March 13, 2010
DEAR MRS YAR’ADUA, how are you today? How is your husband, our dear President? I write to welcome you both back to our country after being away for three full months, from November 23, 2009 to February 23, 2010. I understand why you had to leave in a hurry, and why you returned in a hurry. I know for a fact that you didn’t go on a honeymoon. It must have been really tough for you, taking care of your husband in intensive care, and having to worry about his place in Nigerian history all at once. Do not despair. It is well.
DEAR MRS YAR’ADUA, how are you today? How is your husband, our dear President? I write to welcome you both back to our country after being away for three full months, from November 23, 2009 to February 23, 2010. I understand why you had to leave in a hurry, and why you returned in a hurry. I know for a fact that you didn’t go on a honeymoon. It must have been really tough for you, taking care of your husband in intensive care, and having to worry about his place in Nigerian history all at once. Do not despair. It is well.
If I were to make this very private letter public, millions of Nigerians would seek to know what my relationship with you may be. And I will not hesitate to let them know that I am a proud citizen of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, and therefore I am involved. I want to see your husband well again. I didn’t like the way he was fighting to hold back his cough while delivering the last Independence Day speech. I suspected that something serious was wrong. He had lost weight quite visibly, and the stress in his soul was evident on his face. It did not come to me as a surprise, therefore, when the news broke that he had been admitted into a first-class hospital in Saudi Arabia, the King Faisal Hospital, no less.
As the king of my domain, in my own right, I began to say my prayers for him. Like most Nigerians, I was overjoyed to know that he returned within the 93-day bracket allowed by the Constitution, even though I was bothered that he practically sneaked into the country at an unholy hour. I do have my reservations about his unceremonious conduct in that regard. But then, the Yar’Adua I know would not have done that, if he had his way. The man I know loves his country. Left to him alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to come before the Nigerian public and formally express his regrets over his long absence. It is in his character so to do.
I have no doubt that his address to the nation would have contained a line or two about the Jos riots, and about the Abdulmuttalab drama, both of which events have brought great pain and embarrassment to Nigeria, at home and abroad. I have no doubt whatsoever that your husband would have condemned in very severe language the inhuman act of police men ordering lame and unarmed civilians to lie face down in the dust, and shooting them in cold blood. Where did those hounds get the nerve to do that, to take the life of another, at the pull of a trigger? What do they know about breath and its manufacturer? What do they know about creation? Doesn’t Commandment Number Five mean anything to them? Well, we shall soon find out.
As I was saying, the Yar’Adua I know is a peaceful man and a peace maker. I have no doubt that he would have had some wonderful words of commendation for the Acting President. Indeed I was glad to read the strap line to the news of the day, hailing Dr Goodluck Jonathan for holding the forte in the extended absence of your husband, and expressing the gratitude of the Yar’Adua family to all Nigerians for our prayers. That is how it should be.
I will not go into the political gymnastics of what should be done, according to the Constitution, and what should not be done, according to the National Assembly. Time will tell. It is gratifying to know that the political stability we have been hankering after has come to stay, now that the President is back. There is a sense of psychological balance, just knowing that he is within our borders, even though we are yet to see him in public.
As the wife of Mr President, I fully understand your anxiety. No President of our nation has set such a precedent, and no President anywhere in history has been known to have set such a precedent. To be away for all of three months, without formal leave of absence and without putting your running mate firmly in charge, is to risk losing the office entirely. Frankly, I was worried on your behalf when I heard that you were making overtures at being President, acting in the shadows. But I am glad that it has been brought home to you that we voted for your husband and Dr Goodluck Jonathan, not their wives.
No matter how much influence you may wield with your husband, therefore, it will do your soul a world of good if you stay out of this matter. Do not even try to persuade anybody, other than Jonathan, to take the place of your husband. We have a sovereign Constitution which clearly defines this. Be notified that God is working out something for all of Nigeria, rather than a few Nigerians in high places, and you should be grateful about that, if you truly love your country. But that is not why I am writing you this very personal letter.
I am writing to you because I want your husband to get back on his feet, and begin to recover fast. I am writing because I feel duty-bound to disprove the prognosis of those American experts who said that your husband has only one month to live. I am writing because I read somewhere that you have decided to contract T. B. Joshua to work a miracle in your household. Indeed I am writing because one of your younger spokesmen gave an interview to Al-Jazeera, to the effect that he met your husband drinking tea. That information is enough for me to work with. It is good to know that your husband is kicking, so to speak. If he were not, I would say let the dead bury the dead. As things stand, it would be a good thing for Alhaji Umar Musa Yar’Adua to live in the land of the living, and declare the goodness of God.
