As snooper prowled his way to pole position at last Thursday’s book launch of Babatunde Jose, son of the great doyen of Nigerian journalism, a scene worthy of Elizabethan drama in all its Shakespearean perplexities began unfolding. An old decrepit-looking man dressed in the outlandish costume of a dreaded Ibadan masquerade shambled in and swiftly accosted one of the Jose children.

“Bia, ooo are you not Tunde Jose’s son?” the old man rumbled with intent.

“Yes”, the young fellow responded in a very sceptical voice.

“Look, young man, you cannot be saying yes to your father’s friend just like that. You will now go outside the premises and buy me two packets of cigarettes either Pirates or Craven A or Raleigh if those yeye Oyinbo people don pack up”, the old man thundered.

With a hint of pleasant humour, the young man took a long despairing look at the human fiasco.

“Kai, kai, dis baba na real irunmole and ogbologbo combined”, the young man noted and quickly disappeared. Before the old man could respond, Okon surfaced from nowhere looking thoroughly unkempt and dishevelled. The old man appeared immensely relieved to see a kindred spirit.

“Okon, where have you been, abi dem LASTMA don wire you again?” the old man demanded.

“Baba, dis na serious business. I go join dem people beat up dem old senator for my place, “ the mad boy enthused even as he shadow wrestled.

“Haba wetin he do you?”

“The yeye man come turn my sister to Constituency Project. We ask make him look for work for her and he come dey wire am.” Okon lamented.

“Haba Okon, with or without her consent?” Baba Lekki insisted.

“Wo baba leave me alone o jare. I say dem wire woman and you dey ask for corset, no be corset go disappear first? Abi which kind yeye question be dat?” It was at this point that the place suddenly erupted with a siren-blasting convoy and Okon promptly took to his heels.

The Nation