YOU FOOLISH (Intellectual) AFRICAN IDIOT! If you consider yourself smart, please read this:

Please before you continue reading. .this is a typical Harry's thread, that means it's obviously a long read..
Please once more if you hate reading long articles please do stop now,ok


Some still call it “the dark continent” for the light that flickers under the tunnel is not that of hope, but an approaching train. And because countless keep waiting in the way of the train, millions die and many more remain decapitated by the day.

“It’s amazing how you all sit there and watch yourselves die,” the man next to me said. “Get up and do something about it.”

Brawny, fully bald-headed, with intense, steely eyes, he was as cold as they come. When I first discovered I was going to spend my New Year’s Eve next to him on a non-stop JetBlue flight from Los Angeles to Boston I was angst-ridden. I associate marble-shaven Caucasians with iconoclastic skin-heads, most of who are racist.

“My name is Walter,” he extended his hand as soon as I settled in my seat.

"What's yours?" he still asked

I told him,"Harry.." with a precautious smile.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Nigeria.”

“Nigeria!” he exclaimed, “Obasanjo’s country.”

“Yes,” I said, “Now Buhari's.”

“But of course,” he responded. “You just elected General 'Anti-corruption' as your president.”

My face lit up at the mention of Buhari's moniker. Walter smiled, and in those cold eyes I saw an amenable fellow, one of those American highbrows who shuttle between Africa and the U.S.

“I spent three years in Nigeria in the 1980s,” he continued. “I wined and dined with Babangida, Obasanjo, Dr. Alex Ekwueme, and many other highly intelligent Nigerians.” He lowered his voice. “I was part of the IMF group that came to rip you guys off.” He smirked. “Your government put me in a million dollar mansion overlooking a shanty in Abuja. From my patio I saw it all—the rich and the poor, the ailing, the dead, and the healthy.”

 

“Are you still with the IMF?” I asked.

“I have since moved to yet another group with similar intentions. In the next few months my colleagues and I will be in Abuja to hypnotize the General. I work for the broker that has acquired a chunk of your debt. Your government owes not the World Bank, but us millions of dollars. We’ll be in Abuja to offer your president a couple of millions and fly back with a check twenty times greater.”

“No, you won’t,” I said. “President Buhari is incorruptible. He is …”

He was laughing. “Says who? Give me an African president, just one, who has not fallen for the carrot and stick.”

I just kept shut.

At midnight we were airborne. The captain wished us a happy new year and urged us to watch the fireworks across Los Angeles.

“Isn’t that beautiful,” Walter said looking down.

From my middle seat, I took a glance and nodded admirably.

“That’s white man’s country,” he said. “We came here on Mayflower and turned Indian land into a paradise and now the most powerful nation on earth. We discovered the bulb, and built this aircraft to fly us to pleasure resorts like Lake Nigeria.”

I grinned. “There is no Lake Nigeria.”

He curled his lips into a smug smile. “That’s what we call your country. You guys are as stagnant as the water in the lake. We come in with our large airplanes & boats and Still fish your minerals and your wildlife and leave morsels—crumbs. That’s your staple food, crumbs. That cassava(garri)-meal you eat, that’s crumbs, the small Tilapia fish you call Shiney is crumbs. We the Oyibo(whites) take the cat fish. I am the Northerner and you are the Niger Deltan. I get what I want and you get what you deserve, crumbs. That’s what lazy people get—Nigerians, Africans, the entire Third World.”

The smile vanished from my face.

“I see you are getting pissed off,” Walter said and lowered his voice. “You are thinking this Oyibo is a racist. That’s how most Nigerians respond when I tell them the truth. They go ballistic. Okay. Let’s for a moment put our skin pigmentations, this black and white crap, aside. Tell me, my friend, what is the difference between you and me?”

“There’s no difference.”

“Absolutely none,” he exclaimed. “Scientists in the Human Genome Project have proved that. It took them thirteen years to determine the complete sequence of the three billion DNA subunits. After they were all done it was clear that 99.9% nucleotide bases were exactly the same in you and me. We are the same people. All white, Asian, Latino, and black people on this aircraft are the same.”

I gladly nodded.

“And yet I feel superior,” he smiled fatalistically. “Every white person on this plane feels superior to a black person. The white guy who picks up garbage, the homeless white trash on drugs, feels superior to you no matter his status or education. I can pick up a nincompoop from the New York streets, clean him up, and take him to Lagos or Abuja and your government will provide security forces to guard them and you all be crowding around him chanting Oyibo , Oyibo and yet he’s a riffraff. Tell me why my angry friend.”

