In Sifia Pain

I’m in sifia pain but how do I continue to survive in a country where I’m constantly disenfranchised?

Every four years, the promises come rolling in but for the next three years, the suffering remains intense. In the fourth year, they come back with the same promises.

You promised to open up the waterways, attract foreign investors and overhaul the transportation sector last time. You also promised to eliminate the causative factors of traffic gridlock. Four years later, I’m still stuck in a rickety danfo and I’m in sifia pain.

You urge me to live within my means. You commission ‘world class hospitals’ and advise to me seek medical attention within my country. When you are ill, you travel abroad for medication but when I’m in sifia pain, I can’t even afford medication from the neighborhood chemist.

Did I hear you say free meal for school children? Same kids being flogged for their parents not paying school fees even when ‘education is free’?

I’m in sifia painwe still pay tolls for substandard roads whose traffic lights almost never get to work. The traffic jam? You can start reading a book and finish it before you arrive at your destination.

The boys from Abakaliki are still trooping into Lagos where they chase after vehicles, risking their lives just to sell handkerchiefs. I’m in sifia pain because I totally understand this is not how people should live but I am also aware of the lack of quality opportunities in more habitable states.

The pain is even more sifia when I realize that all the young people with bold, brilliant and inspiring ideas who ran for elective positions in 2019 have all grabbed a duvet each and gone back to sleep. It hurts sifialy because in late 2022, they will wake up, brush their teeth and step out with bold claims and plans of changing Nigeria for good.

Writing this leaves me in sifia pain too because I see all the problems but I don’t see help coming from anywhere.

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