatch power from PDP and would try to impress in order to stay in power - that would be a healthy competition and that's what APC has created for Nigeria.
The PDP took over power in 1999 and from thence till date they have grown from strength to strength; however, due to the absence of a strong and aggressive opposition party, there has been a lot of misgivings, and lack of interest in the electoral process by Nigerians because it has always been a one man show, but with the emergence of the APC, as a result of the merger by the Congress for Progressive Change, or CPC, the Action Congress, or AC, the All Nigerian People's Party, or ANPP and a faction of the All Progressive Grand Alliance,  or APGA, there now seems to be an increased interest in Nigerians - the youths and everybody now seems to have an opinion in this regard, even my aged grandmother of over 90 years knows there is Buhari and Goodluck and she is interested.
This competition has helped the likes of America as her citizens just know how to rotate power between the Democrats and the Republicans after a while. Looking at it from this perspective, let's say there is this guy and lady who have been dating for some years now and it's getting a bit long; and suddenly begins to look boring.
The guy in question isn't helping matters as he takes her too much for granted, not as lovely and committed as he promised or used to be. He now feels too comfortable and cares less; and coincidentally, at such a time when the lady feels ignored, she meets a new guy who sweeps her off her feet, and in the process she gets caught in between. While some part of her feels bored and is wanting a change or to try something new, the other part feels she has gone a long way with the old guy and maybe they could build on what's on ground. This lady is undecided and and both guys discover their half chances and start trying to impress this lady. They are both now caring as they spend more of their time and money on her and have even become poetic all in a bid to win her heart. Yes, every woman enjoys this process of being chased by more than one male at the same time; they enjoy the 'chiking' and asking out process, it makes them blossom, feel special and gives them some special trips (so they say).
So as it appears, the new guy coming into the picture changed the story for the better. Whoever wins her heart at the end of the day would appreciate and take care, knowing that there is a close competitor out there.
So it is now, whoever wins be it APC Or PDP, Nigeria would grow rapidly; so let's forget all the ethnic and religious sentiments, and the hate messages and adverts we have seen from both parties. Every saint has a past as well as every sinner has a future. I feel Buhari is capable, I also feel Jonathan is capable, now who would be more effective in my opinion would stem from what you feel is Nigeria’s urgent need and who is better placed to help.
In case you are wondering where I stand in the whole issue, well, just like my friend Iyes always say, "I know where I stand".
Special shout outs to @Junayd and @radioprodigy whom I've had the opportunity to discuss and understand this bitter truth with, to Ope Owotumi whom I stole some lines from her write-up at CASADE.org, and to J.A Okpanachi and Mr & Mrs Quest for the bitter and many long arguments on this.
The beauty of the opposition is no endorsement of the opposition but I just want to see positive change irrespective of who offers it and it is simply for the love of country.
I'm still one of those people who believe in Nigeria, so like the Americans usually say, lets say GOD BLESS NIGERIA!

They rub shit in our face
They put us on a long thing
They lie through the green teeth
They tell us plenty flash fictions

We believe
We’re gullible
We’re resilient
We’re children

They say aye
They shout nay
They bang the wood
They collect fat sums

We work the plantations
We till the soil
We move the tractors
We collect the shillings

They throw parties, hourly.
They eat elephants, daily.
They wear clothings, secondsly
They drive Royces, weekly.

We wait for Xmas
We buy fish, it’s a miracle
We’re proud of the fairly used Hugo
We take pride on our side-walks

We dare not fight
We dare not protest
We dare not strike
Because blood wasn’t shed

Freedom was handed us on a plate.

I want to be your president
I kneel and plead your votes
I’m destined to be the number one man
Can’t you read it in my palm lines?

