Today, again, I stand at my balcony which I’ve decided to always stay not because of restriction but because it is where I commune with my companions. It is the realm of a scattered organised intellect. It is where the muse sharpens my sword which I use not to destroy but to scatter and restruct. It is at this unpleasant balcony where many would refuse to stay because it has no roof, no facility that I write what life has decided to show me. I’ve come to realise that life can’t show itself fully to me but I have to show something to life and this is where I call off the racism that exists between the real world and the ideal world. Let me not bore you with myself. Let’s talk about someone else
“booh ah ah ah, salute! Uh uh uh, frakata ta ta booo, I’m a soldier, see my uniform” speaking to no one in particular, he says, “oya let’s sing,
Nigeria yi ti gbogbo wan ni
Ko ma gbodo baje…”
He stops abruptly and looks sideways, there is traffic jam again. He hates this so much. He hates the noise that comes from motorists, pedestrians as shout at one another. He wonders why these people can’t respect and be patient with one another. He hates the fact that they are disturbing his training to join the Nigerian army. He has always been quiet about this but today, he won’t take it lightly with them. He has to teach them some morals.
” Mtcheeew” He hisses as he prepares to go and handle the situation. He enters the scene and finds two men who are dressed in expensive suits, shining shoes, holding each other by the collar of their shirts, saying to each other, “idiot, fool, mad man”. These men are owners of two beautiful and executive cars who have collided with each other because of the traffic jam caused by the damages on the road.
“Will you both shut up and leave yourselves, must you always pollute the society with your madness. I say leave yourselves before I use the power vested upon me by the Nigerian army.” The mad man shouts at them. I couldn’t believe the speed and alacrity with which order was restored to the scene. A mad man giving orders to sane men. Ha! Mogbe! Who then is mad? I don’t know the real Nigerian army because I see two policemen at the scene of the fight but all they do is just pacify the men. No authority, no command at all. Perhaps they don’t intend losing the favour they gain from these men. Or how do we explain it that a mad man is the one who brings peace to a fight scene when there are actually two policemen? I also see a soldier who slaps a motorcyclist all because the latter’s bike refuses to start. Imagine!
I still can’t believe that sanity and sanctity are restored by the logically illogical words of a man called MAD by EVERYONE who claim not to be mad because we are not naked. Perhaps, these people are WERE ALASO because according to ‘’Yeye’’ my granny, madness exists in different types and the only one which is incurable is the one who ran into the market naked. No priest, no herbalist, no witch or wizard can cure this kind of madness. There is another kind of madness which is WERE ALASO which can be cured. His madness can no longer be cured in the real sense, yet he cures some sane people. Maybe, it actually takes a naked mad man to cure those who still have hope of being cured. I think we are‘’WERE ALASO’’. Aren’t we mad? How sure are we that we are not mad? Okadigbo walks naked with tattered hair and has only a stall which has been abandoned by its owner because she doesn’t want the spirit of madness to dwell In her, yet Okadigbo has a dream of joining the Nigerian army and he does so, or don’t you see it?
Abayomi is a policeman because he couldn’t sponsor himself through the university so he joins the police force without thinking twice. Barrister Joseph and engineer Oluseyi are learned but they have refused to be learning, so, they hold eachothers clothes and throw insult at civilization. The government swears an oath to always see to the welfare of its citizen yet the roads are unequal. The roads speak of inequality, some are famished and some have pot bellies and the government says it’s not mad! They say we practice democracy but at any slight protest you actually see the demonstration of craziness where people burn clothes, tyres, things Okadigbo wouldn’t think of let alone doing.
Maybe Granny is wrong, maybe it is the mad man who has entered the market naked that can be cured, maybe the ones who are called ‘’ WERE ALASO” are the ones who cannot be cured. Oh! Granny has twisted everything and she is dead now. How do I then get clarification?
WHO IS MAD?
