TINUBU HAVE MERCY ON MY PEOPLE. BIKO

TINUBU HAVE MERCY ON MY PEOPLE. BIKO

TINUBU HAVE MERCY ON MY PEOPLE. BIKO

The Catholic Bishops carried no gifts.

No contracts.

No hidden agenda.

They simply carried the cries of ordinary Nigerians.

The mother whose pot no longer boils.

The father who works all day but still goes to bed with unanswered prayers.

The graduate whose dreams have become older than his certificates.

The trader counting losses instead of profits.

The pensioner surviving on memories instead of dignity.

They carried our pain

Hoping someone in power would hear the heartbeat of the streets.

But a nation searching for empathy returned with explanations.

A hungry stomach does not argue with figures.

A broken home does not celebrate statistics.

The tears of the people cannot be cancelled by speeches.

History has whispered this lesson before.

A king once ignored the cry of his people.

He listened to those who protected his comfort instead of those who revealed the truth.

The throne remained.

But the kingdom broke.

Power is never deaf overnight.

It first becomes comfortable.

Then it becomes distant.

And finally, it mistakes silence for peace.

The greatest gift any leader can possess is not authority.

It is the humility to listen.

Because when the voices of the people can no longer reach the palace, history begins to knock at the gate.

And history never whispers.

Asanwa