It felt like Europe on Armistice Day exactly seventy five years ago. As dawn broke last Monday and government’s relaxation of some of the restrictions occasioned by Covid-19 came into effect, all hell broke loose in Lagos, the greatest megalopolis of the Black person in contemporary epoch.
It was like watching a human volcano erupt as the outlying slums and suburbs emptied their contents on the besieged city.
Only God knew what had roused the crowd to this early morning animation. But there were people everywhere heading in no particular direction and often at apparent cross purpose.
Very soon, the banks, hospitals and government offices filled up to their capacity with the unruly conurbation spilling to adjacent streets as tempers flared and hot arguments about right of way and other priorities settled for fistic adjudication.
Watching the human maelstrom from the veranda, Mama Igosun exploded in mirth and wicked humour: “ even when dem Ibadan army come drive dem Owu people comot and dem come scatter everywhere, the crowd no reach this one oo”, the ancient damsel noted still confining her point of reference to ancient Yoruba feuds.
The old woman was clad in snow-white apparel, like a priestess of some dreaded orisa deity. Thinking that an apparition had stolen into the house, a dozy Okon was about to scream for help before realising it was Mama Igosun.
“If you like, make una appear like Angel Gabriel. No be you go drive me comot for Lagos, since I no come Lagos becos of una, you hear?” Okon swore at the old woman.
“Yeye boy, na mariwo (palm fronds) you see, you never see dem egungun”, she shot back having comfortably ensconced herself in a ringside seat outside the house.
By now the crowd was becoming even more unruly with people running helter-skelter in all directions without any reason or rhyme.
“Abi dis dem Shaina (China) people don poison dem water supply for dem Iju sef? Dis one come dey pass Kurunmi and dem Ijaye war”, the old woman mused to herself with a mischievous twinkle.
Suddenly Mama Igosun sighted her favourite police buddy in mufti trudging rather desultorily among the crowd with horror written all over his face.
“Ha officer, policeman, how market?” Mama Igosun sneered at him.
“Ha mama, ilu (town) don burn you still dey ask for market? Market don scatter”, the distraught cop rumbled as he elbowed his way forward.
By this time, the old woman noticed the undersized police fellow often in oversized uniform who doubled as the orderly to the older one, struggling with the crowd to keep up pace with his boss.
Despite his puny size, he was quite a handful with his colourful turn of phrase and funny northern Yoruba accent.
“Ha, ha, kunduke, kunduke !! (ancient Yoruba word for miniscule or kindergarten masquerade) You don thief finish today?” the old woman snorted at his heels.
“Ha mama, town don scatter. Dem say drum don tear and you dey ask for Ayantoyinbo? Even if you call Ayanleke he no fit. Armed robber come rob armed robber today. Manamana (Thunder pronounced with Oke Ogun accent) come descend.
Dem Awawa boys finis baba police for bank today. Dem take all him money from him pocket and him ATM card. Oga just dey look dem him no fit talk.
Dem even ask him to write him ATM number, and oga come dey paranpitate as he write am”, the rogue cop chanted with barely suppressed malice.
“Wetin happen?” the ancient lady asked in mock concern.
“Mama, sebi you be ogbologbo? Dem masquerade without mask na him be the master of masquerade with mask. Without uniform and rifle policeman na ordinary Idumota omolanke man.
He don dey reach time make man leave dis yeye job jeje. Dem boys I see today even Inspector General go pick race”, the old boy sniggered.
“Yekinni, stop releasing state secrets or I will put you on guardroom trial as soon as we get to the station, you stinking idiot”, the older cop finally exploded without any conviction which elicited a girlish laughter of derision from the old woman.
“Kai, dem don finish dem police. Dis one no be police force of Oluokun of Amunigun, Areoye of Beiyerunka and Elekuru of Agbadagbudu”, the old woman lamented.
“Mama if dem like make dem go bring Alalubosa and leave Elekuru na the same thing. When Abiku dey fight Ayorunbo something must to give”, the younger cop drawled.
It was at this point that the noise of heavy duty military grade shooting panicked the already disorderly crowd. Amidst the din and confusion, the old woman of Igosun vanished into thin air.
The Nation
