Thought Picnic: Earning the Pryce of Revenge in England

England reveals you

Mr. Justin Bieber and his entourage that includes a management team that failed to manage the fallibilities of a pop-star turning into an adult with a fan-base that remains majorly a horde of delirious frenzied kids, might have left the country.

I have no particular dislike for the young man nor can I recognise any of his songs apart from the monotonous Baby that I could not listen to beyond the first minute before I felt like committing hari-kari.

However, England has a way of upending people, there is still a culture and expectation amongst us that foreigners fail to appreciate that they run afoul of all too quickly, Mitt Romney comes to mind.

Help this boy

Earlier, I had expressed utter disdain for the way he traipsed around London with his trousers sagging closer to his ankles than his hips, he deigned to appear literally two hours late, depending on who you believe on a school night for what was essentially a children’s party and then he had a run in with the paparazzi that Justin Bieber suddenly became Justin Bleeper for the expletives that were bleeped out in their encounter.

Walk away, he should have but his exuberance got the better of him and that became the news, that between the sympathy for collapsing on stage, going to hospital, growing older and the other issues as trying to get the under-aged into clubs for his birthday amongst many other things – one can easily suggest his management team be given the pink slip without delay.

Hell receives two new guests

As the saying goes, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” we have seen the intoxicating power of revenge and vindictiveness that it consumes all concerned without respite or mercy.

Chris Huhne, a successful businessman turned politician and member of the cabinet not too many moons ago, took his eyes off his wife of 26 years, Vicky Pryce and laid them on his assistant – all hell broke loose and what had been a marital secret with all the little things many will rather not get aired publicly became headline material.

Apparently, Chris has a penchant for putting his foot down hard, well, on the accelerator and cameras littering English roads seem to get excited at ordinary men playing Formula 1 games on our roads, the licence plate number is captured and a little research reveals who the car belongs to – a fine, some points on your licence and maybe a custodial sentence can slow you down to a grinding halt.

A virtuous wife

10 years ago, Chris was caught but he had accumulated enough points to lose his licence if he admitted to his folly, so out of the intricacies of marital God-knows-what, Vicky, the apparently careful driver, vicariously took the points that should have gone to Chris – a virtuous wife who laid down her honour for her husband or as she claims a wife badgered and coerced to do something against her will, her determination and resolve was raped.

So Chris announced to Vicky that he was leaving her, Vicky in her own right is a very successful economist decided all gloves were off and set out to teach her soon-to-be ex-husband a lesson by revealing this secret marital arrangement to the papers, conversations and emails on the matter are quite interesting, thereby ruining Chris’ career, livelihood, fatherly engagement and earning him a conviction that would most likely include jail time.

Oh Vicky, what have you done?

However, in revealing this Vicky had a fight on her hands too, to be able prove that she also did not pervert the course of justice – after one failed trial and another speedy trial, Vicky will most likely head for the slammer too, she might even end up serving longer than Chris in prison – two lives ruined just because one could not walk away.

The irony of this whole saga is that Vicky is now in another relationship with a politician who also had to resign his seat after admitting he submitted false expense claims. Obviously, I will not attempt to draw any conclusions as to the kind of woman Vicky is or the kind of men she attracts; though I am caught between careless and unfortunate.

Into a book of fables

This is no doubt one of the extreme cases where vengeance becomes a black hole, the vortex of which sucks everything into the pit of hell. In other cases, break-ups that have partners denying each other support, parental privileges and other unnecessarily hurtful things that make us less of the people we are or are able to be.

Sometimes you wonder about how people who sometime ago entered into the contract of holy matrimony with all the fanfare, happiness and I dare say, love - after the passage of time and drifting apart that they need to go separate ways turn out to be so bent on destroying each other – they, rather than cherish the memories of the good times they had together, they obliterate everything in the heat of the moment as if that can compensate for anything.

Many newspapers did not need much inspiration to come up with the headline – The Pryce of Revenge – this must go down in the annals of history as a fable and a lesson – If he/she don’t want you no more, walk away and live your life.

