#31Days31Writers – Jaiye is up! “Change came, but it is that kind of change that changes the change maker”

#31Days31Writers – Jaiye is up! “Change came, but it is that kind of change that changes the change maker”.



How did we get here? My Take On Violence and Using God as ‘Third Party Affiliate’



You bought a Flight ticket, got stuck in traffic, arrived at the airport twenty (20) minutes to take-off, and met a closed Counter. Even though the plane did not arrive until ten minutes after, you were told you already missed the flight.

Today, penalties paid in cash to re-validate your ticket; you’re way too early for your flight. After you checked-in, a text comes in that your flight has been delayed for One Hour! You try hard not to curse. The plane arrives eventually, you board, and as a typical Nigerian, bow your head to pray, and the only Prayer that escapes your lips is ‘GOD, PLEASE DON’T ACT’!  Few bumps and about an hour later, at the arrival terminal, while waiting for your baggage, you stand by the conveyor belt and look up at the graphically assisted pictures of Mr President and Madam Aviation Minister, the smile of the former, and the eyes of the latter that seem to be fixated on you and then you breathe out ‘GOD, THANK YOU FOR NOT ACTING’


You work with the Aviation Authority, just a couple of weeks ago, a chartered plane split in half less than a minute after take-off, spewing charred bodies and a trapped casket dangerously close to your  office. Today, you are getting totally unnerved at the drones flying ahead so you pray…‘GOD, PLEASE DON’T ACT’!  Eleven hours later, you arrive at your Iju, Lagos-Ogun-or-whatever-State-Suits home and just as you’re about to settle for a late dinner, a Plane sounds pretty close overhead and the four letter ‘D’ word flashes across your mind and before you could say DANA! You drop your spoon by reflex as you pray ‘GOD, PLEASE DON’T ACT’!

Let me introduce you to God. You are not likely to know this God. He’s not the One Moses talked about as recorded in the Bible and Torah.  He’s not the One Jesus claimed oneness with, nor is He the Allah that sent Jubril/Gabriel to Muhammed while meditating in the Carbonate Caves of Arabia. This God was created circa 1858 when the phrase: ACT OF GOD, known in French as Force Majeure crept into Law/Insurance.


This God is as capricious as the Esu of Yoruba mythology (Esu in Yoruba mythology is the god of the crossroads who grants ordinance to sacrifices, determines fate, and is the master of trickery, it is probably the trickery aspect that prompted Bishop Samuel Ajayi Crowther to erroneously translate the Devil as Esu in the Bible when he got to Genesis Chapter 3). Okay, let me not get carried away.

When Nigerians pray, it looks more likely that they pray to the 1858-Force Majeure-Esu God. When something terrible happens, the individual must have not prayed enough (the Yoruba Esu afflicts those who fail to make sacrifices).


An over speeding Car runs into a humongous pot-hole and somersaults, killing the Passengers. No one thinks of the reckless driver nor the passive passengers who do not want to come off as weak and afraid should they tell the driver to slow down. No one thinks of the corrupt politician who has appropriated the funds meant for the repair/maintenance of these roads, nor the Contractor who does a shoddy job, having ‘tipped’ several officials to secure the contract and had no funds left to cater to his ‘Mark-Up’, it has to be God, to whom the victims did not pray enough to, hence were left at the mercies of the ‘Witches’ who set their cauldrons in the middle of the road!

ImageAsk the Christian who pays his Tithe dutifully why he does that. Tell him to think deeply before answering. Is he paying because he loves God or because the Pastor has quoted Malachi 3 so much that he’s afraid that if he doesn’t pay, the capricious God is going to strike him with various afflictions?

Ask the Muslim who gives Zakat; is he doing it as a wealth redistribution to help the poor as enjoined in the Quran (mainly in the Medinan Suras) and Hadith or out of fear of damnation and disaster?

It is interesting that in the United Kingdom, Muslims give more to Charity than Jews, with Protestants tailing behind, then Catholics, with the Atheists at the bottom of the Charity list (http://worldnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/07/22/19611201-muslims-give-more-to-charity-than-others-uk-poll-says). If this poll is anything to go by, the average Briton who has no thought of repercussions is NOT likely to give to charity! I would have conveniently extrapolated this trend to the entire Homo Sapiens Sapiens but some prominent secular humanists come to mind, even at that, I would still call them the handful exceptions to the rule.

