The Nation Newspaper

Tag: Baba Lekki

  • Okon and Baba Lekki in rowdy Easter celebrations

    There are more matters for an April morning—— to misappropriate the great bard of Stratford Upon Avon. William Shakespeare himself was no stranger to poaching, having been once famously accused of poaching deer from a government Reservation. There were rumours that the supreme deity of dramatic literature poached other things as well. But that is not before the board, as they say in the arcane lingo of bureaucratic mischief.

    With Okon, it is one trouble per day. A  week to Easter, snooper stumbled on the mad boy with Baba Lekki in festive mood surrounded by several kegs of fresh palm wine. The duo were already the worse for drunken wear. Snooper tiptoed away to avoid unnecessary commotion, but the mad boy was having none of that.

    “Oga come join us now. Man no be wood, even Tiger Wood sef no be wood”, the mad boy hollered and winked at his accomplice.

    “Okon, what is all this nonsense”, snooper charged.

    “Oga no be nonsense. Na pammy now and you know say na Palm Sunday”, the wicked boy sneered.

    “So, where did you get all this palm wine from when you are not a tapper?”

    “Ha oga dat one easy. As dem militant dey chase police for Majidun bush, gbuam, gbuam na him palm wine man come pick race na him I come take wine for protected custody”, the mad boy snorted. Sensing that the Okon may also take his master into protective custody, snooper held rapid conversation with his legs.

    A week later on Easter day, the mad boy had dramatically raised the stakes. As he was approaching the kitchen, snooper saw Okon and Baba Lekki scrambling away with Okon’s mouth swollen in gluttony.

    “Okon, what is that in your mouth?” snooper called out.

    “The boy him get menu-gitis”, Baba Lekki crowed.

    “I am not talking to you stupid old man”, snooper screamed. By this time snooper had reached the kitchen only to find the place littered with egg shells. By which time, Okon had also recovered the initiative.

    “Oga na poached egg for Easter. Abi no be so dem dey do for England?” the crazy boy snorted.

    “I hope this is not from my kitchen” snooper shouted.

    “If he be poached egg where him go come from?” Okon demanded.

    “Poached egg is poached egg, abi you no go school?” Baba Lekki sniggered as he dragged Okon out into the street singing and dancing. Happy Easter to you all.

  • Okon is upstaged by Baba Lekki

    Still basking in the false glory of being appointed Commander of the order of Good Values by a rogue organisation, Okon has become totally impossible to handle. Even in the kitchen, he insists on wearing the insignia of the Commander of the Order of Good Values (COGV) like a talisman to ward off the heat.

    Snooper was quietly enjoying the spectacle of a whole commander cooking for him when the mad Calabar boy erupted in a furious counter offensive. After a short visit home to celebrate his award, the crazy rogue sidled up to snooper one fine morning.

    “Oga,”, Okon began as he eyed his boss with mirth and relish. “As I don become important man for Lagos, my people say make I look for good person who go write my life tory with better grammar. I come tell dem say na you be the person, and dem come gree.”

    “May god punish you and your stupid people”, I screamed at him as I aimed a big book at his coconut skull. The interview proper with the feisty television station was pure dynamite with Okon in his roguish and inflammatory elements. Accompanied by a pole-hugging drunk Baba Lekki who was quite a sight in his kembe pants and abetiaja cap, it was clear that the duo had come to bury the system and not to praise it.

    The interview almost never got off the ground as the drunken old man, with ancient martial swagger, insisted on reading “ a take-over speech”, because “dem yeye soldier boys don take over for Guinea worm again”. It took heavy remonstration and a look in by security boys to dissuade the old crook. Thereafter, the old man fell into a deep slumber, snoring and revving like a decrepit trailer going up a steep hill. Okon eyed the moribund pile with savage relish and snorted, “Burukutu don finish baba.”

    The interview began cautiously, with each side probing for the other’s soft underbelly. “First, we will like to congratulate you on your recent award. It was a honour richly deserved”, the leading man opened with much civility and good breeding, and a syrupy smile to match.

    “Point of incorrect!!” Okon thundered. “Dem rich people no deserve honor. I no be like dem yeye people. I no dey sell sugar, I no dey sell oil. Na bushmeat Okon dey sell. And even dat one dem come finish me for Obodo.”

    “Okay, okay. Congrats on your great award”, the poor chap corrected.