Vengeance is mine, always

As if we were not warned before, this is what the Holy Book says; “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” KJV – Romans 12:19

Much as Chris should not have stepped on it trying Formula 1 tricks on English roads, Vicky should not have attempted to step into the Lord’s big shoes.

Nigeria: Do him for vagrancy

A typical prodigal son

It is difficult to pick up where to begin to do this story any justice but it represents a microcosm of malaise that affects Nigeria, to ignore it is to condone a greater injustice where debate is necessary to deal with the ills that plague our country.

I was drawn to the story when I saw the title, “My father was a governor, but I’m dying of poverty.” [1] At first, I thought, Big Deal, why should your father who having been governor now have any bearing on your life today?

However, on reading the story, I was filled with revulsion, disdain and anger, emotions that could only be assuaged in the slightest by this blog.

A fatherhood of disgrace

This man’s father was Alhaji Barkin Zuwo, a Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria between 1979 and 1983, then Governor of Kano State in 1983. He was an ill-educated stark illiterate [2] who on seeing a number of For Sale signs thought the labelled goods belonged to Saleh.

He is the one of whom was said when asked about the mineral resources [3] in his state suggested the abundance of coke and fanta – minerals being a Nigerian euphemism for carbonated soft drinks. He also preferred to keep state funds in his house than in the bank.

In his lifetime, he had 4 wives and 18 children, a whole brood of incompetents and never-do-wells of which this Tijjani Sabo Barkin Zuwo is one.

Whilst certain religions allow for polygamous marriages, to sire a brood without attendant parental guidance that would allow them thrive and make something of their lives is the height of irresponsibility; it goes without saying that whilst people might not necessarily have large families no proper consideration is taken of what it takes to run a family properly before starting one.

Printing tales of woes

However, this apology of a character who finished secondary school around the time of Murtala Mohammed’s regime which puts it around 1975/76 went on a printing technology course in America sponsored by USAID and apparently made nothing of it.

I would suggest the reason why is because he thought since his father was a politician he could hang on the coat tails of patronage and influence peddling to get by, something many children and relations of people in power do in Nigeria.

Now that the father is dead, the friends who congregated in his harem with their noses to the trough have moved on to other sources of patronage leaving Tijjani and his siblings seeking ways to perfect mendicancy on the reputation of their father in whose home was found 3.4 million Naira cash [4] at a time when the Nigerian Naira was almost par with the British Pound.

That such men have been visited on Nigeria is beyond the pale but worse still is the legacy of beggar children who are all grown up, useless, shameless and without an iota of dignity.

Wasted opportunities for corruption too

If Tijanni with the little and almost inconsequential education he had with all the patronage he could have commanded had played his cards right, he might not have found himself in the sorry state he is in now.

But the sad tale is many children of influential people rest on the laurels of the parent’s achievements and bide their time for the inheritance that eventually gets shared amongst a multitude of leeches that they really do end up with nothing – as the story goes, Tijjani’s slide from riches to poverty started at time of the death of his father.

He suggests his family is not united and there is no love between them – well, why would there be love in a poorly constituted sham of a family of numbers rather than children where the women who think they are wives were just sexual pleasure units of the religiously-sanctioned libido of lustful and lasciviously reprobate men?

Take a breather – Akin!

Hit him on the head with his beggar bowl

Anyway, Tijjani believes if he can unite his family they can take their begging bowls to the current state government and find familial succour as a matter of right.

I can count a good 100 million Nigerians who are more deserving of succour from their government; the 70% who never had a life of privilege or an atrociously corrupt father, who live on less than $2 a day, working hard to make ends meet – Tijjani deserves nothing more from anyone except if he gets off his backside and gets a job, else he should starve like lazy sloths do and die.

It is breathtaking when he suggests that many of his age mates are permanent secretaries and top government functionaries – it is laughable that a cretin with a printing technology certification of sorts thinks he should be in a top government position, Nigeria does tolerate and celebrate mediocrity in excess though.