Politicians and Millionaire Ex-Militants must love this God more than any of us at the lower end of the Food-Chain. The corrupt Politician can go ahead with his impunity as long as he knows that the average citizen would rather pray for ‘Divine-Intervention’ instead of marching on the Streets to say NO to impunity and tyranny. This God has his own Christ too, ‘the unseen shrink at every Tweet     ’ who allows you to vent your pent-up frustrations, till the same Politicians come up with Twitter handles with their array of ‘False Prophets’ and Pseudo/Para Voltrons  closing the Trinity loop.

A bunch of Clerics love this God too, contrary to Late ‘Oyii’ Chuba Okadigbo’s prediction in 1999 that Clerics would be ‘out of business’       with the advent of democracy, it is now a Game of Numbers too. The Politician needs the Cleric for two major reasons:

1)    Numbers : The Politician knows that kneeling down before the Man of God  right in front of about a Million strong congregation is going to hit the headlines, increase the ‘eye-witnesses’, make him come across as ‘Humble and God-Fearing’ and translate to VOTES.

2)    Atonement: Who would rather build a Church/ Mosque, donate largesse to  Places of Worship and grant license to Churches to build ‘Private Universities’     while ironically starve the Public Schools that were built by Missionaries and leave the Universities in Doldrums while the Roads remain Death Traps?


I could say more, but I really do not need to.  Just breathe calmly as you note that when next a Politician jets off to the Holy Land at the time there are strong corruption charges hanging on his or her neck, it is an ACT OF GOD!





Friends, foes, collective ‘twittering children of anger’, LWKMD contortionists, listen to me and listen good. This might just be the much needed antidote to your ‘sophisticated ignorance.

There is enough to depress anyone lately, that is, if you allow it. For some of us, we just lose ourselves in keypad punches and ‘finger away’ pent-up frustrations.

From the wilderness, sorry, creeks of the River Jordan (Niger, whatever) came a certain Baptist preaching the remission of sins. He had no shoes, ate wild locusts and honey (presumably so, since most of his Countrymen feed better than him). His name is Jo, the Baptist of Otuoke.

Unlike John the Baptist (his predecessor of over 2000 years), Jo the Baptist could work miracles. Like, turning a Company of Zealots (some call them Militants) into Josephs of Arimathea (so rich they can loan you a Mausoleum) of some sorts.

Although the ‘Amnesty’ miracle was birthed by his predecessor, he (Jo) it was who visited the creeks. Thousands of ‘repentant’ zealots came down by Warri River to lay down their Mark 4s to study War no more.

Alas! The Creeks still bleed and pipelines get punctured every now and then, but it is not the Ministry of Jo to end that, there cometh One after him who would baptise y’all with brimstone and fire!  Amen, Somebody, anybody!

Some Kings of the North heard the feat of Jo and pleaded for him to repeat the same Miracle with another group of zealots in the North who have held the region/religion hostage…..Alas! He could do no mighty works there because of their unbelief except a heavily guarded visit.

Bar(awo)Alams was a notorious Robber/Insurrectionist, yet Jo the Baptist a la Pontius Pilatus style, freed him  and delivered himself to be crucified in his place.


Unlike intolerant John the Baptist, Jo never called the Religious Leaders of the day Brood of Vipers! (Pauses before LWKMD contortionists decide to read the 4D into this logic).

Jo is married, and miracles run in his wife’s veins too, like: Coming to life after being dead for 7 Days, making an entire nation laugh through the power of her spoken words (English). As a matter of fact, it is the Writer’s opinion that Dame Lazarus la Stella Maria should write a book, and she should be canonized alive! (Caveat, Contortionists).


Jo has disciples, mostly sworn to do even greater works. You all probably grew up reading how Jesus fed 5000 (Five Thousand) People with 2 little fishes and 5 loaves of bread and you wondered in awe. Well, have you heard of 1 Million Naira (about $6300 /£ 4150) ‘Mr Bigg’s’ Lunch for Six (6) Party Chairmen! Those who criticized him have no inkling what God’s Will is! (Beware, pun creators).

Jo loves the poor, probably more that the Poor Man of Assisi whom the current Pope is named after. He is frustrated about the Miracle of Subsidy which does not benefit the poor but only benefits the affluent Middleclass. But the people spoke of stoning him the last time he tried to stop the Miracle.  But then, perhaps the bigger miracle is the Palliative Miracle which only the eyes of faith can see…Dear Reader, if you can/have not see/seen this miracle, kneel down, repent and be baptised by the great Jo of Otuoke!

