People miss you. I definitely miss you. Some people will swear they don't... right before they rush to buy a "2 for 5,000" miracle deal from a man selling it out of a cardboard box in broad daylight.
Things around here have become... impressively creative.
Take honey, for example.
Honey is no longer just honey. It's now a collaboration between sugar syrup, laboratory confidence, and one exhausted bee that probably didn't even consent to being on the label. They bottle it beautifully, slap on a picture of mountains, flowers, and happy bees, and suddenly we're expected to believe those bees have been working overtime without ever filing for annual leave.
Then there's alcohol. Not the fun kind.
The kind that makes you wake up feeling like your brain spent the whole night mixing cement at a construction site. Some bottles don't even bother hiding anymore. They just borrow a famous brand's outfit and hope nobody notices before the first sip.
Bananas have entered politics.
Some mysteriously disappear before the whole bunch reaches the market. By the time the shipment arrives, it looks like the bananas resigned halfway through the journey. Everybody pretends that's completely normal.
Rice?
Rice has become an influencer.
It's glowing.
Shining.
Moisturised.
Looking like it follows a 12-step skincare routine and drinks three litres of water a day. Some even get a little apple polish treatment so they can sparkle under supermarket lights. Unfortunately, beauty filters don't improve taste.
Black jeans, black shoes, and black clothes deserve acting awards. Someone introduces them to a mysterious "colour booster", and suddenly they're shining brighter than your future.
Until...
...the first wash.
Or sometimes the first walk home. Then they remember who they really are.
Milk has become a trust exercise. You no longer drink milk. You negotiate with it.
"Please... let today be cow's milk and not cow's opinion mixed with half the village water supply."
Tea time has become an act of faith.
Eggs...
Ah, eggs.
Even unborn chickens have entered the corruption economy. You take your eggs for hatching, and later you're told,
"Half were bad."
Really?
Can I see them?
"No."
Can I at least count them?
"Just trust us."
The same people asking for trust don't even trust each other enough to leave a calculator unattended.
Cooking oil has become a chemistry experiment.
Spices have become works of fiction.
And don't even get me started on those "Imported Products."
Imported...
Yes.
From the room behind the shop. With international packaging and local confidence. Integrity, this marketplace has become Netflix.
Everybody deserves an Oscar.
The packaging is acting.
The labels are acting.
The salespeople are acting.
Even the smile at the counter sometimes feels sponsored.
And us?
We're the audience.
Buying Premium Disappointment™ in premium-looking packaging.
Nowadays shopping isn't shopping.
It's CSI.
We inspect.
We shake.
We sniff.
We google.
We read reviews.
We compare.
We pray.
Sometimes all at the same time. And somehow... we still get played.
The funny part?
People have become experts at spotting fake products.
The sad part?
We're becoming less interested in spotting fake characters. Somewhere along the way, fear changed jobs.
People aren't as afraid of doing the wrong thing anymore. They're afraid of being the only honest person in the room.
Afraid of missing out.
Afraid of staying poor.
Afraid that integrity doesn't pay bills. So shortcuts started looking like career advice.
That's why I'm writing to you again.
Please...
Come back.
But don't travel alone.
Bring your cousin Fear of God.
Right now, Fear of Poverty has rented an apartment in this country and is behaving like it owns the entire neighbourhood. It has convinced people that survival excuses everything. That cheating is "being smart".
That lying is "business".
That fake is "innovation".
That getting caught is the only real mistake.
While you're packing, please don't forget your siblings.
Honesty.
Accountability.
Contentment.
And if possible, bring plenty of "Be a Good Person" gift hampers.
Make them family-sized.
We clearly need bulk supplies.
Because at this rate, even if they started selling fake Integrity, some people would still ask,
"How much for two?"
I'm tired, Integrity.
Not because people make mistakes.
But because mistakes are now marketed as business models.
