The Malaysian Mistletoe
It was only the second day in the new year and Chigozie, a cousin of mine had already failed on one of his new year resolutions. Less than forty-eight hours prior, we were all huddled around the remnants of the bonfire that he had made to usher in the new year where he had repeatedly gushed over the prospects of what the new year would hold. He had a list of resolutions that bothered on prosperity and financial stability, more importantly, was his resolve to settle down with his longtime heartthrob in the coming months of that year. He outlined the possibility of a heart to heart meeting with his girlfriend in the morning, he wanted her to be his first agenda of the year. Chigozie had been very excited. A dream finally coming together, at least so it seemed.
Chigozie was an upcoming metal works craftsman who had recently secured his first contract to provide metal window burglary proofs for a local businessman. Chigozie had told us with total confidence "If I get four or five of the same kind of clients, I will be good for a while". He seemed excited by lots of prospects in this line of business and was already thinking of diversifying his intended wealth and multiplying it tenfold. At that bonfire, Chigozie had outlined his talking points with the girlfriend. He had shared ideas of acquiring a few motorbikes to entrust his wife to be. He talked about the "high purchase scheme" that would net him enough money to increase their fleet in a short while. He had hoped that it would at least offer the wife to be some sense of stability and also encourage her quest to settle down with him since the prospects looked good. " Before you know it, I would start building my house" he had said.
Timing, they say was everything. A new year day wedding had changed the whole dynamics. A Malaysian themed wedding had shaken the land of Orodo to its depth on that day. A wedding that still left sour taste on almost all the faint-hearted young men of the village. A wedding that reset the peaceful and understanding nature of boy-girl relationships in the village. A wedding that set new standards for the growing girls in the vicinity. Ulunma lived in Abuja and had been touted to operate a flourishing hair salon, she was doing well in all standards and had even built houses for the parents in the village, thanks to his age-long boyfriend that lived in Malaysia. The new year wedding had been postponed so many times, little wonder it lived up to its hype as the biggest "ebeano" wedding of the year. Ulunma's groom and his friends had arrived in a convoy that had about six or seven G wagons and about four lexuses, surprisingly an all black convoy with sirens blaring as they converged at the ceremony venue. They all had green flowing "Agbadas" with matching black shoes. A blue skull cap perched on each of their heads and any semblance of eyes were shielded by pitch black sunglasses. These were all made men, they seemed of timbre and caliber. In their arms rested bundles of mint two hundred naira notes with chaperone bodyguards that held thrice as much in open suitcases. It had started raining in currencies a short while afterward. First, it was mild showers, a drizzle of two hundred naira notes that slowly picked in intensity to a moderate downpour that had notes littering and covering the perimeter where bride and groom danced. Then a cumulus cloud had emerged, and it was raining cats and dogs in different notes, the skies looked like 1944 Normandy when leaflets were dropped from airplanes and they all lingered in mid-air for a little whilst frightened Frenches looked and waited patiently for a leaflet to hit home. It was Normandy all over. Leaflets and leaflets, continuously dropped by these men. Some of them had money guns that sent these notes flying at heights that were unbelievable. A mudslide was inevitable when it rained like this. A mudslide it turned out to be as guests were turned into jumping jacks, seemingly like kids in a bouncing castle as they tumbled and scourged for the falling notes that were now a plethora of green shiny kites. "Too much money, too much money" the master of ceremony kept screaming as he further "gassed" them into releasing more monies into the skies, tons and tons of leaflets that slowly glided to the ground. Our dear "Sir Ahmadu Bello" probably would have been livid with anger as his head was continuously trampled and shuffled on whilst the cows and agro produce on reverse side of most of the notes was riddled with dirt from under soles and earth.
