Title: The Scales of Justice: A Nation on Edge
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the restless city. A hush settled over the streets as the whispers of injustice echoed through the alleys and avenues. In a land once proud of its resilience, a dangerous sentiment simmered beneath the surface—one that threatened to set the nation ablaze.
Liborous Oshoma, a seasoned attorney and fearless advocate for human rights, watched the unraveling chaos with a heavy heart. He had seen it coming, had warned of its inevitability. Yet, his words had fallen on deaf ears. Now, the embers of injustice burned brighter, fueling the fury of the forgotten.
"Justice delayed is justice denied," he had said, his voice laced with an urgency that few heeded. "And when people are denied justice, they take the law into their own hands."
The ghosts of unresolved murders loomed over the country. The tragic death of Deborah Samuel in 2022, the countless priests kidnapped and slain in Edo, the cries of families still waiting for answers—all met with silence, all swept beneath the rug of selective justice. And yet, when the tides turned, when vengeance came knocking on different doors, there was swift action—"fire for fire," they called it.
Oshoma saw the patterns, the selective outrage. He saw how justice, when wielded unevenly, became a weapon rather than a shield. The people saw it too, and their patience was wearing thin.
In the North, anger festered like an open wound. Where was the outcry when their kin were slaughtered? In the South, the air buzzed with unrest—how many more would vanish before justice woke from its slumber? The land was at a breaking point, teetering on the edge of self-destruction.
"Justice must be equal," Oshoma had argued in a televised interview, his words a plea and a warning. "We cannot romanticize one tragedy while igniting flames over another. If justice is not swift, if it is not blind, then we are merely playing with fire."
The silence that followed was deafening. And in that silence, a storm brewed.
The people watched. They waited. But for how long? Justice was not just an idea; it was the balance that kept the nation from collapse. And if that balance tilted too far—if justice continued to wear a mask of bias—the country would wake to a reckoning unlike any before.
Oshoma’s words hung in the air, a prophecy not yet fulfilled but dangerously close. The question remained: Would justice prevail, or would the people take matters into their own hands?
The clock was ticking.
0 Comments