WHEN THE ELEPHANTS EAT, THE GRASS WATCHES IN SILENCE

Anthony EKPO BASSEY

It appears the wind has blown again, and this time, we have caught a glimpse of the fowl’s posterior. The Revenue Mobilisation and Fiscal Commission (RMAFC), not one to shy away from stirring the hornet’s nest, has proposed a salary increment for the president and political office holders in Nigeria. One must wonder: is this the pot calling the kettle gold-plated?

While the average Nigerian is tightening their belt, assuming they still have a belt to tighten, those in the corridors of power are fashioning silk ropes to hoist their fortunes even higher. The ink has hardly dried on fuel subsidy removal, inflation is dancing like masquerades in the marketplace, and the cost of living is climbing faster than a monkey on a palm tree. Yet, in the middle of this economic downpour, the RMAFC hands out umbrellas exclusively to the elite.

Ah, but here is the kicker! The salaries are published for all to see, all neat and tidy on paper. A transparent fig leaf, if you will. But what about the allowances? The real meat on the bone? Not a whisper. Not a murmur. It is like being shown a goat’s head in a soup pot, while the real protein swims unseen in the broth. Nigerians are told the president earns 1.5 M naira, but never mind the estacodes, the sitting allowances, hardship allowances (as if governing from an air-conditioned office is a trek through the Sahara), wardrobe allowances, entertainment allowances, and those other unnamed, unnumbered perks that flow quietly like oil from a leaking pipeline.

What a brilliant sleight of hand! Publish the shell, hide the yolk. We are left applauding shadows, while the substance sneaks out the back door. It is the classic magician’s trick, look here while the loot disappears there.

And while we are at it, lets give a round of applause for the timing. Right when hospitals are on life support, schools are begging for chalk and teachers for dignity, and the minimum wage is still trying to climb out of the pit, the lords of the realm have remembered to adjust their own wages upward. A nation of over 200 million, yet its biggest priority is the comfort of less than 1% of its population. If that isn’t putting the cart before the horse, then perhaps the cart is the horse, and we just did not get the memo.

One would think public service meant service. But here, it seems the public are the ones doing the serving. The public serve up taxes, patience, and silence on a golden platter. If governance were truly about sacrifice, then why does it always seem like the people are on the altar?

Still, we watch. We grumble in molue buses, sigh in overcrowded clinics, whisper in classrooms without windows. But say nothing too loud because the gods of allowance may be listening. Perhaps, someday, when pigs fly and hell hosts a snowstorm, we will get to see the full breakdown of what our leaders actually earn. Until then, we are left with press statements that shine like polished brass, bright, impressive, and utterly hollow.

But lets not lose heart. After all, every day is for the thief, but one day is for the owner. And if the pen is mightier than the sword, then let this ink stand as a warning: the people may be quiet, but they are not blind. When the tide turns, and it always does, those who built their castles on public tears may find that even gold sinks when the flood comes.

In the meantime, dear countrymen and women, hold your breath, not for progress, but to avoid choking on the fumes of hypocrisy.

Let those who have ears, budget accordingly.