Moonless and mournful, the serene night was pierced by the hoots of an owl perching atop HillTop coven owned by the sad and sadistic Old Soja called Aibibi. In the bowel of his coven, the retired general lay crippled by the weight of his guiltiness, lips twisted out of shape like the butt of a smoked cigarette, eyes glazed like a dead dog’s – hit by a trailer. Karma and its hammer, thank you!
Fulani forebear, Uthman Dan Fodio, believes conscience is an open wound, peppered by guilt, healable by truth. I agree with him.
But the truth from North to South, East and West, is that the bloody general has never told a truth all his life.
Aibibi is a soldier of fortune with a hole in his heart deep enough to harbour all the evils of his miserable existence. He is haunted and shattered despite swimming in the spoils of office amassed when he turned his fatherland into a killing field and a haven of corruption for so many years.
Covens are homes for witches, not for mortals. Aibibi’s Achilles heels, which include greed, self-conceit and vaunting ambition, propelled him to reach for life’s topmost shelf, far beyond the reach of his eyes and ability. But the wise among the Yoruba warn against overambition, “Ohun owó mi ò tó, mà á fi gòngò fà á”: Any desire outside the reach of my ability, I’ll use a sickle to pluck it.
With both hands, General Coward groped for the ‘Crown of Perpetual Reign’ on life’s topmost shelf. On the last rung of the ladder, Aibibi stood on his toes, groping for the crown on the shelf high above, with the weight of corruption suffocating his thick frame, thereby overstretching his calves until his Achilles snapped ‘pai!’: He will never walk again; never walk among men and women of honour because Aibibi belonged in the pit latrine.
A child who craves leprosy must be ready to live alone in the forest, says a Yoruba proverb of caution. Aibibi bathed in innocent blood, killed millions of destinies, wrecked millions of households and investments, ruining the entire land. While he ‘chopped the life of his head’, he flicked out his snake-like tongue through his holey dentition, smiling and saying, “We shall hand over, Insha Allah.”
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More than three decades ago, the Old Soja murdered sleep in the month of June, fled Ass-o-Rock in August and ran to the HillTop, but he cannot escape the witches. who had inhabited the hill even before he was born. Though he built his house on top of the hill, he remained a tenant to the witchy inhabitants of the hill.
Two rams cannot drink water from the same pot at the same time. The earthen pot cannot contain water, palm kernel and its husk. Mortals are terrestrial. Witches are not; they’re extraterrestrial. Like they did to Macbeth, the witches pushed Aibibi to his doom through his greed and overambition, after which they began to torment him.
After pushing General Pigmy into ignominy, the witches on the hilltop have not relented. They have been haunting him. And Aibibi has been seeing things. Anywhere he turned, he saw the fangs of the Nigerian Hope named June 12, which he murdered. Everywhere he looked, he saw the ghost of Dele Giwa, who packed his dangling intestines with his left hand while clutching a dagger in his right hand, perpetually chasing the short-man-devil.
Every morning, a three-pronged horsewhip floats in the air to Aibibi’s bedside. Only he can see it. While asleep, the horsewhip whacks the General out of bed fai! fai! fai! 15 times! The horsewhip repeats the same procedure at night. The horsewhip belongs to Mamma Vatsa. The 15 lashes represent the 15 tribal marks on Vatsa’s face.
“I am going crazy,” Aibibi tells his band of bootlickers, “I live a joyless life of daily torture.” His lickspittles ran from pillar to post, looking for a solution to the mental case of Aibibi. They finally found a solution. Relieved, they returned home with joy to tell him the solution. “Baba,” they started, “You must exorcise the evils within you.” “How’s that possible, they are legion?” he replied.
“You must write a book, and we will help you with it. As you relate your life’s journey, the evil spirits will leave you one by one and go into the wilderness like they left Saul in the Holy Bible,” the sycophants told him. “But did evil spirits really leave Saul?” Aibibi asked, adding, “They never really left him despite his wealth and power. Am I going the way of Saul?” He broke down in tears.
One humid evening, a tanker bearing petrol had upturned along the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway and burst into flames when some people were trying to siphon fuel from it, killing 86 persons and burning 57 vehicles. The smell of burnt human flesh and death pervaded the air. There was sorrow, tears and blood everywhere.
