The Nation Newspaper

Tag: Okon

  • Okon sends Dariye off with detergent as Baba Lekki celebrates Mama Ewa

    With Joshua Bichi Dariye kissing the judicial canvas after being poleaxed by the relentless and implacable Justice Banjoko, the list of executive convicts appears to be lengthening. There are reports that some of the prospective prisoners are considering fleeing into exile or some more terminal form of self-deportation.

    Jeez!!!! Does anybody remember a legendary Lagos magistrate of the sixties known for his zero tolerance for criminality and social misdemeanour?  Magistrate Ogunmuyiwa, aka Baba Ewa, was a dreaded scourge of criminals and social deviants. Any minor infraction invited maximum penalty.His nickname probably came from the fact that black beans was the staple diet of prisoners in those days, and Baba Ewa piled it up on them.

    According to Baba Lekki, Baba Ewa has resurrected in Abuja to drive the fear of the lord into state criminals. To protect Mama Ewa, Baba Lekki has been consulting some crack herbalists for the charm of amuniti. As usual, Okon has been in the thick of things, berating the government for not being punitively proactive. The morning after Dariye was convicted, the crazy boy barged in waving a copy of a daily which captured the former governor heaving and sobbing after the law finally caught up with him.

    “Oga dis go serve as dem detergent to all the crooks and criminals”, the mad boy screamed. Snooper noticed the grammatical howler but chose not to correct in case it might encourage the mad boy.

    “But oga see dem yeye government, when you wan praise dem for better thing dem go do dem Abasha again. Why dem dey close border against rice. No be against them politicians dem for close border. I hear say one of dem dey dig tunnel from Shaki to Kutonu. Kai dis Yoruba people sef!!!”

    “Okon, leave me alone. I am not interested”, snooper snapped. But rather than dissuading the mad boy, it actually encouraged him to inch closer.

    “Oga I no say na becos of that una fat friend who dey come thief my soup after him wife don beat am finish. I wan make dem Abuja woman giam two hundred years as detergent”, the mad boy said and stormed away.

  • Okon is overthrown by snakes

    These are serpentine times in the nation. Slithering creeps abound everywhere. They climb all skyscrapers and burrow in all man-made crevices. They lurk in the most private chambers and luxuriate in the most public of places. It was not long ago when it was reported that the slimy reptiles had invaded the presidential office, forcing the occupant to adjourn presidential proceedings till further notice. Not since Camara Laye’s The Radiance of the King where a huge snake was sighted making torrid love to an old woman had such dark and morbid imaginings seized control of a society.

    As absurdities mount upon absurdities in this country, as darker comedies supplant dark comedies, you begin to wonder how it will all end. How will future writers describe this period?  How will future satirists portray a society where snakes steal money from humans? From the Garden of Eden to the Gathering of Pythons?

    As soon as it was reported that executive snakes had swallowed proceeds from scratch cards bought by JAMB candidates, there had been a dramatic rise in incidents of snake bites all over the country.  Adverts suddenly went up in newspapers requesting for the services of snake charmers. In a remarkable case of reality beating fiction at its own game, a serving senator was reported to have invaded JAMB office with a retinue of crack snake charmers ready to charm human snakes and snaky humans. The borderline between fictional reality and realistic fiction has evaporated in Nigeria.

    As it is to be expected, Okon has been in the thick of action, gathering dangerous snakes from every nook and cranny of the nation and keeping them in a humongous iron cage inside the abandoned garage which he called a “safe house”. Every morning, the mad boy would begin by berating and lambasting all the snakes asking the culprit among them to confess, failing which they all would face mass execution. He had even brought in a man called Baba Tonkere who is reputed to be the most fearsome snake charmer in the whole country to facilitate confession and possible plea-bargaining among the snakes.

    “I been dey do JAMB for twenty years now, I never sabi say after snake don swallow my money na fake result dem dey give Okon. I don cram dem Soyinka man from head to toe, but each time dem fat crooks dey tell man say I know make cut off mark, so na today today I go cut off your yeye head”, Okon screamed at the terrified snakes.

