Sentiment is an inclined sense of reasoning. Its born of individual perception, blinded by emotions and nestled by ambition and interest. Mass hysteria has its own elemental currents that share boundaries with sentiments; the mob being a cousin: no credible leadership, or sense of organization.
The common denominator is the restiveness and its ornaments, driven by vaulting ambition. As Peter, the son of Obi, criss-crosses political parties in search of his Adams apple, trying as it were, to be a standard bearer, he seems to have plunged himself into a political cesspit, where daydreaming is the currency. Once his members, captured in his Obidients movement, raise their voices, the choruses assume the teaser of Obi’s warped thought, that conjure billows of himself as the anointed one, who must be.
If only he knew that he’s only being egged on. His legerity at membership of one party in one minute and another in the next, discloses his character as an unserious minded politician down the slope of a migrant political hijacker; a nomad if you like, in search of other people’s till. Obi’s leadership foot print is deficient. It is manifestly unwelcoming, and incapable of assembling men of content and character to run a political platform and or ideology, that ought to be the compelling reason. Instead, he lurks around intemperate cliff, without rhyme, waiting to take the next leap in search of greener pasture, that he has refused to plant.
In my previous expositions, I queried Obi’s character, credentials, intellect and ability to understand the simple algorithms of power and its crazy aphrodisiac. I reached the unassailable conclusion, that Peter, the son of Obi, is the archetypal embryo of the Chichidodo bird. Like Chichidodo, it doesn’t perch too long on faeces while in search of maggots.
Remarkably known for his pretentious character: well preened, near immaculate, but feasts on maggots. A well-favoured product of faeces, and human excreta will serve well in the study of contradiction. And in a fictive world of power play, participants come in different molds. *When contradiction is a man’s prime nature, his character suffers infirmity, and his content is recondite. He remains a migrant looking for the next bus stop to pick passengers; aka one chance. A Chichidodo bird, adeptly described in Ayi-kwei Armah’s fictive work, The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born, captures Peter Obi’s present political trajectory; steeped in contradiction and nomadism.THE CHARACTER OF PETER, THE SON OF OBI.
By Kassim Afegbua.
Sentiment is an inclined sense of reasoning. Its born of individual perception, blinded by emotions and nestled by ambition and interest. Mass hysteria has its own elemental currents that share boundaries with sentiments; the mob being a cousin: no credible leadership, or sense of organization. The common denominator is the restiveness and its ornaments, driven by vaulting ambition. As Peter, the son of Obi, criss-crosses political parties in search of his Adams apple, trying as it were, to be a standard bearer, he seems to have plunged himself into a political cesspit, where daydreaming is the currency. Once his members, captured in his Obidients movement, raise their voices, the choruses assume the teaser of Obi’s warped thought, that conjure billows of himself as the anointed one, who must be. If only he knew that he’s only being egged on. His legerity at membership of one party in one minute and another in the next, discloses his character as an unserious minded politician down the slope of a migrant political hijacker; a nomad if you like, in search of other people’s till. Obi’s leadership foot print is deficient. It is manifestly unwelcoming, and incapable of assembling men of content and character to run a political platform and or ideology, that ought to be the compelling reason. Instead, he lurks around intemperate cliff, without rhyme, waiting to take the next leap in search of greener pasture, that he has refused to plant.
In my previous expositions, I queried Obi’s character, credentials, intellect and ability to understand the simple algorithms of power and its crazy aphrodisiac. I reached the unassailable conclusion, that Peter, the son of Obi, is the archetypal embryo of the Chichidodo bird. Like Chichidodo, it doesn’t perch too long on faeces while in search of maggots. Remarkably known for his pretentious character: well preened, near immaculate, but feasts on maggots. A well-favoured product of faeces, and human excreta will serve well in the study of contradiction. And in a fictive world of power play, participants come in different molds. *When contradiction is a man’s prime nature, his character suffers infirmity, and his content is recondite. He remains a migrant looking for the next bus stop to pick passengers; aka one chance. A Chichidodo bird, adeptly described in Ayi-kwei Armah’s fictive work, The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born, captures Peter Obi’s present political trajectory; steeped in contradiction and nomadism. Obi has deceived his followers for too long. He has been wearing “one pair of shoes” for too long, even when there is evidence that this is a misstatement. He has been wearing one wristwatch for more than long enough now, even when we have seen his wrist adorned with various watches. His search for power has taken him to the climax of human depravity and knavery, hoodwinking his Obidients into a frenzy akin to the joy at the advent of a savior. His behavioral disclosures will instead, be their savior, soon enough. His duplicity is a phenomenal political disease that needs urgent surgical attention.
Peter Obi, must change his tactics; they are now weather beaten, and tenuous. His strategies are fluxional, his methods now jejune, lacking depth and content. He neither has form nor substance. From the APGA, where he publicly swore never to depart; in deference to Odumegu Ojukwu, of blessed memory, to the PDP, where he was running mate to Alhaji Atiku Abubakar, then to the Labour Party, where he ran as Presidential Candidate, and later to the ADC, where he was atrophied by political heavy weights, and now he’s found a space in the NDC that is already looking like another stillborn. Obi’s migrant behavior seems schizophrenic. Before day break, he may seek ingress into the PRP, since his former running mate Datti Baba-Ahmed, has already foretold his partner’s likely entry; and when he’s gone full circle he may return singing Falling In Love Again. Obi has become a mobile dancer, but he is certainly not dancing in water. He is seeking desperately, to climb the power rostrum by all and any means. Now friends (of sorts) with those he previously insulted, he is seen cavorting around them to make robust, his political chances. He ran away from APGA to PDP, from there to Labour Party, destroyed the LP, abandoned the wreckage, sauntered into the ADC, unable to sustain any serious discourse within the ADC’s concentric circles, he jumped ship, yet again looking for savory aliments in the NDC. Such migratory characteristics does not speak well of the character of a man trying to be President of Nigeria.
