10/03/2023
THE KIDNAPPERS OF HOPE.
In the eve to the morning show, the eligible youths, the elderly mothers and fathers were in a wake to rewrite the history, to change the narrative of Emilokan (it is my turn). It's indeed a determined wake which seems to be a revolution where the masses resolved to say it's our turn. Our turn to take back our country, our turn where the profit of the land will be for all, our turn to build our economy on the rock of production and not consumption. The masses were hopeful, the masses were obedient. It seems like a jingle, rejuvenation of hope to a resolute people.
Indeed the c**k has crow but it wasn't a sign of denial, it was a call for a new hope.
We left our homes to the poling units to make our votes count, to keep our promise, to build a new structure and to destroy the criminal structure. We waited patiently and hopefully, the officers arrived for the exercise nonchalantly, without sense of urgency. Of course they will be paid for being nonchalant, for arriving late.
We queued without reneging, the process was blunt, the BVAS was acting like it's commission yet we were patient, we were hopeful. The machine is working, what a good news. We got accredited, we voted OBIDIENTLY. The tide aroused, we stood firm, the rain failed, we termed it showers of blessing, we pleaded for more. The thugs came, they caused mayhem, Favour got stabbed on the face, yet she voted with a bandaged blood-dripping face, she only want to cast her hope in the ballot box.
We collated our results in our different units with a unique song. LUP 77, LLUUPP 78, OBI 79, KERERENKE 80, OBI 81, OBI NWANNEM 82.
We counted our hope, we were happy that our hope will count. The kidnappers of hope began to cook their plans, the presidential results cannot be uploaded. Our hope cannot be transmitted, we were unhappy but believed INEC.
We left home posting our unit results on social media. The social media was our own collation centre. All the social media collated results was LLUUPP.
On the way to the national collation centre, our hope was kidnapped, our civil right was stolen by a ranchorous elite with a suckling filament in Abuja.
The question is, who will pay for her ransom. Will it still remain in the den of thieves like LEAH SHARIBU?