The Otta Philanderer
He was once a Pandora Box all his yesmen feared for fear of presage; they saw him as something that must exist or happen before something else can happen or be done because of his social position; not because of his importance in the position he was occupying.
Such a gigantic fellow who saddled all round with spittle hanging his tongue-swollen jaw with eye servicing gigantic men & women is now a gigantic idiot who can contain in a phial.
While we burnt, the land smoldered, he was very busy philandering in a town called Aso a big rock erupted with twelve swollen ladies bellies to his credit as a bequeath to the land he impoverished as confessed in later days by one of his wives or one of his mistresses; even his first photocopy made comment of incest.
Was there any Nobel Prize for sojourn? He was busy sojourning the entire glebe, giving us order from the up, while we burnt; he was living in our made heaven while we were living in his made hell, but is he not the first to win an award on immorality? What a sudden twist?
He was once having a strong unreasonable fear and hatred for us, for just no cause, no reason and no gain, because he was thinking that he will be like the magic bird called phoenix that lives for several hundred years before burning itself and then being born again from its ashes, but he was disappointed.
We were once begging for his philanthropy, {We the great he made the sudden downtrodden}, but he was especially helping those not in need, giving monetary alms to those who have laughing loins and we remained phlegmatic.
He was once renting photographers who were snapping our piquared physiques occasioned by his "famous" reforms, but he is today in the occasion where photographers don't take his picture as one who was once a famous person but as one from Sodom or Gomorrah, yet he does not want to hide his face in shame.
Exciting and interesting, he will very soon be smaller than the amoeba in the public foyer, but his inglorious deeds will manifest larger like the face of the earth, because he was not showing pity; the pitiless scorching tyrant. Man should not seem predestined to be wicked! Onwumere is a vibrant prolific author and poet, writes from Oyigbo, Rivers, Nigeria .
By: Odimegwu Onwumere