    On Friday, the whole compound erupted in massive commotion. Yours sincerely woke up to phenomenal hisses and distressed whistling coming from Okon’s safe house. A revolt of snakes, or more properly a coup among serpents, appeared to be underway. The snakes, led by a vicious viper, were trying to break loose from the safe house. Snooper opened the shutter from his bedroom and there was Okon trying to whip the viper back into the cage with an iron staff as Baba Lekki hobbled about in senile ecstasy.

    “Okon, Okon, where is Baba Tonkere?” snooper shouted at the mad boy.

    “Ha oga, dat one be like dem case of baba don catch fire and you dey ask for him beard. Dem mad cobra come bite him blokos and he come run comot Lagos quick, quick shouting Ledumare, ledumare!” the mad boy retorted with a sadistic grin.

    “Snake come kaput and snake charmer don kaput. No case submission. Na dat one dem Yoruba people dey call amodemaja, when you capture hunter and him dog together”, Baba Lekki sneered and burst into a sadistic laugh.

    “Oga, no mind baba oo, him head no correct again. Him dey cry since dem court finish dem for the Oba wahala for Ibadan. Him wan become local oba”, Okon sniggered.

    “God forbid that one. I am Lambert Alekuso, the Elegiri of Agbadagbudu, Bada of Mokore, Ikolaba of….”  It was at this point that a strange overconfidence led Okon to a fatal error of judgement. The vicious viper broke through the iron cage and all hell was let loose with Okon and the deranged old man taking to their heels as wild snakes overran the compound.

     

  • Okon is man of the year

    All hell has been let loose since a loony organisation calling itself Society for the Promotion of Good Values named Okon as their man of the year. Before the letter arrived, Okon has arranged for it to be framed by a local Efik photographer known as Edem Rainbow Edem. Rainbow usually arrived with an old-fashioned camera set on an ancient tripod, bowing supinely and beaming gratuitous smiles at everybody. In his cowboy hat and ill-fitting grey suit with white shoes to match, he was quite a sight in the vicinity. At a point, the entire household was taken over by ethnic Efiks smelling of aromatic Schnapps and periwinkles. At this point, snooper cursed the day he recruited the mad Calabar boy as cook.

    On the day of the investiture, the whole house looked like a mini Jamestown with Efik exotica all over the place. There was a particularly uppity septuagenarian attorney looking very much like Olauidah Equaino. It was like a human museum of colonial Calabar. The proper investiture almost never got underway as Okon stormed snooper’s room in the early hours of the morning fuming and complaining. The letter read; “We request the company of Okon….”

    “Oga dem yeye people be 419 people. Dem no say I no get company. Which kind company nonsense be dat one? If I be Yoruba man dem go ask make I go get company?” Okon screamed.

    “Okon, they are simply inviting you. Illiteracy is a disease,” snooper said, smiling.

    “Oga dem see you there with your bukuru and dem no fit give you award”, the mad boy retorted sharply and saucily as he stormed out. Soon afterwards, the television people arrived to interview Okon who was by then leglessly drunk. It was at this point that he was joined by Baba Lekki who had just been released from police custody without any charges being preferred against him. It was a scene out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. (Watch Out for Full Interview.)

     

    • ( First published in December, 2007.)

  • Okon publishes his own obituary

    The year has taken off with dangerous excitement and political portents.  While living people are collapsing and dying on petrol queues, dead people are resurrecting as Board Chairmen. With a gruesome partiality for macabre metaphor, Baba Lekki had dismissed the Federal board list as an example of political necrophilia so beloved of political sadists and sadomasochists. In Yoruba parlance, when living men tangle with masquerades, it is no longer possible to separate live limbs from dead torsos.

    On Friday morning, as the airwaves filled with news of fresh decapitations by herdsmen, Okon sauntered into the living room brimming with jaunty self-confidence.

    “Oga, he good say you don wake sef. I wan quickly reach dem Nation paper make I pay them make dem publish my obituary”, the mad boy announced with glorious self-belief.  Snooper took a deep look at the crazy boy.

    “Are you dead?” snooper asked in alarm, as he tried to figure out the scam.

