To My Dear Friend Jona

Gbenga Ogundare

 

Jonathan! Jonathan! Jonathan! How many times did I call you? How many ears do you have?

 

Jona, never mind that I didn’t exchange with you our usual pleasantries. No disrespect meant. You’re my pal, I respect you. You’re my presido, I salute you. But, you’re never too old or too powerful to be advised – even though you didn’t compensate me with any special adviser to the president portfolio. I still dey root for you sha.

 

See, to call a spade a spade: what Nigerians actually need, plus-including myself is GOOD WORK not GOOD LUCK.

 

I’m beginning to suspect the inertia that takes over the spirit of any just elected president. They buy a lot of time in the first years. And some more time in the second year. And they try to rush many projects in the third and fourth year. May that never happen to you. But, I suspect you; how come you’ve not named your ministers? How come we’ve not started enjoying constant power supply in the country? How come? You’re not a stranger to Aso Villa. So, I don’t think there should be any interregnum in your so-called transparent government. Where’s the continuity now?

 

The masses who voted for you have been crying to high heavens for relief from the criminal cabals in charge of kerosene distribution and sales and you’ve not spoken a word to them…perhaps, you find the scarcity and high cost of kerosene too mundane an issue to address. Remember, when a tree becomes too proud, it’s shown from which wood it’s carved. Remember, you once had no shoes –though now you fly in private chartered jet.

 

Jona! Jona! Jona! How many times did I call you again? In raining times it’s good to hide under an umbrella –not umblerra; and not the kind papa deceiving pikin dey use cover our country. Nigerians have taken solace in you not because you did not have shoes; not because you’re not good-looking and definitely not because you’re from a little-known hamlet –but, because they felt that amongst those who paraded themselves as president-to-be, you appeared least dishonest.

 

Don’t mind those saying to you Sai Jonathan. They’re just bloodthirsty sycophants. They’ll never see anything bad in all that you do. They’re singing your praises only to bring you and your government down. May they never succeed. Amen. But amen isn’t enough oh! You must work very, very hard. And when I say work hard, I mean knowledge-based hard work. You must use your sense plus the sense of reliable technocrats and vision-driven politicians. There’s a grand plot, I repeat, there’s a grand plot by some disgruntled and envious elements, to praise you to death. Eh, don’t say I didn’t tell you oh. You know me now: I’m not an alarmist.

 

And don’t take me for one of those folks who know the price of everything and the value of none. I know your worth and I know where you’re coming from; where you’re going I’m yet to have a clear clue. Jona, my beloved pal…Jona my presido, right now, right there where you are –you stand on the threshold of making history as the first Nigerian president that will deliver on all his promises. Or, did you take us for a ride during your election campaigns? It couldn’t have been. I still see you as the boy I walked with bare-footed each day on my way to school. But today, we –you anyway- have grown up to be somebody. If you rule this country well, I assure you I can and will be somebody too.

 

Don’t misunderstand me oh. I do not by this letter ask you to give me or any of my kith and kin some juicy contracts. I want have written you about is to: deliver on all your promises and to steer clear of deadly sycophants –including anyone that comes like a bang (did anyone mention D’Banj?).

 

From now on, let your name be Good Work and not Good luck.