Our March of Solidarity

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Sometimes expressions on faces scream louder than 10, 000 words.

OUR MARCH OF SOLIDARITY

I am a witness of this.

It can be amusing, and at the same time unnerving.

The carriers of these faces strode in a distinctive manner yesterday at Aba.

Their enthusiasm.

Their determination.

Their serenity.

At first glance, an innocent mind would immediately assume they were mourning a loved one.

If you assumed this, you are “almost” not wrong.

The city has been saved from a catastrophe that would have placed them in slavery for 4 years.

As a lover of democracy and freedom, I joined the movement.

So we marched.

We marched and sang songs of victory.

We marched, in joy for our children who wouldn’t be denied the dividend of democracy like access to good education for four years.

We marched, in joy for our young men and women who wouldn’t be denied access to government funding for their businesses in four years.

We marched, for our old men and women who wouldn’t be denied a voice to speak for them at important occasions.

The city felt our palpitation.

Commuters halted to look.

By-traders sang our songs with so much rhythm and cadence.

Craftsmen cheered us on.

Our already charged bravery and gallantry tripled. Our voices rose higher. Our steps quicker.

It was infectious.

We held our banner high, with all sense of pride, dignity and elegance.

As we trudged into Aba Town Hall, we met startling shindig.

Then the ample reality dawned on discerning minds. This was beyond our green-white-red umbrella extravaganza.

There was more, and inscription cannot eloquently articulate it.

Such atmosphere brought back the memories of the day the legendary Nelson Mandela walked out the front gate of the Victor Verster Prison in suburban Cape Town on the sun-splashed afternoon of February 11, 1990.

The soothing image of Black South Africans exploding with joy.

A raucous crowd of some 100,000 blacks squeezed into the Grand Parade grounds outside Cape Town’s City Hall, infusing it with the energy of a rock concert.

The image of him facing a sea of frenzied supporters from the balcony.

But on that summer’s day in 1990, South Africa entered a new era, and Nelson Mandela was the man who led the way.

Aba has entered a new era with the emergence of Hon. Chimaobi Ebisike.

Never will our land be taken by plunderers who take up the form of innocuous and benign forms to allure and beguile our people.

We have arisen, never to ebb in respite.

We have arisen, never to succumb to gimmicks and hoaxes.

We have arisen, never to open our doors to deception, fraud and brotherly betrayal.

Aba is not, and will never be the land of those who take pride in talismanism.

As seen on the held poster below, our message is evident and precise.

Our lands are forever shut to the unholy association of the broom carriers because sadly, the carriers themselves needs vacuuming.

By Aaron Elekwachi.

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