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Pragmatic, reserved and a deep thinker who loves family, sports especially football where am married to two wives: the first, AC Milan who has my loyalty and the second wife, Manchester United who has all my undying love and pampering, lifestyle and society parties. Need I say the law is more than a profession but a lifestyle for me.

Adekanye Adeyinka Olajide.

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You are here: Home / NIGERIA THE AGGRANDISED GIANT (concluding part).


When you walk the streets of the village, it is not difficult to discern that there is a gulf in class between the villagers and their leaders. There is a parallel line revealing affluence from dearth. The lines leading to where the king and his cohorts lives painted in gold, lined with diamonds and glowing lights constantly powered alternative power sources and the noise is from a cacophony of generating sets; otherwise, the streets are as quiet as graveyards. Some build on orchard, planting an array of flowers to beautify the lands. On the other hand, the lines behind, where the impoverished villagers live identified by suffocating stench and thick darkness. During the day, their surroundings covered in dirt and a brown sight filled with singing houseflies and fleas emanating from faeces that fill the streets.

Once a villager crosses the line, and dares to walk the lawns in front of the chief’s house, death is the reward for trespassing and consequently, the guards throw him in the village river after the rich man bathes with his blood to serve as protection. The kings and chiefs dine and wine with the body of the pauper as meat and his bones provide calcium for their dogs.

There is uproar in the village caused by restless, hapless, jobless youths threatening to bring down the gold houses if the body of the missing man not produced. The king in his usual wit, calls for calm and ensues peace. He promises that investigations are on going by the dogs who wear uniform but only protects the one with the whistle though they camouflage as ‘the people’s friend.’ Any attempt to defy warnings of the king by villagers who have grown weary with the empty promises, the king’s masquerades that bring death is unleashed.

The king then escapes in the night with his cabal to cool of the tension created from the unrest. He travels to have closed door meetings with kings of other villages who live in the midst of their people in flats and not behind the Zuma rock. While the meeting is in session, the king represented by his dependable ally, takes our money to stash in their banks. Meanwhile, the king on his knees solicits for help to expunge the monsters they have created that suck blood of the poor at night and are getting closer to the gold lines making them piss in their pants.

Sometimes, they use straw to suck the blood of the citizens leaving us with kwashiorkor yet claiming to ameliorate the sufferings with pints of blood, they provide to prevent death from emaciation. However, more people die from the stampede because of the meagre food provided to the people under the sun.

Undeniably, the giant village have plantations for cocoa, groundnut, rice, wheat, and cotton. The dilemma however, is that they are only aired on the radio, read only in the papers but actually non-existence at the supposed fields. Regardless, they proceed to announce ban on importation claiming to have stocked one million metric tons of guinea corn, millet, rice but the silos are just empty. The plantations of the last decade are yet to yield for harvest. Billions of dollars air marked for forestation have gone into drains for the trees are yet to provide shelter and shades because they have failed to grow; perhaps, they were never planted!

The king’s first lady with the chiefs’ wives starts an association to establish pet projects for widows, orphans. Like everything in our village, the wives are not different from their husbands - they always have ulterior motives. In this case, their projects are just skirmishes to get them to travel the world obtaining grants from the village’s coffer for their projects. Their attempts to alleviate the poverty of the villagers are nothing but reasons to incapacitate them. They buy equipments that maim the people by handing them grinding machines, motorcycles to ride on to speed up their death. Sadly, graduates given loan in exchange of credentials hard-earned credentials or better still, set them up as taxi drivers.


The king does not build health care with a beautiful house that is full and filled with modern equipments because they never visit the centres for treatment nor does their family because they ravel to the west to examine common headache. Their toys are aeroplanes and yachts. While the villagers thread the streets bare footed and make kites and cars from planks and bolts as toys.


Now, my people know that the fear of the king is the beginning of wisdom because they have seen the bold ones who have the guts to condemn the treacherous acts of our leaders disappear like air. Others who do not disappear, the king through his clothed dogs arrest and take them to the gallows in strange villages and given poisonous tea or letters laced with bombs as parcel. No wonder the people shout long live the king when they tell us we are the richest in the world else they release their death masquerade.

Who are we to argue with the king or to doubt his wise words? Him alone knows the depth of our resources, who knows how blessed we are to make us the envy of others. We know truly how rich our soils are and how enlightened and persevering the people are as well as the rich culture and tradition that puts our shoulders high above the rest. We are a village with simple people, who work very hard to succeed in life in a village filled with promises and lofty ideas to make us a better people. Our village is one with documentation of laws that never implemented. Truly, king, we are the giant even though exaggerated with potentials that never will see fulfilment.