    “Ah oga, no be like dat at all. Dem Abuja APZ boys say when dem publish obituary say I don quench dem go make me Board Chair”, Okon recounted.

    “Oh my God!!!”, snooper screamed before realising that Okon might be setting him up.

    “Oga, leave Oga Jesus out of dis one ooo,” the crazy boy crooned.

    “So, chairman, when is your inauguration?” snooper demanded with a merry frown.

    “I no go die first? You see na step by step, die first and dine  after”, the boy retorted.

    “Oh my God!!! This country is a huge racket”, snooper exploded in huge mirth.

    “You see Oga, dis one no be matter of racket. Everybody dey do am. He get one Yoruba man who don die like dat and him name dey list. So as him wife dey cry and she come mention board list, dem coffin come dey do gbigigbigi and ogbologbo Yoruba man come jump out”, the mad boy crowed rolling on the floor with mirth.

    “So what happened?” snooper demanded.

    “Ah oga, na cunny man no die, cunny man no bury am. Dem Abuja people say make him produce obituary. Abi if you say you don die before before and you no die again, wey your obituary? Naim dead man say him go kill himself again! “ Okon said as the mad boy convulsed with laughter.

    “Okon, how come many PDP people and non-party men are on the list?” snooper asked.

    “Ha oga, politics na chop make I chop. Pounded yam and egusi soup no dey wear party label”, the mad boy concluded with native wisdom.

     

     

  • Okon forms c with Baba Lekki

    (An old classic from the Okon chapbook.)

    As the presidential sweepstake stalemates into a geopolitical duel, political incontinence and foul distemper has taken over the land. Okon has been adding fillips to the disorder in his own unique ways. When he is not running abusive commentaries about the political elite, he is busy excoriating the major ethnic groups for bringing Nigeria into disrepute.

    One sultry afternoon, Okon stormed out of the house after a heated exchange with Mama Igosun vowing to form his own party. He had asked the tough matriarch which party she would vote for in the coming election.

    “Mabolaje Grand Alliance”, the old woman replied with a frown.

    “Mafoluku abi wetin you call am?  Which kind Yoruba Secret Society be dat one again? Abi na fuku dis mama think dem dey chop for party?”, Okon snorted.

    “Na your papa dey Mafoluku. Na dem party of dem Adelabu, dem Akinbiyi and dem Akinloye. Abi no be dem Gbomogbomo (kidnappers) party your kobokobo people dey do for Ikot Olosi?” Mama snarled, eyeing the mad boy with angry disdain.

    “Chei! Dem dead Yoruba troublemakers again! Nigeria don kaput.” Okon lamented bitterly.

    “Wo tinba la orogun yi mo e lori waagba”, Mama cursed and charged at the mad boy.

    You can then imagine snooper’s consternation when the half-crazed dustbin woman charged breathlessly into the sitting room to announce that Okon was on television fielding questions. And lo there was the crazy one dressed like a resource control chieftain running rings round everybody.

    “Etubom Okon, thanks for coming again. It takes a lot of courage. It…” the adorable lady interviewer opened.

    “See me see trouble ooo. I never come once and you don dey say again. Let me tell una, dis yeye thin no dey take courage at all”, Okon retorted with devilish hoopla. The poor girl squirmed in embarrassment. At this point, Baba Lekki staggered in thoroughly drenched with incontinence reeking of cheap illicit gin and shivering like a rain-beaten chicken. Okon took a scornful look at the human fiasco and burst into deranged laughter.

    “You see, make una throway salute for baba oo. Him dey come from Ikorodu Island. Him come reach Majidun by boat and him come swim the rest,” the mad boy crowed.

    “What is your name sir?” the other lady asked Baba Lekki.

    “I am Lambert Adesokan, the Elegiri of Alekuso, Inter-LLB”, Baba replied promptly.

    “Sir as they say, let charity begin at home..” the first lady began.

    “Ah dem Ibo girl again! Dem Charity be dem Ibo girl wey im papa dey wire. When dem ask Ibo man why him dey wire him own daughter him come reply say Charity must to begin at home”, Okon sneered.  The interviewers ignored the mad boy.

