Chapter 7: Emi lokan
Liliana sat in the staff room, head bent over her lesson plan. Around her, the chatter of teachers filled the air, but their voices had long become background noise. Her attention was fixed on her phone, TikTok, again. She was scrolling through updates: banned accounts of GehGeh and Big Sol, edits from The Originals, TVDU, and House of the Dragon.
Then she stumbled upon a video of Nara Smith, the famous TikToker, who had given birth again. Liliana dove straight to the comments section.
"Girl, catch a break."
"She be making them from scratch."
"Does she ever rest?"
"Every time I see this lady, she's pregnant again."
She paused, staring at the screen. How strange, she thought, how the world turns people's lives into their entertainment the moment fame touches them.
In the background, Ngozi was playing Ayra Starr's latest track, "Look What a Hot Body Can Do" singing along, hips swaying, her laughter warm against the lazy afternoon.
The door creaked open. The government teacher stormed in, fuming.
(In Vernacular)
"Ah-ah! This country don finish!" he shouted. "Emi lokan, emi lokan! Shebi dem give am? Now see fuel price! Even if he crash food price, the high fuel go still bring am back up. This country is going nowhere. Look at the killings! God!"
Ngozi laughed. "You never hear gas price too? That one don fly pass fuel!"
The English teacher joined in. "The same people ruling us since independence are still the same fools there, just grooming their children to take over."
The government teacher nodded bitterly. "Exactly! Nepo babies everywhere. We keep blaming foreign countries, but our problem is internal. Since independence, nothing has changed, only debt, corruption, and greed."
Liliana barely looked up. She was scrolling through another video.
Then Ngozi turned to her. "Lili, you're too quiet o. What's your take?"
The others looked at her, waiting like though she was about to pass judgment. Liliana hesitated, then shrugged. "I have nothing to contribute."
But the silence that followed was heavier than all the noise before it.
She finally spoke, voice calm but sharp.
"Jesus said, he that is without blemish should cast the first stone."
All my life, I've listened to my father, my teachers, strangers on buses, all condemning our leaders and talking about how fallen this country is. But I've never met a single person with a real solution.
We cry for change, yet every new change brings a deeper fall.
Nobody wants to take the leap of courage unless there's something to gain. Even in our daily lives, corruption breathes through us small lies, shortcuts, bribes, all the things we hate in them live quietly in us.
Still, that doesn't free our leaders of guilt. They are monsters, yes, holding power like a toy, as if Nigeria is their playground.
But one day, they'll sleep and not wake. One day, their heads will hang in front of their own offices. One day, fear will chase them through the streets.
That day might never come.
Or maybe it will when the righteous finally grow tired enough to revolt.
A day never to see."