Now, take absolute care to read what is left of this letter. I shall do well to make every complication easy to understand. Verily, verily, I shall make every crooked path straight. So help me, God. Amen. It is possible that your husband may not have read a nine-page epistle addressed to him in the New Year Day edition of a popular Bayelsa tabloid, WWW, short for worldwideweb. On the cover of the paper is the unmistakable face of Jesus Christ, and one of the key revelations of that exclusive worldwide edition is a loud proclamation to the effect that a cure has been discovered for the most dreaded disease that has afflicted mankind so far. Dated November 12-December 12, 2008, the script formally notifies the President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria that the cure for HIV/AIDS is not in American laboratories, nor British test tubes, nor Saudi clinics. The cure resides in every piece of Adam created in the image of God. Your husband is a typical piece of Adam, and therefore the solution to his problem lies with him.
In case your husband missed the sermon under reference, I am glad to let you know that the proclamations of that edition of WWW have been published into a book entitled, I Want To Be A Minister. There is also an accompanying volume entitled A Drop Of Pentecost. As I write this, both books are practically making new waves in the Bayelsa State capital, Yenagoa, our New Jerusalem. It is important that you get to know why. In fact, it is urgent that you get your husband to read them as soon as possible, if he can turn the pages. Call any one you know in Glory Land, and ask them if they have seen a copy of either book. For now, at least, I will proceed forthwith to acquaint you with the urgent message contained in those pages.
Remember that this has nothing to do with your faith. This is all about getting Mr President well enough to get back to duty, since you clearly do not want Goodluck Jonathan to step into his shoes. There are pressing matters of state waiting to be resolved. Nigeria must move forward. You may or may not have time to visit Yenagoa again, and since this is an emergency, let me summarize the nutritional aspects of the book as it relates to healing your husband.
I do so on the understanding that you have been a classroom teacher in times past, just like your husband. That is well and good. I come from a family of teachers as well. That gives us something in common, wouldn’t you say? I wonder if you ever taught basic biology. Even if you didn’t teach it, you jolly well know something about the reproductive organs, as they pertain to Adam and Eve. Is that right? Well, I am inclined to think that the solution to any affliction arising from these organs must lie with these same organs. In short, the cure for sexually-induced diseases lies with the sex organs themselves. I do not understand, therefore, why the world is still at a loss about the cure for the most dreaded disease, that scourge which practically eats up the health of the able-bodied man and leaves him as a shadow of himself.
Do keep an open mind, but it seems to me that you are not prepared to let Nigerians set eyes on your husband because he is a shadow of himself. It seems to me that he is suffering from much more than a heart condition. I am led to believe, in short, that your husband is suffering from what the people of Nembe call “boloi obi,” which literally means “the gecko disease.” As you know, the wall gecko is a gaunt-looking domestic lizard with a very nearly transparent body, very much like an AIDS patient. Well, then, when a man acquires the gecko disease what he needs do is to cleanse his system, virtually with his own blood. And that is what your husband needs to do right now. His system needs cleansing of the most natural kind. His body has become what Messiah calls “an old skin,” and only “new wine” can refurbish it.
In short, I advise you in earnest to be your husband’s wife. Nurse him to the point of orgasm, and when he sheds the seeds of Pentecost, do not waste them. Let him take the bitter pill. Let him swallow his own spit. Let him partake of nature’s anti-retroviral therapy. Let him drink of “the water of life,” and he shall be made whole again. If he asks you why, tell him I said so. Tell him I said this is the cup that will never pass away. As things stand, his bloodstream is overwhelmed with foreign elements. His blood cells are dying by the day, because when a cyst is built around any single cell, it takes only the grace of God to break through it, and set the captive cell free. It is time to set your husband free. Let the dead cells in his body enjoy new life. The army of fresh cells that will undertake that liberation process lies idle within him, in a pouch somewhere between his thighs, waiting to go to war on his behalf.
As his wife, you are the only one besides him who has access to that sac. Lock the door to your bedroom and get him excited, nicely, as in the days of your honeymoon. Let him release himself to you, the way Bill Clinton released himself to Monica Lewinsky. Collect the flush, and let him imbibe of it in milk and honey solution. I put it to you that positive plus positive will amount to negative. In other words, convert his waste into wealth, for an infected drop of “blood” with life in it is bound to reawaken dead blood cells and introduce fresh life into the bloodstream. Your husband will not come to any harm. Far from it. On the contrary, he will begin to experience a new lease of life.
