“When things are like hunky dory, every enemy comes in the name of friend, but when things are twisted like turmoil, every friendly enemy shows you their color” – Michael Bassey Johnson
Pardon me for taking too long to post an article on this platform. OK, OK, OK…I know a lotta folks don’t give a phuck about my crazy posts and rants, not to talk of reading them. Fine, so let me assume that I am a lonely drunkard in an empty auditorium, facing empty white seats, a half empty bottle of brandy in my right hand, apologizing for not posting and ranting for a while. Alright, I am done apologizing jor. Onto the next one!
I had a lot going on. First of all, I had to give a befitting burial to Captain, my dead Alsatian pet dog. Yeah, he passed away after a brief illness. Ok, I lied! In all honesty, the crazy dog took its life; he jumped in front of a speeding vehicle and was crushed to death. I never knew dogs also commit suicide. Tragic! After that incident, I had to take some swimming lessons after the Oba threatened Igbos that they’d swim with the fishes at the bottom of the ocean if his candidate doesn’t win the gubernatorial elections. See Oba dey form The Godfather o! I had to take the swimming lessons ‘cos I was in Gidi then. Then I also had to go for confessions twice in a week; I lied a lot in the past month that I couldn’t keep track of all my lies. I could go on and on but lemme not bore y’all with my miserable tales.
*takes another sip of brandy and keeps talking to the empty auditorium*
So I came across an article eulogizing President GEJ for conceding defeat at the just concluded presidential elections. Some crazy individuals even suggested he should be handed the Nobel Peace Prize. Peace Prize for what? For doing what he was expected to do? Niggarrrr Pluueeezzzzz! It’s just like handing over some gold coins to a kid for doing his homework. In my opinion, GEJ did what he had to do because the alternative option was going to be a long lonely walk to the ICC. I guess he thought about Laurent Gbagbo and Blaise Campaore before he made that phone call to GMB.
I commend GEJ for actually making a decision without recourse to the advice of his praise-singers; the ones I call ‘YES MEN’. And in doing so, he has engraved his footprints on the sands of time.
Personally, I feel this bunch of ‘YES MEN’ was a major reason why the president seemingly forgot his priorities and went about doing stuffs that alienated him from the common people. Tales of Nigeria becoming the economic hub of Africa was a sharp contrast to the reality on the ground; the poverty and unemployment that engulfed the nation, just to mention two. Call them ‘YES MEN’, ‘YES WOMEN, or ‘YES PEOPLE’…e no matter. They are all the same; a bunch of evil folks that wouldn’t waste any time in singing praises and candy-coating lies just to make their pay-master happy.
Surrounding oneself with ‘YES MEN’ has almost always proved catastrophic. They’d gladly tell you your shit smells like the latest fragrance by Yves Saint Laurent, or that the sweat from your armpit could cure cancer.
A lotta celebrities have committed media hara-kiri because of ‘YES MEN’. World leaders have made stupid decisions because of these venomous sycophants and fawning parasites. I am pretty sure the person that encouraged Bill Clinton to allow Monica suck his pecker was a ‘YES MAN’. OK, I am just kidding though. But having a ‘YES MAN’ around you is a risky thing to do because you would never hear the truth from the person, no matter how much you crave for it.
It is therefore pertinent to do everything we can to avoid such toadyish flatterers; godless phucks that have no personal ideals and principles to live by. They’d gladly embark on extreme praise singing to massage your ego. They abound in their thousands on a daily, sheepishly seeking for their next victims. In politics, they are the ever-smiling fat chinned folks that’d gladly tell you there is no big deal in removing the fuel subsidy on New Year’s Eve, even if it translates to more hardships for the common people. In relationships, they are the ones that would gladly tell you that the cologne you are wearing smells like cherry blooms, even though it smells like one of the cheap poisonous chemicals Abokis sell on the roadside. And the list goes on and on. But that’d never be our portion. We’d never fall prey to their antics. Olorun maje! Can I hear a big AMEN?
The truth could be a bitter pill to swallow but learning to accept the truth no matter how bitter the taste is would go a long way in breeding some form of happiness and self fulfillment. Capisce!