    “Hen, hen, na dat one you for say. But my brother see me see trouble. See how dem Yibo people dey rush go APC as dem Yoruba people dey rush come out after dem mala don hammer dem finish. And dem both say dem sabi book pass mala “. Okon noted with a miserable mien. Baba Lekki turned on his side.

    “Na Yoruba people no get common sense. Ibo man don smell bush meat and human pepper soup. Tree trunk no fit become crocodile because he don tey for water”, Baba Lekki rumbled and let out a leonine yawn.

    “Baba, shut up. Dis one no be burukutu conference with dem ganja people for Okoko”, Okon snarled, making a threatening advance.

    “Okay, mo tigbo”, Baba moaned and fell back asleep even as he complained of being hard pressed by nature.

    “Sir, what is your take on the state of the nation?” the second interviewer asked with quiet polish.

    “I no take am at all. Dem get thirty six states but no nation. When oil money don finish patapata everybody go pick race for dem obodo. As Fela come say, na beasts of no nation dey rule una”, Okon snapped.

    “If you are so critical, what is the way out?” the lady asked with sweet bewilderment.

    “Dat one na yeye question. He get as he be for obodo Nigeria. You see when two dogs come lock after dem fire demsefs finish dem go drag each other around so tey until dem Kaput or until god come release dem. Sebi you sabi wetin I dey talk about?” Okon asked the lady with wild relish as she squirmed with embarrassment. Everybody started laughing, including Baba Lekki, who was now eyeing the proceeding with a sleepy stare.

    “Kai kai wonna shege yaro ne”, Baba muttered, lapsing into corrupt Hausa.

    “Sir, how do you see this Shehu Sani and el-Rufai palaver?” the second interviewer asked. But before Okon could answer the question, Baba Lekki crawled forward.

    “Let me answer that one. El-Rufai is a fugitive offender while Sani is an offending fugitive”, Baba Lekki screamed at the top of his voice.

    “Don’t listen to baba. I don tell una say him head no correct at all”, Okon snapped as he beheld Baba with amused contempt.

    “But since he appears to know so much, let us ask him the final question”, the sweet lady proposed with angelic innocence. On that note, Baba Lekki rose to his full height and assumed a professorial frown even as he eyed everybody with donnish disdain.

    “No, no no. I don’t take part in this kind of nonsense”, the old hell raiser began with perfect Queen’s diction. “This is bourgeois disquisition of no consequence to the suffering masses, full of prevarications and pusillanimous pomposities”. He had begun to wet the floor in full public glare. Pandemonium quickly followed and the station went off the air. Okon escaped through the backdoor.

     

  • Baba Lekki solves restructure riddle for the nation

    A propos of the saying that unhappy nations are not alike in their unhappiness, it is meet to report our finding that all unhappy cooks and drivers are alike. As the Air Force jets pounded the western creeks and impounded the crooks, Okon wore a sad and dejected mien. His illicit oil and “disel” business having evaporated in a fiery bonfire, Okon was a distraught and disconsolate sight to behold. Snooper pressed advantage.

    “Oga Okon how market now?” yours sincerely taunted the crazy boy.

    “Oga, monkey don go market and him never return, oil and gas don become yell and gasp”, the mad boy rejoined with a bitter grin.

    “Alagba, don’t mind the yeye boy. Arepo don become Aorepo. As dem Yoruba people dey say, Adegun don become Adeogun”, Baba Lekki intoned with malicious gusto.

    “Baba at your age, I don tell una make you no follow dem military monkey chop bush”, Okon countered with an irate frown.

    “Ah you see yeye boy? Dem thin wey drive monkey come climb palm tree, him still dey wait for monkey below”,  Baba Lekki sneered.

    “You see dem Yoruba people?” Okon screamed. “You dey steal our oil blocks and when we come do our own oil block for Arepo, katakata come burst. Dem plane come dey spit fire. No be dem reason why we say make dem restructure dem useless kontri be dis?” Okon bitterly lamented.

    “Ha Okon restructure ke? Wetin you dey restructure?  You don join dem foolish bukuru people? You see when dem Ibrahim Baba Igida say him wan do adjustment for economy structure, I come ask am wey dem structure him wan adjust. If structure no dey, so wetin you wan restructure?. Dat one na intellectual misnomer and dem vulcanizer’s hot air. Dem thing to do na to destructure, make dem remove dem no-structure nonsense and replace am patapata.” The old contrarian volunteered.

    “Baba, if una sabi dis much grammar, why you no dey practice dem law for court?” Okon snorted.