    “Sir, what is the name of your party?” one of them asked baba.

    “CAN. Comedians Association of Nigeria.” Baba replied.

    “What is your motto?”

    “Toyota Landcruiser”, Okon jumped in again and was ignored.

    “And where is your party manifesto?” one of the lady’s asked sniffily and prettily.

    “Nonsense. I don’t do bourgeois chicanery. A people’s party needs no manifesto. The educators need to be properly educated”, Baba Lekki spat in perfect English.

    “Sir, what is your view of MEND?”

    “MEND na emendation, so one mend equals ten emendations”, Baba growled.

    “Come no be dem Okah boy com drive Babangida from dem Dodan before, before?” Okon screamed. At this point, the station succumbed to a massive power cut.

     

  • Okon seconds Secondus

    Okon seconds Secondus

    As the Christmas season finally got underway, birds of unusual plumage have been sighted at the old Western front. Some of these birds are strange and surreal indeed. Whether they are birds of passage, transiting to a new habitat and lazing about in the process, or new avian monstrosities bent on further upturning the delicate eco-political equilibrium obtaining in the country remains to be seen.

    Since the last PDP Convention when the western armada appeared to have been routed by a coalition put together by some forces bent on calling the  South-West bluff, Okon has been running subversive anti- Yoruba commentary and gloating over the fate of a region once considered to be the most politically sophisticated in the conglomeration.

    “You see, Okon dis na why I tell dem Obasanjo man make him no leave him Yoruba people for dem PDP hyenas like dat. See how dem come pieces dem and come tear dem to death like dat like dem Orile Agege fowls “, Baba Lekki moaned.

    “Kai kai baba, na real katakata for Abuja. Come see for telly how dem Yoruba people with dem fat yansh and dem big belly dey roll for ground as dem come hammer dem. I come see with my korokoro ear as dem dey count dem vote, Seconder two thousand, Professor two hundred, Bode George, bakodaya, Gbenga Samuel, bakodaya, Ladoja, bakodaya, Lagbaja, bakodaya”, the crazy boy sneered.

    “Okon, you are a fool, Bode George and others withdrew before the counting”, Baba Lekki cautioned the mad boy.

    “Ha baba, no be dat one dem dey call technical knock out? After boxer don enter ring and him say him dey withdraw, dem referee must to count. If dem like make dem withdraw ten time.”, Okon jeered.

    “They say a reconciliation committee is visiting Bode and others”, Baba Lekki noted.

    “Baba, why your head no correct like dis? No be dat dem dey call panel beating after politics? Bode dey hospital. Seconder wan go finish am with him bilala. Dem say every night him go dey cry, nwoke biko, nwoke biko, Wike I say biko now. Him dey think say convention never finish. Baba kai kai, dat dem Wike na wicked pikin. He come show dem Bode man say even warder get oga for prison”, Okon sniggered.

    “I wonder why this Wike boy hate Yoruba people like this”, Baba Lekki rued.

    “Ha baba dem say na becos him dey fight one Yoruba boy dem dey call Rotimi . Dem say after Wike drive dat one comot, him dey hide inside cabinet for Abuja. How man go dey hide inside Fila, I know understand dat one, but you know say mala tira pass anything.”

    “Okon, Rotimi is not a Yoruba man. He is Nkwerre and Ibo”, Baba Lekki corrected.

    “Baba, abi burukutu don scatter your head again?  Where you don hear Ibo man dey bear Rotimi”, Okon sneered at the old man.

    “His father named him after Timi the law”, Baba Lekki replied.

    “Baba who be Timi the Law? He get one charge and bail Yoruba lawyer for Ajegunle dem dey call Jimi the lawyer. Him no get money for dem lawyer’s gown sef and him dey drive taxi for night”.

    “Okon if you don’t know Timi the law, that is evidence of weightlessness. I cannot be wasting my time with a fool like you”, Baba Lekki spat with magisterial disgust and began to walk away.

    “Come ooo, Baba “ Okon called out, “as dem don hammer Yoruba people for PDP and dem don wire dem for APC, wetin dem go do now?”