Firefighters and security operatives arrived at the scene. They had a hectic time battling the inferno. Many commuters were stranded. The scene looked like hell on Judgment Day. ‘Area Boys’ were on hand to help clear the corpses and burnt vehicles off the road – for some fees – even as they helped themselves by scavenging the chaos.
1st Area Boy: Na wa o. See how hungry people scooping fuel die like roasted bushmeat for here while una leaders dey donate billions for one yeye book for Abuja.
2nd Area Boy: Which book bi dat?
Stranded Passenger: You no dey dis country?
2nd Area Boy: I no dey dis world sef. If I dey dis world na Area Boy I go dey do when I bi graduate?
Driver: Na Aibibi, dat wicked leader, na im write book wey all our leaders go there go dey donate billions o.
2nd Area Boy: Our leaders? Billions? Which book?
1st Area Boy: You no dey dis world true true.
Driver: The title of Aibibi book na ‘A Serpent in Service’.
Passenger: I for like buy di book o.
1st Area Boy: Buy wetin? Useless book wey people wey get conscience don tear to pieces? Book wey full of lies from cover to cover?
Meanwhile, Nigerian icon, Baba Adebanjo, has just died. He’s yet to be buried. So, his gentle soul still lingers within the earthly space, awaiting eternal repose in the bosom of his Maker after his body would have been committed to Mother Earth.
Baba Adebanjo was a disciple of the late sage, Chief Obafemi Awolowo. Like his master, Adebanjo was fearless, honest and blunt. Till he died, Adebanjo, a nonagenarian, walked unaided, his voice was clear, and his senses were sharp. Because he led a life of service to God and humanity, Adebanjo received the grace of graceful ageing. He did his personal hygiene by himself till his last breath. No child needed to strap him around. He was not haunted by evil spirits because he never sold his soul to the devil.
Baba Adebanjo watched the Abuja Show of Shame from the spiritual realm. He saw the roll call and grimaced. “What’s Pitobi doing among these people? I thought he was different.” He saw Emilokan and shook his head. He thought, “Wasn’t Emilokan the same man who was carrying MKO’s bag?” Then he saw Baba Iyabo and hissed. Adebanjo looked out for the Katsina General, “Ah, that one is not present. He probably hasn’t forgiven Aibibi for kicking him out.”
The list was endless. Baba Adebanjo saw JonaDumb and shook his head. When he saw General Yacoob and co., he sighed and knew the cycle of infamy was complete. So, Adebanjo ‘fi owó lérán’ by resting his head in his right palm; he yawned and concluded that right inside the Abuja book-launch hall lay the problems of Nigeria.
Finally, the debris on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway was cleared, and life returned to the road as if nothing happened. Tení kú, ni ti è gbé – it’s the dead that are forgotten.
2nd Area Boy: Ol’ boy, di book launch still dey do me like dream o. See all di people wey fight and curse Aibibi come dey praise am today like say im bi saint, like say na Nigeria offend Aibibi?
1st Area Boy: Walahi, dem just dey take us play ludo. Aibibi’s soldiers just kill thousands of protesting Nigerians for nothing. Shey na so dat wicked man go just ruin millions of lives without consequence? E no even apologise for the book!
2nd Area Boy: I remember MKO Abiola, Alhaja Kudirat Abiola, Pa Alfred Rewane, Chief Gani Fawehunmi, Chief Abraham Adesanya; Admiral Admiral Ndubuisi Kanu, Chief Arthur Nwankwo, Bamidele Aturu, Chima Ubani, Beko Ransome-Kuti; Comrade Yinka Odumakin, Dr Federick Fasehun, Chief Chukwuemeka Ezeife, Chief Frank Kokori; Commodore Dan Suleiman, Chief Ayo Fasanmi, Chief Olabiyi Durojaiye…
1st Area Boy: You don forget people like Prof Wole Soyinka, Chief Ralph Obiora, Chief Cornelius Adebayo, and others wey run go exile? What about Prof Humphrey Nwosu, the best electoral officer in Nigeria’s history?
2nd Area Boy: The list no go finish o. What about Comrades Femi Falana, Olisa Agbakoba, Abdul Oroh, Shehu Sani, Uba Sani, Ayo Opadokun and others?
Ist Area Boy: I wonder how Aibibi take make all dis big, big politicians forget all the evil things wey im do?
2nd Area Boy: When di great grandfather of corruption call, all family members home and abroad must obey!
Email: tundeodes2003@yahoo.com; Facebook: @Tunde Odesola; X: @Tunde_Odesola.
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