Post by Eneojo Sani (@ESANI2091)

They said the light would be steady by now.
They said the promise was coming last year.
But we learned to read in the flicker, cook in the dark, and turn dying generators into a midnight choir.
Let NEPA rest.
We carry our own voltage.
You cannot plunge a people into darkness when they hold the noonday sun in their chests.
I see you.
Yes, you, the one refreshing the page with dying data,
turning “God When?” into “God Dey.”
The one whose hope never reaches zero percent.

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