Looking closely at Peter Obi’s political consultations, it is clear to see that they are peopled by 99% leaders from his ethnic configuration. His “Igbotic” mentality is the reason for his parochialism and myopic worldview. He views Nigeria from his myopic binoculars and is unable to take off the toga of ethnic jingoism that has narrowed his chances. An opportunistic political player, wearing different cloaks to suit different occasions, Peter Obi is the archetypal representation of everything wrong with Nigeria; crass individualism, opportunism, clannish sentimentality, prebendal politics of old, pretentiousness and over sanctimonious-ness. His days at the helm in Anambra have said it all. Today, he hops into a molue, tomorrow he hires a private jet ride. Tomorrow, he rides Okada, the next day, he hops into keke-marwa. His itinerant supporters do not see anything wrong in his gaseous state. What I see is a man poised to take Nigeria up in the air, taking her from frying pan into the fire.
From my balcony, I can inhale the poisoned chalice of Obi’s political drudgery; so nauseatingly discomforting. I can feel his palpable disguise of dual personality, a pretender to the core, who is now desperate to ride on kwakwasiya movement to sail his ship to harbour. But like his past nomadic adventures, even this will end up in a debacle. When his flock gets tired, famished and spent, they will gradually become sensible. The Obidients shouted to the roof top in 2023, but they couldn’t provide half of the needed 176,000 polling agents to man the polling units in their interest. They ended up shouting blue murder. President Tinubu as a deft politician, knows just when to pull the rug from under their feet; and Nigerians know their consistent and beneficial leader, who stoops to conquer when the odds are against him. Obi deserves to be pitied. He under-rates President Tinubu at his own peril. Obi has deceived his followers for too long. He has been wearing “one pair of shoes” for too long, even when there is evidence that this is a misstatement. He has been wearing one wristwatch for more than long enough now, even when we have seen his wrist adorned with various watches. His search for power has taken him to the climax of human depravity and knavery, hoodwinking his Obidients into a frenzy akin to the joy at the advent of a savior. His behavioral disclosures will instead, be their savior, soon enough. His duplicity is a phenomenal political disease that needs urgent surgical attention.
Peter Obi, must change his tactics; they are now weather beaten, and tenuous. His strategies are fluxional, his methods now jejune, lacking depth and content. He neither has form nor substance. From the APGA, where he publicly swore never to depart; in deference to Odumegu Ojukwu, of blessed memory, to the PDP, where he was running mate to Alhaji Atiku Abubakar, then to the Labour Party, where he ran as Presidential Candidate, and later to the ADC, where he was atrophied by political heavy weights, and now he’s found a space in the NDC that is already looking like another stillborn. Obi’s migrant behavior seems schizophrenic.
Before day break, he may seek ingress into the PRP, since his former running mate Datti Baba-Ahmed, has already foretold his partner’s likely entry; and when he’s gone full circle he may return singing Falling In Love Again. Obi has become a mobile dancer, but he is certainly not dancing in water. He is seeking desperately, to climb the power rostrum by all and any means. Now friends (of sorts) with those he previously insulted, he is seen cavorting around them to make robust, his political chances.
He ran away from APGA to PDP, from there to Labour Party, destroyed the LP, abandoned the wreckage, sauntered into the ADC, unable to sustain any serious discourse within the ADC’s concentric circles, he jumped ship, yet again looking for savory aliments in the NDC. Such migratory characteristics does not speak well of the character of a man trying to be President of Nigeria.
Looking closely at Peter Obi’s political consultations, it is clear to see that they are peopled by 99% leaders from his ethnic configuration. His “Igbotic” mentality is the reason for his parochialism and myopic worldview. He views Nigeria from his myopic binoculars and is unable to take off the toga of ethnic jingoism that has narrowed his chances.
An opportunistic political player, wearing different cloaks to suit different occasions, Peter Obi is the archetypal representation of everything wrong with Nigeria; crass individualism, opportunism, clannish sentimentality, prebendal politics of old, pretentiousness and over sanctimonious-ness. His days at the helm in Anambra have said it all. Today, he hops into a molue, tomorrow he hires a private jet ride. Tomorrow, he rides Okada, the next day, he hops into keke-marwa. His itinerant supporters do not see anything wrong in his gaseous state. What I see is a man poised to take Nigeria up in the air, taking her from frying pan into the fire.
From my balcony, I can inhale the poisoned chalice of Obi’s political drudgery; so nauseatingly discomforting. I can feel his palpable disguise of dual personality, a pretender to the core, who is now desperate to ride on kwakwasiya movement to sail his ship to harbour. But like his past nomadic adventures, even this will end up in a debacle. When his flock gets tired, famished and spent, they will gradually become sensible.
The Obidients shouted to the roof top in 2023, but they couldn’t provide half of the needed 176,000 polling agents to man the polling units in their interest. They ended up shouting blue murder. President Tinubu as a deft politician, knows just when to pull the rug from under their feet; and Nigerians know their consistent and beneficial leader, who stoops to conquer when the odds are against him. Obi deserves to be pitied. He under-rates President Tinubu at his own peril.