I shall build bridges
Where there are no rivers
I shall plant food crops on rock soils
I shall light a candle under a table

I shall loot and give you your share
You shall eat while I eat
Your children don’t need examinations
I shall certify all of them

I want to be your governor
Why should I beg for your votes?
I have a PhD in leading
You have no choice but me

It’s my turn to eat oil-money
It’s my turn to puppet the force
It’s my turn to drive in convoys
It’s my turn to inhabit Aso Rock’s prototype

Whether you vote or not, I’ll win
Tribunal or not, I’ll continue
Protest or not, you’re on your own
Strike or not, you will get fatigue

You can’t beat me
Join me
You can’t conquer me
Like me

I will be senator
Whether you like it or not
I shall blindfold you with legal tender
And you shall mortgage me your future

I am already Honorable
To hell with your votes
I have a powerful godfather
To him I’m responsible.

He knows how to manipulate the commission
The people are no match for him
My godfather
To him I’m responsible

I will be like the mayor
I’m sexy and beautiful
Your votes don’t count
Because you won’t count them

My lips are florid
My hips are rigid
I shall give him from my honey pot
He shall make me like the mayor

You shall give us your votes
Because we are powers that be
Our manifesto shall manifest
We promise you the impossible

Brrr...brrr...brrr...brrr.
It was Saint Valentine on dies Saturni
And my auris was weary
Of the sweet unpleasant music:
And you were cutting and saving a life
With your scalpel, specula, clamp and retractor,
And I rang you up the umpteenth time:
But you left your brain in a syringe

Then, it was me and my solitary V-DAY.
Cold! Lonely! Bore! Loveless, no love-free!
Valentine Useless! Saturn's Day Use-free!
My expensive roses go limp and into extinction
You were absent from my soul
Because you wield a sphygmomanometre

Now, today - Day of the sun
You're blowing up my auris
Grande Valse envelopes my scriptorium
Sorry I can't take the call.
I'm busy. But I still love you.
I'm busy - Searching and Researching and Writing.
I'm busy - My pen is my life.

Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!
Grande Valse is dissuading - I don't want to talk
I have a date with Chimamanda and
The beautiful Scarpetta on Moon's Day.
Stop dialing! Call back! Sorry! I'm busy!
I left my senses in the library
And I won't remember in eons.

Go back to the theatre,
I'm busy - But I still love you.
Stop breaking up on me
I've got a date with Dame Dorothy James
Don't dial! You're making me sick!
Stop the Grande Valse!
Stop! Don't dial!
Don't!

You journeyed via
The Desert of Sahara,
And via the very
Gulf of Guinea
Currying up dust
And altering
Messrs Celsius and Fahrenheit

Morn, nine degrees
Noon, thirty degrees
Morn, forty eight degrees
Noon, eighty six degrees
Why arrive at Messiah's birth?
Why depart at advent of his death?
Holy Harmattan! Leave us be!

You scar our kissing tool
And make oil its companion
You lick our 'dermis
And make it scaly and dry
You paint our zapato
With dusts from Sahara
Holy Harmattan! Leave us be!

We can't wake
At sunrise
Our bladder bags can't be
Emptied when full
But you dessicate our linen
In time and flames fan aglow
Holy Harmattan! Leave us be!

Our nostrils are weary
Of shedding blood
Our crops are weary
Of being broken
Let Mother Sun
Shine in her glory
Holy Harmattan! Leave us be!

Hush!
The stars are aligned
Tonight!
Whatsapp connects two locales
And four pollex pads punch an
 Android and
Window

Lo!
A moment of truth as
Savannah and Forest
Become a
Chat lounge
And participate in the
Global Village

'Hey!
'Miriam I'm called'
Pollex pads type so
Fast and furious
'What is the forename
'Or surname?
'Don't be slow'

His tongue begins to taste like
Sugar
'My mother christened me
'Jerome
'Since I was born in the
'Pope's country,
'Friends call me Rome.'