This is the day that the Lord has made for that revelation. Rejoice and be glad in it. Let dead bones arise, that Jehovah’s name alone may be glorified forever. I am waiting to hear that your dear husband, our peace-loving President, is well again and enjoying the fruits from the vine of regeneration.
Thank you for your kind and patient attention.
Frankly yours,
Pope Pen The First
If I were to make this very private letter public, millions of Nigerians would seek to know what my relationship with you may be. And I will not hesitate to let them know that I am a proud citizen of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, and therefore I am involved. I want to see your husband well again. I didn’t like the way he was fighting to hold back his cough while delivering the last Independence Day speech. I suspected that something serious was wrong. He had lost weight quite visibly, and the stress in his soul was evident on his face. It did not come to me as a surprise, therefore, when the news broke that he had been admitted into a first-class hospital in Saudi Arabia, the King Faisal Hospital, no less.
As the king of my domain, in my own right, I began to say my prayers for him. Like most Nigerians, I was overjoyed to know that he returned within the 93-day bracket allowed by the Constitution, even though I was bothered that he practically sneaked into the country at an unholy hour. I do have my reservations about his unceremonious conduct in that regard. But then, the Yar’Adua I know would not have done that, if he had his way. The man I know loves his country. Left to him alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to come before the Nigerian public and formally express his regrets over his long absence. It is in his character so to do.
I have no doubt that his address to the nation would have contained a line or two about the Jos riots, and about the Abdulmuttalab drama, both of which events have brought great pain and embarrassment to Nigeria, at home and abroad. I have no doubt whatsoever that your husband would have condemned in very severe language the inhuman act of police men ordering lame and unarmed civilians to lie face down in the dust, and shooting them in cold blood. Where did those hounds get the nerve to do that, to take the life of another, at the pull of a trigger? What do they know about breath and its manufacturer? What do they know about creation? Doesn’t Commandment Number Five mean anything to them? Well, we shall soon find out.
As I was saying, the Yar’Adua I know is a peaceful man and a peace maker. I have no doubt that he would have had some wonderful words of commendation for the Acting President. Indeed I was glad to read the strap line to the news of the day, hailing Dr Goodluck Jonathan for holding the forte in the extended absence of your husband, and expressing the gratitude of the Yar’Adua family to all Nigerians for our prayers. That is how it should be.
I will not go into the political gymnastics of what should be done, according to the Constitution, and what should not be done, according to the National Assembly. Time will tell. It is gratifying to know that the political stability we have been hankering after has come to stay, now that the President is back. There is a sense of psychological balance, just knowing that he is within our borders, even though we are yet to see him in public.
As the wife of Mr President, I fully understand your anxiety. No President of our nation has set such a precedent, and no President anywhere in history has been known to have set such a precedent. To be away for all of three months, without formal leave of absence and without putting your running mate firmly in charge, is to risk losing the office entirely. Frankly, I was worried on your behalf when I heard that you were making overtures at being President, acting in the shadows. But I am glad that it has been brought home to you that we voted for your husband and Dr Goodluck Jonathan, not their wives.
No matter how much influence you may wield with your husband, therefore, it will do your soul a world of good if you stay out of this matter. Do not even try to persuade anybody, other than Jonathan, to take the place of your husband. We have a sovereign Constitution which clearly defines this. Be notified that God is working out something for all of Nigeria, rather than a few Nigerians in high places, and you should be grateful about that, if you truly love your country. But that is not why I am writing you this very personal letter.
I am writing to you because I want your husband to get back on his feet, and begin to recover fast. I am writing because I feel duty-bound to disprove the prognosis of those American experts who said that your husband has only one month to live. I am writing because I read somewhere that you have decided to contract T. B. Joshua to work a miracle in your household. Indeed I am writing because one of your younger spokesmen gave an interview to Al-Jazeera, to the effect that he met your husband drinking tea. That information is enough for me to work with. It is good to know that your husband is kicking, so to speak. If he were not, I would say let the dead bury the dead. As things stand, it would be a good thing for Alhaji Umar Musa Yar’Adua to live in the land of the living, and declare the goodness of God.
