Weeping Dave Umahi is pointing everywhere but himself for his current political woes. In your blind ambition, you dumped PDP that took you from the cradle to the top.
You overdid everything to prove to your supposed patrons that you’re ready to abandon Ndigbo provided you’ll be rewarded. You were warned, but you thought you were smart. Now, the serpent that bit your parents have struck you with it’s tail and you’re crying.
Unfortunately, you fail to acknowledge that you’re the architect of your woes. Now, still parading your stupor, indolence and naivety, you still don’t realise where you are.
Your next project is Peter Obi. They’ve probably told you to go after him. Who knows what they must have promised him this time?
He now tells people that “Ebonyi” people will not vote Peter Obi. He probably sees Ebonyi people as some cavelike objects from the dark ages – some museum pieces or archeological finds – people out of tune with the pains of the moment – people to be led and driven like beasts to where their owners wished. What an insult?
Pray! Who will remind Umahi that before him the same Ebonyi has produced great Igbo leaders like Akanu Ibiam of yesterday and today’s Senate President, Anyim Pius Anyim and that Ogbonnaya Onu, the only Igbo hero at the APC convention who boldly and courageously reminded the rest what colour justice is made, is an Ebonyi?
Surely, the echoes of Onu’s bold and courageous message, still reverberates across the firmament more than Umahi’s insipid sound as he writhes and whimpers in self-inflicted pains.
Who will tell Umahi that what he boasts of today, he cannot achieve? Who will tell him that on this particular road, he’s alone. Who will tell him his battle against Obi is akin to Saul going after David and that the end will be disastrous? After all has he not heard from his elders that ochu okuko nwe ada?
Caveat! Whoever that undertakes that mission to talk Umahi out of his current stupor must be careful because this is the most dangerous moment to be around him.
Those around him right now are cheerleaders who tell him that he’s the greatest man alive – words that he must be relishing so much, and probably the only balm to his inflamed ego.
It might not do to go close to him at this time with a contrary message. Lest he strikes like a wounded snake.
But, if for the love of a distressed brother one needs to help, one must be kitted with the right armour and breastplate to avoid danger the obvious danger. Or better still, leave him alone to his fate. Perhaps he might heal. He just might!