Dialysis And Sex in the South.
A new billionaire playground had just opened in the southern part of Nigeria. The billionaires had risen from a sort of a Berlin conference where they had deliberated on several issues that plagued the southerners. They had brainstormed on marginalization, subjugation, rejection and apathy from the central government and had in finality resolved to be self sufficient in rendering to the commercial south, a service that seemed to be beneficial to all. They had agreed to be reformative and a bit innovative while asserting their presence in every hub they came into. They mapped out territories for themselves to conquer. They had chosen carefully, few aspects of our lives to capture, one that gave us an identity as a people who were hardworking and with a lot of dignity sitting on our shoulders, one that preyed on the native happy nature of us all. They had agreed to apply native wisdom in plying this trade, one that took no prisoners, one that sold any commodity, no matter the cost nor manner to humans. After all, money was the root of all evil.
The Billionaires from the south had just hit gold, preying on the regions new found commercial thirst and voracious appetite for bravado in the bedroom. They had resolved to delve into full production of some alcoholic bitters, a beverage that will serve a population that once had youths who yearned for strength and vitality, ones who relied on native instincts to survive and thrive, ones who had now ditched exercise, ingenuity and hard work and now have embraced additives that kept them awake to ply the super-highways of the internet while maintaining an erection that lasted more than acceptable as a measure of bed bravado — the new currency in the south.
The billionaires had opined that these alcohol laced herbs were a panacea to the growth of the region. They noted that the herbs gave absolute confidence, and boosted strengths from a mustard sized one to that of a coconut. It reassured lily livered loins that were tired from natural progressions, promising the vigor of a nineteen year old into an older body. They agreed that a confident and vigorous youth meant a robust economy for the region. The wiser ones in the pack had pointed to a close relationship with this alcoholic herb and want for sex, and had urged the group to push to it’s limits, finding ways to mask taste so that patrons will not waiver till they ejaculate. The other one in the group with a love for opportunities had stated a relationship with intake and hotel spaces. He noticed an increase in lodgments around areas that had heavy ingestions. They were happy of a ripple effect on the region, “after all, sex was the oldest trade in the world”. They had agreed that it was good for the playground “ What good is a bravado without sex”. They had all agreed to this scramble for our kidneys, our loins, our sanity, one that required a robust social responsibility from each and every of them.
We will need a lot more dialysis centers as soon when the long term effects of heavy congestion hits the region. I know this from what I had seen tramadol and crystal meth ”mkpuru-nmiri” do to the region. We need these centers as a corporate social responsibilities of these billionaire companies, ones that will ameliorate the pressures put on the failing kidneys of our teeming youths. We might need testing centers around the region, to screen for increasing sexually transmitted diseases ravaging the region, one that will help in early detection or better still educate on harm and ills of abusive practice. We might need rehabilitation centers to accept spillage and overflow from repented addicts of alcohol and sex, who will benefit from a renewed spirit of hustle in the east, one free from the trappings of evil. We will need one of these companies to see this as an opportunity to right a few wrongs, one that has been beyond the reach of a region with the greatest concentration of commercial billionaires who have chosen routes that cared less, who were as shrewd as what we “Igbos” were known for, who making money at all cost was all that mattered. We need them to turn our new found craze to our greatest strengths.
If not — — anyi wu ndi eriri eri.
Alcoholic bitters are so sweet but — -O-tom, egbu m.
