#PrayForNigeria Won’t Work Because Our Girls Were Never Found

Please try to keep up with me, because some ugly shit is about to go down on this page. I’m irate and it has a lot to do with the fact that I was blessed with a bipolar disposition. I was born in a country that is globally known as a “super power” but my heritage is embedded in a country that is now known as the hotbed of Islamic extremists.

Believe me there is so much more shit that can be assigned to Nigeria — if you don’t believe me check out why our Independence Day makes me want to gag or why I was adamantly sure that the missing girls were never going to be found.

During the gag-worthy electoral phase this past February, which saw us transitioning from our then harassed moron to a moral sadist who had already screwed us back in the day when our government structure was the blueprint for regulated gangsters — I became privy to the fact that Nigerians are incapable of handling the truth.

The piece I wrote detailing why the elections were a complete waste of time made those in denial very uneasy. I need to know why. How the fuck can you live through what I did and see what I see and still harbor any hope that things will improve substantially after we just elected a vile relic from the past?

Now we are how many months in? I refuse to count. The point is that nothing has changed. We are still searching for the girls who are now women because they’ve all given birth multiple times.

Those innocent babies are being groomed for suicide bombing expeditions that are currently being implemented with disturbing frequency on behalf of Boko Haram. The true leaders of Nigeria. They’ve been in power since 2009 and they will continue until kingdom come.

Nigerian President, Muhammadu Buhari visited the U.S. and met with President Obama this summer but nothing was accomplished. Buhari basically used the meeting as a shield to ward off naysayers while he reinserted his validity. Both men dispersed with no intentions of following through or following up.

Meanwhile suicide bombings in Nigeria have become a rampant expectation. My social media space is constantly ablaze with mind-numbing headlines and scattered images.

Another young girl blows up in the name of bullshit and takes those around her along for the fiery ride.

Buhari and Obama shook hands and pledged allegiance to each to each other — but the body count since then trumps their disingenuous efforts.

Lives are being extinguished without consequence and nobody seems to give a fuck!

So, yeah, I pretty much loath my country and it hates me back. It also despises those who love it more than it deserves. I will never forgive destiny for torturing me with the worst love affair of my existence.

I admire the rolling hills, the swaying palm trees, the peaks of the plateaus and the idealism of a people that never waver in their adherence to the code of madness that devours us whole then habitually spits us out with polluted pleasure.

As an American citizen — I’m free to convey my unrestrained disgust but as a Nigerian — I have to hold my tongue and use my eyes to convey my despair.

But I am done. I’m done with the ones who are suffering from crippling delusion. And I’m done with pretending that Nigeria hasn’t been on it’s death bed since the late seventies.

So save your prayers. The schoolgirls are long gone and will never be found. Boko Haram will never be defeated.

And I will always be a Nigerian who is trying to be American — but even that hasn’t been a smooth transition.

But that’s another story…

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