Dear Puluma,

I actually called you by your local nickname to register an impression. A reminder of some sort. More like telling you it's from one of your followers, one who must have shared some moments with and around you in your village. I want to draw your mind back home, reminding you of Kiribo, the quiet, serene place close to the Atlantic.

The first time I stepped into your town, I allowed the tears to flow. I saw genuine love. All the children wanted to touch you. Their parents couldn't hold their joy. The older ones wouldn't allow any harm befall you. The women prayed hard for your wellbeing and went harder on your presidential ambition. They converged on your country home and asked for the heavenly protection and favours. The elderly gathered, and with their weak, shaky hands, begged the Almighty to be with their illustrious son.

I saw the real love, not one bought with money or powers. I dragged a young local aside and asked why this huge show of love. With a quizzical look, he asked if I knew who you truly are. A man who has consistently paid their tuitions, sent his brother to higher institution and got him a job after school. He looked at me again, and with pleading eyes, begged me to ask all my friends to vote for you.

I went to a corner and allowed one or two tears to escape.

Puluma, do not let me bore you with those needless stories up there. I actually want to pass a little message across to you while those confused ones still hold you hostage. I'm not sure this will get to you, but when it finally does, do not totally ignore. I'm writing yet smiling and shaking my big, oblong head. My joy is that you'd do the same when you read the charges those government bulldogs landed on you. You conspire with YOURSELF to oust their lord and even dared to bully him on the internet. What a cybercrime!

Again, I don't want to bore you with my needless digressions.

This missive is direct: leave Nigerians to our sufferings. When you leave that confinement, do everything possible to stay away from 'rescuing' us from whatever misgovernment has done us. Let's enjoy our darkness in peace while we brag to our neighbours with our generators. Can you allow us pray to God to help us fix our roads and refineries? He answers prayers! We want to enjoy our cashless policies, quietly abandon our highways because of kidnappers, negotiate with bandits and terrorists, watch serial killers given preferential treatments and boastfully accept apologies from our black brothers killing us.

Dear Puluma, leave us. Leave Nigerians. We're resilient and strong. We have succour. Our churches and mosques are our refuge. We'd cry unto the Lord, the author and finisher of our faith. He will come down to help us. He cannot forsake us this time. I know you believe in the Almighty and he'd save us from ourselves.

Just let us be. Leave us to our predicaments. We will be alright. Go back to your America and enjoy the neon lights on the streets of NYC. Didn't the beautiful Alicia Keys with her sonorous voice tell us how the lights in New York inspire people? Go home and savour the God's Own Land. In our 'home' here in Nigeria, we hold processions against Bobrisky and for #BBNaija housemates, converge on the same stadium you begged us to come for a peaceful #RevolutionNow protest and watch Tacha and Seyi fans clash.

I wish to continue this but my phone is blinking. Let me look for someplace to boost my battery. I'd get back to you.

Yours in cybercrime,

Arakunrin Ajos.

Puluma? Hearing that Nicky for the first time.. Though no a fan of Yele.

Yele