For a moment I was wordless.

“Please don’t blame it on slavery like the African Americans do, or colonialism, or some psychological impact or some kind of stigmatization. And don’t give me the brainwash poppycock. Give me a better answer.”

I was thinking.

He continued. “Excuse what I am about to say. Please do not take offense.”

I felt a slap of blood rush to my head and prepared for the worst.

“You my friend flying with me and all your kind are lazy,” he said. “When you rest your head on the pillow you don’t dream big. You and other so-called African intellectuals are damn lazy, each one of you. It is you, and not those poor starving people, who is the reason Africa is in such a deplorable state.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” I protested.

He was implacable. “Oh yes it is and I will say it again, you are lazy. Poor and uneducated Africans are the most hardworking people on earth. I saw them in the Ariaria,Balaogun,Mile 1markets and on the street selling merchandise. I saw them in villages toiling away. I saw women on Ebonyi states Road crushing stones or whatever to sell and I wept. I said to myself where are the Nigerian intellectuals? Are the Nigerian engineers so imperceptive they cannot invent a simple stone crusher, or a simple water filter to purify well water for those poor villagers? Are you telling me that after Fifty-six years of independence your university school of engineering has not produced a scientist or an engineer who can make simple small machines for mass use? What is the school there for?”

I held my breath.

“Do you know where I found your intellectuals? They were in bars boozing or Balling as you guys put it. They were at the Abuja Golf Club, Portharcourt  Central Club, Quillox night club,Ibari ogwa. I saw with my own eyes a bunch of alcoholic graduates. Nigerian intellectuals work from eight to five and spend the evening drinking. We don’t. We reserve the evening for brainstorming.”

He looked me in the eye.

“And you flying to Boston and all of you Nigerians in the Diaspora are just as lazy and apathetic to your country. You don’t care about your country and yet your very own parents, brothers and sisters are in Aba, Ebonyi, the Northland in villages, all of them living in squalor. Many have died or are dying of neglect by you. They are dying of AIDS because you cannot come up with your own cure. You are here calling yourselves graduates, researchers and scientists and are fast at articulating your credentials once asked—oh, I have a PhD in this and that—PhD my foot!”

I was deflated.

“Wake up you all!” he exclaimed, attracting the attention of nearby passengers. “You should be busy lifting ideas, formulae, recipes, and diagrams from American manufacturing factories and sending them to your own factories. All those research findings and dissertation papers you compile should be your country’s treasure. Why do you think the Asians are a force to reckon with? They stole our ideas and turned them into their own. Look at Japan, China, India, just look at them.”

He paused. “The Oyibo has spoken,” he said and grinned. “As long as you are dependent on my plane, I shall feel superior and you my friend shall remain inferior, how about that? The Chinese, Japanese, Indians, even Latinos are a notch better. You Africans are at the bottom of the totem pole.”

He tempered his voice. “Get over this white skin syndrome and begin to feel confident. Become innovative and make your own stuff for god’s sake.”

At 8 a.m. the plane touched down at Boston’s Logan International Airport. Walter reached for my hand.

“I know I was too strong, but I don’t give it a damn. I have been to Nigeria and have seen too much poverty.” He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something. “Here, read this. It was written by a friend.”

He had written only the title: “Lords of Poverty.”

Thunderstruck, I had a sinking feeling. I watched Walter walk through the airport doors to a waiting car. He had left a huge dust devil twirling in my mind, stirring up sad memories of home. I could see Nigeria’s literati—the cognoscente, intelligentsia, academics, highbrows, and scholars in the places he had mentioned guzzling and talking irrelevancies. I remembered some who have since passed—how they got the highest grades in mathematics and the sciences and attained the highest education on the planet. They had been to Harvard, Oxford, Yale, Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), only to leave us with not a single invention or discovery. I knew some by name and drunk with a privileged few at the Ibari ogwa and Quillox.

Walter is right. It is true that since independence we have failed to nurture creativity and collective orientations. We as a nation lack a workhorse mentality and behave like over 60 million civil servants dependent on a government pay cheque. We believe that development is generated 8-to-5 behind a desk wearing a tie with our degrees hanging on the wall. Such a working environment does not offer the opportunity for fellowship, the excitement of competition, and the spectacle of innovative rituals.

