The Patrician Academy is the rearing ground of the next generation of leaders in society, accessible only to the top brass of society. It is not an academy that trains specialists nor is it to nurture the professional class. It is unapologetically a a school for training the ten percent of society.
Who can afford to school at the Patrician Academy? The children of the ultra wealthy, those whom the peoples of the world recognises as 'Divus'; the ones blessed by God. Then naturally it is the scions of the kings and their princes, the judges, the mighty men and the great merchants that can attend the Academy.
Now come with me dear reader, oh curious visitor delight of my imaginations, friend of my pen, you for whom I have set aside my amateur worries and prepared this sincere body of work for.
Come now dear reader and look with your mind's eye upon the crowning achievement of ancient and modern architecture and masonry, envision it now, where the top brass would live!
Ah! Is that not the sun's rays outlining the peaks of their towering castles as if it were the region of Bashan reposing at dawn, look upon their imposing heights as desirable as a ruby set in a signet ring it it. Look at their hanging gardens at every turn of the neck, invoking the lustrous manes of young able-bodied horses, even like the flowing manes of a string of Arabian stallions, even like the billowing manes of the mighty warhorses of the Pharaoh's war chariot!
Splendour abounds, leach manor with it's own mini city gate, walking through this reserved residential area is akin to arriving at prime Nineveh in a time loop. Look at the tarred roads! poured out like fine marble, even fine marble tiles from Rome.
Come dear reader let us scale their massive walls with watchtowers at every corner stationed with lax sentries, rusty with comfort. Aha! Fountains and flowerbeds, exotic trees transplanted from the wildernesses of Keder and Nabaioth, huge boulders like miniscule mountains casting their presence over the manmade ponds, ah! Look, there the lotuses hover upon the face of the waters, most noble of all flowers, truly divine. Go on my guest, take a whiff, even a deep one.
Blessed is it not? Here now we go into their mansions and behold hosts of manservants and maidservants headed by butlers and stewards. All of them radiant, all of them attending, ministering, waiting.
There they go alighting the stairs, here they come descending the elevators, as if like finished products upon a conveyor belt they go about their service, automatic in assembly line.
Thus they serve their masters whom recline right temple upon right fist, right side through to right leg laying upon fine Egyptian bedlinen, left palm on left hip, left leg stepping upon the Damascene divan, altogether reveling in finely pressed wine, grapes from the hands of beuties, harp music of their home band, humming to the tune of the lyre of their songstress', eyes closed soaking in the violin of the songmen.
Completely oblivious to the soft desperate cries of the poor and needy, oppressed by their callous indifference and ravenous gain. Can you smell it? Rouse your nostrils! The stench is putrid, it goes up to heaven, it burns a hole in the ozone layer, it darkens the clouds with it's foul fumes, it is that distinct stank called injustice with it's peculiar aroma of violence!
All is not well in this kingdom, look again, is not the sun blood-red even at high noon instead of gold? the sky is NOT warm blue like the depths of the celestial ocean, no! It is blue-black with violence like the surface of the thrum.
Oh! The poor are oppressed and there is none to help them, anyone who dares attempt honesty is immediately befallen, victim to violence! Those who are willing do not have the arm and the stomach, those who have the arm and the stomach cannot sleep without trampling the lowly.
But now dear reader listen to Heavenly wisdom! A people's leaders are the sum total of all their ways. When Omnione decides to punish a nation he appoints over them a ruler who is the encapsulation of all their transgressions. Ancient truths now replaying, the wicked will eat the very craft they practice.
Does not violence start from the ground up and injustice flow from the home into the streets? Now behold are not the oppressed oppressing each other!? Is not the one denied justice afflicting an even lesser one than he!?
The contemporary African adage says "Unless your father is a judge, and your elder brother a lawyer, your eyes will not see vindication and your mouth will not taste justice". Is not our Father The Judge of judges and is not our Brother our Defense, even together with The Advocate?
The saints said in the scriptures that The Spirit of Omnione looks to and fro upon the earth for someone to shew himself mighty through amongst the sons of men, for someone to lavish His Blessings upon! And when He finds none, He proceeds to raise them up, picked from the seed of the loins, called from the womb and chosen through Grace, all for His Goodpleasure. This is that story.