The Nation Newspaper

Category: Hardball

  • Baba goes to school, again

    Hardball wishes to confess upfront that former President Olusegun Obasanjo (Baba) is a favourite punching bag on this arena and, in fairness to him, he must have a hide made like the Rhino’s. In fact he must be a glutton for taking punches. President Goodluck Jonathan once cried out that he holds the title for the most criticised president in Nigeria’s history but Hardball, himself a nobel winner in pugilistic criticism, will give that dubious award to Baba. If criticisms were punches, Baba would be punch-drunk now.

    But today, Baba is a winner with Hardball. Though it is easier and more healthful to criticise Baba than to shower him with praises; even you, dear reader, is probably more attuned to Baba-bashing, we must all swallow the bitter pill and praise Baba today. The story is that our own dear former President Obasanjo has enrolled in his alma-mater (National Open University of Nigeria, NOUN) to study for Masters and Ph.D degrees.

    Having agreed to be generous today and be on the positive side, we must say that this is a great development for several reasons. First it will give great fillip to NOUN; it will encourage old, idle rich people to go find some fulfillment (and even some mischief too) in the classroom and to get more degrees to their names. It is even particularly exemplary to wily, old and jobless politicians who parade themselves as god-fathers and make a job of disturbing the peace of the polity. They can now get something worthwhile to occupy them.

    We must acknowledge that apart from General Yakubu Gowon, Baba is the only former head of state we know (at least in Nigeria) who had the humility and good sense to return to the classroom after presiding over a country. That simply is an admission that even a president does not know it all. Immediately after he stepped down from his high office in 2007, he enrolled for a diploma in Christian Theology. Now seven years after, he has returned for higher degrees. “I do not want to be a pastor. I only want to know more about my God and serve Him better,” said Obasanjo. Isn’t that sobering and laudable?

    Hardball has heard sniggers about Baba going for a Ph.D just because President Jonathan flaunts one; it has been said that he grudgingly returns to school now that he has been worsted in the political arena and made irrelevant while some even say he is getting a Ph.D through the back-door since he had only a diploma. Some have even derided him, calling him uwa ngbede  – evening life (school) is ‘sweeter’. They say lack of learning explains why he came out such a poor leader even on two attempts. Hardball will not be drawn into the ring today; he will remain light-hearted and generous. And I say to Baba ema dawon lohun, let them say.

     

     

  • Ayo, beware of the wide and merry way…

    Ah, in Nigeria’s ever ludicrous theatre, two Ayos strut the stage: one, of the Pentecostal-religious hue, who also doubles as secular president of Nigerian Christendom; the other, of the partisan political stock, who only last August won a stunning election in Ekiti, but now appears set to self-destroy, even before taking office.

    To both, the scriptural dictate, indeed diktat: beware of the wide and merry way that leads to perdition.  Embrace the straight and narrow path that leads to salvation.

    Are these two Ayos beyond redemption?  Hardly. Say the scriptures, after all: God does not want the sinner to perish but to repent and be saved.  Still, do the duo take this to heart?

    From the rapid-fire preacher, in the mould of a savvy sports-caster running live football commentary on radio, and donning his inimitable Afro hair, Ayo Oritsejafor has come a long way from the dashing spiritual side-kick to the late Archbishop Benson Idahosa.  From the adorable and respected tele-evangelist, who always signed off each excellent delivery with “ma wife, Mama Helen”, the beautiful and chaste one beaming by his side, Pastor Oritsejafor has scaled the apex of Nigerian Christendom, berthing as Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN) president.

    But like an object that has vaulted a dizzying height and is set for a plummet, our beloved pastor appears hooked on the wide and merry way the Bible so sternly warns against.

    When a pastor cruises around in a private jet (O, it is for air evangelism — besides, my God is not a wretched God!), blindly takes CAN under him to uncritical partisanship and still grandstands, even when faced with a shameful scandal, involving his evangelical jet in probable money-laundering cum gun-running, running into $9.3 million, the wide and merry way beckons.

    And to think the revered pastor was paraphrased by a newspaper as having claimed “enemies of Christianity were linking him to the deal”! So, the pastor is Nigerian Christendom and Nigerian Christendom is the pastor?  Indeed, perdition urgently calls!

    The good pastor should take the wise counsel of Femi Falana: If his presidential lobbies shield him from prosecution for breaching the Companies and Allied Matters  Act (CAMA), which insists that “a jet registered for the facilitation of evangelism cannot be leased to another company for commercial purposes as churches are registered under CAMA as non-profit making organisations”, he should at least publicly apologise to Nigerians; and, like fumbling but remorseful King David, over the Uriah-Bathsheba affair, seek private forgiveness from his God. Otherwise, perdition beckons!