    “Okon, that is what Fela calls convulsion jam confusion. Dead body come get twin and overtake come overtake overtake”, the old contrarian whimpered as he shambled away.

  • Okon eats human beans

    Okon eats human beans

    Wonders shall never end in this country. On Friday morning after waiting in vain for breakfast, snooper was forced to knock on the door of Okon ’s bedroom where he had been holed up with his senile accomplice, Lambert Alekuso, aka Baba Lekki, failed lawyer and former Holborn Inn stalwart.

    “Okon, what is all this nonsense, and where is my breakfast?”snooper screamed.

    “Ha oga I dey eat human beings ooo”, the mad boy replied. At this point and the prospects of having a home grown cannibal, snooper’s legs began to sag under him. With human parts on sale all over the country, Okon might have decided to go native and loco. The door of the room flung open and to snooper’s relief, there was Okon and Baba Lekki huddled over a huge bowl of beans with a separate plate for the stones, pellets and fluffs of feather they had removed from the beans.

    “Oga, dis na human beans. Na the thin dem Kukuruku trader dey sell for market and na de thin we dey whack. Na owambe Yoruba people dey dance, dem no fit farm”, the mad boy snorted.

    “Ï don’t care just give me breakfast”, snooper screamed as hunger pangs seized him.

    “Oga na only alligator egg dey market. And for yam na one thing dem  call gbere”, Okon crowed.

    “Young man, it is time for the Imo formula”, Baba Lekki said, addressing snooper directly.

    “I am not talking to you crazy old man”, snooper growled.

    “Baba, oga no dey do erection like dem crazy Imo man. Dat one do erection sotey him wan do for dem Liberian woman. He don forget na only ogbologbo women dey do erection”.

    “Listen, Okon now that they say prisoners fit vote, how many prisoners dey obodo Nigeria?” Baba Lekki demanded from the mad boy.

    “Dem fit reach half a million if we add dem Boko Haram”, Okon responded.

    “You are a fool, Okon. It is one hundred and eighty million. Every four years they let them out to vote and then lock them in until the next elections”, the old contrarian thundered and stormed out, dragging Okon along as a stunned and speechless snooper watched.

  • Okon regains his freedom

    To Okokomaiko and its seedy aquatic slums on hilts where Okon is being held hostage by ethnic fishermen for allegedly bungling up the launch of IPON,  the Indigenous People of Nigeria movement. As the launch at Oribande Beach degenerated into a riotous farce in which cudgels and paddles were freely deployed, Okon was seized by irate swamp dwellers who accused him of deliberating sabotaging the launch to prevent full resource control. He was led to a safe house or safe hovel deep in the creeks. Snooper began to fear for the boy’s life.

    These are truly historic times in the country with ethnic entrepreneurs and other enterprising autochthons of balkanization ready to prise the country apart at the seams on a heady march. Once again, the country has entered uncharted waters with healthy relationship among the constituent units at its lowest ebbs since independence.

    With the north adamant about maintaining its disputed demographic dominance, with the core east reviving the old spirit of Biafra in an act of countervailing intransigence and with the west ratcheting up its sixteenth century war structure to fight a twenty first century battle, it is clear that something will have to give.

    In a brief moment of apocalyptic disorientation, there were even talks of restructuring the whole business of restructuring itself. Never in the history of humanity have a people witnessed this seminal confusion. The Tower of Babel would be a much-envied model of clarity and lucid lingo. Once again, the fat lady is about to sing.

    Just before Okon was seized by creek-dwelling hoodlums, Baba Lekki was in a jubilant mood, hobbling about in the historic melee like an untouchable Yoruba generalissimo and telling anybody who cared to listen that as far as he was concerned Okon had solved the intractable National Question. What remained was simply to firm things up.

    “ You see my people”, the crazy old man screamed. “All these useless and yeye professors blowing empty grammar about restructuring, dem don swear for dem. Okon has solved the National Question, period.”

    “And wetin concern woman period for this business? Which kind nonsense be dat one?” a testy and clearly tipsy Arogbo-Ijaw fisherman demanded in a threatening manner.

