IT almost got drowned in the ocean of distress in which we are all immersed.
In normal times, it would have got so much attention, considering the subject and the personality involved. But, that is not to say that it is a subject that we discuss freely. Our cultural and religious inclinations do not give room for an open debate of such matters, except occasionally when celebrities are involved. Among parents, it sparks a huge debate whenever the idea of discussing it in schools is mooted. A taboo? Not quite, but not talking about it is seen as a measure of moral rectitude. Right? Well, that is neither here nor there.
Besides, these times seem not to favour such matters in public discourse. Consider Boko Haram’s bloodletting, throw in armed robbery and communal clashes. Then, mix them up with the new kid on the bloody block, kidnapping and its more vicious cousin, banditry. You have a cocktail of crises, worse than a civil war, some have said.
Just how much can a country take?
When he returned from a 10-day private visit to Britain the other day, the President acknowledged the arrival of a new trade – boom, gloom, doom and all – kidnapping. Agents of violence are loosed on this beautiful country, a blight on our lively cities and seductive countryside of green forests that speak to the majesty of nature. They have all become theatres of their devilish operations.
So, amid the clash of desperation and despondency, who will talk about it and risk being dismissed as a nitwit or a mere curtain-twitching busybody who won’t just mind his own business? It is, to many, a trivial issue for which no serious minded person should spare a thought, particularly now.
What am I talking about? Star actress Tonto Dikeh’s outburst about her ex-husband Olakunle Churchill. Heard it? She told radio show host Daddy Freeze: “At the beginning of the relationship, I never suspected him of cheating because he has a sexual problem, a disease. It’s called premature ejaculation. He can’t stay…for more than 40 seconds. My son was the longest … one minute.”
The Nollywood star got married to her ex in 2015. When the marriage collapsed, she made a documentary video on the breakup. She alleged that her husband was a ritualist and fraudster.
That was, in the estimation of many a fan, charitable. Not so the radio show outburst, which has been rated to be more explosive than the three-part video. Tonto Dikeh claimed to have revealed her ex’s bedroom mannerism because, according to her, he called her a drug addict. Churchill is said to have recalled that he met her at a night club.
The Tonto Dikeh allegation of 40 seconds bedroom show has provoked many questions, which marriage counsellors, psychologists, medical experts and ancillary professionals will have to answer. This, being a family paper, I will not list some of the posers being raised by observers of this matter so as not to offend the sensibility of the reader.
Why will a woman bring into the open the salacious details of her ex-husband’s concupiscence competence? What has time got to do with it? Is it a general problem or one that is peculiar to philanderers and lotharios among who Tonto Dikeh has numbered her ex? Did she complain to him and what did he do to reverse the situation? Is it right for women to go public with such erotic grievances? Is this also part of the Beijing spirit? Will other women embrace Tonto’s formula to whip their ex into line?
One would have thought that Tonto’s testimony is the stuff for hair dressing salon gossip. Wrong. Now, it has set the social media on fire. Even if the actress had insisted on talking about it, why bring in her son? In future when his mates begin to taunt him with his mum’s assertion about his dad’s bedroom report card as signed by his ex, his mom, what will the poor boy do?
Is 40 seconds medically realistic? Was the star just being hyperbolic to stress the fact that, in her words, Churchill would “not last more than 40 seconds?” Is it possible to get wrapped up in such an erotic act and, at the same time, keep the time? Was Tonto taking a stopwatch to the bedroom to time her man? Was the man aware that he was being timed? Can the actress prove her assertion? How? Video? Mere oral evidence? A medical report? Witnesses? These are just a few of the questions her fans – and foes – have been asking.
Her Nollywood colleagues have been screaming: “Ah, incredible!”. Churchill, it is to be noted, has not said a word in his own defence against what some men have described as a grave allegation. He has taken it all on the chin. Trust the busybodies; they have been asking: “Is he guilty? Why will a man keep quiet about such a serious allegation? Does he need help? Is the woman perfect; why not release details of her shortcomings?”