    As for the other Ayo, Fayose, he of stomach infrastructure in the rocky enclave of Ekiti, scandal and chaos appear, to him, second nature! Like the same Biblical King David, from whose house the sword never departed, Ayo Fayose and trouble would appear bound like fish and water.

    The embattled governor-elect is entitled to his plea of innocence.  But it is instructive that it is when he makes the precincts of the courts that a judge gets mugged; and it was when he lost a judicial call that a courtroom got invaded and court records shredded!

    Ayo, my son, beware of the wide and merry way…

  • Joshua’s self-righteous fixation

    IF it was not such a heartrending disaster of blood and death, the September 12 building collapse at The Synagogue Church of All Nations (SCOAN) in Ikotun, Lagos, has angles that provoke a chuckle. Hardball is not referring to the earlier stories that the church was targeted, which its leader, Prophet Temitope Joshua, served to a disbelieving public, although these are included.

    It is noteworthy that Joshua released security camera footage which showed a “strange aircraft” flying over the church a number of times before the guest house within its premises collapsed. He also presented an email suggesting a previous failed plot to bomb the church by the Islamist guerilla force Boko Haram, which is promoting terroristic activities in the country, mainly in the northern region.

    Interestingly, Joshua insists on continuing this apparent appeal to pity and the pursuit of the discernible objective of painting a picture of victimhood. Apart from being unsupported by persuasive proof, his effort conveniently ignores the more fundamental and evidential issues surrounding the crumbling of the building.

    In his latest attempt to externalise the cause of the tragedy, he reacted to a report by a South African journalist, Jacques Pauw, which implied that his publicised miracles were fake.  Pauw had said: “I challenged the pilgrims to provide me with medical proof that they had been healed. None did.” This was against the background that the collapsed guest house was reportedly occupied largely by visiting South Africans who numbered 349 at the time of the incident. It is believed that the calamity consumed 115 people, including 84 South Africans.

    In a statement released through the church’s Faceboook page, Joshua offered a self-righteous defence. He said: “The writer(s) fabricated names of people who do not exist and remained faceless in order to hide their evil intentions. They need to be investigated.”  Joshua continued: “It is our belief that these stories were intended to divert people’s attention from the evil that has been done.”

    In case there was any doubt about the kernel of his communication, he made himself clear enough when he said: “Those involved in these stories need to be investigated concerning the building collapse. If they are not directly involved, they will help the investigation. If they are not the ones who did it, they know those who did. Perhaps they were involved in the building collapse because they claim what is happening in The SCOAN is fake.”

    It is logical to ponder why Joshua seems fixated on the idea that the building must have collapsed as a result of an outside machination by those who do not wish him and his church well. Reports said the affected building was originally a three-storey structure which was being raised to accommodate three additional floors. In this context, the General Manager, Lagos State Building Control Agency, Mrs. Abimbola Animashaun, was quoted as saying: “We have investigated and found that they had no approval for the additional structures.”

    So, who deserves to be investigated, probably more than anyone else? Joshua may need to look inward; this is no time to take a position of unbending unreasonableness.

  • How about Chimewood?

    Cinema buffs know that we first had Hollywood, America’s world be-straddling soft power, which unbeknownst to many is its most virile instrument of imperialism. Then came Bollywood, India’s own cinema empire, which captivated the attention of Africa in the 70s, and today, Nollywood, takes the centre-stage. In fact, the last 20 years have witnessed the ascendance of Nigeria’s cheap home-video flicks, churned out by the dozen.

    Love Nollywood or hate it, It tells the Nigerian and African story and it has dominated Africa and the under-developed world. It has helped many countries of Africa realise that even they too have stories to tell the world. For instance, Nollywood could claim to be the gynaecologist that delivered Ghana’s own Ghollywood. And we almost forgot: Nollywood is instrumental to the recent re-basing of Nigeria’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP). But please do not ask Hardball for further clarifications on that.

    But of course you are not interested in the history of Nigeria’s cinematography; at least not on this space. And Hardball can confirm that he is neither an expert in that world of glitz and make-believe. We are actually intrigued today by the inscrutable and mirthless Governor Sullivan Chime of Enugu State. Well, Enugu could lay claim to the title of the unofficial headquarters of Nollywood but that feat is with nary a helping from Chime. What then?

