NO TO GERONTOCRAZY
For years I’ve been leaning on mother’s towel sometimes I will deny meal I will actively be awake to reach church premises before any other member could I will ensure all house chore are completely look-into, I will assist and carry all responsibility as if they’re mine. Before she’s rose from sleep I’ve started Morning Prayer without objection. I wanted the best be done Yet anytime I stealthily etch to mothers lounge to debate the breast-milk of a child the desire of my heart she’ll sheepishly dab a ferociously.
I don’t sleep the same house with her since am out of school. Her coworkers knows me as a bag-snatcher. They call me infiltrator. They say I was one that assassinate her spouse. They call me moniker of names.
This one thing I on no occasion dream of: my presence in the family is like I should go on émigré. People perish in Sokoto-State through Boko-Haram bomb explosion, she say am amidst. Chibok-school-girls shanghaied, they say am involved. She fail-to-recall her avocado wallet in Mr. BSc supermarket, they say I stole it.
For the reason that she was pregnant with triple when her husband demise.
For the reason that she was gorgeous and admirable in deeds when he died, the blames must be push on me – I’d be the one on kitchenette and on émigré.
My two sisters are on no occasion contented with the kind of charisma mother is wearing and clandestinely don’t ignore. They know the best way to consult an enchantress is to kill the inside agents. Regardless of how I love mum, mum still hawk me on bags.
This has generated an antagonism between me and my sisters, they aren’t supportive, the know how she mishandle and configure me like birdie without plumages, know how she chinwags me –and I have seeing how her associates tease me in blacklist.
I’ve tried all best, I have gone on fasting, and bolt myself inside lions dome.
I’ve gone to other neighborhoods to beg people to plead mum, to tell her am elegant and not infuriated. On the morrow, they’ve arise as many requested and beg, all these had just an entertainment – she’ll eavesdrop yet disdain.
The day Joyce open-up to declare, to tell the people how mum had been using our late father’s remunerations to entertain foreigners or aliens, to host festivities. Her associates put her in a blacklist. She became part of me and a follower of me. We became two in one eating lawns and pottage from rich parents table.
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We were no longer children, we still behave like them. The muscularity of boldness became matters. We were twenty-two but people discuss us as eighties. We were without facial hairs then again they picture us as men and women of goatee.
When we appear in domestic houses, mother could utter suspicion, all what she could say must be for lazy bearers. The way we answer her in all stuffs created a catalyst in her heart. The way we approach and endorse the words from her gateway describe a languorous nature of grey hairs.
Patience had abandoned us, she’s been pilfered into the wildlife of mother and wiles, and she’s been espoused from akin of Abel to Caine. She want to dramatize us back as millionaire. She want to tell mum without us she can survive.
We were not mindful of these, it’d be devastated.
For the sake we were two – we were better than one. Often, Joyce do wee-wees on bed. Mum won’t say she’s committed sin and if we do she’d.
Obviously, we decided to visit Okujagu ministry located at No. 5 Birabi Street G.R.A Port Harcourt for assistance. Our sole aim was that we wanted to know the roots for mums’ denunciation. Okujagu Priest was able to give us what we expected but not to what we needed. He said “your mum love both of you but don’t want to assist you.” we didn’t understand. “How could she love us but don’t want to assist us?” We needed the priest to enlarge, tell us what he means. Finally, the priest told us that he can’t help us. He even shouted on us to leave his office. We left. But turn to capture the image of his foundation. The first shrine we visited told us that mum is only jealous with her late spouse. The second prophetess we got-to tell us that mum is suffering from mosquito bite and she ordered us to go and return the next day with five jalopy of minerals. We couldn’t fulfill the task, for the money we had not. We decided to visit free checkup hospital whose registrar was a black dwarf man yet full of tiers. The last home we exited-to be our home because we had truly search all acme and boundaries and couldn’t found the solute.
We call mother into our private chamber, patience sat by the lame cushion. This was the best time for family matters –things that matters a lot to be discuss – this was the right time for us to exterminate the agents. Mother was too young (depreciation) to answer all our questions.
