Whose budget?

I smell conspiracy by the leadership of the Irrational Assembly to insult President Jones a Time-tested influential leader. It is not often that you insult your guess to his face even with Abati-style of sarcasm. From all indications and to quote Bash Ali, wahala dey o. The General President of the Sinnate told President Jones that the red chamber would be watching the global price of crude. If the dial moves a notch up, as it is bound to do, they will not treat the budget as a Holy Book. With the tunes coming in from Syria and Turkey; the vibes radiating from Iran’s centrifuges and the tremor from America’s elections; the pendulum of oil price is bound to run faster than a liar’s ceiling fan.

The Speaker of Rebels put the icing of insult on the cake by complaining loudly about irrelevant resolutions. If the people had been represented, perhaps they would have complained about disobedience of court injunctions not favourable to government. Thank God, they were not there. President Jones took it all in style and even obtained a certified true copy of the insults. A good guest does not insult his hosts on their home ground – not if he has a bullish Alsatian and a pack of Chihuahuas.

Once back in the safety of the Rock, the Alsatian responded, sinking his poisoned fangs on the veins of their complaints. The Assembly has unleashed its own pack of  Bulldogs and Rottweilers. The back and forth hooting and barking prevents the rest of us from concentrating on the meat on the table. We all know that Madam Coordinator has the forks and the knife but that the Assembly decides which chunk goes to who. To us, the people, belongs the bones.

So, the Assembly is not a robot! Robots have not developed to the sophistry of sinnators and rebels. Who does not know that robots do not develop rotund bellies? Robots, like attack dogs, are loyal. Rent or buy them, and they serve you. These ones come begging for our votes but we beg them to serve us. We select and elect them to serve us, but they fix their own salaries first, and garnish their pay with chunky allowances, then put wedges between us and them the moment they reach the Dome.  These guys are no Naija Asimo, they are gargoyles who drink up the waters at the base and even eat up the fountain.

We know that when all the dust has settled, they will never cut back their own allowances for any reason. We know how they perform like Naija’s Olympic Team when it comes to passing laws that can fundamentally change our lives are faster than Usain Bolt when it comes to budgets where they are involved. Whenever the howling stops and the dogs have been put back on their leashes, this budget will pass. What would not fundamentally change is the air we breathe – putrified by the foul smell of unemployment, insecurity, low productivity; lack of vision, mission and direction and lots of shadow boxing. One nocturnal meeting with the Fix It guys at Wadata Plaza with oaths taken on the books of greed, avarice and corruption, this budget will pass even faster.

So, all said and done, whose budget is this? Is it a budget of redemption or a budget of perpetuation of poverty, penury, bigotry, ethno-religious ego-tripping – we would not know until Madam Coordinator breaks it apart. One thing is certain, those whose houses have been immersed in water will see the big votes but no home to lay their heads; the roads will record even bigger votes but people would still die in them and the rejects of Europe and America, the coffins we drive around would see us spending more days at the mechanic shop than on the roads. Who does not know that a budget that puts security above jobs may be fair to those who proposed it, it is unfair to 90% of Naija people, hungry folks who wait and watch mother eagle hunt and swallow the food rather than feed its young. This budget, like the others before it, is a mere horse on paper, it cannot run. It is dead on arrival.