    Hardball is thrilled by the fact that the Chime household, his government and politics have become repositories of so much dramatic stories to create another cinematic wood and takes the liberty to term it Chimewood. Here are the bankable themes for block-buster Chimewood flicks. There was the episode of Governor Chime being sick and abroad for many months and his dowager of a chief of staff be-straddled the state. In such a situation, you would hate to be a deputy governor but that indeed is the story. To prove this point, try these titles: “The Powerful Wrapper” or “The Governor’s Woman”.

    There was also the episode recently of Chime ‘cannibalising’ his deputy on account of his rearing chickens in his official residence. The entire legislature was corralled into impeaching the deputy governor who apparently loved home-bred chicken so much he lost his exalted job. Titles like: “The Chicken Chasers” or “Government Fowl” are suggested here.

    A few days ago, Governor Chime called together members of his party and without any such annoying equivocation or even prevarication that is the trademark of governance in Nigeria, he told them pointblank whom the next governor would be. Wow! What a great story there. How about titles like: “My Choice is Final” or “When God Has Spoken”?

    One more episode and we roll. Never short of drama in his domain, Chime had fallen out with his beautiful, young, second wife, Clara, some months back. It was a bitter quarrel that seized onlookers by the scruff. Clara accused Chime of inflicting serious psychological trauma on her and holding her without her consent. But hubby said wife was unstable and needed protective custody. She quit the government lodge to stem the ensuing hoopla.

    Today Clara writes the most beautiful love letters strewn with roses and published in national newspapers to Chime seeking forgiveness. While Hardball prays for peace and reunion, here is one Chimewood title for the road: “Gubernatorial romantics”.

     

  • Blind exclusion

    Why not now? Those in a position to answer the question could easily have acted in a way that would have made the poser out of the question. There is no riddle here. Hardball is simply talking about this year’s edition of a ceremony that is increasingly justifying the tag of a hollow ritual. Indeed, to call it by its formal name, the National Honours’ Award Ceremony sounds awkward because it has lost its soul and has become soulless; these two things may not be the same.

    Speaking of souls, particularly the souls of the dead, there must have been quite a few who in their ethereal form attended the September 29 investiture at the International Conference Centre, Abuja. Perhaps they were at the venue just to see the spectacular show organised by the living dead. Or is there a better description for those who are biologically alive but morally dead?

    The celebration of deadened consciousness, which the event projected on account of glaring and jarring omissions in the list of awardees, represented yet another instance of institutional ingratitude. In this specific case, the institution is no other than the Presidency.

    It would take a phenomenal leap of the imagination to grasp the Presidency’s insensitive treatment of the memory of those who recently paid the ultimate price and made a supreme sacrifice for the country. It would probably be more appropriate to call it an egregious insult which the departed do not deserve.

    What is even more unacceptably unthinking and unfeeling is the reality that there was enough time for the Goodluck Jonathan administration to correct its monumental error, even though the blunder shouldn’t have happened in the first place. What is more, between September 19 when the full list of awardees was publicised and September 29 when they were decorated, there were loud calls from concerned quarters highlighting the nauseating exclusion.

    Two of such wake-up calls will suffice. The Chairman, Nigeria Medical Association (NMA), Cross River State chapter, Dr. Callistus Enyuma, said: “One would expect that she should not be neglected when honours are given. I believe it is not too late for her to be included on the honours’ list. She must have that honour.” Next, the President of Jojaina Deck of the National Association of Seadogs, Mr. Fabian Avoh, said: Let us ask the Federal Government or precisely the Presidency what yardstick was used in including all sorts of people on the list of the highest honour in the land when Adadevoh, who sacrificed her life, was not on the list.”

    In a reasonable context, the inclusion of Dr. Ameyo Stella Adadevoh who died on August 19 should have been beyond question. She was the most prominent among the country’s health care workers who died of Ebola Virus Disease after contracting it from the Liberian- American Patrick Sawyer who brought it into the country and died from it on July 25. Instructively, the Lagos State Commissioner for Health, Dr. Jide Idris, said of her role: “She it was who took the initiative to intimate the ministry concerning the index case; and substantially to her credit, the moderate containment achieved we owe to her and her colleagues.”

    There is no doubt that the professional intervention of Adadevoh and others arrested the possibility of a wide-spread dispersal of the deadly virus. The Jonathan administration must be suffering from inattentional blindness.

     

     

     

     

  • TANning their hide!