She begin with tears. It flushed and revolved our darks. It rain and dust passion on us. The nastiness that once hook in us fades.
Mother didn’t want liberation because she believe truth hadn’t meant for told.
According to her, the reason why she neglected our interest in school was because she wanted us live, feed and swim under the belly of politicians. She wanted me especially to be the next president of Nigeria. She gave me a clue of proof about 2015 to 2018 president in Nigeria who attended secondary school but haven’t West African examination council certificate. She made mention of GERONTOCRACY with twelve letters, it was so grammatic, I had to pardon her again and again. She said she want us to join and contest against it. I wanted to ask her what our elderly daddies have done that she don’t want them to rule. Before I could drop my word, her answer have arrived. She said, for the past few years gerousia have been using our budget to sponsor their children in higher institution, fly them to outer cities and countries, provide them good furniture’s and mansions, make themselves millionaires while we the masses suffer.
When we heard of this, we dread in fears. In my view I was upset –my senior secondary school mates were now in tertiary institution, in abroad eating cheap money, getting fresh and rich everyday. There was nothing we could do. Father abandon us when we were yet unborn and now the same game is played in mother. Patience was now a millionaire, in that we believe she’d no excuse.
We decided to go on break, not to showcase our faces in their presence. We took up research, browse and search the internet, spy and spy bloggers, eavesdrop to broadcasters each time cock crew for 7am or 7pm silver-bird update.
Whatever mother was hoping us do was dangerous, bizarre and longwinded. I don’t know if she sees the consequences, all politicians are not clean. They’ve dipped and soaked hands in blood. They’ve taken bribes and becomes immortal. They’ve killed and burn their love-ones alive, use most of them for rituals. They work hand in hand with devil.
All our research was to confirm if what mother was saying was really true. And what if it wasn’t true? Further explanation could speak.
The room we were was no television talkless of radio to feed us information. Nathan, our friend, had television but no radio. As long as it tune both silver-bird and rivers state television, we tag kowtow.
There was tele and vision in our main parlor but since we didn’t want to inter-associate with mother and her wildlife. We’ve to park to Nathan’s house and stayed with him.
Our presence in Nathan’s house created nationwide-hatred between us and his grandma. She didn’t want to see any boy-girl in her son’s house, but wanted a female gender.
That was never my concern I only hoped and wish all our research could be successful.
That nocturnal while Nathan and his grandma were asleep, I and my sister stayed back. We stayed all throughout the night expecting news to be read. Unfortunate, that nocturnal, broadcasters were fed-up, exhausted and so the executive director of silver-bird (Sen. Ben Murray Bruce) decided to switch-off the station. The news was later read on morning. Nathan and his grandma were awake. They saw how we slumber on the chair with our eyes pointing the tele. The way we shout, Jump and Sit reminds him of the world-wide youth celebration day. It was displayed on the TV. That particular day was youth world day where many express themselves, of not done by leadership. We all match out except Nathans grandma and the old grey gateman. Nathan carried us on his car. He drove us to Spar. He took us to badagry slave museum, kalakuta republic museum, the black heritage museum, the national museum, the mindscape children museum, the Hi – impact planet amusement park, Eden parks and Gardens – ikeja, and the third mainland bridge which is the longest in Africa and the longest of three bridges in Lagos state and was built by Julius Berger and opened in 1990 by President Ibrahim Babangida.
When he finally drove us back to Presidential Hotel in Port Harcourt. I got to know what Gerontocracy was all about. They say it is a society where leadership is reserved for elders. They say it is a form of oligarchical rule in which an entity is ruled by leaders who are significantly older than most of the adult population. They say the ancient Greeks were among the first to believe in this idea of gerontocracies. And as famously stated by Plato, they said “it is for the elder man to rule and for the younger to submit.”
Because of this, we change the slogan from yes to Gerontocracy to No to Gerontocracy – our youth must rule and not the adult…..
