At the 8th edition of Ake Arts and Book Festival, Vice President Yemi Osinbajo thrilled his audience with a romantic story of a lover boy trying to reach his love on a letter.
His ability to blend a love story to discuss the creative ability of many Nigerian youth is quite commendable.
Read the story below
“When I was 10 years old, there was a girl in my class who I was quite certain at the time that I could give my life. So I wrote her a lovely poem over a weekend; I wrote the poem on Friday and finished it on Saturday. And it was, if I may say so myself, a work of sheer genius.”
It ended with the dramatic words; “your warm embrace may be the last desire of my heart before I die!”
I tucked it in my school bag and looked forward with a heart filled with love for Monday, to present to the object of my affections. So, I bore my injuries as a worthy suffering.
My mum, while cleaning out the bag, found the letter, and all hell broke loose. Needless to say, she beat the poetic genius out of me that terrible afternoon.
But that’s not the end of the story. True love as you know, will survive even the worst brutality.
So, I bore my injuries as a worthy suffering. On Monday morning, I found the best opportunity to give her a freshly written version of the poem. I turned away as she took the letter, I didn’t want to behold the sheer pleasure as she read it…
…but as I turned around, I noticed that she had actually handed the poem over to the teacher and she was pointing at me!
While my physical bruises have healed from that experience and what happened with the teacher, my capacity for writing romantic poetry greatly diminished.”
This story would have just been another brilliant public speaking note, not until Mr. Vice President took to his twitter account to reveal it was all fictional.
Read about public reactions in this link.
At the end of the story, Vice President Yemi Osinbajo went further:
Imagine the failure to recognize the responsibility of the individual, especially the gifted individual.
Does the artist have a responsibility to society beyond that of the ordinary citizen? Is there a civic tax payable on talent?
Does the fact of your genius place upon you, a moral burden to attempt to use the powerful voice of your art to fight for the soul of the land, especially to fight for the soul of the land from whence you came?
Can Africa afford to have its best talents wearing halos of political innocence and saying “let us leave politics to the scoundrels?”