    Goodluck Jonathan’s Transformation Ambassadors of Nigeria have hit the polity with their inimitable acronym, TAN.  But who are TAN?  Who is TANning who?  And who are being TANned?

    Give it to the president and his pre-election propagandists: they sure know how to come up with memorable acronyms.  The last time, it was Neighbour-2-Neighbour, N2N, for short.  From N2N votes, legit or crooked, that body came up with stunning N2N harvest of public resources.

    That scandal sent a minister and former N2N empress crashing from her ministerial heights, at the very apex of Mount Olympus.  But never mind: no indictment, not to talk of conviction, so far.  All is just ill-tempered baying for blood by gross plebs, who cannot even distinguish between ordinary stealing and corruption!  And the ex-minister must have nodded to herself, just like that Achebe-an reptile: a lizard that falls from the high Iroko tree (and didn’t go kaput) praises himself, even if no one else did!

    But N2N is history. TAN is the future.  But the difference is between six and half-a-dozen.

    As N2N galvanised to harvest for Jonathan a pan-Nigeria mandate of Southern Nigeria and the Middle Belt, TAN is promising even more: to vault perhaps the most incompetent president Nigeria ever had to the country’s first unquestionable emperor!

    You doubt this claim?  Well, look at the Southsouth and Southeast.  It is a case of preaching to the converted — you only waste your saliva.  Jona is done deal!

    In the Southwest, reprobates are at work, set to pacify the electorate to willy-nilly enthrone the new emperor.  If you could incite the Igbo against their hosts, all the better!

    The Middle Belt?  Religious rancour is it: to the traumatised Christians there, Jona is new emperor come to save Middle Belt Christians from their age-old Arewa Muslim bullies and local colonisers.

    In the core North itself, it is carte blanche for Jonathan: the political paper tigers have been recanting by the dozen. Jona elixir is their new alchemy, at least intra-PDP.  What is more?  If Sai Jona likes, he could even junk Vice-President Namadi Sambo, for a now defanged Sule Lamido.  The Jigawa socialist may well fancy his chances as new vice-emperor.  Half bread is better than no bread at all, abi?

    But who are these magic workers strutting this new roar of halleluyah to the chief?  TAN, of course!  TAN has tanned the hide of Jonathan’s PDP challengers.  Pronto, they’ve turned sudden cheer leaders.  TAN also tanned the hide of Ebola. Even when it raged and threatened, not even that fear could stop the TAN-organised multitudes screaming for the chief to continue.

    But TAN could well be tanning your hide too. Newspaper reports claim TAN sucks its nourishment from federal parastatals, after pressuring ministers to pressure their underlings to “deliver”.  And pronto, the cash spigot!

    But wait: how can Jonathan be all foxtrot in election build-ups, witness N2N and now TAN; and yet is a damp squib when it’s time for the work he heartily campaigned for? Just call it the (un)presidential TANning of gullible hides!

  • Jonathan, can you say no?

    IT is interesting that President Goodluck Jonathan is proving to be a master choreographer and perhaps contradicting the view of his antagonists that he is a clueless leader. The amused public can look forward to the next episode in a long-running entertainment show; and it is likely to feature enthusiastic sycophants pleading with Jonathan to agree to be the presidential candidate of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) in the 2015 general elections. With his unprecedented endorsement by the party’s governors, Board of Trustees and National Executive Committee, the question of holding the conventional Presidential Primary to choose a candidate has been effectively overtaken by events.

    Add to this picture the reinforcing activities of the obsessive self-defined non-governmental organisation known as Transformation Ambassadors of Nigeria (TAN), which insists on an   incomprehensible objective: “the continuation of transformation by President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan (GEJ)”.  What the group makes of the concept of “transformational government” remains a puzzle because the Jonathan administration has been anything but that. However, TAN’s promotional train is on course and its region-by-region approach is expected to climax in the federal capital, Abuja, on September 30.

    But Jonathan would want observers to believe that this background, as persuasive as it is, may not be enough to make him interested in re-election. He seems determined not to be seen as desperate for a second term in office, which may be a reasonable projection; but it is impossible to hide his ambition. Indeed, in a telling irony, the harder he struggles to mask his aspiration, the more he gives himself away.

    It is noteworthy that when he appeared at his party’s September 20 “Southwest sensitisation rally,” he could not resist wearing that familiar mask of deception. In his speech on the occasion, he referred to the various endorsements and introduced a suspicious complication. He said: “I also have the right of refusal and I thank the party for giving me the opportunity.”