But the intelligentsia is not solely, or even mainly, to blame. The larger failure is due to political circumstances over which they have had little control. The past governments failed to create an environment of possibility that fosters camaraderie, rewards innovative ideas and encourages resilience. Babaginda,Obasanjo, Yaradua, Jonathan, and Buhari embraced orthodox ideas and therefore failed to offer many opportunities for drawing outside the line.

No..don't mention Innoson Motors,I believe all they do is assembling machines produced by others,someone should prove me wrong though.

Knowing well that Buhari will not embody innovation at Walter’s level let’s begin to dream big and make tractors, cars, and planes, or, like Walter said, forever remain inferior.

A fundamental transformation of our country from what is essentially non-innovative to a strategic superior African country requires a bold risk-taking educated leader with a triumphalist attitude and no human being on earth have such qualifications. Don’t be highly strung and feel insulted by Walter. Take a moment and think about our country. The so-called journey from 1960 has been marked by tears. It has been an emotionally overwhelming experience. Each one of us has lost a loved one to poverty, hunger, and disease. The number of graves is catching up with the population. It’s time to look out to a supreme being for help cos nobody else, not even you reading this can rule or govern humans well.

It's time for a sober reflection human politics can't & won't help matters all over the world.


Modified..

This article was penned by to suit the Nigerian readers'sphere.

And Originally reviewed by Field Ruwe, Alex Walter, Zakes Mda,Amiri Baraka,Uzodinmma,Laila Lalami and a host of members of the LitHub crew.


~Chocoberry~

http://navicorp.com.ng/intellectual-african-idiot/

BBC3.news.com

Lalasticlala

bigfrancis21

Fulaman198

odumch

Mynd44

OAM4J

Seun Osewa

Harrychocoberry:
YOU FOOLISH (Intellectual) AFRICAN IDIOT! If you consider yourself smart, please read this:

Please before you continue reading. .this is a typical Harry's thread, that means it's obviously a long read..
Please once more if you hate reading long articles please do stop now,ok


Some still call it “the dark continent” for the light that flickers under the tunnel is not that of hope, but an approaching train. And because countless keep waiting in the way of the train, millions die and many more remain decapitated by the day.

“It’s amazing how you all sit there and watch yourselves die,” the man next to me said. “Get up and do something about it.”

Brawny, fully bald-headed, with intense, steely eyes, he was as cold as they come. When I first discovered I was going to spend my New Year’s Eve next to him on a non-stop JetBlue flight from Los Angeles to Boston I was angst-ridden. I associate marble-shaven Caucasians with iconoclastic skin-heads, most of who are racist.

“My name is Walter,” he extended his hand as soon as I settled in my seat.

"What's yours?" he still asked

I told him,"Harry.." with a precautious smile.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Nigeria.”

“Nigeria!” he exclaimed, “Obasanjo’s country.”

“Yes,” I said, “Now Buhari's.”

“But of course,” he responded. “You just elected General 'Anti-corruption' as your president.”

My face lit up at the mention of Buhari's moniker. Walter smiled, and in those cold eyes I saw an amenable fellow, one of those American highbrows who shuttle between Africa and the U.S.

“I spent three years in Nigeria in the 1980s,” he continued. “I wined and dined with Babangida, Obasanjo, Dr. Alex Ekwueme, and many other highly intelligent Nigerians.” He lowered his voice. “I was part of the IMF group that came to rip you guys off.” He smirked. “Your government put me in a million dollar mansion overlooking a shanty in Abuja. From my patio I saw it all—the rich and the poor, the ailing, the dead, and the healthy.”

 

“Are you still with the IMF?” I asked.

“I have since moved to yet another group with similar intentions. In the next few months my colleagues and I will be in Abuja to hypnotize the General. I work for the broker that has acquired a chunk of your debt. Your government owes not the World Bank, but us millions of dollars. We’ll be in Abuja to offer your president a couple of millions and fly back with a check twenty times greater.”

“No, you won’t,” I said. “President Buhari is incorruptible. He is …”

He was laughing. “Says who? Give me an African president, just one, who has not fallen for the carrot and stick.”

I just kept shut.

At midnight we were airborne. The captain wished us a happy new year and urged us to watch the fireworks across Los Angeles.

“Isn’t that beautiful,” Walter said looking down.

From my middle seat, I took a glance and nodded admirably.

