Give our politicians their due, they deserve credit
for their ability to spot thugs from unimaginable distance. As for us, common mortals, how can we tell anyone apart until we started seeing the unruly crowd
of protesters, the burning of monuments and the looting of unsecured
malls? The deep calls to the deep. The politicians have an edge over we bystanders: they are thugs themselves, albeit of a higher,
refined specie!
No one can grasp enough of how a product functions better
than the one who produced it! Are the rogues prone to
recalcitrant and violent behaviour? Go through the
manufacturer's manual. Ask those in political leadership!
If you think the
so-called thugs are those scruffy, weed smoking drop outs
you see hanging around the street corners, your picture is incomplete. Beyond the visible ruffians, there are well
spoken, ivy-league educated senior thugs in glittering bespoke suits. These are
the ones that are adept at manipulating figures, helping those entrusted with
power to do the unthinkable and covering their tracks to the bargain! The more
you look, the less you see. Both categories
of thugs, the lout and the polished, often naively provide the opportunistic politician the pedestal
on which he ascends to power.
No baby is born a thug. Male or female, white or black,
whether born in mansion or in manger, every child has a fresh start in
life. Notwithstanding the womb that
beget him – be it that of an addict or a teetotaller, he is deemed clean and
sinless on arrival. No wonder the Lord
said in Matt 19: 14 “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder
them, for of such is the kingdom of heaven”
Sadly, the story of the thug is a sorry one. It’s the story of multiple daddies and an unfortunate surrogate mamma. Prominent In his DNA are the genes of CORRUPT
LEADERSHIP. Greedy and conscienceless rogues, all across the departments of
government at various levels, united in their rapacious appropriation of the citizen’s
commonwealth . People die needlessly of common ailment while
the funds meant for healthcare is buried in an underground stowage at home and
Swiss accounts ashore. With his children educated in the most expensive institutions
and living a lifestyle of stupendous waste, the exalted soft spoken public servant puts the
indigent in schools that give them all but quality learning.
Discernible in the thug’s DNA is SYSTEMIC INJUSTICE. He is repeatedly assaulted with none to turn
to but the unseen divine intercessors he learnt about in Sunday School. His aggressors
are let loose time and again, a vindictive smile on their faces. His pal is jailed for stealing a pack of candies while
those who manipulated figures in millions are left with a slap on the wrist.
The DRUG PEDDLER and the illicit Arms dealer made
equal deposits towards his formation. The organised rings are impenetrable, led
surreptitiously by the highest-level of law enforcers turned law breakers.
For his nurture, the thug owes the most gratitude to
an absentee father and a suffocating environment that kept his mum slavishly engaged
in round the clock quest for survival. Nor can the community exempt itself. Not known to look out for each other, neighbours
peep nonchalantly behind curtained windows as an innocent and adorable lad begins
to show early signs of frustration and grief.
The THUG is condemned to live a life in the shadows.
Subdued by forces bigger than him, he takes his lot with equanimity and watches
life pass by. Until one day! In my Yoruba we say, “O o
loogun arinya, o un je ayan”. You
gathered cockroaches for dinner, yet you have no drug for nausea. Now unhinged, the
thug explodes to your utter consternation. Why call a man an animal if you can’t stand
the fury of one?