Jo really wants to be like Jesus, he just seems to have his own terms of aspiration. Jesus was hated by the Religious leaders of the day because he hired a Tax Collector and even dined with one. If you are not familiar with Judeo-Roman history, you just might find it hard to understand why the Jews hated Tax Collectors. They (the Tax Collectors) were the ‘Face’ of their Roman Oppressors. Worst part is that the Tax Collectors were not Roman, they were fellow Jews! Tax in those days, wasn’t anything like the modern Pay As You Earn, even though the trend is similar. Conquered territories were forced to pay their new ‘Masters’ from their toil and a Tax Collector was appointed from among the conquered tribe.

These ‘Tax Collectors’ love their Jobs and are more than eager to please their Masters. They lived under the delusion that they were a superior race to their own fellow Jews….this is not some history lesson; abegi if you still can’t figure, ever heard about the ‘House Negro’?

These Tax Collectors abound today, they are the face of an Oppressive Government that never had to clash Swords nor run Chariots to Rule. Have you forgotten so soon these very words: “We can’t pander to threats of the people we RULE”? If you’ve forgotten who said that, to whom, on what occasion, then you just discovered why you sucked at Religious Knowledge and History at the Secondary School Certificate level!

Jo dines with Tax Collectors, but unlike Jesus, whose presence was enough to convict Zacchaeus about his life of extortion and make him commit to returning extorted funds. What I fail to understand about Jo is how BarAlams would be said to have shown remorse without any announcement of returned loot! But then, maybe I’m wrong, maybe I am yet to fully grasp what remorse/repentance is all about, maybe the rule is, steal, don’t get caught, if you do, Pardon is an option.

Maybe BarAlams deserves praise instead of condemnation. Afterall, crude oil production has increased since he held his ‘Attack Dogs’ on the leash. Every Governor that seeks to loot must raise his own German Shepherds, Chihuahuas, Dobberman, call the Dogs by whatever name, Dog na Dog! You can even chose to cross-breed.  Like some did and raised a Monster in the process.


The Ginger-Cassavabread man is free to ride the back of the Sly Fox to cross the Creeks, I can only hope that Cassavabread man would not morph into Cassavadead man, slain in the midst of the Creeks by his own trusted Dogs/Foxes. (Did y’all read the Ladybird series while growing up? If you didn’t, sorry your childhood is wasted!).

Today, the Daughter of Herodias is dancing, she’s going to dance so well, Herod would make an offer….One can only hope that she’s not going to ask for the ‘Hat’ of Jo on a Wooden Platter!

Footnote: And when the Gas Flare sinks at last behind the Creeks of Old, Peace to this young militant, that comes with Bombs of Words…


-QWERTYTYRANTINO appears on Twitter as @plumbtifex

Rantimus PRhyme: I HAD A DREAM

I dreamt that we were truly independent
That our captors in our freedom were truly interested
That when the union jack was lowered we no longer answered to Downing
But I’m frowning ‘cos they ensured that in debts we’re drowning
The G-8 is clowning with the way that they’re sounding
I feel like screaming in their ears “give us us free”
But no one will allow me so I feel like slipping into a coma
Asking you all to wake me when I’m free
But I won’t, I’m not flying till I finish
You can’t close my chapter, I got too many pages
I dreamt true civilians ruled our country
Not dictators hiding their toga to fool all and sundry
I dreamt that places of worship were not moved by money
They didn’t have to rub it in that truth has fallen
Idolized their tummy, I’m sick of their grumbling
Now everything is tumbling; but I see a new world



Keep your eyes closed as I walk by your side
Hand in hand we go through the darkest aisle
Optimism our opium for the hardest times
We hope we will survive, beneath the Starless skies
We’re crying out for justice, our voices barely heard
We’re just another face, on Mark Zucker’s Berg
We tell our sordid tales to Jack Dorsey’s Birds
Hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus’ beard
They say that fair is foul, they say that foul is fair
Truth is just an artifact, hidden in Devil’s Lair
Even when they drag us, five fingers in the Hair
They can’t leave us in hell; we’re coming up for air
Let your eyes stay closed, but open up your mind
Look a bit more inward, hoping that you would find
The paths the great ones trod see if we can rewind
To the time we met the serpent, and pay him back in kind!



