Dear Nigerians, I am a Bullet


Dear Nigerians, 

I am a bullet. 

Born out of the bitterness of your days, I have seen the wrath in your eyes, the sorrow in your brows, and the agony woven into the rags that you wear. 

I hereby pledge my undying loyalty to you. 

But before you pull the triggers, my dear friends, you should know. You should know that I have kissed the dust that paved your paths; I have made blood pacts with your ancestors. You can only speak of war, of battles; but I thrive by these words.

You should know that my heart, just like yours, may falter in our bid for justice or whatever it is that you seek. Do not blame me; for I am a wild fire, and like you, I lose all senses of reasoning in a fit of rage. But I promise you that when the time comes (and it will surely come), you and your kinsmen will not die from my heat; you will all die from the hatred within. 

Do you not know that brute force is not a show of strength? Indeed, man's greatest power lies in his intellect. Then, shouldn't a son know that he does not inherit his father's wisdom simply by wearing his cap? Elders are full of wisdom, so shouldn't they know that even the youngest thorn can prick? That the boy will eventually become a man? 

Let me tell you, my dear friends. Disowning your sons does not change their fathers' names; and renouncing your household names doesn't rid you of your ancestry. Then how do you win a fight against yourselves? On whose door does victory knock when every soldier fights for himself? 

Wait, who even says that victory is guaranteed? Who would sing its songs when the remains of butchered country men are laid down like sacrificial lambs? When drops of tears are sipped as wine? Or have you not heard? That war will make everyone forget: The moans of water caressing the golden sands of the beach; the tender tune of a mother's lullaby; the giggles of wine cups that clatter and clang when men adorn themselves in robes of hysteric bliss? 

But then, of what use am I if diplomacy wins every time? 

You may pull the triggers now, my dear friends. After all, you are humans and I am a bullet. 

And killing you is what I do. 



Thank you for reading. Please leave your comments.

Contact Form


Email *

Message *