Mr. President, should we postpone Xmas?

My dear president, I’m putting this here because, from what

we are told, we finally now have a president, who reads newspapers and sometimes even venture this far to read back page columns. By now, you should be a bit tired of reading about how great you are doing; how you are such a messiah and how light has improved because of your body language. I’m sure you are secretly amused at the flatterers, who dare not tell you some of the things I want to bluntly share with you.

And I know you won’t be mad at me for being straight with you. Sir, they tell you light has improved, and I testify it has in some places, but what about the hunger in the land?

Sir, the truth is that your citizens are starving under those bright lights. The small businesses now have light to power their generators. Problem is that the customers are not coming because of poverty. The barbing salon where I go to complain of low patronage; the dry-cleaner also tells me market is slow. Same with the guy I get my fish from. Real people; real businesses running this economy each day. When I pointed to the light they sighed and exclaimed, “money no dey. Na light people go chop?”

Mr. President, for whatever reason, your citizens are not feeling the change you keep talking about. They see you as a tough leader, since your promoters want you to be seen that way. They see how you go after the looters and your genuine commitment to cleaning the Augean Stables; it’s all good but the people still haven’t felt the change. They want protection but what they get now is kidnapping and robberies. There are robberies happening in certain places in Abuja, not too far from where you live, Mr. President. We are not even speaking of the suburbs and the hinterlands. So, where is the protection and security you promised? What exactly did you promise because, sir, seriously we haven’t seen any changes.

Ok, people are more scared now to touch public money, but couldn’t it be because they are figuring out how to do this without being caught? My take is that it is not enough to run this country using the fear factor. There must be institutions and systems that make stealing difficult. People don’t cart money away in the United States, for instance, not because they are scared of President Obama. There is nothing like the “fear of Obama”, yet society works well. They have technologies in place and systems that make it almost impossible to embezzle public funds.

The problem with this body language technology of yours, Mr. President, is that very soon people would begin to get the wrong signals. In fact, in some circles now, Mr. President, people are not as scared of you as they were the first time. Before your 100 days, you needed to see how scared Nigerians were of you, sir. They were even frightened merely by your portraits on the wall of their offices. But with recent developments, your citizens have started seeing you in more Nigerian lights. The fact that your cabinet is about to be peopled by questionable characters is also encouraging the new image of you. They think you are also a paddy-paddy man!

And the economy, oh the economy; I don’t know what they are telling you, sir, but we your citizens are going through the toughest period of our lives. TSA could mean Terrible Suffering Arrangement, for all that many care about. I get request for money from people I never imagined would do that; I also now beg people I never imagined I would for money; a neighbour packed up and relocated to his village the other day; another one separated from his wife; people are now doing one square meal a day; the churches are getting filled to the brim by your citizens, looking for a miracle; sick people can’t afford their medical bills; businesses are folding up; more people are getting faint-hearted with High Blood Pressure topping the chart as the number one killer.

Sir, it would be hard for you to see all of this by just speeding by in your convoy. On the streets, your citizens are all gay and happy. That is how we are wired: The happiest people in the world. We still manage to look well-dressed; we still attend shows; we still manage to have our birthdays and do our weddings; we still smile; we are still civil in our dealings; we still go to bed hoping for a better day; we are like that because we are Nigerians. So, Sir, don’t try to verify this by peering into faces. Nigerians are naturally born actors and actresses – they would fool anyone. We are the nation of suffering and smiling, remember?

I don’t even know how you would do it but Mr. President, you have to urgently bring back the good life. Your austerity measures should have a human face. Your people are anxious to love and support you but hunger and fear are not a good mix. And neither are we impressed with your slow and steady method. It took you all these months to set up a cabinet and when you eventually unveiled the names, they were people you could have easily picked on May 29.

We hope your government would start working now. Please, Sir, there is deep hunger in the land. What’s the point having a democracy when people have lost their self-esteem? Nigerians are proud people, but many have thrown that out the window. They now beg to survive. My dear president, you ran on the slogan of change. The only change I see is that you and a few people around you are now glowing. I see the changes in you as your features are getting more robust and softer and your agbada is glistening. I thank God for your life but, frankly, your country men don’t care about how the First Family is faring; they care more about their kid who is out of school; they care about the husband who just got laid off; they worry about the brother who can’t find a job; they don’t care about the quality of your cabinet or your trips round the world. No! They believe in you and they want you to hurriedly end the poverty in the land. If you don’t do this, Mr. President, many of us would have no option but to postpone this year’s Christmas.