    “Foolish boy, I don tell you say dem deport me from dem London Inn for two fighting. I come trek to Las Palmas. Each time I go court and I tell dem say I get am for Inter BL with dem LL. B in view dem dey ask police make dem finish me….”

    It was at this point that some hooded men with the insignia of a dreaded local militia campaigning for self-determination came in looking for Okon. The crazy boy vamoosed like a walnut spirit.

  • Okon and Baba Lekki in phone-in drama

    AS the House of Representatives finally unravels in a smouldering inferno of truly outlandish scams, snooper has been assembling a team of crack editorialists to pen the political obituary of the leading figures of the upper and lower chambers. But you must trust Okon and his ancient collaborator to take a dimmer view of developments in the country. After being invited to take part in a phone-in programme by a popular radio station, the rebel duo have been running subversive commentaries about the state of the nation until the D-day.
    Hostilities began as soon as they walked in and Okon accosted the beautiful lady moderator with a lewd stare.
    “Bia nwannem maranma. No be you I been dey see for Okota before before?”, the mad boy crowed. But the gamely lady had a full measure of her man and gave it back to the rogue.
    “Mr Okon, we know you are a boastful efulefu. Just get on with it!!” the lady shot back with a prim smile.
    “Ha my sister, no vex. You know say man no be wood. Even Tiger Wood sef no be wood”, a half-contrite Okon whimpered to the raucous delight of the audience. An irate caller opened proceedings.
    “Okon, where are we going gan gan in this country? I want to know?” the angry man hollered. With a self-important swagger, Okon adjusted his resource control cap and began to ventilate.
    “You see my brother dem country be like when towing vehicle dey tow towing vehicle and him come tumble and catch fire for Third Mainland and katakata come burst. Override come override Overdrive. Fire come kill driver. Conductor come jump inside lagoon”, the mad boy sniggered as his lips parted in a sadistic grin.
    “What is your take on Baba’s statement that most members of the house are thieves?” a caller from Mushin demanded in an imperious tone.
    “As for dat one, na baba’s goat dey chop baba’s corn ooo”, Okon sneered. It was at this point that Baba Lekki, in a deranged burst of energy, began a savage parody of a famous Yoruba ditty about the immutable law of self-cloning.
    Omo o le jo baba kama binu omo, aiyee le
    Moni eniarebu yi jo baba e ju
    Omo o le jo baba kama binu omo.
    As the old crook cantered and capered to his own music sending the audience into rapture, it was another angry caller who stopped him in his track.
    “You this yeye old man. You are dancing like a fool when some stupid so called militants are still holding on to that Yoruba Oba from Iba.” The man growled like an angry bear. Baba Lekki sat down like a punctured balloon.
    “You see my brother. Dat one na case of juju get accident. Na dem female traitor inside palace who come phone dem militants say make dem dey come as baba don remove him ibante. (Yoruba underwear made of charms) Na the reason why dem capture baba like fowl be dat,” Baba Lekki grunted.
    “Baba I been dey surprise say small boy yab you like dat and you come dey shiver like dem Obudu monkey. Abi juju don get accident again?”, Okon sneered.
    “Okon, leave the fool. No be the same day small pikin abuse Iroko dat dem thunder go strike him and him mama”, the old man noted as he began rubbing his palms together with satanic relish. It was at this point that crackling gun fire from approaching militants sent everybody scampering for safety.

  • Baba Lekki turns the table on one chance boys

    In the darkest entrails of the sprawling megacity, a cannibal ethos prevails. You either kill or you get killed. It is as simple as that.  Autochthon savages from outlying primitive enclaves and the last redoubts of Early Man in Africa finally overran the famed metropolis. Despite the bravest efforts of the law enforcement agencies, they held sway in the swampy outreach of the beleaguered city from where they spread their reign of primitive terror via the inner ghettoes to the glittering landmarks of African modernity.

    But help is finally on the way from traditional quarters. Where modern policing falters, African magic comes to the rescue. Snooper never gave a chance to General Obasanjo’s famed formula for dislodging apartheid from South Africa until recently. At this rate, it may well be the old magus from ancient Owu who may yet have the last laugh over this matter of pre-colonial hostilities.

    As usual with the freeloading contrarian, Baba Lekki had boarded a mass transit “danfo” bus at Oshodi after an all night carousal with the intention of linking up with Okon at Freedom Park. But the one chance boys had other ideas.

    The old savant sensed major trouble once he entered the bus and was immediately hemmed in by two burly ruffians who looked like characters from the outer margins of hell. As soon as the rickety bus flew past the Ikorodu Road loop without making a detour, Baba Lekki knew that he was in for a hard time.

