The crushing pain of Democracy Day

EVERY June 12 is Nigeria’s democracy day. A day that reminds us that power belongs to the people. It’s specifically the day when people’s opinion about their ruler and how they want to be ruled is aired. This day is also meant to be an opportunity for those in governance to pay attention to public opinions; at least, this is how it’s supposed to be.

Last Thursday morning, residents in Yaba, Lagos, woke to the news that the president, Mohammadu Buhari, would be en route the Yaba road to an appointment with Arise Tv in Victoria Island. That morning, the whole Yaba road was blocked, police vehicles lined in row and armed police men took their positions on the road, it seemed as though they were waiting for an opportunity to shoot.  Workers, students and even residence walked in fear; no one trust the Nigerian armed force anymore, especially after the incident at Lekki late last year. Personally, I felt the police were warming up for June 12, and I wasn’t wrong.

Honestly, it’s not a lie that Nigerian government cares little about its people, their suffering, hunger and the economic hardship that have become unbearable.

Saturday, June 12 was supposed to be an opportunity to hear from the masses, but those who dared to come out to protest for their rights were accosted by the police, tear gassed, and some were shot. Were we supposed to keep quiet and continue to bear the pain of this hardship? Come on, the cost of living is high; three square meal is no longer sure in most families, youths and university students are not finding this current situation palatable, everything is expensive. 

The leaders are not saying anything and the public is being silenced. In Abuja, protesters were paid some amount to protest in favour of the current government!, Isn’t that hypocrisy? Using people’s weakness as an advantage.

If this is the change we were promised, then it’s of no use. Is it not better for things to go back to the way they were before?

Who can deconstruct this art of madness,

Sons of soil sodden with oil 

But queing for fuel at dry filling stations. 

I plod through the epicentre of this disfigured landscape,

I see pain photostated on the faces of starving citizens

I smell grief

Out of the sweat-soaked under arms of poor labourers.

– Nduka Otiono, (from Voices in the Rainbow, 1997).

*Chinelo is English Language student at the University of Lagos.