If I ever become President of this great country for just one day, first of all, I’ll wake up in Aso Rock wearing my pink satin bonnet and immediately cancel that nonsense morning meeting. Let’s not pretend, all those early morning government meetings don’t do anything except steal people’s sleep and give room for old men to be nodding off on national TV.
Instead of cabinet meetings, we’ll have “Cabinet Karaoke”. Every Minister will sing their ministry’s performance so far. If your ministry has been useless, your voice will shake like NEPA light and expose you. If you try to mime, we’ll replace your office chair with a plastic one from Mama Nkechi’s bukka.
Rule Number One:
All politicians must now submit their bank alerts for public viewing. Forget asset declaration. I want to see that GTBank SMS. If your account balance has more commas than your résumé, Oya come and explain yourself live on NTA with Pastor Kumuyi and NTA News anchor asking questions back to back.
Rule Number Two:
Fuel scarcity becomes a criminal offence. Any filling station hoarding fuel will be turned into a swimming pool for the masses. Let us enjoy your land since you don’t want to enjoy your conscience.
And yes, the new national anthem will now be Burna Boy’s “I dey hustle oo!” because that’s what 99% of us are doing in this country, hustling with vibes and pure faith. I’ll commission dancers to teach the entire National Assembly the zanku routine. No dance, no vote.
Now to fashion:
I’m officially banning tight jeans that can’t bend and lace wigs that start from people’s eyebrows. Let’s call it what it is , illegal construction. The Fashion Police Force will now be funded, fully equipped, and stationed at every owambe event. Their job? To arrest people who wear red shoes with green gele.
I’m also restructuring Nigeria’s education system. Every secondary school will now offer a course in “How to Japa Successfully 101”, “Surviving Vibes & Inshallah Economy,” and “Real-Life Mathematics: Calculating Change in Danfo Without Getting Slapped.”
Let’s talk about relationships
As Madam President, I’ll declare national healing day for the heartbroken. All toxic exes will be rounded up and sent to a camp where they’ll be forced to write apology letters with BIC pen and 20 leaves notebook, cursive handwriting only. You break a heart, you hold a biro. It’s that simple.
Oh, and for the people who shout “God when?” on every Instagram wedding post, there’s a place for you too. You’ll be enrolled in National Bae Awareness Scheme (NBAS) training you how to stop falling for people just because they have beard or long lashes.
Lastly, I’ll make it illegal to be sad on my presidential day. Sadness will be taxed. If you're caught frowning without permission, you must do stand-up comedy at CMS bus stop for 30 minutes. If you make five people laugh, you're free. If not, you’ll be sent to our Ministry of Laughter for rehabilitation through AY skits and Basketmouth’s early jokes.
And when my 24 hours is up? I won’t leave silently*
I’ll do a photoshoot with my full gele, throw up the peace sign, and drop the mic with one final decree:
“Na laugh go help us survive this Nigeria. So if you no fit laugh shift!”
Image is Ai generated
