Home Stories Dear Mum and Dad, I’m Out on A Protest

Dear Mum and Dad, I’m Out on A Protest

by Aker Daniel

Story by The Eagle – Dear Mum and Dad, I’m Out on A Protest.

Yes! And that would be the plan. I wouldn’t be stopped twice, Kabiru made up his mind. He folded the letter he had just finished writing and handed it to his younger sister Aisha, who sat opposite to him at the dinner table reading a comic book. “Take this letter” Kabiru called to her attention. She slowly brought the comic book down from her sight and stared at the letter as though a turd sat on it. She was never serious.

Kabiru inattentive to her reaction continued “I’ll be going out now, give this letter to Mum and Dad. There are in the master bedroom..”

“I Know where there are. Where is it you’re going to?” She snapped immediately before Kabiru even landed.

“Worry less, I’ll be back very soon. Just make sure the letters get to them.”

Kabiru left. She then sprinted swiftly to the master’s bedroom handing the letter over to them. “Kabiru said you should both read”. She said with the letter lying on the palm of her outstretched arm.

Dad with a quizzical look on, asked “where is he?”

“Oh he just went out” she said as if trying to recall something

That gripped their attention, he collected the letter, and together with mum, they began to read.

Aisha left.

Dear Parents,

I have chosen to write rather than speak because I care heartily for your feelings. It is cosmical dear parents, what “truth” does to every human that lives. When it stands for us we are free and we speak loud of it. When it speaks against us, we are dazzled and it is definitely not an easy feeling to endure. But as long as a man lives, he will be confronted with moments when the truth will speak for or against him. How we react when the truth speaks against us should be the universal measure for maturity.

Imagine been slapped ten times on your cheeks at a stretch. That feeling, that exact feeling of terror is a relative impact of what truth does sometimes to our carnality. Fortunately enough, we need such truth because they stand as a prerequisite for our intellectual growth.

For today, at this precious moment, I am a conveyor of this truth, that is why I made a resolve of writing, so there would be an extension for cogitation after reading, because if I had chosen to vocalize these truths before your very presence, there would be a towering probably that it would be deftly misapprehended as a confrontation conceived from bigotry. I therefore plead you wear the garment of understanding as you read and allow modest reflection to take lead.

So here is the truth;

“I am out on a peaceful protest, I have decided to start speaking up! The direct opposite of how you lived – silence.”

I love you dear parents, and loving you is such a fundamental truth that outweighs any other. In the hands of the creator with the liberty of choice, I would still choose you a million times.

All my life as a child to this very age of juvenility to which I write. You have shielded me from the inebriation of a failed government. They exhibited complete ineptitude to the basic amenities they were to make available for their citizens. The resources of the State they were voted in to wield were and are avariciously dissipated.

The electricity they failed to make available, you suplimented with a generator. To avoid the befuddlement of the irregular water board supply system flow, you dug a Well. To the deplorable state of the public schools you took me instead to private primary and high school. All these things you were able to provide. There wasn’t a reason to speak anymore, you lost the urge to hold the leaders accountable. You simply ignored them.

Our currency had Value in your time, making things relatively cheap. But now my dear parent can we say that? Aren’t things becoming worse? This silence isn’t working anymore. I have decided to start speaking up, to drop the phones, pick up the placards and fall to the street, it is time a to act!

For some years now, daddy have not been receiving his pension entitlements, for a State he served with all the dew of his youthful energy. And now old Dad is frail, his muscles have lost those juvenile vigor it once compassed, now he sits to the couch lamenting the whole day in regret. If only Dad had known, if only him and his generation spoke up when they still had the strength to, things would have been alot better. Now mum you alone carry the burden of this family on your shoulders, how do you feel? How comfortable do you sleep at night? Do you wish i repeat the same story? This tragedy is not peculiar to us alone. Let’s work down the street, seven out of ten families suffers this plight.

In your time dear parents, when the country was still coming up of age, there were a vast pool of job opportunities, you only needed to be educated. But look at Masmood, your first child, my senior brother, a graduate in search of menial handwork to learn. The frustration that hovers around him at the end of each day of search is painstakingly palpable. Would you say Masmood wasn’t intelligent enough? Wasn’t his result an epitome of excellence? What sort of country remunerate it’s patriotic citizens with such a queer treatment.

