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Tunde Odesola
The invite should have read, “State Banquet for Billionaire Rulers,” but because the general election was nearby, and they wanted calmness among the sheepish masses, whose commonwealth they stashed away in billions, the invite read, “Governor Hammered Sunny marries 13-year-old Arab heartthrob.” It was also the day four of his children graduated from the oldest tertiary institution in the US, Harvard University. It was double joy for Hammered – his colleagues and friends, like vultures dressed in long apparels, were banqueting at the state House with him. Before some electrifying music set the tone for the night’s lavish merriment, prayers need be said. A solemn cleric with a long thicket of beard stepped forward, faced the East and said a prayer. The prayer was followed by that of another cleric in a white cassock, a sash and a square cap. The crescent and the cross reminded the gathering that it’s only God that gives power to whomsoever He wants. He could raise stones to sing His praise. He could give power to vampires! The billionaire politicians in the hall nodded in their hearts to the charge of the clerics. Who says they’re not a chosen race set apart to ruin the nation?
It was a night of galaxies: necks collared in gold, wrists resplendent in silver and bronzed anklets shone forth to add glitz and glamour to the pompous display of wealth. The expensive champagnes, wines, whiskies, brandies and beers at the party could drown a ship. It was a congregation of powers and principalities radiating perverse prosperity. The world’s most expensive chocolate, La Madeline au Truffle, was ubiquitous. Caviars, mushrooms, snails, crabs, prawns broiled in egunsi, oha, gbegiri, okra, ewedu, bitter leaf soups were on hand to waltz with pounded yam, fufu, eba and amala down the esophageal road.
The popular stand-up comedian was opening his mouth like basket, cracking up ribs and making the eyes tear with jokes as he introduced ‘governor this’ and ‘governor that’, ‘ex-this’ and ‘ex-that’ along with a countless ‘immediate-pasts’.
That usurper ex-governor with watercolour skin was at the party. He had a big gold chain, like a dog’s collar, round his neck. His wrists were bedecked with silver chains and bangles; his left ankle also had an expensive chain. He had a ring on all every finger and shone like a broken glass in the sun. He talked and bleached, sorry, belched aloud, showing a golden canine. Seated to his right was the lucky, mustachioed ex-governor who stole billions but was given a slap on the wrist and told to pay three shekels of naira. Also at the high table, picking his teeth, was the ex-governor, whose abracadabra changed a murder charge to manslaughter and set free a killer dripping blood. He too wore a necklace, bracelets and four rings like an unsuccessful magician. The petit ex-governor who confessed taking a bible to a ritual shrine; his counterpart recently caught on camera palming wads of dollars and the midget-loquacious governor who changes allegiance like quicksilver were all at the high table, among many other dignitaries.
The song of Oliver De Coque, Ana-enwe obodo enwe, blared from monster loudspeakers, followed by Ebenezer Obey’s evergreen ‘Board Members’ hit and Sunny Ade’s ‘Oro t’owo ba se ti’. Everyone was happy. The evening was going to be memorable.
“Bring it down! Bring it down!” the stand-up comedian told the DJ, who lowered the decibels of the music as the comedian announced ‘the arrival of the biggest fish in the Atlantic, the god of godfathers, the great grandfather of governors, the Alpha, Beta and Omega of the executive, the legislature and the judiciary. He’s the trinity without an office; he uprooted a President from a Red Seat. Ladies and Gentlemen, clear road for Jagajaga, Bullion Van dey come!!!!” The resultant ovation nearly brought the roof down.
The MC continued his introduction, “He just touched down right outside the State House with his lieutenants in four helicopters because our roads are terrible. He’s a detribalised Nigerian, who cuts across partisan divide; otherwise, he shouldn’t be here to celebrate with rival party members. On his entourage are Adams, Lie and Rough. Ladies and Gentlemen, make some noise for these great leaders of our time!”
The entourage was caught in a blaze of camera lights as the political master stopped to greet a remarkable woman at the high table. Oh! It was the former powerful woman behind Ass-o-Roc during the rainy season when the umbrella was popular. Now, the dry season has brought famine, cobwebs and dust, necessitating the proliferation and use of brooms. Patience is a virtue, so is respect. The ex-powerful woman with a voice like a transistor radio on wrong wavelength is now humble; she bows in greeting to the political master, who held her hand and said some nice things about ‘Nigeria belonging to us all’. Her newfound meekness didn’t mask the sheen of dubious wealth on her person adorned with priceless jewelry, expensive clothing and exquisite bag and shoes. She had, in company with her, a handful of yesterday’s men who shared $2bn security votes meant to fight insurgency.
The umbrella and the broom stood side by side and there was no difference between the two.
In faraway Lagos State, a former governor of the State of Aquatic Splendour, Alhaji Lateef Kayode Jakande, has clocked four scores and 10, and the drums were rolled out to celebrate a quintessential leader, who served and never stole a kobo. Baba Kekere, as he was popularly called, was elected on the platform of the Unity Party of Nigeria on October 1, 1979 and just five months after his inauguration, he built 11,729 schools, whereas a latter day democrat cuddled the list of his cabinet members for six months!
Visionary and incorruptible, Jakande saw tomorrow and was prepared to carry his people along with him into it. Jakande embarked on the construction of a metro line before the mallam led khaki boys to strike and terminate the monumental project. Jakande was subsequently probed and cleared of corruption charges. He changed the lives of his people through genuine developmental strides, establishing the Lagos State University, Radio Lagos and Television, Lagos State Secretariat, Alausa, numerous housing estates, genuine free education and opening up Ikotun, Ajah and Lekki areas.
Jakande never named any of his landmark achievements after himself. He only wanted to live in the minds of his people forever. His children attended the public schools he built. His wife, Abimbola, neither operated as First Lady nor spent taxpayers’ money on personal whims called pet projects. While in power, LKJ never travelled out for medical check-ups or vacations. For him, no state assignment was so urgent to make him fly a helicopter though Lagos was rich enough to buy 10 copters. He never needed to buy bulletproof SUVs nor built a mansion on the island. Jakande lived among the people in Ilupeju with Oshodi as his next-door neighbour.
Born in the Epetedo area of Lagos State on July 23, 1929 to parents who hailed from Omu Aran in Kwara State, Jakande rose through the dint of discipline, hard work, commitment and perseverance to become the Editor of Tribune newspaper and later founded the Nigerian Institute of Journalism, the Newspapers Proprietors Association of Nigeria and the Nigerian Guild of Editors.
He never had a university education but he had the love of his people at his heart.
Happy birthday, Baba Kekere!
90 gbosas for LKJ!
Longer may you live!
[Punch]
