Loud Whispers
I received a hurried call from my dear mother from far away Uyo last night. She was very clear and strict in her warning. That since I have refused to listen to all advice and warnings and have continued looking for trouble by keeping this column against her old wish, that I should never ever if I want to remain her son put mouth in the wahala between Fayose and EFCC. After all, as she continued, Fayose is not related to us and what ever funds he is being accused of hiding did not touch me. That if she ever hears that I have written anything on the matter she will disown me and remove me from her will thereby denying me the opportunity of inheriting her Peugeot 504 car when she dies. So to all my ‘fans’ who have been asking me for my opinion on this matter, you now see why I cannot talk and will not talk. I do not want to lose my inheritance. I even pray that my mama does not get this paper to read in Uyo. Help!!!!!!
Hon. Chibuike Amaechi: What kind of Minister?
Last week we were all stranded at the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport in Abuja due to the lingering scarcity of aviation fuel. As we sat considering if we should all turn into witches and fly on our brooms to our various destinations, the news came in that the Honourable Minister was in the protocol lounge. To be very sure that this information was correct, I was mandated to go and confirm. In these days of high tension, I had to be very careful so I did not end up in a dark corner. So I put on my disguise, covered my head with a beret, the kind the Minister of Sport wears complete with dark glasses and worked smartly like the ‘thug’ I am into the lounge and lo and behold, my mentor was seated there o and very calm. My legs immediately started shaking as I was seeing my hero in real life for the first time. I quickly scurried back to my group to announce my confirmation. Immediately, a small committee headed by a Saraki look-alike was convened to discuss and agree on what demands we would be making on the minister following our over seven-hour ‘incarceration’ in the airport all in the name of flying. As Nigerians, arguments, counter positions and ethnicity entered the matter. The Yorubas wanted the minister to come and address us on the reason why Akintola fell out with Awolowo, the Igbo wanted to know what would happen to their containers if BIAXIt happened especially since they would be landlocked and the northerners wanted to discuss the possibility of having grazing lands at the airport seeing that we would all be spending most of our productive years waiting to board planes. The debate became very heated and continued for hours finally it was agreed that a consensus position be reached before someone was threatened with post-menopausal pregnancy. It was agreed that we should send a delegation led by someone from the minority tribes and membership drawn from all the regional enclaves that make up Nigeria to go and simply table our resolution which was for him to just buy us all drinks at the VIP lounge. The task fell on me, since I was the one who went on the first mission and also since I was an Akwa Ibom man and a confirmed minority, I was to lead the delegation. I had no choice but to accept such a national assignment; who was I to refuse? We held a referendum to elect other members of the team and we were set for the mission. The National Anthem was sang; the pledge recited and prayers from the pastor and Imam in attendance and we were sent forth. I led the delegation with gusto and pride, taking my picture and sending to my family and friends showing me on my first national assignment with pride. My people by the time we got there, the Honourable Minister don fly o!!!!!!. He had boarded and was in his bedroom while we were busy fighting over those who will represent us for the mission. You see what confusion can lead to. We missed the golden opportunity of having His Excellency buy us drinks at the airport and to make matters worse, some of us had already started drinking in advance with the firm belief that Amaechi would pick the bill. Kai. Na sweep some people sweep the lounge to pay for their drink o. As I write, I am in Port Harcourt Airport on another long delay for a flight to Lagos and this time a small committee has already been set up but na Asari Dokubo appear o. Me no want drink again o. Thank you.
Hon. Akpabio for APC?
This news crept on me like a thief in the night, that my lord and savior of all Akwa Ibom people including myself was possibly migrating to the party of Change. Well, I did not know how to handle this news and immediately placed a call to my ex-driver who is very close to his cook. She assured me that the news cannot be true that they had just placed a massive order for umbrellas with the PDP logo with which he was going to distribute at the United Nations during his next visit. Well as I was contemplating calling him directly to confirm or deny this allegation, I saw a news report alleging that the story was not true. Well for me, I really do not care if Akpabio or anybody for that matter crosses carpet, it is really their democratic right. My fear is for the robustness of our democracy. Democracy cannot survive if there is no virile opposition and when everybody is jumping ship we just may be saddled with a one-party state which we all know will not augur well for our experience. So my plea with the ‘two’ chairmen of PDP is to hurry up and get their acts together so that they can now face the task of building a virile opposition
How to impregnate a Senator
There are ten simple steps of achieving this feat and ‘nothing will happen to you’
First win elections to the house of Representative
Join PDP and cross to APC on the dawn of change
Win elections to the National Assembly from Kogi West
Be a stout defender of the Senate President.
Go into a verbal umbrage with the wife of your party leader.
Issue your threat on the floor of the chambers.
Fly to Lagos in white traditional wear.
Take a picture on a popular street in Ikoyi near the sign board.
Take a class in gynecology so you know the exact date a woman goes into menopause.
And finally, just say, ‘sorry’.
Okocha, Ay and Kanu in Turkey
All I can say is ‘father Lord, help your children, na wetin dem go chop dem find go there o’
Edgar J: Career Apologist
I have asked that my picture be put on this story. This is so that people can see my fine face and determine if I look like a Niger Delta Avenger or a senator of the Federal Republic. Two professions that now drive fear into the hearts of Nigerians. Ever since I caught the bug of writing, I have been offending big people, forcing me to render apologies, run under my bed and refuse to visit cities like Port Harcourt and Abuja. You see this is to render advanced apologies to all those that I will still offend. Please do not be annoyed for I really do not intentionally set out to offend or embarrass people. It is devil that keeps pushing me to write these things and in some cases this same devil makes me not respect my elders. But seriously, where would we be as a nation if we cannot laugh with one another? If we cannot find fun in some of the things that make us uniquely Nigerian? To me, the idea is to lighten the tension, attempt to make sworn enemies look at each other in laughter and try to mend fences. We must as a matter of compulsion learn to look at the lighter things in life, that way we would be able to sit together in dialogue coupled with maturity, attempt to heal our wounds without trying to impregnate or beat up people. It is for this reason that I will continue offending and apologising until we all learn to laugh with one another even while fighting to rebuild our country.
