Day 4 of the 15-day lockdown writing challenge.
’Dear sir, ’ I begin.
Wait. No one uses that anymore. I think?
Of course not. I’m addressing the number one citizen. That’s way too plain. Right? I mean, number one is relative but let’s keep to formality.
Dear sir it is.
Do you remember that you swore to be faithful and bear true allegiance to the Federal Republic of Nigeria? Because you haven’t been faithful to me in the least. You do not show faux allegiance to me let alone one that is true. Perhaps you don’t know what I expect of my loyal. Let me enlighten you.
I expect that you defend all of my rights starting from the ones that simply require your signature. This works both ways, however. For one, you hold that pen in your hand after you read and realise that nothing in that bill brings me purposeful harm. On the other hand, if it does, make sure the bill never sees the light of day. I expect you to think of my well being first. Call it selfish, I call it survival. But that’s not what you do, is it? You check if it’s to your own advantage first. Do you even check? I sincerely want to know.
I expect my loyal to at least fight the small battles even if he won’t fight to the death for me. Mr President, I don’t mean to bore you with trivialities – because that’s apparently what I am to you, a trifle – but I need you to know that the little things are the ones that matter the most.
The unspoken words, your absence, it all matters to me. I shouldn’t have a say, though, should I? Because you’re sworn to the Federal Republic, not a minutiae like myself, right? Well, Mr President, I need you to know that I – and everyone like myself – might be a detail, but we surely aren’t insignificant. Understand that and I promise you’d be better at your job.
On a final note, Mr President, I know your oath ends: ‘so help me God’ but I hope you realise that He can’t help you till you at least seem like you want help.
A Detail of The Federal Republic of Nigeria