The harmattan blew strongly on me as I bent, with my pants pulled down, ‘poo-pooing’ unrestricted in an open-large natural African forest, shielded by a tall Iroko tree, and shadowed by savannah palm fronds.
The landscape was a beautiful scenario, a perfect glory of the Universe. The harmattan persists, clinging tenaciously to the lonely forest. The mother hen croaked noisily under the tall African shrubs, shadowing the fragile chicks under her multi-coloured protective feathers.
The cattle of the fields were nowhere to be found. Village kids were shivering at the feet of their mothers while older men were warming up around the giant fire. The sun too, feeling the cold, barely managed to peep its radiant face from the foggy sky. The incessant chirps of the birds conjoined with the quietly flowing river to produce a perfect harmony of the universe.
12 hours previously.
I drove with fury out of Lagos. I was in an exigent hurry to leave the city and its madness; hungrily gasping for a breath of fresh air outside the ‘Wild Weird West’. My previous 48 hours had been packed with events; I picked up friends twice at Ojuelegba, bought a few stuff at Yaba and Ikeja, had a meeting in Anthony, serviced the car at Festac, live in Okota, and juggled everything with my 9 – 5 job in Ajao Estate area. The traffic was mad and navigating these courses demands mental stress and street credibility.
I was freaking spent! So I put the entire family in the car and we escaped the city before it woke up.
Smooth ride. Few glitches.
Six police checkpoints trying to hustle me but I ‘scoped’ my way out.
I don’t pay police! (em…em…maybe sometimes).
Twelve hours later, I was experiencing a deserted African forest, walking deeper into the chilling embrace of the cold gush of white wind; questioning my prying curiosity as I unceasingly glance into the whitish sky, gaping at the greying foggy air enveloping the forest.
‘That’s the wind of change’. I heard a thunderous whisper
‘Hhen, wind of what?! In an isolated African village,’ I whispered back in silence
‘Wind of change!’ He thundered again.
‘Illusion or fantasy? I kept questioning
‘Its real man, you’re in it!’ The voice came back again.
‘Ha! At last!’
I jumped in ecstasy embracing the changing wind, opened my mouth wide in laughter, savouring the thrills as the wind blows at its strongest point.
The wind of change…blowing through the hills and valleys, breaking through the mountains clutter; bending the trees and shrubs, causing glorious uproar in the seas, rivers, and oceans…
The wind of joy, the wind of peace.
The wind of great things, the wind of mighty things…
The wind stretched the birds in a full acrobatic display; made the fishes of the river wriggle joyfully about their aquatic habitat; collided with horses and they happily galloped about the jungle in gratitude to their Creator; the apes were not left out as they jump from one tree branch to another, experiencing the blessings of the new wind blowing from the east to Western Avenue…
The wind of joy, the wind of peace. The wind of great things, the wind of mighty things… restoring hope to the hopeless, healing the broken hearts, giving rest to the weary, bringing love to the jilted, and life to the dead…
The wind is blowing in Lagos, blowing in Chibok, blowing in Sambisa Forest, blowing in Kaduna, blowing in Kogi, blowing in Port Harcourt, blowing in Aleppo, blowing in Iraq, blowing in Ukraine, in Berlin, in Colorado… blowing all over Nigeria…
O, Lord…I can feel it, the wind of change, it is blowing…
#EKO!
