Dear @realFemiOtedola,
You locked the comments because a full stomach fears the village. "Àwòdì jẹun èpè sanra." The hawk that emptied the poultry now stands in the sun and praises how fresh the feathers look.
Femi Otedola, the average Nigerian’s light, garri, school fees and hospital deposit do not keep you awake. What keeps you awake is how deep your hand can travel inside the common pot before the lid slams. That is the creed of the Nigerian elite: my belly first. The rest of us can go and greet hunger.
It is the same spirit that sold brothers for rum. Grab whoever is nearest. Collect the bottle. Drink until the eyes turn red. Wake and hunt again. The family left behind can cry until the throat dries; the trader has already forgotten their names.
A man who eats from the communal pot and still asks why the soup is thin has no shame left to lose. The child who sleeps hungry does not care about your net worth. He only knows the pot that should have fed him was emptied by men who will never taste his hunger.
You can mute the comments. You cannot mute the stomachs. When the vulture is full, it says the world is good. The village that is empty already knows the truth.
Yours in Animosity,
@BlazeRegent