Ramblings Of An Angry Nigerian: BOMBASTIC ELEMENT

Bombastic element was the biggest weapon in my abuse Arsenal growing up. I can’t remember how I picked it up, not from a book, nor the TV, it most have slipped from a big person’s lips and I grabbed it and used it to judicious heights. I didn’t know the meaning of bombastic element (I still don’t) but it didn’t matter whether we were arguing in Igbo or Hausa the phrase was the tiebreaker, the knockout punch. I mystified my opponents, won so many banters.

Even when I picked up scallywag and nicompoo from Chike and the River bombastic element remained my favourite. It was more special because its vagueness added to its lethality. Anyone could check scallywag and nincompoop in the dictionary but bombastic element isn’t in the dictionary. A time came when neighbours and playmates began to borrow bombastic element without my permission so I upgraded to bombastic element of the highest lunacy.

Last week, like so many Nigerian weeks, saw so many incidents that could fill a book of ramblings. I didn’t feel like rambling this week but I just couldn’t possibly ignore the story of the man who beat his wife until he killed her. Before I dwell on this gory story I will say a few words to Lai Mohammed who suggested that Nigerian army of jobless should take up the dressing of masquerades for a living. Yes, you go to school with its accompanying hunger, insults, and frustrations, you spent a fortune, you serve in Nigeria’s border with Afghanistan with so many narrow escapes then you come out and a minister suggests you go dress evil spirits for money.

When I first read this, I thought Linda Ikeji was playing pranks, then I reread it and bombastic element dropped from my mouth. Yes, yes Lai Mohammed is a bombastic element and will go down history as the greatest abuser of the freedom of speech. He behaves like one who has been deaf and dumb all his life then woke up someday and discovered he has the ability to speak and he’s facing a dozen microphones, and he has to say something. So he began to vomit before them.

Imagine been introduced in an occasion as the CEO of Okechukwu and Sons Masquerades dressing Plc Limited Incorporated makers and decorators of all kinds of masquerades such as agaba, ogwugwu, adanma etc. Put your hands together for this great entrepreneur in the masquerade and juju industry. Yuck!

Thank you, Lai Mohammed, you are a genius. You know that the oil and gas industry is no longer the affluent haven so you’ve thoughtfully created a juju industry. Eshe. You see, a few weeks ago Lai Mohammed and his colleagues gave central bank jobs to their children, nephews, relations, in-laws, mistresses, girlfriends etc. No, you and I are not qualified to work in CBN. It’s for the rich, the connected and the spoilt. The police recruitment form is for you. That and masquerade costume and makeup. Or perish. Haha, Lai Mohammed, shame on you.

But come to think of it, no one takes Lai Mohammed seriously anymore (if ever). Not the president, not APC, not the opposition, not the press. In fact, the more I think of Lai Mohammed the more I doubt he exists. He feels so much like a character Cyprian Ekwensi created in a novel set in 1800.

That is Nigeria for you. A nation of bombastic elements. A nation where jerks made our laws, rule us, ruin us. Take for instance the grandpa who parades himself as the minister of agriculture. Audu Ogbeh. This man is so out of ideas that his only Agric policy is insisting on importing Brazilian grass for Fulani cows. You wanna use public fund we don’t have to import food for animals belonging to private individuals even if they are the president’s kinsmen. This is a country where only the ultra rich can afford fresh tomatoes, where more and more people are unable to feed themselves. But the minister of agriculture puts animal food first. Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir. Ride on, if you don’t feed your fellow animals who will?

Assuming we can forgive public servants for being foolish like the above, Rochas Okorocha cannot be pardoned. There’s no mercy for inhuman wastage and polished propaganda in the face of raw wickedness. Rochas hasn’t paid workers in his state for four months, Imo State University is on strike but Rochas decided that the only way to solve this problem is to sack workers and prematurely retire many. And release one hundred and fifty press statements per hour.

Rochas’ only interest is cheap publicity and that cheaper stuff that he drinks which swells his belly like four months pregnancy. Rochas so so reminds me of the rich fool in the Bible. Whenever I read the parable I see the rich fool dressed in Rochas’ senator wear, seated with his potbelly facing the sky and his legs atop a gold table, laughing and saying My people, my people.


I must return to the issue of the fellow who killed someone’s daughter, someone’s sister and two kids’ mother. Kemi Adeosun who believes that being the minister of finance entails only the speaking of phonetics and good grammar, you have escaped me today. You and that roadside mechanic Oshiomole. I will tell you guys my mind one of these days but now I have something to talk about, a more human issue. Not the comedy you people run and call governance. And those dim-wits celebrating the signing of the budget five months late, may God have mercy on your souls.