“No be by certificate o”, “Na by who Sabi who”, “No be wetin you study you go practice”, “Na by your pocket o”. Aren’t these the random cliché you hear everywhere? Sadly enough it holds depths to the reality of this country. Is everybody not casting and binding? How come these nefarious actions still root as a norm in our society? Aren’t we liberal citizens anymore? It is time to speak up! Please forget that “E go better” talks, it’s time for the “we deserve better talks”. Masmood and the rest deserve a better life.

Mummy remember when I told you about Racheal, that coursemate of mine gracefully blessed with beauty that waters the mouth. How unintelligent I misjudged her to be, her devastating grades she had in our second year of study, I never knew the story behind. How a lecturer deliberately undermine the grades because she was uncompromising in the practice of true virtues. I remember that day mum, that very day to which she sat beside me with a torrent of tears running down her cheeks, when she conceded to me that she finally gave in. She slept with that man old enough to be her guardian, she slept with a man she had no atom of affection for. Mummy remember Racheal is a daughter to a mother as you, a woman as you are. I was helpless when I heard her confession, seeking justice in a corrupt system will only misfire back at you. We embraced silence and the pain got a chair, sat and felt comfortable in our heart, scars she will carry forever!

“If you don’t give them that 20naira, there would just frustrate and waste your time on this road” these were the exact words of Daddy’s reply at Childhood when I asked him why he always gave funds to police officers at check points. But now dear parents it’s not even 20naira Anymore, it formerly increased to 50 then 100 and now 200naira. Atleast that alone would have been bearable. Now police brutality and death tarry at every nook and cranny for a well-looking youth or an entertainer. They would request for your phone, check your transactions and demand any amount of money based on what they’ve seen and any atom of defiance you exhibit could be the end of your existence. Dear parent, things are not the same anymore.

Dear Mum, dear Dad. I know your fear, the fear of death. The fear that I would be out on a protest and never return. The fear that had justified your silence the whole while. But what good has this fear brought to the table? Yeah, yeah, yeah I know there are plans laid out for me to leave the Country immediately after studies, infact I hear alot of that from youths these days too, everybody wants to run. Nigerian youths have suddenly become potentially predecessors of Usain Bolt.

Well If I can run, how about the million others who wouldn’t be able. Do I live for me alone? Wherever it is I’ll be running to in search for a safer asylum, were there a perfect Country by silence or there stood up to work for it? Can’t we make our territory a place for others to run to? Aren’t you aware of the discrimination and reduced priviledges that awaits me in a foreign land? I want my children to travel the World, but on the basis of freewill and tourism and that prize we are all called to pay not run away from. Dear parents, this is a generation ready for such a battle!

There comes a time in every man’s life when he stands to scream those “enough is enough!” Words, and until you know the story behind it, don’t judge him. We have seen too much, endured too much, and now it’s the time when we take on our rightful place! We are a generation who is ready. You witness the military regime dear parents, and whether or not it affected your orientation towards governance I can’t be sure. But this generation believe in democracy, not dictators. Times are becoming critical for one to walk around haboring the fear of death. It is high time we confront the reality of our mortality in order to obliterate this fear and the silence it ensues.

Dear parents, the least person am doing this for is myself. This is a battle for the million of those displaced people who can’t speak nor fend for themselves. People like Dad, Masmood, Racheal, for our children and children’s children. Isn’t it what Christianity is all about? The giving up of one’s self for another. What greater gift can a man offer to humanity? The gift of life Jesus offered, his apostles likewise. These are the mentors of our faith.

Dear parents, am out on a “peaceful” protest and at the same time I am wholeheartedly ready for whatever life throws at me. I plead you conserve tranquility. I suggest you pray, so to achieve the paradox of faith and works

This is the generation I hail from, this very generation. A generation birth to speak!

Yours Loving

Kabiru, your son.


After they had both read, silence fidgeted all through the room

Not a word said after reading. Not a word when Kabiru returned home.

A mind made is a mind made. Theirs was to pray.

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