As yawa don gas, Calabar how market? II

So, before the gist, drum rolls please, don’t ask why (lol).

Okay, amma tell yo, I finally visited the bird app yesterday after ten days of being away. I needed my sanity, fam. I’m glad I have it within grasp now. I hope you do too. ♥️

Meanwhile, is it just me, or does today not feel like a Saturday to you too? It’s a blissful Monday evening here in Calabar. How is your health?

In my last blog entry I mentioned how the city was looted, well, I came with goodnews. (I’m going to pretend that I didn’t watch a video of my state’s governor selling his pathetic sob story to youths today, because, if we talk about it ehn? Oh, well…)

The government had announced that the army would go from house to house recovering items that were stolen and asked that its citizenry return stolen properties to the nearby junctions.

When I heard this, I scoffed. I really didn’t think any one would return a pin; it was a pleasant surprise when we woke this morning to piles of stuff at major/minor junctions.

It got me thinking, so pipu dey fear military?

Whether they returned it out of fear or contempt, I’m glad things were recovered. I hope they will be disembursed appropriately.

Which brings me to what I wanted to talk about yesterday.

What if by discernment, I was able to find all the stolen items and help the military return them to the rightful owners? Or by creative miracles, I could restore the buildings and restock them?

Yunno on Tuesday when Lekki toll gate massacre was ongoing, I prayed for the affected persons, but, as I prayed I was pondering on something: what if every believer was able to master the supernatural so much that we could bilocate to the toll gate, carry people to safety, heal the wounded and raise the dead, thus reducing casualties to zero?

If this is some alien stuff to you, you’ve probably not studied church history, and that is absolutely fine. Yunno, this is the stuff the early church was made of and known for—supernatural activities.

I thought of the lives that would have been saved, the families that would not have to weep, the joy that such intervention would have brought and the hope too…

Yunno a lot of people prayed to God to save them that day and still died, not because God didn’t save them, but because we (you and I, believerd in Jesus) did not save them.

Whilst I am glad the dust is settling and this crisis is over, I wonder, am I , as a believer, prepared to help in event of another crisis? Are you?

May God keep us from temptation and deliver us from evil.

Xoxo.

GJ.

Saña suñ! (Safe journey.)

As yawa don gas, Calabar how market?

Omo, it’s amazing how these past two weeks have felt like months. Na only two weeks oh!

As typical with Nigerians, we’re slowly returning to life as it was before the #endsars #endpolicebrutality peaceful protests. And yet, deep down we know we can never be the same again.

Personally, I don’t know where we’re headed as a country, because we’ve not made any palpable progress and yet, our minds have shifted, at least, I want to believe it has.

I’m writing to you from Calabar, and the present governor is a clown. Speaking of clowns, I feel the entire Nigerian leadership is made up of 80% comic characters. Just me saying… Because, how else do you explain Edo state’s governor asking prisoners who escaped in a jailbreak to return to the prison under three days? Na dia you go know sey werey dey disguise.

Protests had since moved from peaceful to looting escapades in various states, besides Calabar, with the discovery of ware houses where palliatives were stored. On Friday, however, the rubber hit the road for we side.

At the place I currently work, which is close to the city’s major market, Watt market, at about 2pm, pedestrians began to run aimlessly. Knowing how crazy “Watt people” can be, we (a few neighbors and I) decided to observe the situation before taking cover. It was rumored that thugs would hijack the protests that day and we were on guard.

After a few minutes, we concluded the panic was triggered by false alarms, unknown to us, the revolution was well underway.

Fast track to late evening on Friday, chaos entered the city, closely followed by carnage after the discovery of some ware houses where Covid-19 palliatives were stored in hundreds. By late afternoon on Saturday, the whole city was as bare as the desert, with flames lighting major buildings in the city.

Everything productive in the city was razed down, including the Federal Psychiatric Hospital and Infectious Disease Hospital on Calabar road and New Edgerly Street precisely; schools, banks, houses of politicians, shopping malls, everything ruinable was invaded.

I know we had protests and people were killed in various states, but I’m telling you what we had in Calabar? That was carnage. Atms were robbed, stores were burgled, people kidnapped, macheted, harassed, to say the least.

If you know Calabar, then you are aware that just a few businesses have thrived in the city, and now, it’s lamentable what fate awaits the populace.

In the midst of this, my joy is untouched, at least not since Friday, I know that light shines brightest in darkness and that is the essence of this read, to remind you that darkness is calling your name.

Let the people that sit in darkness rejoice in your light now more than ever. Light, shine! No loose guard oh! Shine bright. Shine in your locale. If we are great, Nigeria is great again.

I want to talk about something else, but I’ll save that for my next blog post.

Till you read from me again, Saña suñ o! (Have a safe journey).