The death of Colonel Muammar Gadhafi, a hero, a pace-setter, a determinant.
If only he could be eulogized as thus. A visionary leader, un-bowed, smart and eccentric. But the world, the Western-idolizing world, celebrates his death with wild cries of rugged coyotes and pitiful pats on their backs. An achievement worth of champagne, important-looking faces of glee, indefatigable salutes of importance speeches, rush to acclaim the glory by the western regimes. The miscreants of noble gangs!
I mourn Muammar's death, and rightly so. He dreamt dreams and was ready to make them come true. He visioned the conglomeration of African States in an attempt to subdue the pathetic asperity the westerners had on Africa.And he, single-handedly, funded African's highest union, the African Union. he was the African savior.
But the African countries, despite all these, have proofed to be moribund. Under the aegis of asinine avarice from African leaders, and petty promises of international funds that will swell their personal coffers, it's no wonder that no one from AU raised a finger on Muammar's augurical woes that commenced in mid-February. Whereas Gadhafi cared for each and everyone's
ass in Africa, the vice-versa cannot be averred.
It is a case of pure and brutal betrayal.
So pure, so bile-filled than his purported death, which amazingly, has varied versions and ego-induced balder-dash poised to fortify the rebel's greatness. So great is the word 'rebels' to many an ears, that will soon bring a different acceptance to the title 'pirate'. It is no longer the antagonist's name but the champions of right and democracy!!
And the African leaders, their wrinkled balls emanating from their heavily lined fore-heads, continue with their devotion to protect their country men with high inflation, un-affordable food and fuel prices, internal self-extinction in the name of tribalism and plain, raw poverty. They have no time for someone who has tried to induce an environment of self-respect and recognition, donors instead of beggars, credibility instead of arrant stances.
Libyan's celebration is not Libyan's celebrations, it is the rebels celebrations. And i know some of the rebels, deep inside them, know that something has gone terribly awry. Here are some facts the Western-idolizing hard-hitting fourth estate has failed to highlight;
Libyans have never ever in Gadhafi's rule experienced anything called poverty! And in their country, there has never been a recorded terror-incidence since his reign. he may have been a dictator, yes and all that, for no man is a saint, but he was the most rewarding dictator in the world ever recorded. His lavish style with the use of the country's coffers is acceptable, for he gave much...too much for the citizens, too much for any country leader to invest in his people. Gadhafi was a saint.
1. There was
no electricity bill in Libya; electricity is free for all its citizens.
2. There was
no interest on loans, banks in Libya are state-owned and loans given to all its citizens at 0% interest by law.
3.
Home considered a human right in Libya – Gadhafi vowed that his parents would not get a house until everyone in Libya had a home. Gadhafi’s father has died while him, his wife and his mother are still living in a tent.
4. All newlyweds in Libya receive
$60,000 Dinar (US$50,000) by the government to buy their first apartment so to help start up the family.
5. Education and medical treatments are free in Libya. Before Gaddafi only 25% of Libyans are literate. Today the figure is 83%.
6. Should Libyans want to take up
farming career, they would receive farming land, a farming house, equipments, seeds and livestock to kick-start their farms – all for free.
7. If Libyans cannot find the education or medical facilities they need in Libya, the government funds them to
go abroad for it – not only free but they get US$2,300 per month accommodation and car allowance.
8. In Libyan, if a Libyan buys a
car, the government subsidized 50% of the price.
9. The price of
petrol in Libya is $0.14 per liter.
10. Libya has
no external debt and its reserves amount to $150 billion – now frozen globally.
11. If a Libyan is unable to get
employment after graduation the state would pay the average salary of the profession as if he or she is employed until employment is found.
12. A portion of Libyan
oil sale is, credited directly to the bank accounts of all Libyan citizens.
13. A mother who
gave birth to a child receive US$5,000
14. 40 loaves of
bread in Libya costs $ 0.15
15. 25% of Libyans have a
university degree
16. Gaddafi carried out the world’s largest
irrigation project, known as the Great Man-Made River project, to make water readily available throughout the desert country.
Prior to the international sanction placed on Gaddafi & Libya in the 1980s, it was one of the richest in the world by GDP per capita – with a living standard higher than Japan. It was the richest in Africa before the revolution.The living standard – GDP per capita is $11,314 for Libya, you cannot claim they are poor if they live better than your country. Gaddafi might have spent or carried out personal investment ventures using the country`s money but he did what most dictators don`t do, give back to the people, look after the average Libyan.
17.. Under Gaddafi’s oil-revenue-sharing program, each Libyan gets $500 (DOLLARS) dumped into his or her bank account, each month
18. Women in Libya have equal rights, not only as a philosophy, but also in practice.
19. Libyans have a direct participatory democracy based on People’s Conferences that puts other “democracies” to shame
I again reiterate, Libyans have done what Africans are adept at, digging their own graves in the name of Sarkozy and his cronies. When gnashing of teeth and painful nostalgia will starting hitting them hard, it will be too late. Let us give them the grace period for celebration before they embroil themselves in abject abyss too deep to be saved from. And then, probably then, they can unanimously proclaim Ken saro-Wiwa's lamentation:
AFRICA HAS KILLED HER SUN!
my tired being and threw me in parts unknown. Nearly 12 hours of my life never to be recovered and not a single memory of what had transpired in that period. I get up, dust myself, or maybe in this case, mud and grass or is it weed myself? Got lots of that combination all over me. I vow not to trust my heart and give my brain the power to dictate all that takes place from now on. After the little stint of my veins wanting to open up, i' m taking no more chances with my heart.
