Lagos e jugo mehn!

The cup is filled to the brim and is running over. Now, everyone wants to fetch from the cup and their hands fill up the entire cup. All hands are now stuck, they can’t even get a drop.

People keep fleeing because the other Governors still sleeping. They peep for a while and the next minute, they get on the next bus. Of course, these travelers are off to the city that never sleeps.

Some of these travelers have an uncle that knows an aunty whose brother-in-law lives in the center of all things excellent.

Now, the city is filled up and very few people have found the missing dreams which brought them thus far. Where do they go from here? Anywhere else but where they came from. They look around and there are little or no options to choose from.

Plan B got to be an escape route from this zone to anywhere else but the other 35 zones. At least 35 chiefs are sleeping and have sworn not to wake up from their slumber.

Now, the masses can’t take it anymore. They are willing to die in the Sahara or upon their entry to the ‘promised land’. Some would rather rot in jail elsewhere than remain imprisoned in the confines of the type of freedom their fatherland offers.

For those who can just manage to get by on a daily basis, they remain stuck in the land of ‘excellence’ till they are gone. When they are gone, they are taken back to the villages. The villages have now become a burial ground. No development, no growth, all because the zonal chiefs believe more in statues and lifeless edifices than the human beings who chose them.

Back in the land of excellence, a dollar remains a fortune for many. So many smiling zombies everywhere!

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