Travesty (4)

The next morning at ten o'clock, two suitcases cases arrived at Lara's apartment but Tolu was nowhere in sight. Lara left instructions with Lucy to let her in when she eventually appeared and then went to church. As her car pulled into the spacious car park of Archbishop Vining Memorial Church, her heart fluttered and she adjusted her black vintage pillbox hat on her head. Going to church every Sunday in Lagos was like brushing one's teeth, everyone went to church, you only missed church when you were out of the country. Richard opened her door for her and as she expected, the 'paps' where waiting to capture her on their cameras. She pulled down her blue velvet sleeveless dress so it just touched her knees and smiled for all of them as she went up the stairs to the church hall.

 

Despite the rumours that the church was supposedly the oldest church in Lagos, the floors were cream marble and ghastly chandeliers hung sparingly across the room thanks to its many generous and wealthy members. The stained glasses were replaced with new ones from Rome every Christmas and the pastor was constantly thanking someone for donating the "best organ in the world to the church." Every sunday was an elegant affair and the hall looked more like a venue for an award ceremony in Hollywood than a place of worship. Lara had never been to church on time but Funke told her that a red carpet was rolled out every morning for the early comers or on time members. The only thing that reminded one that they were at church was the thick smell of incense that swayed in the air.

 

The crammed hall was full of all the usual people, politicians, socialites and their little children all dressed in ridiculously expensive dresses and suits with diamonds and gold dripping off their bodies. Even though Lara was two hours late, the first usher that saw her, smiled and ushered her to the front pew where both her parents were seated. Her mother pecked her cheeks as she sat beside her and whispered, "You look beautiful sweetheart." Her father nodded sternly in acknowledgement of her and looked straight ahead of him at the pastor like he was receiving a special word. Ade's mother, who sat on the pew behind them, leaned forward and pecked Lara's cheek and smiled widely like she hadn't seen her in years even though they saw themselves just four days ago. Ade's father was nowhere in sight, but he was probably on a business or pleasure trip, Lara thought. The overpowering smell of her mother and Ade's mother's perfume combined, always made her stomach churn and today was no exception. After all the stares at her dress subsided, Lara settled into her seat and looked round the church to take a quick inventory of who was present today and who she was going to avoid after the service.

 

Funke sat three pews behind her and rolled her eyes when they met Lara's eyes and Lara smiled. She was unconventionally beautiful and what she wore was as important to her as drinking water every day. Her husband, Timothy, sat beside her looking very serious and clean as usual. Nobody really understood how their marriage worked because they were such complete opposites. Funke was this airhead, who only cared about clothes and fashion weeks and Tim was a thoroughly well bred business man who doubled his family's money since he took over the business after he graduated with a first class from New York University. One would have expected him to marry an equally thoroughly bred woman but like so many mysteries in Lagos, he chose Funke. He smiled politely at Lara when he saw her looking his way. Towards the back of the church, she noticed the wannabe girls her age that were over dressed in clothes you could tell were cheap. They all sat up and smiled with too much enthusiasm when they saw her eyes on them. They were not part of the circle because they went to school and university in Lagos but they wanted to belong to the social circle so badly that they tried to be around the circle as much as possible. Since they couldn't afford or get into any of the private clubs or restaurants Lara and her friends frequented, they made sure they were in the same church with them. She smiled back at them and thought of how Funke would have scolded her if she caught her smiling at the people she called the "lost causes"

 

Once Lara had gotten a good view of everyone present in the church, she re adjusted in her seat and tried to focus on whatever the pastor was saying but as it was practically impossible to understand his English, she let her mind wander. She thought about what she was going to say to her father the moment she caught him alone and whether or not she was going to tell her mother and Funke about what Ade did yesterday. The pastor announced that everybody should rise for the closing prayer and Lara muttered "thank God" under her breath.

 

"What did you say darling?" Her mother whispered.

 

"I said thank God." Lara replied and her mother smiled.

 

"Please tell me you are coming for dinner tonight?"

 

"Of course I am. Why would you think I won't?"

 

Her mother shrugged, "Well, you know. You've been saying you are bored and all."

 

Lara smiled and squeezed her mother's hands, "Your parties bore me, but it doesn't mean I'll stop attending them. At least not till I find something meaningful to do"

With all my love,

Dara Rhodes

I weep for the 'elites' in my country

   Photo: www.globalreportersvienna.com

I write with a very heavy heart today. 

