On The Road To The Apocalypse!

By Ikenga Chronicles January 14, 2019

On The Road To The Apocalypse!

–Onyemaechi Ogbunwezeh

Here it is once again.

Societies racing to hell usually make pit-stops at irrationality, to re-tank their superstitions. On their way to oblivion, they spend their meagre existential capital celebrating inanity. They are hooked on their Oblivion-Express. They are most times, busy pursuing rodents, while their universe goes up in flames.

History is replete with footnotes to this. That was the case with ancient Rome. Mighty Rome in all its splendour and awe, allowed itself the unaffordable luxury of a Nero, who would legendarily fiddle, while Rome burnt.

Such frivolity in the face of annihilation is incomprehensible. Once apocalypse calls, such societies promptly rose to self-destruct. They virtually decapitated themselves. They bound themselves in chains of actions and inaction against self-preservation, and delivered their posterity to the hangman’s noose. And to that end, they deserved their collapse more than any other thing. They willed it. They actively worked for it, or passively ignored the writings on the wall indicating the numbering of their days in sun.

Nigeria is burning on all fronts. And all our people are busy doing is literally going with lamps into people’s bedrooms to find out which man is sleeping with which man.

The NNPC and the Nigerian public life is a den of primitive corruption and all our president could do was to sign an Anti-same sex marriage bill into law. Boko Haram has colonized Northern Nigeria, and all our legislators could deliberate upon, is on whose phallus is going into whose anal cavity. Planes are still falling out of Nigerian skies, and the only response our politicians could offer is to hand over a justification to ignorant brutes to hunt down homosexuals and lynch them like has been the Nigerian tradition. 80% of Nigerians are still living under the poverty line. 60% of our people are still illiterate. The Corruption is still the currency of public operation. Darkness and epileptic power supply still eviscerates every attempt at industrial development. Our roads are still dark stretches of manholes. Our poverty is still massive. Our hopelessness still pronounced.

Yet, the only problem that most Nigerians have, are the none-existence fear of the homosexual, which was invented by our politicians at the twilight of last year, to justify their inability to record any meaning achievement since they came to power, and to deflect attention from their grotesque incompetence. Such a massive propensity to be bamboozled by trivialities, has forever being the hallmark of societies on the well to hell. They are condemned to pursuing rodents, while their heritage burns to cinders, at the behest of visionless Machiavellians. Even today, Nigeria has graduated into the poverty capital of the world and Buhari is busy trying to rig the forthcoming elections.

History witnessed these societies destroying themselves with all the pomp and majesty native to obscenity. Reason convicts our caprice at all those instances. How could a society about to expire, loiter around a moral bacchanalia that is more crapulent and diseased than any known to human experience? How could “we who are about to die, raise our condemned hands to salute the idolatrous image of a defunct college of “Caesars”? Or better still the thieving conglomerate of “Ogas-at-the-top”, before being ripped to shreds by the lions of self-constructed doom? Is human nature configured to be stupid? Is it in our stars?

I doubt that our stars are guilty. Shakespeare made Cassius tell Brutus the brutal truth that “men are at times masters of their own fates”; that “the fault, Dear Brutus is not in our stars, but in us that we are underlings”. Our gods, like the title of Ola Rotimi’s oedipal drama, are not to blame. The gods guarding the portals of our destiny have forever acquitted themselves well. Quite unlike the temperamental Okonkwo of Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, who disregarded the oracle’s warning not to have a hand in Ikemefuna’s death; a child who called him “father”, they have not been victims of our hubris. They have adequately absolved themselves of any hand in our destruction. So, the problem is not our stars. It is not our land. It is not God or the gods. It is neither fate nor destiny. Chinua Achebe was again right on this score. He aptly captured it in his The Trouble with Nigeria, when he submitted thus: “The trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership. There is nothing basically wrong with the Nigerian character. There is nothing wrong with the Nigerian land or climate or water or air or anything else. The Nigerian problem is the unwillingness or inability of its leaders to rise to the responsibility, to the challenge of personal example, which are the hallmarks of true leadership”.

