Like a whirlwind, they came.
Like the dangerous tsunamis, they flooded the land.
Like the hurricane, they swept off the landscape.
Like earthquakes, they left destruction in their paths.
It was called mainstream politics.
Theirs was not to appeal.
It was not to plead with the people.
It was not to solicit for support or understanding.
It was not to allow the rule of law take its course.
Neither were there programmes for the people.
The people were irrelevant.
With or without the people, the apostles of mainstream politics were sure of acquiring power.
It was a conquering army on the move.
It was a "do or die" affair.
Theirs was to subdue, enslave, subjugate loot and enshrine a reign of terror in the land.
They were antithetical to development.
They de-flowered the innocence of the people.
They left behind tears, sorrow and blood.
The people became the victims.
In Ogun, Oyo, Ondo, Osun, Oyo, Ekiti, Edo and Delta States, The Emperors reigned supreme.
Like John Keats' Ozymandias, they became tin gods.
They were worshipped and their words became law.
Nothing was too big to be sacrificed so that they can perpetually remain in power.
People and resources were therefore sacrificed.
The people were cowed but not forever.
They bestrode the land like colossus, trampling on the people and their resources.
Because, they were bereft of ideas, looting and brute force became the order of governance.
They were already planning on how to continue their plunder in 2011 but not reckoning with the power of the people and rule of law.
Like the son of Ogun (the one that spits fire like Sango) once said: "the man died in all men who keep mute in the face of tyranny".
Thankfully, the man has not died in the life of the people.
Led by the generalissimo, the Asiwaju, with such able lieutenants as the comrade orator of Edo, the Marxist in Ekiti State, the Iroko of Ondo, the technocrat in Lagos, the political engineer of Oshun State and the millions of foot soldiers, it was a matter of time before the emperors and their empires crumbled.
The people confronted the devil.
With the law and God on their side, victory was certain.
Light will always triumph over darkness.
We expected an epic fight, a battle royal.
It turned out to be an anticlimax.
The wind has blown and we have seen the strength of their majesties.
In fact, strength they have not.
We thought they were giants not knowing they were mere paper tigers.
It was a David and Goliath fight.
A fling of stone and they were blown away.
The wind of change has swept some of them off.
There is liberation fever in the land.
Delta State is next on the line.
This wind of change will continue to 2011.
Those emperors still remaining learn from the story of Ozymandias.
If they do not know it, I crave the indulgence of the publisher to reproduce it below: I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.
Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains.
Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Like the dangerous tsunamis, they flooded the land.
Like the hurricane, they swept off the landscape.
Like earthquakes, they left destruction in their paths.
It was called mainstream politics.
Theirs was not to appeal.
It was not to plead with the people.
It was not to solicit for support or understanding.
It was not to allow the rule of law take its course.
Neither were there programmes for the people.
The people were irrelevant.
With or without the people, the apostles of mainstream politics were sure of acquiring power.
It was a conquering army on the move.
It was a "do or die" affair.
Theirs was to subdue, enslave, subjugate loot and enshrine a reign of terror in the land.
They were antithetical to development.
They de-flowered the innocence of the people.
They left behind tears, sorrow and blood.
The people became the victims.
In Ogun, Oyo, Ondo, Osun, Oyo, Ekiti, Edo and Delta States, The Emperors reigned supreme.
Like John Keats' Ozymandias, they became tin gods.
They were worshipped and their words became law.
Nothing was too big to be sacrificed so that they can perpetually remain in power.
People and resources were therefore sacrificed.
The people were cowed but not forever.
They bestrode the land like colossus, trampling on the people and their resources.
Because, they were bereft of ideas, looting and brute force became the order of governance.
They were already planning on how to continue their plunder in 2011 but not reckoning with the power of the people and rule of law.
Like the son of Ogun (the one that spits fire like Sango) once said: "the man died in all men who keep mute in the face of tyranny".
Thankfully, the man has not died in the life of the people.
Led by the generalissimo, the Asiwaju, with such able lieutenants as the comrade orator of Edo, the Marxist in Ekiti State, the Iroko of Ondo, the technocrat in Lagos, the political engineer of Oshun State and the millions of foot soldiers, it was a matter of time before the emperors and their empires crumbled.
The people confronted the devil.
With the law and God on their side, victory was certain.
Light will always triumph over darkness.
We expected an epic fight, a battle royal.
It turned out to be an anticlimax.
The wind has blown and we have seen the strength of their majesties.
In fact, strength they have not.
We thought they were giants not knowing they were mere paper tigers.
It was a David and Goliath fight.
A fling of stone and they were blown away.
The wind of change has swept some of them off.
There is liberation fever in the land.
Delta State is next on the line.
This wind of change will continue to 2011.
Those emperors still remaining learn from the story of Ozymandias.
If they do not know it, I crave the indulgence of the publisher to reproduce it below: I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.
Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains.
Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.