“The political misfortune he built over time may crash like a pack of cards. For now, he is still afloat a ruthless ocean. His last drowning hands are still raised above the waves. Indeed, for Wike, ‘threat na water.”
By Okechukwu Nwafor
Wike seems to be drowning in a vast ocean of political choreography. As a sinking ship, the desperation to stay afloat is real.
Unfortunately, as a drowning man, even slapping the waters with both hands to stay alive doesn’t guarantee survival. The Ocean is merciless to a non-swimmer who dares it. Wike, the non-swimmer, dares the ocean. Now, survival is not guaranteed.
He beats the waters with desperate hands. He waves to a non-existent rescue team. He gulps doses of ocean waters. Soon, the inevitable may happen.
The political misfortune he built over time may crash like a pack of cards. For now, he is still afloat a ruthless ocean. His last drowning hands are still raised above the waves.
Indeed, for Wike, ‘threat na water.’
Who are you to challenge his imperial authority in Rivers State? He will bark you into submission like a confused bulldog. He will write a book of lamentation with your name in one single public speech.
That is not a good sign.
He will jeer at you with the mocking steps of a drunken master. He will roar at you with the crying voice of a weakened lion.
Sooner or later, when no rescue team rushes to save Wike, wickedness will find itself dwelling at the mercy of grace.
Okechukwu Nwafor
