l man does not measure the weight of his principles in currency.

He does not place his oath on the table like a market item, waiting for the highest bidder.

When loyalty has a price tag, it becomes merchandise, and merchandise can be returned, exchanged, discarded. That is what we see: men trading allegiance the way traders haggle over pepper at the market.

Their word is no longer a bond; it is a slip of paper passed around until the ink fades.

Cross carpeting has become an epidemic. One week, a man swears his soul to a party.

The next week, he swears the same soul to another, louder, as if volume can hide the emptiness behind it. They do not change because the country demands change.

They change because their seats feel shaky. Because relevance whispers. Because a padded envelope knocks at the door.

You cannot trust a man who changes his uniform every time the drums shift rhythm.

Such a man will never stand firm when storms come. He will not protect the people he claims to serve.

He will protect only the bridge that carries him to the next reward.

True loyalty does not wander.

True loyalty does not tremble when another hand waves money in the dark.

True loyalty is a man standing where he said he would stand, long after others have run for shade.

And so we arrive at the truth: Loyalty with a price tag is not loyalty at all. It is cowardice disguised as cleverness.

It is greed wearing the mask of pragmatism.

It is the slow rot that eats a nation from within.

Nigeria deserves better.

A people cannot prosper when their leaders have the steadiness of drifting smoke.

A country cannot grow when conviction is rented, borrowed, or auctioned off.

Let the men who hop from party to party claim they are doing it for the people.

Let them claim it is for “balance,” for “strategy,” for “peace.”

History will say otherwise. History will call it what it is:

_A betrayal sold in broad daylight._

And the price?

Far cheaper than they think.

Far costlier than Nigeria can afford.

EA

☄️🇳🇬🙏🏾