You know, it's so sad.

How can a nation be a nation, and yet things like this happen, and there's nothing the president is doing?

None of them are saying anything about it.

How can we sleep in a country like this?

Where the poor or should I say the less privileged are scared of practically everything, while the rich are somewhere surrounded by security.

Hell! Most of them aren't even in the damn country.

Is this a country or a graveyard?

We're not dead, but we're living like one.

It's like I hear the cries of weeping mothers every now and then.

The pain of having a child you can't see.

A child that you know isn't safe, but all you can do is pray.

Pray.

A prayer that doesn't seem like it's working, but you still do it because it's the only comfort you have left.

But deep down, I know a mother is asking:

"Prayer?

The same prayer I prayed so no evil would befall my family?"

Sometimes I think the government is an antagonist.

They're one of the reasons people fail to believe in God.

Because let's be honest, if the people in power refuse to be examples of God's work or have the fear of God, what's left?

Yet we live each day as it comes.

The majority are frolicking around, partying while there's fire on the mountain.

While the minority run and run for their lives.

Yet some get killed.

Molested.

Assaulted.

Can you imagine the fear?

The pain?

The trauma that these people feel right now?

We are the oppressed!

We are nothing to these people.

They don't care about us.

And they're not even hiding it.

Citizens are crying.

Bleeding.

Weeping.

Mourning.

Yet our president, our representative, our leader, the supposed father of the nation is doing interviews he can't even answer as a common man, not to talk of our LEADER.

I see the national flag and I cry.

A foreigner would probably think I'm honored.

Meanwhile, I see the bloodshed.

I see the misuse of power.

I see the betrayal and abandonment we have received and endured for the longest time.

Yet the president is campaigning for another term.

The painful part?

It is still us.

Human beings who will be bribed with something temporary and forget the future.

Then when our children are gone, we shout:

“He is a wicked man!”

“He is bad!”

But the truth is, man made man wicked.

Who stabs a man in the back?

A man.

Who are these kidnappers?

A man.

You see, we're the cause of 90% of the problems we face.

And until the day we all sit down, look at ourselves, and tell ourselves the truth…

Until then…

Before we understand the concept of change, which Nigeria has been lacking for over ten years now

Nothing changes.

At this point, if the Lord doesn't come down, even angrier than He's meant to be, I wouldn't blame Him.

Because some of us have made the handiwork of God look nothing like it was meant to be.

Every day it's one thing or the other.

No more good news.

If it's not kidnapping today, it's a mother sleeping with her son.

A brother using his own blood sister for money rituals.

Or a twelve-year-old boy cutting the neck of a newborn for a ritualist.

The pain of even being called a Nigerian.

Never really been the girl to want the Lord to come just yet.

But now?

I think I'm ready.

I can't cope with this anymore.

We can't cope.

We're exhausted.

We're not practicing a military system of government, yet there's no free will.

My freedom of movement is seized without me even being a criminal.

We should probably just forget the law because it's honestly a lawless country.

Criminals are walking freely.

They have more freedom than we, the law-abiding citizens.

So why won't people have the boldness to partake in immoral behavior?

When the level of injustice is higher than the level of social security.

We're doomed.

We're not sane.

We think we are, but we're not.

Now think about these victims' parents.

The ones who haven't died of a heart attack.

Imagine their state of mind.

Imagine the disorientation.

Imagine taking your child to school and returning later that day only to find out they were kidnapped.

Imagine seeing your child's back on the internet.

Bruised.

Beaten.

Assaulted.

And to top it all off, burned with melting plastic.

Now remove yourself from the parent's mind and enter that of the child.

If you were to go through that same torment, would you still be alive?

We should see those kids and salute them.

They are the Nigeria that we hail.

Not the country.

Not the representatives.

I thought there was separation of powers and checks and balances.

Where are the checks?

Where are the balances?

If the people who represent us are not criminals, why do they shake hands with them?

Why would they invite terrorists to meet and dine?

I laugh at “peace and unity.”

Because even The Purge seems purer than this.

If you see me, just know…

I'm not a proud Nigerian.

And if I cry when you talk about my country…

It's not from a place of joy.

My people are in bondage.

Mothers are scared their children won't return from school.

We're scared to sleep with both eyes closed.

We're scared to walk.

To talk.

To sleep.

To eat.

To pray.

Today, I know it doesn't have to be you before you feel the pain.

Leadership matters.

Justice matters.

Security matters.

But beneath all of that is a moral crisis.

A nation is only as healthy as the people who make it up.