“That’s white man’s country,” he said. “We came here on Mayflower and turned Indian land into a paradise and now the most powerful nation on earth. We discovered the bulb, and built this aircraft to fly us to pleasure resorts like Lake Nigeria.”

I grinned. “There is no Lake Nigeria.”

He curled his lips into a smug smile. “That’s what we call your country. You guys are as stagnant as the water in the lake. We come in with our large airplanes & boats and Still fish your minerals and your wildlife and leave morsels—crumbs. That’s your staple food, crumbs. That cassava(garri)-meal you eat, that’s crumbs, the small Tilapia fish you call Shiney is crumbs. We the Oyibo(whites) take the cat fish. I am the Northerner and you are the Niger Deltan. I get what I want and you get what you deserve, crumbs. That’s what lazy people get—Nigerians, Africans, the entire Third World.”

The smile vanished from my face.

“I see you are getting pissed off,” Walter said and lowered his voice. “You are thinking this Oyibo is a racist. That’s how most Nigerians respond when I tell them the truth. They go ballistic. Okay. Let’s for a moment put our skin pigmentations, this black and white crap, aside. Tell me, my friend, what is the difference between you and me?”

“There’s no difference.”

“Absolutely none,” he exclaimed. “Scientists in the Human Genome Project have proved that. It took them thirteen years to determine the complete sequence of the three billion DNA subunits. After they were all done it was clear that 99.9% nucleotide bases were exactly the same in you and me. We are the same people. All white, Asian, Latino, and black people on this aircraft are the same.”

I gladly nodded.

“And yet I feel superior,” he smiled fatalistically. “Every white person on this plane feels superior to a black person. The white guy who picks up garbage, the homeless white trash on drugs, feels superior to you no matter his status or education. I can pick up a nincompoop from the New York streets, clean him up, and take him to Lagos or Abuja and your government will provide security forces to guard them and you all be crowding around him chanting Oyibo , Oyibo and yet he’s a riffraff. Tell me why my angry friend.”

For a moment I was wordless.

“Please don’t blame it on slavery like the African Americans do, or colonialism, or some psychological impact or some kind of stigmatization. And don’t give me the brainwash poppycock. Give me a better answer.”

I was thinking.

He continued. “Excuse what I am about to say. Please do not take offense.”

I felt a slap of blood rush to my head and prepared for the worst.

“You my friend flying with me and all your kind are lazy,” he said. “When you rest your head on the pillow you don’t dream big. You and other so-called African intellectuals are damn lazy, each one of you. It is you, and not those poor starving people, who is the reason Africa is in such a deplorable state.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” I protested.

He was implacable. “Oh yes it is and I will say it again, you are lazy. Poor and uneducated Africans are the most hardworking people on earth. I saw them in the Ariaria,Balaogun,Mile 1markets and on the street selling merchandise. I saw them in villages toiling away. I saw women on Ebonyi states Road crushing stones or whatever to sell and I wept. I said to myself where are the Nigerian intellectuals? Are the Nigerian engineers so imperceptive they cannot invent a simple stone crusher, or a simple water filter to purify well water for those poor villagers? Are you telling me that after Fifty-six years of independence your university school of engineering has not produced a scientist or an engineer who can make simple small machines for mass use? What is the school there for?”

I held my breath.

“Do you know where I found your intellectuals? They were in bars boozing or Balling as you guys put it. They were at the Abuja Golf Club, Portharcourt  Central Club, Quillox night club,Ibari ogwa. I saw with my own eyes a bunch of alcoholic graduates. Nigerian intellectuals work from eight to five and spend the evening drinking. We don’t. We reserve the evening for brainstorming.”

He looked me in the eye.

“And you flying to Boston and all of you Nigerians in the Diaspora are just as lazy and apathetic to your country. You don’t care about your country and yet your very own parents, brothers and sisters are in Aba, Ebonyi, the Northland in villages, all of them living in squalor. Many have died or are dying of neglect by you. They are dying of AIDS because you cannot come up with your own cure. You are here calling yourselves graduates, researchers and scientists and are fast at articulating your credentials once asked—oh, I have a PhD in this and that—PhD my foot!”

I was deflated.

“Wake up you all!” he exclaimed, attracting the attention of nearby passengers. “You should be busy lifting ideas, formulae, recipes, and diagrams from American manufacturing factories and sending them to your own factories. All those research findings and dissertation papers you compile should be your country’s treasure. Why do you think the Asians are a force to reckon with? They stole our ideas and turned them into their own. Look at Japan, China, India, just look at them.”