    “You see if we drive dem mala, dem gambari, dem Ibo and dem Yoruba comot for country, country go know peace. That means say national question don solve itself”, Baba Lekki crowed with drunken self-congratulation.

    “Were ni e”, the tipsy Arogbo Ijaw man began in Yoruba and then lapsed into pidgin English.” All that na wetin dem dey call nonsense correlation in Accounting. National Question is nonsense question. All we want is resource control. Just give us our oil, abi Yoruba people get problem with dat one?”  the mad man screamed as he made to smash a huge plank on Baba Lekki’s head and the old man took to his heels.

    On getting to Okoko, yours sincerely was told that Okon was released earlier in the morning to Baba Lekki and a consortium tribal elders with the stern admonition to go and sin no more. Thereafter, the mad boy was said to have proceeded on a drinking tour of duty around the creeks carried shoulder-high by a horde of urchin admirers.

  • Okon launches (IPON) and solves the National Question

    To Oribande and the sandy beach off Awoyaya where Okon is launching a new movement which he claims will put the fear of the Lord to all oppressors of the good people of Nigeria. With all quiet on the Eastern Front and with Operation Crocodile Smile putting the back of miscreants to the wall, Okon has become a poor shadow of his old ebullient self.

    “Oga, dis joke no be joke again oo. He be like if say katakata come jam kotokoto”, the mad boy guffawed with a cynical wink.

    “If you like yourself, you will stay at home”, snooper grunted with relish.

    “ Ha oga dem soldier come nab me for Agbara and dem come dey ask for dem ID”, the boy sneered.

    “So what did you tell dem?” yours sincerely demanded.

    “I tell dem say ID noble na one wicked Yoruba boy who dey live for Ikorodu. Dem come wire me well well. I come tell dem I be ghost worker, naim dem come say make I dey go. Abi ghost worker dey get ID?” the crazy boy demanded.

    Yet a few days after Nnamdi Kanu disappeared, it was a distraught and disconsolate Okon who knocked at snooper’s bedroom.

    “Ha oga, he don reach four days since dis dem Kanu boy disappeared and him tell us say him go rise after three days”, the crazy boy lamented.

    “Did he tell you he was Jesus Christ?”, snooper asked.

    “He be more than dat sef. But dat na because him head don kaput. I tell dem foolish boy say godogodo soldier no sabi even him mama but him no wan hear dat one. See how dem come pieces am like dem Oshodi fowl”, the loony lamented and left.

    On the appointed day, the whole of Oribande Beach was agog and crawling with all kinds of contrary characters: pickpockets, cut-throats, out of work petty thieves, dislodged vagabonds, dismissed cops, walkabout whakos, self-discharged sickos and other wayfaring weirdoes. It was Baba Lekki, the ultimate crackpot , who was controlling traffic, snapping and snagging at everybody like a German cross-breed dog. Okon was resplendent in resource control power dressing nicked from an absconding militant and he was smiling at everybody with beatific tipsiness.

    The fireworks started almost immediately. A small wiry fellow who claimed to be a Tapa man from Lafiagi Quarters suddenly leapt on the stage determined to put Okon to forensic sword.

    “Ogbeni Okon!”, the man began with cynicism written all over his face.

    “Point of incorrection!” Okon screamed. “I be Etubom Okon from Jamestown “ .

    “You say you want to launch IPON. Se you know what ipon means in Yoruba?” The man demanded as he ignored Okon’s menacing scowl. “Ipon means raw and thick red blood”.

    There was pin-drop silence, but Okon managed to regain his composure. “Oga Tapa”, Okon began with a derisive smile. “ I sabi say you be CID. IPON means Indigenous People of Nigeria”.

    “So that means all these Mala and Gambari people from Mali who are disturbing the peace of the land must leave?” the descendant of Nupe warriors demanded.

    “They must leave within two weeks”, Okon screamed.

    “But Ijebu people say they are from Wyddai in Sudan” an Egba man shouted.

    “Ijebu people must leave too, within a week”, Okon snapped .

    “And what about Yoruba people who say they are from Egypt?” one Ibo man demanded.