    “Awusu billahi!!!” the old codger grunted in a gesture of false religious outrage. A lady who had been monitoring the awful developments with trepidation suddenly screamed.

    “Driver, na Ojota I say I dey go!! I no dey go dem Oworo”, she wailed.

    “Shut up. Whether na Ojota or na Oguta, you don reach Golgotha”, the driver jeered.

    “Bring out all your phones, money and ATM cards”, one of the thugs shouted. Everybody started complying in fright. When it came to Baba Lekki’s turn, the old rebel brought out an ancient pen and pre-historic reading glasses.

    “Wetin be dis yeye nonsense? Stupid old man, if you dey joke, make you stop am”, the mad ruffian screamed as everybody cowered in terror.

    “I no get phone, but I get Kalamu and Molubi”—ancient Yoruba words for pen and glasses— the old contrarian whimpered .

    “Bad Fish, wetin the old Yoruba fool dey say? Giam one dirty slap for me.” The driver ordered. As the impudent fellow made to comply, Baba Lekki sprang with surprising agility and the hand froze in mid-air. “Eeeeewo! Aisiwo lumi. Igbe o l’egun sugbon enite gbodo tiro”, the old man burst into torrid incantation.

    “Chairman, I no fit bring down dem hand again”, the foolish fellow whimpered. At this point, one of the burly ruffians hemming the old man attempted to twist his right hand from behind, but remembering the tricks he had learnt from  Alimi Yopayopa, the famed Ibadan magician, Baba Lekki puffed like an adder and the hand came off  clean from the shoulder joint.

    “Oga, oga him hand dey my hand, him hand dey for my hand!!!”, the poor fellow cried and began pissing in his trousers.

    “Idiot, give me back that hand now now”, Baba Lekki thundered, grabbed his hand and put it back without any effort. At this point, the driver who had been monitoring the weird drama through the mirror suddenly brought the bus to a screeching halt.

    “Baba, we no dey go again”, the hooligan stammered, shivering with fright and premonition.

    “But me I dey go!” Baba Lekki thundered.

    “Where you dey go sir make we drop you?” the crook mumbled disjointedly.

    “I dey go meet Oduduwa. I get meeting with dem Oranmiyan, dem Agboniregun, dem Ogedengbe, dem Lisabi Agbongbon, dem Basorun Ogunmola and dem Balogun Ogunsigi. This nonsense must stop immediately. Make you come chop no be say make you come chop off our head”, the old man growled. At this point, the driver and his criminal accomplices jumped out of the bus and fled in different directions.

     

  • Baba Lekki tackles Panama palaver

    Ever since the release of the Panama papers and the exposure of the global web of corruption, Okon has been huffing and puffing while threatening to bring the entire political system of the civilized world to perdition for unseemly corruption. He has been running wild and subversive commentary about our local rulers and snooper was just about to declare a fatwa on the mad boy when his mentor suddenly materialized smelling like a walnut spirit.

    “Baba, I know say Oyinbodey corrupt too, but dis one pass me. Oyinbo man come thief money finis oo”, the mad boy chortled obviously delighted to see Baba Lekki.

    “Okon, nadat one demdey call osegudugudumeje, yayamefa”, the old crook crooned.

    “Baba wetindey wrong with demOwu baba sef? He come dey jump up and down and dey dance with anybody and anything. Even pole sef he fit dance with. Wetindey worry am? Sebidem Panama people never offload him own file?” the crazy boy crowed.

    “No be Panama, naHarlibutondey worry dat one”, Baba Lekki whispered with relish.

    “Baba you mean say dem don remove Ali dem button again for Agege?” Okon shouted.

    “Okon you are a fool”, Baba Lekki began with hooting laughter. “He get as dat one be. But Panama na dangerous business for Kukuruku boy oo. Dem don name one ogbologbo soldier who no sabi fear or fear bullet. So Panama napanumoooo”, the old crook concluded.

    “Baba, wetinbepanumoagain for Yoruba?”Okon demanded.

    “Panumomeans shut your mouth. But he get better word and dat one napatanmo” the old man squeaked.

    “Baba, you don come again? Wetin be patama?” Okon demanded.

    “He mean say shut your legs. Na one Yoruba plant like dat. When dem Yoruba wizards command am him go begin to fold up. So Okon shut your legs oo”, Baba Lekki whimpered.

