On
my way to work this morning, I spotted a loony figure. Pants sagged,
dirty black underwear showing, a caftan perched precariously on his
extra lean shoulders, shock of long unkempt dreadlocks cascading down
his head and teeth yellowed by years of hard living and a face still
surprisingly handsome despite the ravages of illicit living.
This
was Majek, my hero, the one who brought down the rain. He it was who
redefined Reggae and in that one album forced us to look deep into our
consciousness, calling us prisoners of conscience. He it was who took
that Bob Marley piece,
Redemption Song into the sublime. He infused it
with his pangolo rhythm and turned it into an anthem of social and
spiritual awakening. Majek was a god, strong Adonis like looks, talent
yet to me replicated in our clime and charisma of the gods.
This
same Majek, I just saw like that in Fadeyi, begging for ogogoro becuase
he did not have 100 Naira to pay for it. I stopped brought out 1,000
Naira and was immediately struck by confusion. Should I give him this
money and contribute to his death or should I refuse him and watch him
throw a tantrum like a disposed toddler. He saved me the dilemma as he
grabbed the money from me and rushed to the ugly, black dirty merchant
of death, who gleefully poured him a glass full.
Majek
downed the drink and hugged me like I had just saved him from the hang
mans noose. I looked deep into his eyes and saw a lost soul. He was
actually begging for help, the demon inside of him peered at me from his
once very beautiful eyes, daring me to do my worse. Assuring me that he
had no intention of leaving this host until it finished it’s dreadful
task of killing him ever so slowly.
He
called me a fine boy and wished he was as good looking as I was, I
laughed. A laugh that was more of pity, a laugh that was laced with
internal cry of pain. A pain that cascaded through every pain in my
body. If only I had one tenth of this talent, I would be far from fadeyi
begging for N100 worth of ogogoro.
Did we fail him as Nigerians,
did we put an umbrella over the Rainmaker, did the flood of his talent
wash away his life, what can be done, do we continue watch him make a
mockery of a Life once blessed?
Majek in his destitution
represents Nigeria. Blessed with more than enough resources., rich in
human capacity, more fertile land than the whole of Asia and filled with
gifted and talented people, but yet beggerly and poor. Daily our
leaders go to ‘jibowu’ to beg poorer countries for aid, for debt
forgiveness. The contradiction never leaves me. Japan with no known
Natural resources is so developed that we can only look in shame.
Majek
with all the talents of a thousand people, begging the woman who can’t
lift a finger beside him for N100, Majek being laughed at by miscreants
and being mocked with so much joy by those who were not half as blessed
by God.
What can I do, but to write this piece and just walk away,
lest his guest demon attempt a move on my life. I saw it and felt it
look into my soul and with one withered hand, offered me a shot of the
Devils brew. A shot I knew would throw me into the darkest pits of
Majeks torture, a shot that will take me spiraling down the tunnels of
oblivion, destroying the innocent dependent lives of my children while
giving Majek solace that he has finally found a room mate albeit a very
reluctant and scared one.
I pray for you sir. I pray God gives you peace.
God bless you Majek.