Wish I got to write you, when I had the chance to
Get across a word or two, just to tell you thank you
Wish I did all I could, to light your face with sparkles
As you smile; I wish I said goodbye
All by myself, tonight, I light this candle
Could you really be gone? I need a lie or half-truth
Turn back the clock, someone say the word
Tell me there was no storm, can someone make the clouds move?
Wish your Soul missed her flight, and the trip was cancelled
Open your eyes dear; just take a look around you
Tell us you are alive, so they won’t inter you
Mum is right beside you, crying out her eyes too
Daddy had a bad flu from the day he heard the sad news
He’s trying to be strong, because they said he has to
I hear him blame himself for not being there to guide you
It’s hard to be a man, when death and grief surrounds you
Wish I cared about you, in life more than I now do
Hung on your every word, like they were laws and statutes
Now I know what it’s like, to write a note without you
Commenting and texting, that it was impactful
 If your page were a hall, I’m sure it will be packed full
With friends, family and tears, this world is such a dark room
Why do the good ones go, for death to boost their value?
They say your name means life, so I’m really baffled
Can death swallow life? Did someone rig the battle?
Why is life so saddled with strife and senseless hassles?
Bring that glorious body, let this one be mangled
Death, damn you! I hope you know you’d die too?
God will rip the skies to, gather all the saints
No more would Kidneys fail, no more pain and anguish
Lord, haste the day, this is what I pray
I wish you’d bring her back, but she’s gone to a better place
We need to be reminded that we’re here for a while
The ‘hi’ s and the ‘bye’s ,we smile and we cry,
The ambulance, the hearse, humanity, the curse
How long would we mourn, friends and family gone?
Their memories live on, in our hearts, they’re reborn
They are watching from beyond, this threshold of pain
Smiling at our ignorance, for thinking they are lost
If our hopes are confined to the spheres of this life
And can’t figure why we’re born till  we die
Call us pathetic, and hang us on a Derrick
Of what use is long-life? See, I’m Eternal
There’s a quickening in my Spirit defying the infernal,
Powers, yeah, they only shine for a while
Drop this body in the Earth, a new one will arise
Shinning like the stars, transcending the skies
So, tell me why we fear to leave it all behind!

Rantimus PRhyme: I USED TO LOVE HER

Images Mock Me
I used to love my Country, I still think I do
Now when I see the flag, everything is blurry blue
It’s like a room of mirrors, images mocking you
You try to seek a way out, the walls are blocking you
Our men love to be daddies; they’re good at keeping Mum!
Leaders pretend to be Gandhis, bleeding and killing us
Clerics are fleecing us, we kneel believing God
We don’t want to be dead Lions, keep us as Living Dogs!
I miss the days Newspapers were simply Black and White
Now everything is colored with media lies and spice
Too many Grey Areas, it’s hard to Bat an Eye
The truth that once was showcased, lost to ‘Smash and Grab’
Whither the stain free banner? Gone with the former Anthem
A Flag with bloody motif, soiled in the hands of Madmen
We’re filled with many visions, nightmares coming in tandem
A sea of clueless faces bow to the ones that scam them
Perpetual Half-Mast

Rantimus PRhyme: Follow The Bleeder

Whither the Maiden of Justice?…her Rapist was the Bailiff
Take hold of my hand and lead me with a blindfold
Through the twisted bends; run me through a Light pole
Rip open my wounds, pierce me like a Psycho
I’m going up in bits, like you’re pounding me with Nitro
The Merchant Ships are here, I heard you plan to sell me
To far distant lands, you never cared for my well-being
The future looks so bleak, I behold it with trembling
It’s time for midnight snacks, now we’re turned to gremlins
Wither the Justice Maiden? She’s no longer a Maiden
You got someone to rape her; I even heard you paid him
He didn’t have the dignity to treat her like a Lady
She had her day in court, her Rapist was the Bailiff
Your forebears sold me, I’m scarred by the betrayal
Deep furrows on my back, my knees are worn with prayers
We watched as freedom died, and vowed to serve her slayers
 She’s buried in our dreams, now we’re up for sale on PayPal!
The Merchant Ships


    The mobile office on 3rd Mainland Bridge
Food, drinks and all, fresh from the fridge
We stay in the sun till our eyes turn beige
Selling your indulgence catering to your binge
We sleep on the slabs praying for traffic
Our hustle runs deep, our pain is graphic
Sadly our prayers are shared by bandits
Let down your glass and get some banging

We stick to the Trade till Kai comes calling


We stick to the trade till Kai comes calling
The Laws may change but the Sky’s not falling
Confiscate our wares and keep us locked in
Gala must go! We keep on hawking
We hardly fall asleep, yet we’re filled with dreams
Of a life of comfort when we can pay our bills
Far beyond the Lagoon, well over the Seas
But then we sight the vans and take fast to our heels!