'You pray to
'Mary?'
The Android seems
Ruthless
'You still crucify
'Jesus?'
Feminine pollex pads punch

Bile creeps up the
Throat of Rome
'You wear a
'Jellabiya and hijab?
'You will let your hubby
'Marry Miriam and
'Moremi and Ngozi and Nelly?'

'Are you Southerner or
'Easterner or Dahomey-descendant?
'Are you
'Yam - Eater?'
Winner hormone activated!
'Can you lord
'A home?'

Pride punctured!
Reprisal unlocked!
'You have a
'PhD
'Like my mummy?
'You have flawless
'Accent?'

Unperturbed damsel strikes
'You have a
'Conglomerate
'Like my
'Huge papa?
'Can you slay
'A boa?'

Pushed to the wall.
Rome blocks Miriam
Miriam dials Rome
Rome barrs MIriam
Miriam smashes Android
Rome power off Window
End of discussion

Today I'm 586080000 seconds old
And yet I'm ignorant of your nameEven after I stumbled upon this cold truth, yes cold
Which prompts me to hide my truth in shame

Lo! I'm confused but still understand
What is your name? Maybe you are who you are
Mummy calls you Jesus when she kneels, sits and stands
I used to call you sacred - but spirits are

Maybe you are not a personage
Maybe you are a hot crystal ball
Maybe you are the force in our blood 'til we age
Maybe you have no age at all

Today I'm grateful for my handsome face
But are you in heaven and beautiful?
Do you even have a face?
Maybe you make my immune very powerful

What if you are just an intelligent tall tree
Trying to grow your way into heaven?
Maybe only the pope knows about the primitive tree
Maybe only the Roman Archbishop will go to heaven

Today my brain cells are 586080000 seconds old
But my brain usage maybe is not exhausted
Maybe ten, or fifteen, or twenty - or in a fold
Just as your blood has been exhausted

Many a time I prayed and fasted and abstained
All to no good avail, nothing changed until I worked
And it made me grateful for my reason not stained
After I jettisoned the star, moon and cross which I corked

Maybe you are a slob like one of us
Maybe you get sloshed like my friend in a bus
Maybe you are intelligent like me
Maybe you are a terrorist like him

But wait, when did you create the world?
When is your birthday?
Or maybe you are matter - the world.
Or maybe you are time - night and day

But please burn me not in unquenching fires of hell
Perhaps you are as the dolphin without hands
Maybe you are an imago, an immaterial and with no cell
Maybe you are the force in my blood, eyes, legs and hands

Jim Brayshaw told me there is no satan
Maybe I believe there is no lucifer
Maybe you are simultaneously an angel and shaitan
Maybe you are the morning star - lucifer

I'm a 586080000 seconds old man
And I've chosen to be vegetarian
Because in heaven there is no abattoir
I may be singing to the choir

Today I'm 586080000 seconds old
And maybe you are the phoenix - never old
Maybe you speak, maybe you have no cords and no voice
Maybe you are spontaneous, or predetermined, or with a choice

Maybe you are not in heaven
Maybe you are the earth
Maybe you are under the sea
Maybe you live in our bloodstream

Maybe you are Jehovah
Maybe you are Allah
Maybe you are Shechinah
Maybe the virgin is your mother

Maybe I'm being stupid
Maybe it is calibration
Maybe I need showers from Cupid
Maybe you are itself calculation

I'm 586080000 seconds old
And I'm yet to be one with the world

Before the white throne
He gives me my new ID
Cloud Ten citizen
He kisses my forehead
And presents me to the minions.

Revelry
A Cloud Ten Party
To welcome a new citizen
Enough to eat and drink.
Excretion, absent
Earth's laws, here, of non-effect

Hwyl
Joy
Passion
Love
Cloud Ten

No Miranda warning
No Habaeus Corpus
A. V. Dicey, no!
Art and Science, defied.
No paper or plastic ID

No election, no masses.
No parliament, no congress
No president, no people
We're all Cloud Ten Citizens
No lord, no common, no equal.