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Aare Amerijoye Dotb
“The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the crown.” – William Pitt the Elder
It begins in the simmering dawn of a Monday morning in the heart of Akure, Ondo State. Mama Folake, a widow in her late sixties, drags a worn-out sack through the bustling market. She used to fry akara for schoolchildren, but with the price of beans now competing with the absurdity of Nigeria’s fuel price, she hawks sachet water instead, on credit. In Ogun State, Pa Rafiu sells off his late wife’s wedding ring to pay for his high blood pressure drugs. “Na Atiku go rescue us,” he mutters beneath his breath, his faith clinging to a flicker of hope.
The stories echo across Nigeria like silent screams buried beneath pride.
In Lagos, the commercial heartbeat of the nation, the poor suffocate, choked by inflation, devoured by joblessness, and hunted by tax agents desperate to milk dry the bones of the average hustler. Children sleep with empty stomachs under broken roofs, while government officials feast in air-conditioned opulence. Lagos, the land of dreams, has become the graveyard of aspirations.
In Kaduna, young boys once destined for greatness now join gangs of despair, selling bottled water in traffic under scorching sun and raining bullets at night. Imo bleeds with insecurity. Markets once vibrant now mirror ghost towns. “Hope Uzodimma and Tinubu are two sides of a broken mirror,” a trader whispers.
Katsina, once known for calm, now trembles under the weight of banditry. Goats are safer than girls, and farmers are buried with their hoes. In Benue, the “food basket of the nation” starves. Floods drown farms, while federal response floats on excuses. Edo’s youth flee the country through the Sahara Desert. “Anywhere but here,” they say.
In Cross River, pensioners die waiting for gratuities that will never come. Kwara’s civil servants, with salaries frozen like the conscience of the ruling class, live like beggars on borrowed time. In Kogi, the people speak in hushed tones, fear of retribution, fear of hunger, fear of hopelessness.
Borno, Yobe, and Niger groan beneath insecurity’s iron heel. Displaced persons sleep in tents and eat prayers instead of meals. “Atiku understands the North,” one IDP shouts, raising his cracked voice in the camp. “He is the only one who sees our tears.”
Kano, the ancient city, once rich in culture and commerce, now crumbles under poor economic management. Emirate politics and federal neglect have become twin plagues. The youth, robbed of opportunity, trade morality for survival.
Anthony G. Greenwald, the American social psychologist, once wrote that “people are not always aware of the causes of their behavior.” Nigerians are groaning, angry, and exhausted, but many still struggle to connect their poverty with the inept leadership seated in Aso Rock. It is not because they are ignorant; it is because they’ve been psychologically anesthetised by decades of deception and dashed hopes.
But the wind is shifting. There is a whisper in the land,a gentle, stirring hope. And Atiku, and the rescuers, are coming.
Marie-Louise von Franz, a Swiss Jungian psychologist, argued that the psyche of a nation, like the soul of an individual, is capable of healing only when it confronts its own shadow. Tinubu’s administration is the shadow,a grotesque reflection of everything broken. But Atiku represents that healing, an experienced democrat, a tested leader, a man who has wept with the poor and strategised with the wise.
“When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice: but when the wicked beareth rule, the people mourn.” – Proverbs 29:2
Indeed, Nigerians are mourning, not just the cost of rice and petrol, but the cost of silence, of surrender, of stolen futures. But as darkness deepens, dawn prepares to rise.
The Atiku-led coalition is not a gang of power-hungry politicians, it is a symphony of patriots. From governors to grassroots organizers, from youth groups to elder statesmen, they have one mission: to rescue Nigeria. Their vision is not just to win an election but to rebuild a country,block by block, state by state.
In Abia, fathers trek ten kilometers to buy a mud cake for their children’s birthdays. In Anambra, tailors now cut their dreams smaller to match shrinking incomes. In Akwa Ibom, oil flows beneath the soil, yet hunger stares through every window. In Bauchi, the children of almajiris now teach their fathers how to beg.
Bayelsa, where oil spills stain not just the rivers but the hearts of its people. In Delta, youth unemployment dances wildly with rising crime. In Ebonyi, students sell firewood to buy handouts.
Enugu’s coal is long dead, but so are job hopes for graduates. In Gombe, primary schools echo with the voices of teachers unpaid for months. Jigawa farmers walk for hours to fetch fertilizer that no longer arrives. In Kaduna, mothers beg for food at mosques.
Kebbi, once fertile, now dry with neglect. In Nasarawa, hope rides on donkeys. In Plateau, the land that once blossomed with peace now cries out with every gunshot.
In Rivers, militancy is resurrecting, born again through the desperation of forgotten men. In Sokoto, the caliphate weeps. In Zamfara, gold is plundered, but the people live like dust.
And in the Federal Capital Territory, Abuja, where power lives in opulence, the streets still carry beggars with outstretched hands,symbols of a nation’s soul torn between mockery and miracle.
Yes, the road ahead remains steep. Tinubu’s tenure is far from over, and Nigerians must still endure the last convulsions of his misrule. But the nation must not give in to despair. Hope, like a lion in the jungle, may crouch in silence, but it is always watching, always ready to roar.
And when it does, when Atiku and the rescuers arrive with clarity, compassion, and courage, then shall Nigeria rise again.
“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it?” – Isaiah 43:19
So let the people of Ondo, Ogun, Lagos, Kaduna, Imo, Katsina, Benue, Edo, Cross Rivers, Kwara, Kogi, Borno, Niger, Yobe, Kano, and the remaining states, Abia, Adamawa, Akwa Ibom, Anambra, Bauchi, Bayelsa, Delta, Ebonyi, Ekiti, Enugu, Gombe, Jigawa, Kebbi, Nasarawa, Osun, Oyo, Plateau, Rivers, Sokoto, Taraba, Zamfara, and even those in Abuja, hold on. The night may be long, but the dawn is certain. The rescuers are coming, and with Atiku in the saddle, Nigeria shall breathe again.
The Narrative continues……
Aare Amerijoye DOT.B
Director General
The Narrative Forces.
SB E-news
SB events magazine
Efficiency magazine
Efficiency award for Excellence EAE.
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