He paused. “The Oyibo has spoken,” he said and grinned. “As long as you are dependent on my plane, I shall feel superior and you my friend shall remain inferior, how about that? The Chinese, Japanese, Indians, even Latinos are a notch better. You Africans are at the bottom of the totem pole.”

He tempered his voice. “Get over this white skin syndrome and begin to feel confident. Become innovative and make your own stuff for god’s sake.”

At 8 a.m. the plane touched down at Boston’s Logan International Airport. Walter reached for my hand.

“I know I was too strong, but I don’t give it a damn. I have been to Nigeria and have seen too much poverty.” He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something. “Here, read this. It was written by a friend.”

He had written only the title: “Lords of Poverty.”

Thunderstruck, I had a sinking feeling. I watched Walter walk through the airport doors to a waiting car. He had left a huge dust devil twirling in my mind, stirring up sad memories of home. I could see Nigeria’s literati—the cognoscente, intelligentsia, academics, highbrows, and scholars in the places he had mentioned guzzling and talking irrelevancies. I remembered some who have since passed—how they got the highest grades in mathematics and the sciences and attained the highest education on the planet. They had been to Harvard, Oxford, Yale, Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), only to leave us with not a single invention or discovery. I knew some by name and drunk with a privileged few at the Ibari ogwa and Quillox.

Walter is right. It is true that since independence we have failed to nurture creativity and collective orientations. We as a nation lack a workhorse mentality and behave like over 60 million civil servants dependent on a government pay cheque. We believe that development is generated 8-to-5 behind a desk wearing a tie with our degrees hanging on the wall. Such a working environment does not offer the opportunity for fellowship, the excitement of competition, and the spectacle of innovative rituals.

But the intelligentsia is not solely, or even mainly, to blame. The larger failure is due to political circumstances over which they have had little control. The past governments failed to create an environment of possibility that fosters camaraderie, rewards innovative ideas and encourages resilience. Babaginda,Obasanjo, Yaradua, Jonathan, and Buhari embraced orthodox ideas and therefore failed to offer many opportunities for drawing outside the line.

No..don't mention Innoson Motors,I believe all they do is assembling machines produced by others,someone should prove me wrong though.

Knowing well that Buhari will not embody innovation at Walter’s level let’s begin to dream big and make tractors, cars, and planes, or, like Walter said, forever remain inferior.

A fundamental transformation of our country from what is essentially non-innovative to a strategic superior African country requires a bold risk-taking educated leader with a triumphalist attitude and no human being on earth have such qualifications. Don’t be highly strung and feel insulted by Walter. Take a moment and think about our country. The so-called journey from 1960 has been marked by tears. It has been an emotionally overwhelming experience. Each one of us has lost a loved one to poverty, hunger, and disease. The number of graves is catching up with the population. It’s time to look out to a supreme being for help cos nobody else, not even you reading this can rule or govern humans well.

It's time for a sober reflection human politics can't & won't help matters all over the world.

~Chocoberry~

http://navicorp.com.ng/intellectual-african-idiot/

Lalasticlala

bigfrancis21

Fulaman198

odumch

Mynd44

OAM4J

Seun Osewa

Really enjoyed every piece of this

I was about to cry, then I realized am a Political Science graduate with lots of Historical experience in our Political hemispheres! I`ve admitted it long time, we`re doomed in this marriage of inconveniency called Nigeria! The Political leaders are living in affluence but are in league with "riff raff of New York!"

mikezuruki:


Really enjoyed every piece of this

Alright that's good to know.

JAkpayen:
This shows that our education system is only good at producing educated fools with nothing in their minds

Lol..yea you are right to some an extent..
Only If the supermoderators,can take this to the front page so that Nigerians can see.

Okikiade:
I was about to cry, then I realized am a Political Science graduate with lots of Historical experience in our Political hemispheres! I`ve admitted it long time, we`re doomed in this marriage of inconveniency called Nigeria! The Political leaders are living in affluence but are in league with "riff raff of New York!"

Lol..the truth sometimes is hard to admit.

This is a very good piece. It's as truth as light.
We need an reorientation. We need to do exactly what the Asians have done. If it's to start from imitation of the products of the white, so we'll have the technical know-how to start producing on our own.

Most importantly, we need a leader with the right mindset to move this nation forward.

