Last updated on October 27th, 2015 at 09:03 am
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Pointing has always been an invaluable skill/gift whichever way you may have it. If you disbelieve, check your Quran, bible or ask your Ifa/Agbala as it applies to you.
Amean, having the power or the skill isn’t enough. After digesting this rant, you should never wonder anymore why footballers point in celebration at nothing in particular when they score/win or why your district Pastor keeps pointing when delivering his usual kini. Jesus pointed, remember? But that’s not all.
I was not there when Mungo Park parked at the source of the Niger and realized his own ‘American Dream’. But I have an intelligent guess, He must have pointed. I know He did point at the first few slaves He took over there with him because (take good note of the following) my fore ancestors were among them. How do I know this? I feel a stirring in my breast whenever I relive the epic moment; in my dreams of course.
It’s sad to say this art is fading into unpopularity. It’s tragic, to put it properly. Like how Adam ate the apple and put an end to global nudism. Tragic, man… I tells* you.
Pointing has varying significance in different milieus. Like in the US, its significance hasn’t been totally eroded. It is still a very invaluable tool for snitches et al. I’ve never been to the US but I tell you, snitches point a lot. I know this cuz I see this in the movies all the time.
Now, to Nigeria where the art has suffered the most, *insert wails and hot tears here*pointing has suffered great ignominy. Amean, back then after Mr. Mungo left, pointing became a divine tool. You could go to your in-laws, and point at any of their daughters you wanted to f… err… wife. You could point at this and that and that and this.
Nowadays, Nigerians don’t point shii anymore and it’s not arthritis.
We’re lost. That’s just it. We traded the Nigerian dream for the American. Same way we trade Peak Nigeria for Peak Holland every day. A real pity. Amean, I embarked on a small field research to observe and here’s what I discovered; the divine art has been relegated to the runt of society to practice, bus conductors, tailors, mama put* etc remain the last bastions of this great art.
During the course of my research, I tarried much longer at the mama puts* than anywhere else more out of curiosity than my love for food. I watched (and engaged in the magnificent art of pointing) as people pointed at roundabouts* and shakis* and ponmos* etc. I also marveled at how they demanded for jara and the pleasure they took in sweating heavily after each meal. It was glorious! Watching them, I re-discovered the Nigerian dream afresh. “This is what we have lost as a people” I thought to myself. “We are lost” I also thought afterwards, somberly.
Now, no one wants to sweat after a meal. No one points. How can you go to Shoprite or KFC and point? How can you sweat when the AC is on full blast? You can’t sweat, demand for jara, or most importantly, point and say you want the biggest fried-chicken when you’re given a much smaller chicken at the same price… Tueh!
Amean, Exodus 17:11, would the Israelites have prevailed if Moses hadn’t pointed his rod?
Think and rediscover the Nigerian dream. Visit a point-and-kill outlet today. See a fine girl? Point and go straight to the point. It has always worked. See a man who you think you might like his D? point at the D.
Point at something today. That’s the point…
Loooooool! Pointing at the next set of pointies that catch my fancy.
This pointing matter no go put you from trouble ooo…