    The question is: Would he exercise this right and refuse? Jonathan, perhaps unwittingly, but more likely not innocently, supplied the answer, albeit in a coded communication. He boasted about the establishment of a Presidential Jobs Board which would “create three million jobs in the next one year.” He reasoned:  ”That means in a few years, we would solve the problem of unemployment.”  Then he added: “We continue to promise to transform Nigeria; make changes and never go back. We need all Nigerians to work with us. In the next few years, unemployment will continue to drop. We are totally committed to changing all sectors of the Nigerian economy.”

    Read between the lines. Does he sound like a man who would say “No”?  He must be self-deluded to imagine that his game of laboured suspense is beyond public comprehension. On the contrary, whatever game he is playing appears so cheap and degrading, not to say nauseating.

    From the look of things, Jonathan could be dreaming of a day when the entire country would rise as one and crown him without opposition.  That dream is a grandiose delusion

  • Ekiti: Ifa ti se o! (Ifa has done it!)

    IN Ekiti of Ayo Fayose, governor-elect, on the brink of taking over from the outgoing John Kayode Fayemi, Ifa has really done it!

    Translated in a way, Fayose could mean: “Ifa will do it”.  Since that is Governor-elect Ayo’s surname, and no sane person spews out sweet palm kernels thrust in their mouths by benevolent spirits, it can logically be deduced that Fayose prayed that prayer for himself; and that Ifa has actually delivered to the lucky name bearer the very promise of his name. Talk of metaphysical incest!

    But as they say in the great Nigerian lingo, nothin’ spoil.  In any case, in plain English, ill luck is not transferable — and neither is good luck! So, you can’t really blame Ayodele Fayose for benefitting from the great promise of his own name?  Mba! Oti o!  A’a!

    Still, there is a terrible déjà vu about Fayose’s name and its peculiar promise fulfilled. On his first coming, Fayose was an enfant terrible, a gubernatorial gadfly, nay Leviathan, before whom everyone, king or subject, patrician or plebeian, Jew or gentile, must rock with fear. Ah, those days! It was one day, one trouble; one minute, one scandal; one second, one uproar; and you-know-who was masterfully strutting the stage of the grand orchestra of discord.

    Yeah, Ekiti had known some peace these past four years. But if you think those bad old times are gone, just re-witness what happened in an Ado-Ekiti High Court yesterday.  For the taste of the bedlam, the intro of The Nation’s front page report of Tuesday  September 23: “Panicky lawyers, litigants and officials ran out of the court room, screaming as scores ran into their offices and shut their doors; others hid under tables, away from the rampaging thugs.”

    And what did the High Court do to deserve being laid so low; sacked by low-life thugs that mercilessly cracked down on the cream of society, and invaded our Law’s high temple of justice turned mere den of thieves?

    Mr. Justice Isaac Ogunyemi just permitted himself the temerity, and awarded his court the illusion that both can assume jurisdiction over a case against the All-mighty Fayose, Ifa’s own appointed!  What arrant nonsense!  So, in front of Ayo Fayose, even the courts must bow? And if so, what happens to our democracy, anchored, at least in its pristine form, on rule of law and checks and balances?

    And Jonathan? As always, he sees no evil, he hears no evil — especially if that evil works for his own good! Welcome to a presidency of anything goes, where no abomination is foreclosed! By their brazen court show, the Fayose camp’s tactics are clear: intimidate the court and the case will vamoose! Under Jonathan’s presidency of anything goes? It is very, very possible!

    But let no one defile Ifa. Ifa, to the Yoruba, is awo mimo (immaculate cult), which suffers no stain. It is at the heart of the Yoruba religious cosmos. Whoever dares it with dirt only dooms himself. Proof? Ask Fayose himself: from the disgrace of his first coming.

  • Hardball just kicking a CAN around

    Hardball wishes to enjoy a word game today using the abbreviation CAN. You CANnot feign ignorance of the full meaning of CAN if you are a Nigerian adult because there is only one CAN in the CANonical landscape of Nigeria today. And this CAN has been CANned or if you are morbid-minded, you may say that it has been CANnibalised and left in an unholy muck for some time now. CAN is in the thrashCAN!

    It is rather unCANny that we all have had to put up with this CANt for so long. To be CANdid, CAN has been commonised like a CANteen; those roadside bukas where anything goes. It is indeed a CANker, a CANdle in the wind. There is no doubt that the CAN hierarchy are not CANoodling themselves over this CAQNine distemper of a situation. Their faces must be heavy now and their cassocks seemingly moldy; their shoulders droop as if they bear the heavy burden of an imaginary CANgue. Yes, the yoke, the portable pillory carried by minor offenders in ancient China. That is the unspoken burden of CAN today, her CANe, her cup and her cross.

