The Reality Column

Lord Lugard “Blast this infernal contraption! Why won’t this blasted thing type ‘Nigeria’ correctly? What the heck is Naija?” Lord Frederick Lugard muttered. Then, using an archaic telephone, he dialed zero and shouted:    “Operator, get me London! I’ve got two large protectorates to sign into a whole country and I’m running out of ink!” “Smith, where are you?” Smith, his assistant, rushed in, looking disheveled. “Yes, my lord. What seems to be the problem?” “This wretched machine won’t type ‘Nigeria’ correctly!” said Lugard. “It keeps writing ‘Naija’ and ‘Nigga River.’ Missy Flora won’t let me touch her this night, if I don't get this right”! Amalgamation House in Ikot Abasi Dressed in his colonial attire of short and long-sleeved shirt, Lord Lugard sat at a desk cluttered with stacks of papers. He was agitated. Smith tried to stifle his laughter. Outside the ancient structure, the cool sea breeze whizzed by. Welcome to the    Amalgamation House in Ikot Abasi, Akwa ...

  Fathers aren't smiling! Pa Udo, sat on his rickety chair, listening to the radio. A sports analyst with Ernest Okonkwo’s voice was doing his thing. Shortly, the new (old) anthem came on. “Nigeria, we hail thee…Nigerians all are proud to serve, our sovereign MOTHERLAND”! Pa Udo sighed deeply and muttered, “Even the anthem has turned against us.” The President and the lawmakers singing the old-new anthem. The just discarded anthem asked us to “arise…To serve our FATHERLAND.” But Tinubu and his clownish lawmakers said that anthem made everything, except our manhood, to “arise.” Inflation. Fuel price. Cost of living. Corruption. Insecurity. High blood pressure. Etc.  It's not just the change in words; it’s a symbolic coup de grâce. From “fatherland” to “motherland!” Fathers, once proudly mentioned in our national anthem, now find themselves sidelined, yet again. It's as if the nation has decided that fathers are best left in the background, quietly holding the fort while moth...

This represents N20 million Ladies and gentlemen, gather here,let’s gist. Okay, you already know the digital realm is currently reeling from shock. Yes o. A young lady     boldly claimed she rakes in N20 million from one man in just a week. Yes, you heard right. Twenty. Million. Naira. In one week!   So, let's talk about the real heroes here – we, the spenders!  Flavour challenged me the other day: “how much is money?” Ater that, I started dishing out cash with the finesse of a seasoned philanthropist. Yet, no one trumpets my generosity to the world.  The other day, I embarked on a spending spree that would make Bill Gates envious. Did anyone announce it on social media? No. Did I expect a medal? Absolutely not. I simply did what any serious man would do. I bought school bags for my daughters. Yes, you heard me. Stylish, durable school bags, ensuring they stroll into their classes with the swagger of future leaders. I treated my sisters to ice cream, becaus...

  Chinedu pushes a squeaky, battered cart through the chaotic market. His middle-aged face is a mix of determination and frustration as he maneuvers through the throng of people. He’s deep in thought. No smile! "Ah, Nigeria! See suffering. Smile, nko? Not today, o. Now, even a loaf of bread is like buying a plot in Banana Island," he mutters. At    Mama Nkechi’s tomato stall, he stops. The prices are displayed prominently, almost as if to mock the onlookers. It looks more like a joke. Chinedu: “Mama Nkechi, how much for these tomatoes?” Mama Nkechi: “My broda, nah five thousand o. You know things are tough.” Chinedu is shocked: “Five thousand naira for this small container? Are these tomatoes or gold nuggets? Do they come with a free plot of land?”  They both laugh, but more out of shared misery than genuine amusement. Just now, Ngozi, Chinedu’s wife arrives, balancing their youngest child on her hip. She looks as worn out as an overused tyre. Ngozi: “Chinedu, I’ve b...