Cc: Lalasticlala

It is sad that the black man still blames the whites for all his woes even several decades after slavery.

The beginning of failure is when we sit down and blame others for our refusal to stand up.

What are you looking for?

BTW Harry do I have your permission to share I will include the link to your site.

Wen u have d likes of Buhari governing d likes of Dangote, Adenuga or Soyinka...u see hw deeply fuccked up d situation is...

Guy u plagiarized this story.......the original story was about an eastern Africa country

Religion caused it.

kurupt1:
Guy u plagiarized this story.......the original story was about an eastern Africa country

the original story is about Zambia

trekkie:
First Harrychocoberry I am miffed that you did not mention my handle so I would have read this sooner.

Secondly I am glad you did not mention me cos after reading, I feel like I have just been through open heart surgery without anaesthesia.

This has been my sentiment all these years. I worked in a multinational and one day a door.... Yes a door fa! Got spoilt and all the technicians (Nigerian) could not fix it until one German came and I asked why? No one had an answer. I asked a civil engineering grad if he could now build bridges and he said "ah, nooo, the "secret" of bridge is with the onyibo" I wanted to weep. Who built the first bridge? How did they figure it out? If you haven't read this book Harry please please pick it UPWHATS WRONG WITH BEING BLACK? by Mathew ashimilowo. Forget that it was written by a pastor and obviously has reference to the Christian faith. I was not able to finish it I was shaking so bad. It has the same effect as watching roots.
I want to say more but...... I just taya. *sigh*

It's the life we live in Bro,our inferiority complex still plays a hard one on us.
Imagine what that civil engineering graduate just told you," Na Oyibo hold the secret" that's too bad.
He should atleast say something else,the secret the Oyibo own never came to him from the moms belly.

I will hopefully check out the book you told me about bro.

trekkie:
BTW Harry do I have your permission to share I will include the link to your site.

Yea..you might share the story with the link..it's the first place this Article appeared with a Nigerian touch.

It's a friend's blog not mine though.

kurupt1:
Guy u plagiarized this story.......the original story was about an eastern Africa country

Plagiarized?? Hope you know the meaning of what you are saying.
Cos this is the only content of this article with a trace of suiting the Nigerian audience I know of.

Please if this have appeared in other people's blog,apart from the one quoted above,pls let me know. Am interested.

But please,don't bring in the case of RUWE cos is of no use,it's a sold article with a time frame to him.

Modified:
You're going to be paid also for that

codemaniacs:


the original story is about Zambia

Hahahaha... Original story,Zambia?
I hope is not from this sites you are backing your claim
http://imzansi.co.za/lazy-africans-opinion/
_Zambia
http://greatcoastosafrica.com
_Libya

Cos if it is,then,you've got it all wrong.
This article is a real one that happened to two media practitioners from Nigeria, who are African writers ,for a media hub of content developers.
(I.e..the company develop real life experience and share it within the group of African writers in the hub to suit their native base)

For the short span..the Nigerians are not bound to claim credit due to Brand reasons.


I don't need to spill more than i have done already,for security and privacy reasons brother.

Modified :
Please if atall you've seen this article apart from the 3 links or site,already stated,
Please get back to me.
You're going to be paid for that don't worry

AdiscoPele:
This is a very good piece. It's as truth as light.
We need an reorientation. We need to do exactly what the Asians have done. If it's to start from imitation of the products of the white, so we'll have the technical know-how to start producing on our own.

Most importantly, we need a leader with the right mindset to move this nation forward.

You are right my friend.
We need a re orientation

This is a natural truth. The unavoidable inferior complex has forced most Africans into buying the crap known as “Black and White”. It is very shameful watching Africans arrogating the word Black to themselves as if the word is synonymous with Africa. Africans are not only intellectually lazy, they are also sentimentally stupor.

AdiscoPele:
This is a very good piece. It's as truth as light.
We need an reorientation. We need to do exactly what the Asians have done. If it's to start from imitation of the products of the white, so we'll have the technical know-how to start producing on our own.

Most importantly, we need a leader with the right mindset to move this nation forward.

I really do not know what you meant by "we" in the above post. However if the "we" is remotely referenced to Nigeria, there is no "we" because Nigeria is fundamentally divided. Nigeria is a sludge of pretense and pretenders are very insincere.

k

codemaniacs:


keep deceiving yourself

Alright sir..suit yourself