What shall we do about our workers?

Dearest Buhari,  I like this our little letter-writing ritual. It makes me feel closer to you even though you are back now.  So romantic. I am glad that you are eating and working now.  It is such a relief to see the men who were queuing up to take over from you no longer hovering […]

Dearest Buhari, 

I like this our little letter-writing ritual. It makes me feel closer to you even though you are back now.  So romantic. I am glad that you are eating and working now. 

It is such a relief to see the men who were queuing up to take over from you no longer hovering around. I know they are still there. They are lurking in the shadows peeping to see if you are really healthy or not. They should stay where they are because my love for you darling will never die. 

So, that man who shouts like he is still a Student Union leader and brags about his many cars and fancy motorcycles, did you hear what they are saying about him? You know he came and told us that he has many degrees and all. Ashe, even the Harvard he said he went to was just a one week course that he paid plenty money to do. 

Anyone with money can pay to do those one week things where they give you a certificate of attendance. 

Then they go to the Harvard shop and buy Harvard alumni stickers and put all over their cars to impress their many side chics. Because you know they can’t use it to impress their wives – their wives who probably helped them pack for one week know very well it is just a professional development course and not a degree. 

In fact they are saying he probably graduated with a third class. My dear we both know that this doesn’t matter. You may not have gone to university but you are my leader and love. It is not by having fake Harvard alumni stickers. The real problem is that the man does not grow up. He is still the same political hustler that he was as a student union hustler. But he is not very smart. He is always the one in front fighting other people’s dirty wars. The chicken that likes to be the first to show up will likely be the first to enter the pot of soup. 

So, my dear how far? It is not that I want to annoy you, but that grass cutter is still parading by my window every morning, whistling as he washes your car, singing hymns and worship songs as if he is not a thief. I really think we should take care of this guy once and for all. Think of my nerves and peace of mind. Don’t let a thief spend so much time in our house. Like I keep saying, our other workers will think they too can steal our money in the name of cutting grass. Please darling, let us sack him and let him return to his village.  

There is this serious thing I have been meaning to talk about. You remember how the boys we sent to guard our farm in Rann went and mistakenly killed people? You know we have not visited Rann yet to apologize? And our boys who made the mistake are still driving around town like nothing happened. 

We can’t just mistakenly kill people’s children and not do something about it. Especially when we show empathy when our white neighbours get hurt. It looks one kain. Please let us look into the matter again. We are not bad people. Those boys were just careless. 

If you ask me my dear, the way the workers fight amongst themselves, I feel like if someone wants to attack us from outside it will be easy. We can’t have our own workers sabotaging our progress because they are fighting among themselves. 

Our enemies are not organised. Those of them who are not at the police station facing charges of theft are running up and down to hide the money they stole. If anyone will bring us down it will be one of these oversabi workers we have or those who want to take your place or one of our own people who have been quietly stealing under our noses. 

Darling, can I ask a favor? I know you don’t like him and all but I think he has suffered enough. The Sheikh whose children we have killed. I know he offended you by hitting your chest and all but ok, you have killed like five of his children. And he is going blind where he is locked up. I don’t think there is anything left to prove. It doesn’t look good at all. Remember when we were building our house, we visited him and all, there are even photos of that short man who pretends to like you squatting in his room looking for support. 

I know it is a difficult situation but maybe it is time to just let go. I know you are kind my darling. Let us let him go.  

Ehen, I forgot to ask, do you want one or two spoons of sugar in your fura? If you ask me, I think you should reduce sugar now that you are recovering. 

See you in the other room. 

Love,  E.