Medieval Morons In The Country Of Mumusville, By Bayo Oluwasanmi

Since my last visit, I was dying to revisit Mumusville to see if anything had changed for the better under medieval morons running the country. Mumusville which means the country of the dumb, the deaf, and the stupid, is ruled by medieval morons. My last visit to Mumusville was four years ago. It was a vacation of my life. All I read and told about Mumusville were true and accurate. Since my last visit, I was dying to revisit Mumusville to see if anything had changed for the better under medieval morons running the country. When the invitation came for a revisit to Mumusvillie, I didn't think about it twice. I jumped at the opportunity. This time, I'm better informed. I packed all the basic necessities that I needed during my stay: Toilet paper, paper towels, body lotion, tooth brush, toothpaste, bottled water, flashlights, beddings, soap, spongy, spoons, forks, first aid box, toothpaste, mirror, comb, hair brush, shaving blades, toothpicks, toothbrush, sunglasses, thermometers, BP monitor, raw food, etc. My host, in his invitation, insisted that I would need all those things because basic things are hard to come by in Mumusville because its economy has been grounded by marauders. I have been told many strange and scary things about Mumusville and Mumusvillians. But I didn't want to fall for the prejudices, biases, and propaganda of the enemies of Mumusville. To acquaint myself with the latest in Mumusville, I devoured as many literature as possible about the country. All set, I strapped my backpack, took my luggage and off to the airport. Got there at a good time. Checked in and sipped my coffee while waiting to board the plane. The 20-hour flight was smooth and hitch-free. My host was on time at the airport to pick me up. He is much younger than me. He has lived all his forty something years in Mumusville. He's one of the unlucky Mumusvillians that Mumusville happened to. He's intelligent, street wise, smart, hardworking, outgoing, and very funny. With all his God given talents, gifts, and abilities, like Mumusvillians of his generation, he's stranded in hopelessness and despair. He has nothing going for him. We had a little gossip about everything. He was gracious not to have prolonged the conversation. I went to bed early. I had a long restful night. Woke up 5am. Planned and plotted my itinerary for the day. I have my work caught out for me. I rented a car and my host served as my chauffeur. We drove around cities, towns, and villages of Mumusville. But to really get closer to Mumusvillians and their situation, we decided to park the car and walked around. The stench of poverty, hopelessness, helplessness, and despair reminds me of Alexander Radishchev, Russia's political writer, when he said: "I gazed around myself, and my soul was wounded by human suffering. I then looked inside myself and saw that man's troubles come from man himself." Mumusville is a country of stark contrast between extreme wealth and crushing poverty, a phenomenon usually described as "private opulence and public squalor." In Mumusville, I saw high-end luxury cars and homes adjacent to neighborhoods lacking basic infrastructure such as running water, electricity, roads, hospitals, and housing for humans. The obscene opulence amid crushing poverty was palpable. As I mingled and interacted with Mumusviliians, I was reeling in disbelief of the morally vulgar opulence and lack of sensibility and sensitivity on the part of Mumusville ruling class. I saw ostentatious display by the rich. I witnessed first hand a deep and disturbing psychological trauma and visible physical damage done to Mumusvillians. I felt the pains of the aching hearts in every Mumusvillian home. I noticed the tiredness and despair on the face of Mumusvillians brought about by suffocating poverty, unemployment, corruption, violence, killings, and other forms of oppression. Mumusvillians fight to outdo themselves in shameless stupidity, foolishness, dumbness, ignorance, arrogance, and corruption. They cannot agree on what's right or wrong. They can't distinguish or differentiate between good or bad. They are as confused and contorted as the medieval morons holding them hostage in the name of democracy. Mumusvillians rationalized and justified their sufferings on religious beliefs. Indeed, they see and sift everything through the lenses of religion. To them, religion is everything. Mumusvillians believe prayer is the answer to all their problems. Prayer will create jobs for them. It will provide electricity, roads, water, hospitals, and other basic necessities of life. Mumusvillians live and die in church or mosque. Their religious leaders made them believe that their home is in heaven. Good things await them in the great beyond. They believe their sufferings on earth will qualify them for paradise. They are encouraged to pray, pray, and pray until their lives explode or expire on the hills. My hotel is squeezed by conglomerate of churches and mosques with blistering and blasting noises of music, worship, and call for prayers. The noises endure for 24/7 nonstop. Here's is the shocker: Mumusvillians are the happiest, the most humble, the most contented, the most prayerful, the most gullible, the most submissive and the most subservient people in the world. Mumusville remains a puzzle, a nightmare, that defies any logic. It is a wicked place where killings are seen as a hunting game. As I wrapped up my visit to the country, Mumusvillians basking in the faith of Biblical Abraham, assured me that they are going to Heaven where the crown of victory awaits them. With sick smiles, I bid Mumusvillians goodbye and good luck in their next life!