My cousins’ meeting that held in the late evening of the first did not go down well. Adaure had dumped Chigozie right after listening to his rags to riches plan that would have spanned five years. She just did not buy into his ideas and dreams. It just seemed too much of a struggle to survive. Adaure had even told Chigozie to see to travel out of the country, preferably Malaysia and had even hit him with the " If God says we would be together, we would be together ", " If it is God's wish, then let his wish be done". She had urged him to go make money in other words and had followed suit with " If God says it is you, I will still be here".
The Malaysian scourge had stolen Chigozie's love right under the mistletoe. A scourge that left him a recluse for months and months.
Many years later, presently, the Malaysian menace was here to stay as a brazen show of wealth was evident everywhere they went, picking up along its way any remnants of morals left on the thin fabric of an impoverished nation. A gang of returnees from the oriental countries had totally besieged the nation and had slowly recreated the norm. They had overtime, re-engineered the minds of the teeming youths to value money rather than innovations. They had normalized the abuse of the "naira", making it attractive to spray the notes and trample on them rather than invest them in needed infrastructure. They had normalized the debasement of womanhood where girls are now the official accessories to fit the hotel rooms. They have implanted the notion on young minds that fraud and sharp practices were acceptable and had gone ahead to validate a shortcut to wealth. They had rendered " going to school " useless. There were more followers in our societies than leaders. They had unconsciously led our youths to love publicity rather be in love with humanity. Money had become the only acceptable currency.
In the Owerri municipal area, a growing hospitality hub has had a good run for investments that supported these lifestyles. While the hotel rooms were all fully booked and all the joints were bursting at seams with cash ready, drinking bubbly populace, an inept fabric was being misused and laid torn at all ends. A people that questioned less had emerged. A less inquisitive mind had evolved that cared less on consequences of actions. A less vibrant mind that lived on " the end justifies the means" mantra were now awoken. A people that ignored the fabrics of existence and "Lived by the hour" now lived among us. A people that had relegated the hard-working majority to the back burners and had rubbished the idea of " meritorious work in service". A youth that lived for the oppression of others were now here to stay. A youth that would rather drive the expensive cars than inquire about the state of roads that they rode on, one that would live perpetually in hotels, promoting lavish lifestyles that increase likes on "balling status " rather than impact meaningfully on housing difficulties of neighbors. A plethora of oriental brothers with a chest of abundant wealth were now awash in the land. None had the ability to create an iota of wealth. An almost failed generation.
However, for every failed idea, came consequences. We see and hear the fallout each time and have failed to see the dangerous fangs that these lifestyles were having on the moral skeleton of our youths. I still remembered vividly when they discovered the headless body of a purported " slay queen" in one of the back roads in the new Owerri area. The lifeless body had been dumped whilst vital organs had been harvested. The first thing that came to mind back in the day was the ritual killing" ogwu ego" syndicates that lured unsuspecting young girls to hotel rooms only to slaughter them for rituals or voodoo gains. Things have changed now and had taken several dimensions whereas what we possibly thought were ritual killings might have been organ harvesting. There seemed to be a flourishing trade in organs that we had overlooked. The unsuspecting females were now lured under so many auspices. They were now being promised all sorts of good tidings, with trips to Dubai and India accompanied with an all-expense paid spree, some were even promised jobs abroad and some that felt luckier than their mates got proposed to. The economic downturn in the country, being a catalyst for easy convictions and deceit had led our girls astray. Our girls had thrown caution to the wind, going as the wind blew without a mast. Our girls had swallowed the bait- line, hook, and sinker to the cock and bull story of these returnees. They had not allowed time to ask the right questions as to the source of a lavish lifestyle. Our girls had thrown away an age-long tradition of finding out what your partner did for a living. They had flushed that suspicious part of a woman down the drain for mere "fried rice and chicken and Hollandia yogurt" They had turned a blind eye for the front seat of "Toyota Venza". They now dined with the devil albeit to say with very short forks. They have now said "yes" under the Malaysian mistletoe.
