In life there are the stories that everyone hears about. The ones that are featured on Tv stations and everyone hears about… the one that people talk about; not because whatever it was was done to them personally but just the fact that it was done. Good or bad that doesn’t really matter a story is a story.
The thing with stories is that everyone has that little bit of salt and pepper that they add to make it just that little more finger lickin’ good. Like Bola Ahmed Tinunbu that spent how many millions because he managed to become one year older. So those that buy cake and blow candle are now the poor and stupid, right? And that’s his story- a wasteful chap with more money than brains. Of course there might be other tales of people he might be helping out or so, but no one told me that story now did they?
Anyhow… my school is in that pot. Not really my school per say… the Chancellor, Bishop and human representative owner of the Faith Tabernacle/ winners Chapel and a whole load of other things that makes him one of the richest in some Forbes list or the other. All I hear is how can a pastor own so much? Four air crafts for one man? This and that? Because Nigerians are a natural Bad-belle (envious) people I’ve rarely bothered myself in rising to his defence especially when I heard he told some guy that came to tell him what some gist that: “don’t you have a life? Or should I go buy one for you from the market?” (not exact phrase). A couple of weeks ago, there was something held at my school a love feast it was called. Kids were invited to a party in my school… less-priviledged kids. There was food and drinks and drawing of party faces and bouncy castles and I saw little paper-bags of fun being shared around… Buses brought most of the kids and took them back.
Did it make the papers? No.
Did it even feature on that dead NTA network? No.
But those kids will remember. All people have to say when they hear Covenant is expensive fees, affluent parents, school for the rich, spoilt kids… and they’ll be just a little bit right. A couple of days ago, a friend and I were talking about the fees that the workers in the school earn and I remember one day I actually thought that with the amount of things that these people see we waste and spend, what’s stopping them from laying siege on the school one day, kidnapping us and placing us on hostage you know… I mean, when push comes to shove we behave like some kind spoilt asses. But when the school forces us to go for community development in the area, you don’t see that anywhere now do you?
I remember one Lady Gaga’s thingie too. I don’t like her. Not for Jack or Jill or all the toblerone I can eat, but then her fans were outside waiting for her to sing or go crazy or do whatever keeps the gaga flag flying. They were there for hours. Then she bought them pizza. Each of them either had a box or a slice. I donno the exact so I’ll not exaggerate. There’s my dad. Kinda. He got a sewing machine for one beggar in the area, got systems for one centre at his office place… pays for some of his workers exams and stuff…
I really think the real things that count and matter and change lives don’t always have to make head-line news. Not every one has to talk about it either but the people who it matters to will never forget how you bailed them out one way or the other. What’s your untold story?