Now, take absolute care to read what is left of this letter. I shall do well to make every complication easy to understand. Verily, verily, I shall make every crooked path straight. So help me, God. Amen. It is possible that your husband may not have read a nine-page epistle addressed to him in the New Year Day edition of a popular Bayelsa tabloid, WWW, short for worldwideweb. On the cover of the paper is the unmistakable face of Jesus Christ, and one of the key revelations of that exclusive worldwide edition is a loud proclamation to the effect that a cure has been discovered for the most dreaded disease that has afflicted mankind so far. Dated November 12-December 12, 2008, the script formally notifies the President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria that the cure for HIV/AIDS is not in American laboratories, nor British test tubes, nor Saudi clinics. The cure resides in every piece of Adam created in the image of God. Your husband is a typical piece of Adam, and therefore the solution to his problem lies with him.
In case your husband missed the sermon under reference, I am glad to let you know that the proclamations of that edition of WWW have been published into a book entitled, I Want To Be A Minister. There is also an accompanying volume entitled A Drop Of Pentecost. As I write this, both books are practically making new waves in the Bayelsa State capital, Yenagoa, our New Jerusalem. It is important that you get to know why. In fact, it is urgent that you get your husband to read them as soon as possible, if he can turn the pages. Call any one you know in Glory Land, and ask them if they have seen a copy of either book. For now, at least, I will proceed forthwith to acquaint you with the urgent message contained in those pages.
Remember that this has nothing to do with your faith. This is all about getting Mr President well enough to get back to duty, since you clearly do not want Goodluck Jonathan to step into his shoes. There are pressing matters of state waiting to be resolved. Nigeria must move forward. You may or may not have time to visit Yenagoa again, and since this is an emergency, let me summarize the nutritional aspects of the book as it relates to healing your husband.
I do so on the understanding that you have been a classroom teacher in times past, just like your husband. That is well and good. I come from a family of teachers as well. That gives us something in common, wouldn’t you say? I wonder if you ever taught basic biology. Even if you didn’t teach it, you jolly well know something about the reproductive organs, as they pertain to Adam and Eve. Is that right? Well, I am inclined to think that the solution to any affliction arising from these organs must lie with these same organs. In short, the cure for sexually-induced diseases lies with the sex organs themselves. I do not understand, therefore, why the world is still at a loss about the cure for the most dreaded disease, that scourge which practically eats up the health of the able-bodied man and leaves him as a shadow of himself.
Do keep an open mind, but it seems to me that you are not prepared to let Nigerians set eyes on your husband because he is a shadow of himself. It seems to me that he is suffering from much more than a heart condition. I am led to believe, in short, that your husband is suffering from what the people of Nembe call “boloi obi,” which literally means “the gecko disease.” As you know, the wall gecko is a gaunt-looking domestic lizard with a very nearly transparent body, very much like an AIDS patient. Well, then, when a man acquires the gecko disease what he needs do is to cleanse his system, virtually with his own blood. And that is what your husband needs to do right now. His system needs cleansing of the most natural kind. His body has become what Messiah calls “an old skin,” and only “new wine” can refurbish it.
In short, I advise you in earnest to be your husband’s wife. Nurse him to the point of orgasm, and when he sheds the seeds of Pentecost, do not waste them. Let him take the bitter pill. Let him swallow his own spit. Let him partake of nature’s anti-retroviral therapy. Let him drink of “the water of life,” and he shall be made whole again. If he asks you why, tell him I said so. Tell him I said this is the cup that will never pass away. As things stand, his bloodstream is overwhelmed with foreign elements. His blood cells are dying by the day, because when a cyst is built around any single cell, it takes only the grace of God to break through it, and set the captive cell free. It is time to set your husband free. Let the dead cells in his body enjoy new life. The army of fresh cells that will undertake that liberation process lies idle within him, in a pouch somewhere between his thighs, waiting to go to war on his behalf.
As his wife, you are the only one besides him who has access to that sac. Lock the door to your bedroom and get him excited, nicely, as in the days of your honeymoon. Let him release himself to you, the way Bill Clinton released himself to Monica Lewinsky. Collect the flush, and let him imbibe of it in milk and honey solution. I put it to you that positive plus positive will amount to negative. In other words, convert his waste into wealth, for an infected drop of “blood” with life in it is bound to reawaken dead blood cells and introduce fresh life into the bloodstream. Your husband will not come to any harm. Far from it. On the contrary, he will begin to experience a new lease of life.
This is the day that the Lord has made for that revelation. Rejoice and be glad in it. Let dead bones arise, that Jehovah’s name alone may be glorified forever. I am waiting to hear that your dear husband, our peace-loving President, is well again and enjoying the fruits from the vine of regeneration.
Thank you for your kind and patient attention.
Frankly yours,
Pope Pen The First
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