Nigeria is at the gates of apocalypse. She is knocking and clawing to be let in. She is knocking insistently at the portals of destruction. She craves admittance into the halls of extinction. She craves the company of other cadavers that were once nations. Like other idiotic and expired embraces did in employing superstitious fundamentalisms of religious, cultural or subcultural provenance, she is today using the bloody, terroristic fists of Boko Haram; the impoverishing apathy, progressive addling of the masses, which recommends a corrosive abandonment of reason, to pound at the gates apocalypse, just like the Mayan civilization mirrored in Mel Gibson’s film, “Apocalypto” did.

The Mayan embrace depicted in that movie, spent its civilizational capital cannibalizing itself in a gory spectacle of mass murder, scaffolded on impenetrable ignorance. That ignorance was actively fanned by the priestcraft of their doomed race. To that end, a race that has an abundance of nature’s blessings conscripted itself to the celebration of a gory orgy of bloodletting, which it canonized with a dogmatic superstition of the debauched and bloody variety.

That race kept believing the nonsense that the more hearts it can rip off the screaming and tortured bodies of their sacrificial victims, the greater their chance of keeping the sun in the sky.

What an impudent nonsense!

Holy murder became the business of state, until they plundered their jungle embrace, leaving it bereft of neighbours, who could have acted as a buffer or an alliance, when the Spaniards knocked on the doors, to push that already decimated embrace into an enslavement, whose echoes still reverberate today in Latin America.

With the Mayan example, one can see that at those pit stops, dysfunctional myths are patronized. Retired falsehoods are canonized. And irrationalities both idiotic and suicidal always galvanized to support primeval absurdities, which have no credible role to play in human affairs.

At those stops, festivals of ignorance are convoked, and tuned up to drown out every voice of reason. Crimes are celebrated with the ironical solemnity of the worst dregs of sepulchral rottenness. Grimy holocausts are convoked off the lives, limbs, and psyches of the future generations, to appease the vampyrean thirsts of the geriatric debauchees and ignoramuses of state, holding such societies to ransom. For those societies, history taught nothing. The lessons of experience were just inconvenient hiccups on the paths of habitual non-reflexion. And as an amorphous collection of morons; congenitally incapable of interrogating reality, they were condemned to self-destruction. They were doomed to become footnotes to memory. With infinite reservoirs of impunity, they marched gloriously to decapitate their civilization. And just like imploding stars, they collapsed into a black hole of savagery.

Before they flicker and die like expired stars, those societies in one monumental sigh of death, essayed to construct pantheons of illusion, where golden calves of elitist ignorance, are imposed on the entire society, as divine will. These murderous illusions not only signal the obituary of every culture; it is collapse. Apocalypto!

Back to our Mayan example again!

The Mayans like all others; strove to civilization. They built cities and constructed pyramids. But once apocalypse knocked, they dedicated their cities of stone, to murder. They invaded their neighbours, devastated them, took their women, and killed their men. The captives they took to their temples and butchered them to death, in order to offer their hearts to the gods of their ignorance.

Those were the first shots at retrogression.

Like the young kids abandoned in a deserted Island did in William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, once the first blood was shed, the floodgates of violence were opened. That deluged their land in a thirst for blood, which will never be satiated inasmuch as there are human beings around.

The pre-colonial African societies were very busy weakening themselves from within. Most of them created internal institutions of slavery, which was against the canons of social justice. Responding to international commerce, they started selling their enemies to the Whiteman. And when the reservoir of enemies was exhausted, they started selling their own people under flimsy pretexts. The institutional arrogance of internal slavery comported to a crosspollination with its international variety. When the white man decided that both the people and the land were attractive to his avarice, he came knocking with guns and canons. The societies that celebrated the abomination of selling human beings, had no human beings to defend her, when most of her kind were already marching into slavery in most parts of the world.

Every member of such doomed society must bend the knee in subservient genuflection at those altars, or risk his existence. They created such citadels of retrograde rhetoric, which is impervious to every essay of reason. Such establishments of sacred foolery are the refuse-dumps of reason. Some call it religion. Others; tradition! There, the mantra becomes, “abandon reason, all ye that enter here”; aping the infernal finality of Dante’s Inferno.

This metamorphosis of elitist neurosis into a belief system, empanels a situation where iniquity is empowered, not only to smother inquiry, but to forever masquerade as holiness, until that society bows to its doom. It gives rise to guardians of vacuous orthodoxy peddling spiritual wares of fraudulence. It sanctions and sanctifies mercenaries of myth, who sell pathologies of innate sinfulness to the gullible in order to skim them off their economic resources and keep them forever enslaved to their caprices.