I have a theory that has been proven. 97 percent of Nigeria is made up of the masses and the 'elites' make up just 3 percent. Hear me out. If you are reading this or have access to the internet, you are in the three per cent. I have been very generous with defining who falls into the 'elite' category. Please locate yourself in the next two paragraphs.

If you can read and write very well, you are in the three per cent. If you went to school and finished your education, you are in the three per cent. If you went to university in England or anywhere else outside Nigeria, you are in the three percent. If you have lived in any developed country for more than three months, you are in the three per cent. I don't care if you lived in a ghetto in that country, you were exposed to how a normal country runs so you are in the three percent. If you are in the lower-middle class, middle-middle class or upper-middle class, congrats, you are in the three percent. If you found yourself in this paragraph, congratulations. You are in the 2.7percent of the three percent and I weep for you.

Now, the 0.3 percent of the three per cent. If your parents went to school in England or America or Switzerland, you are in the 0.3 per cent. If you went to boarding school in England, you are in the 0.3 per cent. If your grandparents were highly educated and/or professionals, you are in the 0.3 xper cent. That's all. If you found yourself in this paragraph, congrats. I weep for you especially. 

The 97 percent did not go to school or were forced to dropped out at some point. The 97 percent are unemployed, young and angry. The 97 percent can't/won't see this on the internet. The 97 percent don't eat three square meals a day. The 97 percent are grassroot politicians. The 97 per cent are Boko Haram recruitable. 

Now, here's why I weep for the three percent. The Nigerian elite. You think all is well. I'm saying 'you' because if you are reading this, you are in the three percent. You wake up in the morning, dress up and drive to work. Your children go to school right? Or, you get on the flight back to school in England after every holiday in Lagos, right? As long as you are moving forward, all is well right? Wrong. 

In England, their boarding schools are full of two major nationalities. Chinese and Nigerians. I went to a girls boarding school in England at the tender age of 12 and my boarding house was full of Chinese girls. My younger sisters and I were the youngest of all the Nigerian boarders. There was only one British girl in the boarding house. Forgive me for what I want to say now but the Nigerian elite are foolish. To them, the education and exposure is about showing off. The Chinese elite are wise. To them, it's about building China. The Chinese elite parents make sure their children get the British education and then throw them into the Chinese political system. There, they use the exposure they got to further whatever agendas they want. Those children go and add value to China. 

In my own beloved country, those children return and behave like they never left. They return and look down on the political system. They insult it and develop the 'as long as my family and I are okay, all is well' mentality. They return and do not add value to Nigeria. 

Here's why I weep for all of us. A Local Government Area (LGA) in Lagos state is made up of 10 to 12 wards. One ward in Animosho ( an LGA looked down upon in Lagos) has 182 polling booths. The same amount of polling booths as the entire Eti-Osa LGA ( A high brow area) The 97 per cent are actively more involved in the politics of our country than all of us 'elite' 

Here's the saddest part, GRA, Ikeja, Vi and Ikoyi (some highbrow areas) are surrounded by ghettos. If the 97 percent were to revolt, all they have to do is cross over. They are a lot more than us in their numbers that all our security men can't stop them. In America, England and all the other developed countries, the elite are in power. In my wonderful country, you get into power and then become 'elite'. Since the real elites with the best education and exposure look down on them and are too cool for politics, the people in power do as they wish. I weep oh. I weep for us. We are literally sitting and waiting for the 97 per cent to get angrier. 

Here's a story for you. A white taxi driver in London once told my friend's father that he has been driving Nigerian children to school from the airport and back for thirty years. He said that one of the children he used to drive invited him to Lagos and he nearly collapsed at what he saw. Where were all the children that he drove to all those schools from the airport and back? He thought. What did they do with the expensive education they got from England? He told my friend's father that he was so disappointed with what he saw in Lagos and Nigeria. When my friend's dad reached his destination, he gave the taxi driver a tip but the man returned it and said, please use that money to transform your country.

I weep for us because we really don't understand how critical Nigeria's situation is. I weep for the Nigerian 'elite' because they are meant to be the bright ones but they are so stupid. 

With all my love,

Dara Rhodes