    One of the most respected influence groups in Nigeria, CAN has become like an expired CANnister – used, abused and discarded by some people possessed of what may be described as CANnite appetite. CAN CANnot sing CANtatas anymore; it must have lost its CANorous voice in a land rendered even more arid today by interlopers, wannabes and popinjays. Where once sweet alleluyahs would rise to the heavens morning, noon and night it is now silence; the overbeariQng silence of money chasers making music with currency counting machines. CAN sleeps under the dark CANopy of currencies, shielding itself from the lights of heaven.

    CAN’s sound of music has become sound of money. Money-mongering is the high gospel of the day, the CANonisation of cash. Cash must be king for CAN now or is it still Christ? The terrestrial choir has sung itself hoarse in praise worship of the majesty of Marmon. It is a wide-eyed pursuit – the more you have, the more you crave. Their choirs have lost their voices as they now chant inCANtations to their new-found gods sitting on suitcases of crisp dollar notes. Their faith need not move mountains anymore; why disturb the mountains if you can jet over them?

    Who will redeem CAN from being flushed into the odious CANal of wantonness? Alas, no CANdelabras burn for CAN anymore in this parched land. It is indeed a CANdidate for annulment. It CANnot in good conscience continue to demand our respect; CAN is today at the nadir of its existence, roiled in this CANyon of its life.

    Sprawled on this CANvas of shame, who will save CAN? The CANnon-ball is on the roll; where are the men of CANdour? In this inCANdescent time, no CANapes are served here anymore because there is sawdust in our mouth. Yes, we chew the long bitterCANe of our forgotten sin wearing sullied cassocks. Ah, we puff the long, dried CANnabis of our current sin; we relish the sugarCANdy of our wayward days when we couldn’t speak truth to power. And we have become the CANdida of this moldy age. Our CANdle flutters in the wind; we drop a tear for CAN.

  • Hardball needs a private jet!

    Woe alas! I have just wised up; no, I have just grown up! I had always wondered why Nigerians suddenly caught the bug of owning private jets (PJs). It must be a crazy man who would shell out between N450 to N500 million to buy one iron bird, I had conjectured in my naïve, child-like mind. Why, a man could build a new town in a corner of the country instead of buying a PJ, a wasting asset, but how plebian, how simple of mind can anyone be!

    From recent discovery, any Nigerian above the age of 18 who does not aspire to own a PJ in the next few months must be a moron. And here are reasons why. One, Nigeria is a supremely rich country and can well afford every Nigerian male a jet of his own. And don’t be a fool to wonder for a second where you will park your PJ, just tell yourself ‘I will park mine where others park theirs. Remember nobody brought parking space from his village.

    Another reason you must not be squirmy about seeking to own a jet of your own today is that it is extremely comfortable. Those who revel in it are quick to regal you with stories about the hedonistic comforts of that toy. It is said that if you flew in it once, you will never wish to fly any other way. In fact they say you will simply come to the realisation that it is indeed a curse to have been flying in those air-molues. Further, if it happens to be the kind fitted with water-bed and Jacuzzi like some of our federal ministers fly, then you will realise that paradise is actually a Nigerian reality and not a celestial construct.

    A third reason you must do anything to own a PJ now (!) is that the rate  the PJ cult is growing, in a couple of years, the DNA of the true Nigerian will be determined not just by the ownership of a PJ but by the number and type of your PJ. Then there will only be two classes of Nigerians – the PJ owners and the hoi polloi. And do not say I didn’t warn you dear reader, when that time comes, it would be easy to determine, or if you like, control the population of the country.

    One innocuous way they – the jet-set, super-rich, super-class – can set about eliminating some of us dregs is to fly up mid-air above our heads in their PJs, they and their kinds and let off a napalm of farting that can exterminate half of us. That way even the UN would not accuse them of using chemical weapons; it would simply be termed accidental discharge from acute bowel disorder. And the case will be closed.

    Perhaps the most important reason you must die for a private jet is that once you own one, you will never be poor again. Opportunities will open to you as if you were an Arabian sheikh. There is nothing you cannot do with your PJ backed by federal might. You can haul currencies for the federal government, ship arms for the security community and carry human cargo and body part for the Baby Factory Group of the Manufacturers Association. Everything is legit with a PJ.

    Ah my boy, in all your getting, get yourself a PJ pronto!