Some charlatans have been recommending their so-called remedies to Churchill – unsolicited. Thankfully, there are no reports that he has accepted any of their prescriptions. An overzealous fellow listed the remedies he said Churchill could try – Jigijigi, Ogidiga, Manpower, Alomo, Pakurumo, Fodo, Afato, Eruku, Flusher, Bazooka, Osomo, Wiper, Kick and Start, and many others.
Their potency, claim the self-acclaimed exports, is not doubtful.
One of the manufacturers announced gleefully the other day that he had, at last, found a solution to (I guess you know it) “45 seconds”.
Suddenly, “45 seconds” has gone beyond being a measure of time-taking on other meanings. Gone are popular phrases, such as “see you in a minute” and “give me one minute”. Now it is “I’ll be there in 45 seconds” or “see you in 45 seconds”.
It is a measure of Tonto Dikeh’s magnanimity that she has moved on from this matter. She has just announced that her birthday is coming up next month. To mark the momentous occasion, the philanthropist and self-acclaimed evangelist will be getting a new pair of breasts. “Dear Lord Jesus, I have all I want for now. My birthday wish is that you make my schedule and that of Dr Ayo align so that I have my new boobs,” she announced excitedly. Her fans are hailing her.
If the Tonto Dikeh kiss-and-tell seems to be generating less attention, not so the matter of Caramelo, the Abuja lap dancing club from where the police arrested many girls for alleged prostitution.
Caramelo was demolished on Monday by the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) authorities. I do not know yet the legality of such a drastic action. A court may have to resolve that someday. But, many Nigerians have been crying out over the fate of the girls who were hurled into detention for being found in that club. They were reportedly harassed and asked to pay in cash or kind (sex) for their freedom. Those who would not budge were beaten up, reports said.
There have been protests in some cities, including Abuja and Ibadan, over this matter, with young women bearing placards. Their message:”Sex for bail is rape”. Police chief Mohammed Adamu has set up a probe to determine what happened. We await the panel’s report.
It is hard for me to comprehend what a strippers club clients gain. I am told the most difficult thing to get there is sex. You just watch some women gyrating and gyrating until they get tired. You are not to touch them. If you do, barrel-chest bouncers will throw you out.
I do not know yet if the girls have proof that they were raped. Medical evidence. Video (as is common nowadays). Oral proof (remember the Obafemi Awolowo University girl and the disgraced professor?). If the police are found to be wrong in this matter, they should surrender their men for trial.
The fundamental rights of all, including lap dancers, must be respected. Besides, the economic and social situations that have forced many into immoral ventures, turning cities into Sodom and Gomorrah, should be tackled. Now.
When friends are enemies
THE police are holding three University of Abuja students who watched as their mate got drowned in a swimming pool. It was all at a party for freshers. Emmanuel Aigbokhalode Balogun’s friends were watching as he struggled for life. They refused to help him. When they were satisfied that he would not make it, they shared his belongings. One took his telephone; another took the cash in his pockets. The third wore his shoes. They reported the matter to nobody.
When Emmanuel’s parents learnt that their son, 17, had not been seen in school, they began to search for him. The hotel directed them to the police who asked them to check the morgue where they got the shock of their lives – Emmanuel’s body.
It is not yet clear why these young men would visit such savagery on their friend. They were said to have claimed that Emmanuel was flaunting his wealthy background. Hence, they decided to go for the final solution. Morbid envy.
The three evil friends are symbols of the gross failure of parenting the society is yet to start tackling. I wonder the kind of lessons they got from their homes. No respect for human life. No good thought for a benefactor. No thought about the future. No loyalty to friendship.
Why would the hotel allow guests access to the pool at about 3 am. Where was the life guard? Where were the security staff?
After reading the heart shattering story of Emmanuel’s tragic fate, I remembered a message on somebody’s Facebook wall: “God, show me my friends, my enemies I can handle.” How apt.