So on Thursday night that begot Friday, while good men, bad men and ugly men and women slept or pretended to, a bombastic, Lekan Shonde was awake beating his wife Ronke until she died.

I am sick. I have little details of what caused the beating but it isn’t important. What is important is that a human life has been taken in the name of marriage. What is important is that millions of women are in the danger of being killed any moment from now. Yes, any woman whose husband beats her is only lucky to be alive: she’s lucky her husband is not as strong or determined as the beast Lekan or that she has a stronger constitution than Ronke. Or she has quick neighbours who usually rush to her rescue.

Nigeria, I have said before, is a nation of hypocrites. We cannot continue to wave go-and-marry banner before our aunties because they are “ripe” for marriage and pretend to be shocked when the woman is felled on the battlefield. Yes, so many marriages are battlefields, Hitler’s concentration camp even.

We cannot continue to push men to marry because they have a penis, thirty-something years in the age box and a few thousand naira in the bank. Marriage supersedes the possession of manhood, thirty years and money. It needs more than love or the confession of love. It has a lot to do with your maturity and the psychiatric result, yes psychiatric tests should be run before marriage because we’ve taken so many mad men and women to the altar.

The other day I was celebrating my narrow escape and you guys were laughing. It’s not no laughing matter. Once you discover you are married to a mad man, please run, run, run. Your life is more important than what the family, the church and the society would say. So many people have suggested harming wives with rat poison, pistol and knife. I would have suggested three months in prison for men who beat their wives but it can never happen in this country where the senate thinks gender equality is equivalent to prostitution and lesbianism. We are thoroughly screwed in this country.

I am tired. What can we possibly do to curtail violence at home? The question is how many women have a realistic place to run to? How many will happily watch their husband and breadwinner go to prison because he gave her three ordinary slaps? Forget the noise on Facebook, most abused women are not online. They don’t read blogs. They are busy in the kitchen, with the kids, working their ass off, earning some living. Those online do not talk about it. It’s washing the dirty linens outside. But you can leave, put your intellect to use. You can take a course on self-defense, anything dear, anything! Do anything to help yourself.


Meanwhile the police must catch the Lekan snake. If they have to turn Nigeria upside down to, they must. He must face the full wrath of the law. He must be and face the full wrath of the law. And the press and blogosphere must continuously hammer the news so much that would-be matrimonial murderers get a view of the future that awaits them if they dare.

I am outta here.

Ramblings Of An Angry Nigerian: WE’RE IN TROUBLE

On Facebook the other day I saw a parody Who Wants to be a Millionaire graphic photo. The question in it says, “Nigeria is in…” The options to fill the gap were a) Africa b) Asia c) Europe d) Trouble. And the candidate ticked option D, Nigeria is in trouble! I usually try to ratio my laughter, to laugh only when it’s really really necessary, which is once a year, but when I read the above question I threw my cushion to the air and broke down, hohohohohohoho.

Where is Nigeria?

In trouble.

Is that your final answer?

Yes sah!!

Don’t you wish to ask the audience or phone a friend?

No sah… Nigeria is in trouble.


Stamped. I believe it is intellectual dishonesty to refuse to acknowledge the geographical metamorphosis of our Republic. It will pay us better to create a Map of Trouble and put Nigeria in the centre than continue to pursue the lost cause of forcing Nigeria to remain in Africa. Because every single day, something happens to show us that indeed we are in deep trouble.

You know we’re in trouble when the minister of information, Africa’s number one propagandist, Lai Mohammed tells us that they are downsizing their campaign promises to align with reality. Yeah, you promised to wed her with a gold ring if she accepts to marry you then on the wedding day, right there on the alter, you say, “Hey, gold rings are so costly, why not manage this plastic ring? From the bottom of my heart to you.” When she frowns you chide her, “Come on bae, a ring is a ring; it’s the heart that really counts. And you should be grateful I’m wedding you, you’re forty-two for God’s sake! You really must be grateful because your ex was so corrupt, incompetent, weak, clueless etc etc.”

Ok sir, go on, cut off half of the promises and dump them in the bin; edit the other half to suit this post-corrupt era. Meanwhile, fellow Nigerians, let’s continue to suffer while Lai Mohammed and Co continue to do us the favour of ruining us.

“Nigerians should be grateful that I’m their president.”