    “Baba what if I no shut dem leg?” Okon queried.

    “Then dem go shoot your blokos, period”, Baba Lekki snarled.

    “ Haba, baba make dem no do dat one. Na de only thin I get be dat one. Na imdey make Lagos women fear man. But baba, wetindem Yoruba dey callpana-pana?”

    “Ha ha that’s it. You finally got it.” the old crook screamed and jumped up in excitement.”Pana-panana fire brigade. So na fire brigade approach demdey use. Dem go kill fire here and fire go start again over there until demfire quenchdem fireman.”

  • Baba Lekki and Okon solve another national riddle

    As the Ese Oruro and “Yellow” Yunusa amatorial imbroglio continues to divide the nation along religious and cultural lines, Baba Lekki has been conducting a scientific inquiry into the subject with professorial solemnity. Okon had caught up with the old Marxian contrarian virtually naked under a tree at Okokomaiko complaining about the scalding heat even as smoke belched out from his massive pipe.

    “Baba, na dis gbana go kill you. Old man like you dey smoke like dem area boys for Campos”, the crazy boy shot at the old man.

    “Ha Okon he get as he be. Dis one na better hemp from Mokore in Area Five. Wall no dey fear fire. As dem Yoruba people dey say, make we dey get use to fire because of hell.” The old crook sniggered and burst into a deranged hiccup.

    “Baba make we get serious. He be like if say dis dem fine Yellow Yunusa boy, na for jail he go do wolima with dem Ese girl. At this point, the crazy old man stood up and began to sing an old Yoruba Muslim wedding ditty.

       Baaadaraimo, baadaraimo

       Aboniyawo seyawo

       Hun…. badaraimo.

    “Baba, he be like if say dis gbana don scatter your head patapata”, Okon crowed as he eyed the dancing delinquent dotard with mirth and affected disdain. The old man sat down and eyed Okon with a scholarly frown as he switched to flawless Queen’s English.

    “Okon, I am very much ashamed to be in this company. Nigerians are an idle and unthinking lot. What is happening is the religious mystification of economic poverty, period”, the old man noted.

    “Gbuaaaa!!” Okon screamed with feigned indignation. “Baba dis grammar too much. I know say you dey cram dem dishionary, but Okon na illostrate”.

    “You see Okon”, the old man began with a worried mien. “Those poor children ought to be in school. This is how we perpetuate poverty. Why is a so called eighteen year old boy only thinking of marriage when he should be in school? And why is the girl also not in school? This is what we have been telling these people. It is marriage as modern slavery which leads to endemic poverty. The two juveniles are victims of an evil system. The charge should be amended to read, State Delinquency versus Juvenile Delinquency”, the stoned sage concluded.

    “Baba in dat case equation don balance becos as dem mala people dey wire small girls old Yoruba women also dey wire small pikins. He get time like dat when I dey live as young boy for Mushin and he get one fat old Yoruba woman who go dey call me, “oko mi, oko mi”. So I come ask wetin “oko mi” dey mean sef and dem say na my husband. Naim I come pick race kia kia”.

    “Okon go away. You are a fool. I deal in facts and not palm wine bar gossip”, the old man said as he chased away the crazy fellow,

  • As Metuh trumps Taiwan shredder, Baba Lekki sings Kusimilaya

    These are definitely interesting times in Nigeria, with outlandish revelations about state larceny followed by even more outlandish revelations. No one knows who is going to be “outed” next. It is a grand parade of fallen idols of the tribe. You never know what will do it for you, whether it is unreceipted free lunch or a casual bulge under flowing agbada robes after a chance meeting which you never know was being faithfully videoed.  In order to forestall any untoward eventuality, snooper sent Okon to the market to buy a strong and durable shredder.

    The crazy boy had hardly departed when Baba Lekki took up position blabbing insensate nonsense while waiting for his juvenile accomplice.

    “Ina dogo?” the crazy old man began with a savage sneer. “You mean say dem Buhari man go try all dem old people, Tanko Yakassai, Mr Fix am and dem Yoruba chief? Dem mortuary go get work ooo”.

    “Listen, I am not a politician, I am a policy analyst”, snooper snapped in utter irritation.

    “ Weeereeee!!!”, the crazy old man screamed as he jumped at snooper. “Policy ko, publicity ni. If you no be politician why you dey send for shredder? Wo, waa gbaa !” Before snooper could regain his composure, the ancient agitator began singing a cruel parody of an old classic.