The same fate had befallen the boys. Laptops and cyber cafes had replaced tools and workplace. Wire fraud and dating sites had become the new fertile lands where these young men thrived. The unforgiving unemployment rate in the country had eroded the remaining trust from these young minds who had now placed their fate on proceeds from the street. Money was the currency language of the street. If you did not have it, then you were not understood. Education seemed to be a long way to achieving stability. It had become less attractive to aspire to become a doctor, engineer or lawyer like it was back in the day. " Who education help" seems to be an acceptable reason to pursue fast cash. No one realized that "hard work pays" anymore. It was now uncool to work hard. Hard workers would not spray away their monies anyways. There seemed to be a moral decadence that had now gone unchecked even by the parents. Parents now shared and enjoyed from largess and proceeds of these sharp practices. Parents do not act like parents of the old anymore " where did you get this money from ?". Parents now rushed to the churches for quick thanksgiving to the Lord for blessing them. Parents had buckled under pressure to keep heads above water by every means possible. The wrath from the oriental brothers had gone way deep into our societies that one could pinpoint effects in minute facets of our lives.
"We need leaders not in love with money but in love with justice. Not in love with publicity but in love with humanity".....Martin Luther King Jr
Adaure had gone on to marry a "big boy" that resided in Thailand. They had been married for three years now. The marriage had not been blessed with any children yet for the singular reason being that the "big boy" had gone back right after the wedding and had not returned. There had not been enough time or anytime at all to consummate the union. He was being held by the Thai narcotic officials for a suspected drug ring. "Oputaobie" as he was fondly called now risked life in jail far from the bosom of Adaure. "It was the Lord's doing, it could have been me" Chigozie goes about saying to any ear that cared to hear. " I probably would have done anything to make it"...he adds each time.
At It Matters Period, we champion and fight social ills that militate against the attainment of just societies by pushing out warning pointers to the youths of today. In this write-up, we attempt to steer our youths back to proven tracks. We kindly urge them to heed to our reasoning.
Asking right questions : One can never go wrong by asking the right questions. We as crusaders urge our youths to heighten their sense of curiosities, we urge them to be seeking. We will applaud anyone that sparked "that which killed the cat". It would go a long way in improving on their knowledge bank and reinforce the fact that "curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning".We will keep encouraging our girls and boys to look deep and far before they leaped. They should ask around before committing to ventures as there are consequences for every action.
Back to the basics : The age-long instincts still works. "If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, it probably is a duck". All that glitter is not gold. Our youths must be able to sieve the truth from trash. Monies and lifestyles that are not verifiable are probably not worthy enough. Girls should heed to common sense to know that monies toiled for do not come this easy. Our youths should go back and trust hard work and also believe that it pays. Unemployment is an impediment to our postulations, but no society is just but a mere step in the right direction might spur a change in the needed psyche of our youths.
Trust in education : Education might be formal or informal. The defining position being able to decipher right from wrong, chaff from reality, possible from impossibles. Education still remains the bedrock of society and should be encouraged. This will continuously strengthen the matrix of the wobbly mindset.
Move with the trend : We should all endeavor to bring to light whatever that is trending so as to alert our youths on ever-changing tactics of these youth influences. If you cannot prove the source of wealth or source of wealth is masked under auspices.....please ask questions or simply observe.
Pressure on Government policies : We are all crusaders in one form and an enabling environment put in place by the government of the day would go a long way in achieving our set goal of having youths that stay "woke". Policies that meaningfully engage our youths and embed them with long-lasting imprint of " No pain, no gain" should be applauded.
"While she could hardly fathom what had just happened to her that night, she reached some conclusions before she fell asleep, certain things now made perfect sense; Moon River didn’t sound so syrupy, mistletoe wasn’t such a bad idea, and perhaps dating was not such a frivolous waste of time after all.”
"What happens under the mistletoe, stays under the mistletoe".....Let us help our youths make the right decisions.
It matters period.
Uchenna Iwualla M.D