Still basking in the false glory of being appointed Commander of the order of Good Values by a rogue organisation, Okon has become totally impossible to handle. Even in the kitchen, he insists on wearing the insignia of the Commander of the Order of Good Values (COGV) like a talisman to ward off the heat.
Snooper was quietly enjoying the spectacle of a whole commander cooking for him when the mad Calabar boy erupted in a furious counter offensive. After a short visit home to celebrate his award, the crazy rogue sidled up to snooper one fine morning.
“Oga,”, Okon began as he eyed his boss with mirth and relish. “As I don become important man for Lagos, my people say make I look for good person who go write my life tory with better grammar. I come tell dem say na you be the person, and dem come gree.”
“May God punish you and your stupid people”, I screamed at him as I aimed a big book at his coconut skull.
Meanwhile, the interview proper with the feisty television station was pure dynamite with Okon in his roguish and inflammatory elements. Accompanied by a pole-hugging drunk Baba Lekki who was quite a sight in his kembe pants and abetiaja cap, it was clear that the duo had come to bury the system and not to praise it.
The old man fell into a deep slumber, snoring and revving like a decrepit trailer going up a steep hill. Okon eyed the moribund pile with savage relish and snorted, “Burukutu don finish baba”.
The interview began cautiously, with each side probing for the other’s soft underbelly. “First, we will like to congratulate you on your recent award. It was a honour richly deserved”, the leading man opened with much civility and good breeding, and a syrupy smile to match.
“Point of incorrect!!” Okon thundered. “Dem rich people no deserve honor. I no be like dem yeye people. I no dey sell sugar, I no dey sell oil. Na bushmeat Okon dey sell. And even dat one dem come finish me for Obodo”.
“Okay, okay. Congrats on your great award”, the poor chap corrected.
“Hen, hen, na dat one you for say. But my brother see me see trouble, see how dem mad MEND boys come disgrace Niger Delta. See how dem come reject my brother Ekaette as dem minister. Anytime Cross Riverman hit gold, dem Egbesu go go gaga”. Okon noted with a miserable mien. Baba Lekki turned on his side.
“Your Ette brother na useless man. When Obasanjo dey there, na im god, but when he done leave now, he come dey yab am for senate, abi? Crayfish no dey get backbone”,
Baba Lekki rumbled and let out a leonine yawn.
“Baba, shut up. Dis one no be burukutu conference with dem ganja people for Okoko”, Okon snarled, making a threatening advance.
“Okay, mo tigbo”, Baba moaned and fell back asleep even as he complained of being hard pressed by nature.
“Sir, what is your take on the state of the nation?” the second interviewer asked with quiet polish.
“I no take am at all. Dem get thirty six states but no nation. When oil money don finish patapata everybody go pick race for dem obodo. As Fela come say, na beasts of no nation dey rule una”, Okon snapped.
“If you are so critical, what is the way out?” the lady asked with sweet bewilderment.
“Dat one na yeye question. He get as he be for obodo Nigeria. You see when two dogs come lock after dem fire demsefs finish dem go drag each other around so tey until dem Kaput or until God come release dem. Sebi you sabi wetin I dey talk about?” Okon asked the lady with wild relish as she squirmed with embarrassment. Everybody started laughing, including Baba Lekki, who was now eyeing the proceeding with a sleepy stare.
“Kai kai wonna shege yaro ne”, Baba muttered, lapsing into corrupt Hausa.
“Sir, how do you see this Ribadu and el-Rufai palaver?” the second interviewer asked. But before Okon could answer the question, Baba Lekki crawled forward.
“Let me answer that one. El-Rufai is a fugitive offender while Ribadu is an offending fugitive”, Baba Lekki screamed at the top of his voice.
“Don’t listen to baba. I don tell una say him head no correct at all”, Okon snapped as he beheld Baba with amused contempt.
“But since he appears to know so much, let us ask him the final question”, the sweet lady proposed with angelic innocence. On that note, Baba Lekki rose to his full height and assumed a professorial frown even as he eyed everybody with donnish disdain.
“No, no no. I don’t take part in this kind of nonsense”, the old hell raiser began with perfect Queen’s diction. “This is bourgeois disquisition of no consequence to the suffering masses, full of putrid prevarications and pusillanimous pomposities”. He had begun to wet the floor in full public glare. Pandemonium quickly followed and the station went off the air.
First published in 2009.
The Nation