You lay your own bed, it is not communal

It however highlights a number of issues; the feeling that we should all keep within the average success range of our peers that we cannot countenance the idea of people of a lesser age being in ascendancy and above us – Get real, this is the real world – I had to endure and live through the situation where when I was in my first year, my junior in secondary school was finishing his 5-year course – I faced the situation with dignity and got on with it without regret or commiseration – such is life.

He believes that he has passed the age of applying for a fresh job, well, he must have passed the age for having food on his table too and consequently he is a useless parasitic organism in society breathing air that might be of use to those who are well over his age still working their backs out.

Do him for vagrancy

Tijjani by estimation should be about 50 years old, maybe tops in his mid-fifties, but I doubt he has ever done a decent job in his life and so has no experience or skills to offer the Nigerian marketplace.

If he is anything like is father, he would be too much of a dunce to train for anything – I feel so disgusted to my guts writing these lines but Tijjani’s life probably parallels the lives of many other children of privilege in Nigeria who have done nothing useful in their lives and expect everything to come to them by reason of the hard work of others.

Tijjani apparently has written a bailout letter to the Deputy Governor of Kano State who I believe should dump the letter in his bin but send a reply that if he hears from any of the brood of Barkin Zuwo again they would be charged with vagrancy.

Tijjani “feels a nostalgia remembering the privileges he once had, but which are no more.” I almost find myself sympathetic but I refuse to be overwhelmed with that emotion.

In closing, Tijjani “is optimistic that help is not far away from coming his way.” Not if I could help it, get off your fat lazy arse and find some work, I say in utter exasperation.

Note: The Sun News On-line should use a spell checker and do some proofreading, it is the least to be expected of a newspaper – that is not to say I am perfect, I am always reviewing my blogs

Sources

[1] My father was a governor, but I’m dying of poverty – Barkin Zuwo’s son - The Sun News On-line

[2] Etteh: Language as physiognomy of the mind - The Sun News On-line

[3] The Varnishing tribe of glamorous politicians - The Sun News On-line

[4] Crippled giant: Eghosa E. Osaghae - Google Book Search: Book Preview Page 174

Eliot Spitzer: A man like you and me

The fall of man

The resignation of Eliot Spitzer as the Governor of New York State brings to the fore the sad tale of another man who had a public persona radically different from his private life. Too many examples abound, not for this blog to list.

Now, I am not going to rake over the salacious coals and dregs that the tabloids and newswires are already doing with aplomb, I could not better any of them as they wallow in the gutter over the man’s misfortune.

Our strengths and our secrets

Let us come back to the substance of what makes us human beings, our great strengths, our vigorous fights, our unwavering activism and our deep felt convictions.

Then ask ourselves that one question that we never get to handle before we are caught out and left in disgrace, dishonour and shame.

What is it that I am so publicly against and so identified with as a crusader that I for my weaknesses as a man cannot avoid participating in and revelling in whilst fearing getting caught out?

Caught out

Then wonder if you are going to be smart enough to find ways to deal with it now or still be driven by the thrill of it that its addiction would lead you to the worst place you never want to be.

Exposed, caught out, pants down, torch shining on your face, facing down the barrel of the gun, captured vividly on celluloid, made a laughing stock of or even made a public show of.

We are really holier than thou

Too many men have suffered from getting caught in a weakness that evolves into what we all can smugly call hypocrisy from our “Holier than thou” temples of saintliness – we are but men, weak, prone to failure, able to make mistakes and sometimes unable to help ourselves.

As we try to remove the speck from the eyes of others who have fallen, do we fail to notice that we have been blinded by tree stumps too big to yank out of our ever observant eyes, held in place by the utter disgust expressed in our so horribly contorted faces but with branches that clear the way for our mouths to speak words that condemn others to oblivion beyond redemption?

Before you step forward to cast the first stone without the thought of your eligibility to do so.

STOP! Think!

Let us reflect on our strengths and our weaknesses as we think kindly of the Spitzer family, it can happen to anyone and most especially, we, the ones who would never ever be caught in that kind of situation. Really?

Pause:

Time for confession - which new sin do I have to confess to before them, the absolvers of Rome?