You know Nigeria is in trouble when people try to defend evil in their midst by pointing out evil in other places. The case of Yunusa who abducted, abused and impregnated Ese Oruru a 14 year old girl still wounds the heart. When the sane demanded that Yunusa pay for his crimes, some people tried to make it look like Ese is 17 and Yunusa 18, and make a Romeo and Juliet out of the mess. When this didn’t sell they resort to throwing stones, very dump stones.

“Yes, we have child brides in the North but it’s better than baby factories in the South East.’

We’re really in trouble when the governor of Kaduna, Elrufai, tries to regulate religious preaching. I have read some of the portions of his proposal and they stink, being a stark abuse of Freedom of Worship, and Freedom of Speech, and Freedom of Movement and Association. Nigeria is a secular state so I understand the need for government to draw certain lines. What I don’t understand is the requirement for preachers to have license before they preach. And for the preacher to stand before a penal of potbellied civil servants for screening to prove that she/he is qualified to preach in Kaduna State. If the potbellies are satisfied they will issue out the license. It’s really a temporary license because the preacher will return every one year to renew it. Any guest speaker coming to your worship must first branch to whatever silly ministry in charge of religious preaching to get a temporary license! Yes, you invite a bad musician like Vic O (or someone worse) and he goes straight to the club and start croaking, then you invite Pastor Kumuyi and he goes first to the bureaucratic channels for a license.

‘We are afraid Pastor Oyedepo, your license application to preach in Kaduna State is denied. Please call the next person when you get out.’

Sick. Sick.

Our legislators don’t help matters at all. On Monday they began a public hearing for that nefarious social media bill. Frivolous Petition Bill they call it but it’s proposed to do the same thing, rob us of our voice. In defence of them there’s a lot of abuses going on on social media. Some people have sworn never to be reasonable and would abuse the hell out of any public figure.
“Excuse me sir, your head is not correct.”

But this is a worldwide problem. Ask Hilary Clinton and Kanye West. The fact that only Nigerian politicians are trying to gag their citizens says a lot about the priorities of our lawmakers. Our social media is basically the last hope of the common man. It brought this government to power, it exposed an erroneously embarrassing budget, it unchained Ese Oruru etc. We can’t sniffle the whole house because of a few crackpots.

Just like we can’t ban our senators because of “Senator” Dino Melaye who said that senators should patronise made in Nigeria girls, in the spirit of #BuyNaijaToGrowTheNaira. I don’t know how a person in a highly placed office can go as low as the gutter in so few words. I guess he meant it as humour but so many Nigerians are not rolling on the floor right now. The fact that all the senators are married shows the thought of Melaye is that of evil not good. His thought is that of stuffing girls into Sheraton Hotel to service gluttonous libido. His thought is that of girls as toys, with no emotions, that can be picked off the shelf and put to use. I remember Melaye’s last year in the House of Reps, how representatives loyal to Speaker Bankole beat him up, tore his clothes and bundled him out. I felt sorry for him. I no longer feel so sorry for him, and I have come to suspect that people like Melaye should be tapped once in a while. Spare the rod and spoil the senator.

But it wasn’t all bad news from Nigeria this past week. Two news particularly amazed me. The first is the Unilag chap who graduated with 5.00 CGPA. That means he never got a single B throughout his studies. What do you say about no one being perfect? In defence of reality I think there must have been a conspiracy among the lecturers to make a scape sheep out of the boy. He got so much A’s in the beginning that they began to guard him against B jealously, that it began cultural to score him A. The environment was more than enabling, the lecturers near angelically cooperative.

This is a sharp contrast from most other universities especially my alma mater where a lecturer would beat his chest, “I swear to Got no one can make A in this course.” He would proudly count the high percentage of F’s before rounding up with, “No one has gotten a first class in this department since 1786.” I am not sure Ayodele Dada will make second class upper among these talent sucking fanatically sadistic lecturers.

The second amazing news is that of the JAMB candidate who scored 399 out of 400. This one is not true, lai lai. Except JAMB is trying to test run their sense of humour, or pure computer error. Otherwise I say impossible. Yes, I believe 5.00 CGPA is obtainable because all you need is make an A is 70%. Not 100%, 100%, 100% and 99%. Lie. We all wrote JAMB and you know most times the answers are not in the options.

What is the capital of Nigeria?
A) Calabar
B) Uyo
C) Ikot Ekpene
D) Ikot Abasi

Now, you get the picture? But after enduring Lai Mohammed, Dino Melaye and UBA throughout the week I think we’ve earned the right to enjoy the 399 comic relief.

Enjoy. I am outta here.