    “Yoruba people will leave sam sam”, Okon concurred.

    “But Ibo people claim they are Jews!” a Yoruba man shouted.

    “They must go back to Jerusalem with immediate effect”, Okon thundered.

    “At this rate, only minorities will remain in Nigeria”, one man noted.

    “Now, we know your plans!”, the Ibo man screamed and started attacking everything and everybody in sight. Pandemonium ensued as the crowd disintegrated into its ethnic and sub-ethnic components. The Atlantic Ocean joined in the melee roaring furiously from the direction of Badagry Beach and threatening to overwhelm anything in its path. Everybody fled in different directions.

  • Okon commiserates with Charlie Boy

    Trust Nigerians never to disappoint. Every rally mutates into two mutually hostile rallies. Every march against something produces a contrary march for the same thing. Since the First Republic, every political party throws up what the Germans call its own doppelganger or call it counter-party. The antithesis inheres in the thesis. It is trite to conclude that Nigerians are congenitally incapable of speaking with one voice.

    So it has been with the new movement aimed at forcing General Buhari to cut short his medical vacation and resume work or resign from office on the ground of terminal incapacitation. We have travelled this route before and once again the nation appears split down the middle. On the whole, Nigerians are generally a conservative lot and there are sharp cultural sensitivities about shooing an ailing president out of office. Compassion is an old African virtue. But whether this compassion is in alignment with the harsh dictates of political modernity remains a political conundrum that will be sorely tested in the turbulent months ahead.

    Taken together, the name of the organization sounds very ominous indeed. Ourmumudondo reminds one of a native bird of awesome portents. Baba Lekki calls it Ologomugomu. But this has not deterred the punitively proactive police. On the first day of protest, the police treated the protesters with kids’ gloves. Federal authorities warmly endorsed their right to protest although the discerning could detect a hint of official testiness and tetchiness.

    On the second day, the gloves came off. The police moved in on the pretext of protecting the protesters from hoodlums and miscreants. One of the miscreants was the leader of the group, Charlie Boy, the amiable stuntman and son of Socrates himself. This was not an ordinary stunt and Charlie ended up writhing on the ground. It was at this point that Okon barged in with a tipsy Baba Lekki in tow.

    “Oga come see how dem police dey wire dem Charlie boy. He don reach time make dem Charlie man dey return go America”, the crazy boy chanted breathlessly.

    “Dem police no sabi even dem father. Even if say na Charlie him father dem go wire am proper proper”, Baba Lekki drooled.

    “Baba na true. I sabi dem policeman for Mushin who dey wire him father every morning. The baba go dey cry like dem Obudu monkey”, Okon  retorted.

    “Dem police CID tell me say dem think dem Diezani woman don wire Charlie Boy money make him dey cause trouble and dem go wire am well well. Mama don finis mumu ,” Baba Lekki snorted with a devilish grin.

    “What a foolish insinuation”, snooper shouted at the crazy old man.

    “That one na yeye grammar”, Baba Lekki snorted. Snooper ignored the crazy old man and lapsed into a deep meditation about the state of the nation.

    “The son of Socrates”, snooper mused to himself.

    “Socrates ko, Socromento ni. Even if it is Aristotle dem mad police go wire am well well”, Baba Lekki sneered. At this point, snooper felt like throwing out the old sot but had to restrain himself.

    “Baba, abi Socrates no be dem Brazil soccer captain for 1982 World Cup? Him dey smoke gbana and him be doctor..” Okon crooned with nostalgia.

    “Foolish yeye boy. You say you be thirty five years and yet you sabi everything for sixty years”, Baba Lekki jeered.

    “Baba I don tell una sotey say official age no be facial age. Dem get eighty year old abami people for civil service. Dem come dey smell like dem Agege coffin. But dis dem Charlie boy I pity am becos I like am. Make him no let police kill am”.

    “Tell dem boy make him go home and take apu and better snuff. He don reach danger time for obodo”, Baba Lekki sneered and began to eye snooper with dark intent.

    “Oga no mind baba jo. Burukutu don scatter him head,” Okon pleaded as he led the old codger away.