You call a blog Viva Naija. You want to say great stuff about your country, but Nigerians won’t let you be great. We just hurtle from one foolishness to another with scant consideration for civility or common sense. Power-drunk, spiritually blind , completely hypocritical, and absolutely devoid of a moral compass, it’s like we look for ways to outdo ourselves in the insanity stakes. Nigerians completely discard any thought for the greater good and chase inanities, foolishness and f**kery. All day, everyday.
On today’s list of “Power Drunk and Command Crazy” is Sector Commander Andrew Kumapayi. He was on a general inspection; and on seeing hair and nails longer than he would have liked, he pushed scissors through braids, weaves and possibly even natural hair.
Please note that he is a commander in the FRSC. That is: the Road Safety Transport Corps. Road Safety. Now, I know many things have been responsible for road hazards and accidents in Nigeria – potholes, bad driving, passengers not wearing seat belts, or even petrol tankers randomly keeling over and spontaneously bursting into flames. Not once have I heard of a problem on the road caused by Yaki, Colour 33, 18 inches.
What is there to be gained from this outdated law other than to give this closet Hitler something to do with his time in order to make him feel important? Does it make for safer roads? Does the average Nigerian have a better understanding of road safety rules when they see a woman with cropped short hair? In what way does this rule affect the efficacy of the job at hand? We constantly chase the shadow and ignore the substance; choosing instead to churn out mediocrity that does not benefit the nation in any way. Iranu. Abasha.
And look at Kumapayi looking like he is doing the Lord’s work. Like placing your hands on another grown adult is something to be proud of. If you want to know how power turns Nigerians’ heads, try and see an oga in an office without settling the gate man. He is lord and master of that terrain and you must bow to him to make any progress. Or see how the madam in charge of jollof rice at the owambe gets when it comes to Item 7 on the agenda. Hunger go kill you unless you accord her with the proper respect she believes her spoon-wielding status deserves. Why are we the way we are?
Nothing about this suggests discipline. All I see is the desire to humiliate, to show who is top brass. To say “I’m the boss here.” I remember this being done to girls in secondary school too. You push scissors through their hair because they dared to have permed hair? Even though the hair was always neatly plaited? Why? Is there any scientifically-proven correlation between peroxide and perspicacity? Are any of the girls smarter or more brilliant because they came to school in low-cut? Are they world leaders and presidents today because you dragged them out in assembly and humiliated them? Or is the truth more to do with the fact that, like this FRSC Führer, people in authority were just eager to show their tyrannical chops?
I have read a lot of comments online about the women not dressing according to the rule book for the FRSC and so should accept whatever punishment is meted out to them. Spoken, no doubt, by more command-corrupt Nigerians. These women are grown people in gainful employment! If they fall foul of your rules, you issue a warning, a query or more severe punishment. Should the gross misconduct continue, you may wish to dock their wages or terminate their employment. You do NOT put your hands on another human. Ever. They are not slaves or chattel; they are not your property to do with as you please, they are PEOPLE.
Myopic-assed Nigerians talmbout “Even in the military, they have strict rules about facial hair blah blah blah.”
But Shekau is out here looking like a bearded he-goat kidnapping close to 300 girls while you’re all getting your Gillette on. But I understand. Priorities are priorities and where would we be without rules, right? Oh yeah, Nigeria, that’s where! Nonsense and strawberry. And by the way, the FRSC is like the military in the same way prison beans is like moi-moi elemi meje: you may have had a common ancestor once but your paths have long since separated.
“Iku ma pa e” in Yoruba means “(Unexpected) Death will kill you” – may our ancestors be right for once and let the name foresee the person’s life. Ugh.
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