    Mori baba kan t’onjo, kusimilaya

    Ewa woran mi male gboju mi oo

    Biosi t’ewon to duro mba ba baba yen lo oo

    Mori baba kan t’onjo kusimilaya .

    It was at this point that Okon barged in without any shredder or shred of truth.

    “And you, what happened, where is the shredder?” snooper demanded angrily.

    “Ah oga dem Ibo trader come ask whether na Metuh or Taiwan shredder you want”, Okon replied with a sadistic grin.

    “And what is that supposed to mean?” snooper shouted.

    “Oga no vex. As dem come explain, Metuh na man and Taiwan na machine. But where dem Metuh man dey whack ten sheets of paper per minute dem Taiwan machine dey manage only two. So na market be dat”, Okon explained.

    “Kai, kai Okon, na dat one dem Yoruba people dey call Gbetu-gbetu”, the old contrarian snorted as he dragged the crazy boy away.

  • Baba Lekki propounds a Neo-Biafran theory

    As the entire length and breadth of the Eastern part of the country is convulsed by agitations for a new state of Biafra, tongues are beginning to wag about the real motives( and motivation) of the protesters. Not a few people are worried that should things get out of hand, there may soon be a bloody confrontation between the agitators and a determined military authority that has vowed to crush all threats to national security with maximum force.

    Originally thought to be a fringe group looking for attention and led by a metropolitan smart aleck and out of work con-man called Nnamdi Kanu, it has gathered tremendous strength and momentum in the past few weeks as the nation sinks deeper into an economic quagmire. The dire economic straits that the nation has found itself has proved a fertile recruiting ground for unemployed urchins and many disaffected nationals who see a forcible dissolution of the Nigerian union as the only route to self-determination.  IPOB has supplanted MASSOB for now.

    It was a worried Okon that went in search of Baba Lekki who had relocated to Papa Ajao. The old man was in fine fettle and gamey mischief.

    “Kukuruku boy. You can see that I am moving in the right direction, towards the airport in case yanponyanrin come burst for obodo”, the old man crowed with savage delight.

    “Ha baba, dis one no be laughing matter. Dem useless Kanu boy don come again. The last time for one-million march I supply am with container full of dem Ibo people and him no pay”, Okon opened.

    “Okon, you are a fool, no be dat Kanu and dis one no be one million march na twenty three million. Katakata don dey come small small.”

    “Baba, wetin dem want dis time abi na so so fight?”

    “Na dem Yoruba fit explain dat one. Dem say name be destiny. As dem boy dey bear Kanu the problem be say Ko kanu. In Yoruba, he mean say food dey but he no dey enough. Appetite don whet pass saliva”, the old man sneered.

    “Baba, wetin go happen if dem Buhari general come hammer dem people?” Okon demanded.

    “Okon na dem name go explain dat one again. Na dat one dem Yoruba people dey call Kanuko, or shut your mouth. Na mechonu for Ibo “.  With that, the old man dismissed the poor boy.

  • Baba Lekki dabbles in political astrology

    Day after President Buhari announced his much anticipated cabinet; Baba Lekki buried himself deep in sand at Sand grouse market. With his blistered legs sticking out of the mass of white sand, the old rebel was quite a sight. Many concluded that he was probably a holy savant having an out of body experience. It was here that Okon caught up with him on the third day.  The impish clown eyed the glum-faced mystic with cynical glee.

    “Baba, how far and how market? How many fools you don fool?” the crazy boy crowed.

    “Okon, this is not the time for illiterates and ogberi like you”, the old man snapped.

    “Baba no vex oo, but how dis dem Buhari cabinet? He be like if say dem  Yoruba juju dey work dis time”, the mad boy sniggered.

    “You see”, the old man began with a scholarly frown, “there is a critical misalignment of astral signals between some nominees and portfolios. I see a cabinet shake up very soon”.

    “Baba, all that na gbarogudu grammar. Alignment na vulcaniser work. You mean say portfolio no get portmanteau and portmanteau no get portfolio? “ the mad boy yelled.

    “Okon, na portmanteau no contain portfolio, but he get as he be”, the old man snorted.

    “Baba, in dat case make dem Buhari man name dem Okon minister without portmanteau. When my mama run comot with dem Ibo man, he come leave him portmanteau. I fit go carry dat one from dem Itigidi village”, the crazy boy hollered.

    “Okon, na dat one dem Soyinka man dey call ope  ra wonyonsi”, the old man retorted.

    It was at this point that the old man vanished without a trace as some jubilating urchins approached.