In today’s Nigeria, despair is a constant companion. The only name on the lips of the suffering masses is Dangote — not out of admiration, but desperation. Nigerians now cling to a faint hope that one day, he’ll announce a miraculous reduction in fuel prices — even if it’s just ten miserable naira!
Hope has become a luxury. By 9 PM, viewing centers fill up like emergency shelters, as people tune in religiously to hear the news that might just ease their agony. Only the super-rich dare to power their generators after midnight. The rest of us? We sleep sweating, gasping, and praying for morning.
And while Nigerians roast in darkness, the so-called “Minister of Power” — an accountant turned tax tyrant — chokes the life out of the nation with draconian tariffs that make Shylock from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice look like a saint. His strategy is simple: squeeze, bleed, and crush.
Even President Tinubu isn’t safe from his own appointees! Rumors swirl that Aso Rock itself was threatened with disconnection after an astronomical bill. Power supply? Zero. Bill? Over N300,000 monthly. Welcome to Nigeria, where you pay for what you never receive.
Electricity companies like EKEDC now behave like bitter ex-lovers, storming neighborhoods with vengeful fury. It feels personal — as if someone in every street wronged them. Meanwhile, God, not government, sent rain to cool the furious heat threatening to cook the nation alive.
But the anger doesn’t stay indoors. It’s spilling onto streets, offices, and highways. Nigeria is a ticking time bomb — and every day, it explodes somewhere.
Story 1:
On Nyanya Road, Abuja, a minor brush between two cars spiraled into madness. A man, blinded by rage, smashed another man’s headlights with a wheel spanner. The wiser motorist stayed in his car, absorbed the loss, and lived to see another day. A broken headlamp? Expensive, yes — but life is priceless.
Story 2:
In another tragedy, a National Assembly worker swerved to avoid a reckless Okada rider, only to crash into a parked car. Heated words turned fatal when the Okada man stabbed him to death and vanished into the night. Another family left broken, mourning a death that could have been avoided.
Story 3:
Elsewhere, a woman whose car was slightly brushed refused to accept apologies. She called her military husband to the scene. Before he could arrive, a truck barreled through, crushing her and innocent bystanders. Her husband found only a corpse where once stood a wife full of rage.
This is Nigeria today: one wrong look, one harsh word — and lives are lost.
Mental health has collapsed. Anger has become airborne. The legal system limps behind, incapable of catching up with the blood running on our streets.
Survival tip:
When trouble brews, WALK AWAY.
Don’t argue. Don’t fight. Don’t prove a point.
Your family needs you alive, not right.
You can’t fight a madman and remain sane. You can’t chase a demon and hope to return whole.
Nigeria is in survival mode. Play smart. Live to tell the story.
Stay safe. Stay alive. Ire ooo.
Mogaji Wole Arisekola writes from Ibadan.
