‘Abuja’ was a superlative dream, smack in the midst of a mosaic of the African socio-cultural and political renaissance. The dream sprouted and was nourished, and it grew steadily out of the beleaguered Nigerian soil. It beckoned on all and sundry from the cardinal corners of the Nigerian geo-political firmament to feed from its bowels of abundant resources, extensive lush greenery, countless and marvelous virgin architectural sites, luscious landscapes and other natural delights.
Segun Michaels arrived from Lagos and accompanied by Olamide, his cousin, to meet Shehu, an ostensibly well-connected northern Nigerian young man who promised so much…on the heels of epidemic bank failures in the land which had rendered the young men jobless and desperate…A lowly new couple, Paulinus and Chioma, had set out from Asaba on an unlikely commercial adventure to Sokoto…a small misunderstanding between two traders in Kano city set off a tsunami of borne fires and destroction that stretched as far as Sokoto… and the young family and their earthly possessions were consumed by the inferno.
It was a season of anomie…the General Sani Abacha political machine was steaming assiduously in the horizon… stretching out a lifeline of a promising future to a browbeaten Segun and his ilks…he clutched on to the lifeline and hung on to the Zion Train of sorts…and became a formidable arrowhead of the unlikely campaign to save Nigeria from the clutches of and stranglehold of imperialist and fifth-columnist forces…
Abuja remains the dreamland for investments, tourism, productive enterprise, entertainment and leisure nonetheless; a land where aspirations are entertained and met if perseverance, doggedness, common sense and divine favour are in the basket of a man’s portfolio of efforts.
The dream land still beckons…
This is Abuja.
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