For those who differed, inquisitorial tribunals awaited. The priestcrafts of these religions spent centuries handing out magisterial pontifications, in areas of their rank incompetence.

Galileo had to be imprisoned for preaching against the geocentric homiletics of the Christian church. This was happening, while the sepulchral rottenness of some of their cathedrals of corruption, were housing the skeletons of the scandalous.

Our Dear Pope Alexander the VI!!! Long may your orgies live in our memory! Your “most Holy phallus” fathered a bunch of bastards on the Stool of St. Peter, even as women were burnt as witches and branded as harlots under your reign across Europe.

The holy prostitution of those pretentious sanctuaries sickened heaven and scandalised earth. Rasputin latched onto the same ancient mixture of superstition and hypocrisy. But once he lost the power game behind every religious pretention, his phallus was destined to rest in peace, in some container of formalin, in some not-so-holy museum.

The cultural dimension of this poisonous broth of hypocrisy and cultural superstition of the supremacist variety, could be seen in Thomas Jefferson. This hypocrite was busy authoring one of the greatest democratic documents detailing equality of all men, as evidenced in the American declaration of independence. On the same pedestal, he was keeping men and women as slaves, due to their colour. He was a racist of the hypocritical variety. In the mornings, he would despise the black race as a sub-human one, like the institution of the slavery in the American colonies held. Yet, at night, he will shuffle off his supremacist high horse and stoop to fuck a slave.

A slave’s vagina was fair game for his phallic convenience, but the personality of the slave was the one he abhors before polite, hypocritical company of his own race.

Although these are some of the characters and plots, one is compelled to encounter on the roads to apocalypse; none of these moments or characters occupying them are enough in themselves to visit apocalypse on any society. These characters and plots must come in the right quantity at the right place and point in time before a society could be so rotten as to cave in at the shove of the elements.

Let’s see how Nigeria fares on the path to the isles of the dead.

Nigeria at the Gates of Apocalypse

Like so many others, I have been on various occasions compelled to ask whether Nigeria is the headquarters of hell on earth. Those questions were provocations designed to startle the Nigerian mind into realising the untenable nature of our state and the unsustainable nature of our civic debaucheries. But all those published musings fell on deaf ears. The corruption, since then have become more pervasive and consolidated. The Low density conflicts have evolved into full-blown urban-guerrilla warfare, with fluid and diminishing fronts every day. The irresponsibility of the leadership has assumed a more brazen dimension. Our politicians are now stealing in billions and in dollar denominations. The ethical variousness of our state stinks more than the Aegean stables of antiquity. And above all, our religions have been co-opted and conscripted into the service of thievery and arrant materialism that is obscene, ostentatious, ignorant and convulsively ugly.

In Nigeria, religion has assumed the role of a Marxian narcotic. Signs of faith are everywhere. But sepulchral rottenness is tradition, even to the furthest reaches of the sanctuaries. God has become our excuse for inaction. Submission to the will of the almighty has become our way of surrendering our rights to ask questions at the altars of our cowardice. They forgot the ancient counsel of Sophocles. Heaven has never helped those who would never act. They conveniently ignored the exhortations of Cassius on Brutus; that men are the masters of their own fates; that the fault would never lie in our stars, but in us that we are underlings. For a lot of Nigerians, religion became the cemetery of reason. It became were common sense and decency go to die. It became where rank hypocrisy is seated on the throne to judge over the living and dead.

The laughably obscene theatre continued, as hypocrisy passed judgement on iniquity. In some of the religions, pedophilic-priestcraft legislated over women’s vagina. In another, an archaic and obsolete patriarchy, which commends the marriage of kids, was busy promising bloodletters a paradise of 72 virgins that would befuddle any earthly swinger club.

In those hollow temples of cant, the timid bows to bold ignorance. For some, I may be a religious iconoclast. But they forget that knowledge remains an iconoclasm for ignorance.

What about the ignorant who organized pilgrimages to timidity? They bowed to subservience. They congregated in a herd. They called themselves flock. But they forgot that whoever converts himself into a sheep has prepared himself as supper for the wolves.

This is not only for the religious fanatic, but for the Buharideen and the Atikulators of today’s Nigeria; the Nigeria you think you have, is sinking!

Gwazia ndi yard unu!

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