An Open Letter to Every Nigerian Who Still Has a Soul Left to Save
Aare Amerijoye DOT.B.
My fellow Nigerians
This is not a letter.
This is a DETONATION.
A trumpet blast from the valley of broken bones. A national exorcism soaked in blood-truth. A last-gasp scream wrung from the crushed ribs of our collective dreams and the fractured spine of our stolen economy.
They came with brooms. They swept away our jobs. They swept away our savings. They swept away our futures. And when the sweeping was done, they stood on the rubble, raised their fists, and called it governance.
We do not call it governance.
We call it ECONOMIC TERRORISM IN AGBADA.
When the wicked rule, the people groan. — Proverbs 29:2
Nigeria has never groaned louder than today.
A PILGRIMAGE THROUGH NIGERIA’S OPEN WOUNDS
Let me take you by the hand and show you what APC has actually built. Not power. Not prosperity. This is a guided tour of the ruins they call a country.
KEBBI: Mallam Musa, Rice Farmer.He once watched his rice fields ripple gold in the harmattan breeze. Today he watches them dry up like an abandoned graveyard. His future was not lost. It was torched. Deliberately. By APC’s economic arson.
ONDO: Iya Modupe, Pepper Trader.She was a queen of commerce. APC’s catastrophic inflation has reduced her throne to an empty tray and her empire to a shrine of past glory. She sits before it daily. A monument to what could have been.
ANAMBRA: Chief Okafor, Transport Boss.His fleet of trucks once ruled the Southeast like rolling thunder. Today they collect rust and shame. Diesel prices have ascended to the altitude of human sacrifice. His business does not breathe. APC strangled it.
BAUCHI: Hajiya Asabe, Poultry Queen.She did not lose her chickens to bird flu. She lost them to the APC Plague of Economic Death, where chicken feed costs more than imported electronics. Every empty pen is an accusation.
LAGOS: Baba Emeka, Artisan Welder.They call it the Centre of Excellence. It has become the Headquarters of Hardship. Generator fuel now requires a bank loan and divine intervention. The Centre of Excellence has gone dark. APC handed out candles at campaign rallies.
KATSINA: Mama Zainab, Roadside Seller.From the home state of the last APC emperor, the state that should have been most protected, comes this woman. She once sold sugarcane. Now she sells tears. The APC tsunami left her with nothing but the memory of yesterday.
PLATEAU: Baba Pam, Retired Miner.His pension was devoured by hyenas in agbada, men whose stolen billions could fund a nation’s dignity ten times over. He begs at junctions now. His humiliation is APC’s most honest achievement.
ABIA: Madam Nkechi, Fabric Seller.Even in Ariaria Market, where commerce is a religion and hustle a birthright, APC has broken the altar. Madam Nkechi no longer sells fabric. She sells old memories and faded hope. The market does not lie. APC has pauperised a nation.
APC HAS TRANSFORMED NIGERIA INTO A NATIONAL MORTUARY WHERE BUSINESSES DIE WITHOUT FUNERAL RITES AND HOPE IS EMBALMED BEFORE BIRTH.
THE VERDICT OF SCRIPTURE AND HISTORY
Woe to those who make unjust laws, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed. — Isaiah 10:1-2
APC legalised hunger. They institutionalised suffering. They are not leaders. They are licensed oppressors with government letterheads.
Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. — Matthew 7:15
APC came bearing brooms. Instead they swept away jobs, dignity and futures. All that remained was a landfill of misery over which they raise their fists in victory.
The price good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men. — Plato
Nigerians dozed. APC crept in. Now we are governed by professional looters with PhDs in propaganda and diplomas in deception.
Frantz Fanon thundered: “Each generation must discover its mission, fulfill it, or betray it.”
Our mission is SCREAMING at us from every empty market stall, every rusted truck, every farmer who plants prayers instead of seeds.
Our mission is to EVICT APC before they bury Nigeria alongside our unborn children.
My Igbo friend would say: Nwata kwuo aka, osoro okenye rie nri. When a child washes his hands, he earns his seat at the elders’ table. APC’s children drag filthy, blood-soaked hands across the national treasury and demand applause for the stains.
My Hausa/Fulani friend would say: Idan rafi ya kusa karewa, kifi kan gano. When the river is drying, even the fish knows. Only a fool sees the cracking riverbed and prays for more sun.
2027: THIS IS NOT AN ELECTION. THIS IS A RESCUE OPERATION.
2027 is not a campaign season. It is a siege being lifted. It is CPR on a patient bleeding for years while his doctors argue about per diem allowances.
2027 IS NIGERIA’S FINAL WINDOW. MISS IT AND WE MAY NOT GET ANOTHER.
The African Democratic Congress is not asking for votes. ADC is asking Nigerians to reclaim their country. Four pillars APC demolished: a productive economy that employs rather than starves; security that protects markets instead of emptying them; an agricultural revolution that gives farmers fertiliser instead of prayers; and a government that treats the treasury as a sacred trust, not a private inheritance.
ADC is not the destination. The Nigerian people are the destination. ADC is the vehicle. In 2027, the people must take the wheel, because the current driver is steering this nation off a cliff and charging us fuel money for the journey.
The choice is not between parties. It is between a nation that breathes and one that suffocates. Between a Mallam Musa who plants rice and one who plants prayers. Between a Mama Zainab who sells sugarcane and one who sells tears. Between a Nigeria that rises and one that is finally, irreversibly, buried.
2027 is not a ballot. It is a resurrection. Cast your vote like a person who refuses to die.
PRAYER OF NATIONAL DELIVERANCE
In this sacred season of Lent, when the faithful fast, pray and strip themselves bare before God, let every Nigerian soul kneel, not merely in devotion, but in holy rage. For there is a fast more urgent than abstaining from food. It is the fast from silence. It is the fast from fear. It is the fast from the cowardice of watching your nation be buried while you pray politely.
Heavenly Father, God of the poor, the farmer, the trader, the artisan,we come as children of a wounded land,
with callused hands, hollow stomachs
and tears earned through years of broken promises.
Deliver us from leaders who worship power but despise the people.Deliver us from governors who govern like warlords and budget like thieves.Deliver us from legislators who vote poverty into law and call it service.Deliver us from presidents who preside over funerals and call it administration.
Let 2027 be our Exodus. Our Red Sea moment.Our departure from the Pharaohs of APC.
Collapse every tower of deception. Expose every thief in agbada.Silence every tongue paid to lie to the poor.
Raise us leaders with the conscience of Moses,the wisdom of Solomon, the courage of Esther,and the righteous fury of Elijah on Mount Carmel.
May Allah Raise us a generation that will not be bought, will not be broken,and will not bow to the altar of political cowardice.
May the God who parted the Red Sea
now part the ocean of corruption drowning this nation
and let Nigeria walk through on dry ground
into the abundance she was always destined to carry.
In Jesus’ Name, and by the will of a people who will not be buried.
AMEN.
Aare Amerijoye DOT.B.
Voice of the People | ADC 2027
Director General
The Narrative Force
REGISTER. MOBILISE. VOTE ADC. HISTORY IS WATCHING.
