Dear President Buhari,
I couldn't post the other letter that I wrote to you because the Nipost staff couldn't help with an address. Plus the fact that their scary disposition frightened me to the bones. I stepped out and then threw the letter to the wind to help me deliver it as the characters in our moonlight tales would do. I'm not sure you got it.
But you heard about the butchering of your fellow humans in Agatu, Enugu. Even if you were locked up in a room, the words spoken outside your room would have filtered into it. Terms like "Cutlass, slaughter, death etc" can tear down bricks and enter, they can even enter a Bank's vault and push some millions out of it.
What have you said about it, Papa? We the Nigerians have been expecting to hear from our commander in chief. We never expected this destructive silence you offered. This is bullshit, Mr President. It is damn bullshit.
Whatever be the reason for your sudden dumpness, I hope you know that we are not ready for any excuses whatsoever. No matter how palatable you present it-garnished with white lies and wretched strategies or plans to bring Israelis to come and fight this battle. We won't accept that.
The scale of injustices and manslaughtering under your watch has leaped to a mountainous range that we have ran out of numbers. We can't even dare count for the figures would be horrific. All we need is an automatic zero killings. Don't let some alleged herdsmen sacrifice the People you were supposed to protect.
Remember that we can help ourselves. If you allow us take laws into our hands, we will even puncture the roof of your presidential jet so that it'd leak water into its fine inside and stain your white agbada. We'd make the whole country inhabitable for your fulani strangers.
Nigeria has been punctured and cracked in many many corners. With the way you are overlooking these killings and other critical issues, you might be the VERY LAST President of Nigeria. The intellectuals have already informed those of us who can read that Nigeria is held in a fragile clasp and that we are poised at the tip of a knife, maybe the kitchen knife we used in killing and cutting the sokoto red breed of goat into lumps last Christmas. We made and ate the peppersoup made from the meat from the goat and washed it down with Pineapple juice.
Do Respond.
A concerned educator,
Thank-God Eboh.
Thank-God Eboh.
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