Jonathan Married Us On Credit
One of my aunties had come very early one morning to see my parents. Up until she died in October last year, each time she came to our house at dawn, it was always for some important extended family matter. When she knocked that morning, I was still holding a broom, stretching and wondering why my father always rang his big bell for prayers at 5.30 every morning. Why couldn’t we sleep till 7.00am? Even when we, the children, prayed that God should make daddy oversleep so we could avoid the bell, God always sided with the old man. And you know what?
He still rings that bell till today, at 77! So what we do when we go home for the holidays is we move to another building within the compound and leave daddy and his wife, yes our mum, who has always sided with her husband against us, to enjoy their early morning bell.
Anyway, back to my late auntie’s visit. As I swept, I eavesdropped on the conversation which had me confused mostly. They were talking about a man who did something that was now adversely affecting him. The phrase ‘gb’ofe’ kept cropping up in the very adult conversation. Ofe in Yoruba means free, as in FOC (free of charge). In my little understanding, the man in question had married a woman for free or on credit, did not treat her well and bad things had started happening to him. My auntie had come that morning to inform daddy that the man who married ‘free of charge’ had just lost his cocoa plantation to a mysterious fire. Everybody was worried. Just like I am worried today, just like it occurred to me that President Goodluck Jonathan married us on credit.
Nigeria, like an old spinster; wanted a change of status. She wanted to get married. She was anxious. Like the most eligible bachelor, Jonathan strutted up and down her street, made it look like without him, Nigeria would end up on the shelf. Considering how long she had been in limbo ( treated badly by OBJ, widowed before she could enjoy her marriage to YarÁdua), Nigeria paid more than a cursory attention to Jonathan. She was gathering dust on the shelf already, anyway. Her reputation was worse for wear. Not many men wanted her at that point. Her beauty was waning faster than her biological clock was ticking. All her younger siblings were doing well. She is the eldest (giant of Africa and all), yet nothing was really working for her. She couldn’t really hold any man for long.
Those who actually married her eventually treated like something the cat dragged in. In fact, her neighbours were already looking at her with disdain and friends were suggesting all manner of things, including insinuating that she was jinxed.
Then along came Jonathan. He wooed her with flowers and purple prose. She showered her with gifts and took her to nice places. He promised to rebuild her father’s homestead and restore her glory and reputation. At first she was sceptical but Jonathan was the perfect gentleman. He opened doors for her and introduced her to high society. He gave her diamonds and precious stones.
She believed all his promises. She got carried away and moved into Jonathan’s house. Because he seemed like a man in whose mouth butter would not melt, she believed him when he said he would pay the bride price in a bigger way than any of her siblings had seen. He called it transformation, the dowry. She believed him. She believed everything and even convinced her friends too. He said he would transform her life, from head to toe, inside out.
Then she moved in, in faith. That was how Jonathan married Nigeria on credit, with a promise of transformation. Within two months, he had impregnated Nigeria. in less than one year, he had changed. Instead of paying the transformation bride price, it is Jonathan who has transformed.Now he no longer sleeps at home. The flowers have all withered and the purple prose has disappeared.
She now eats once a day. She is beginning to think she is truly jinxed. Maybe her friends were right. Maybe her lot is misfortune. How come no husband treats her well. They just suck out the juice and throw her out. Each husband leaves her worse than he met her. Is it that God’s doing or the devil simply at work? Why can’t things work out for her like everybody else? Why is Jonathan doing this to her, making her a laughing stock? Is he having an affair? Yes, she has confronted him but can she believe him again, trust him that the sudden deprivation is just a temporary thing? Oh, Jonathan, why do you bring tears to Nigeria’s eyes and make her heart sorrow?
Hmmm, my heart bleeds for her but like my father told my auntie that day, a man who marries his wife on credit and maltreats her will not go scot-free. He risks losing everything.
God’s subsidy’ll sustain us
We are who we are, indefatigably happy. It is difficult to make us sad. Our threshold for pain is uncommon. Why else do you think we are called the happiest people on earth? I guess that is what all administrations in Nigeria bank on each time they think up their unpopular, killing schemes. They know we’ll soon shrug the pain off or absorb it or carry it believing it is a God-ordained cross. You can’t hold us down for too long. We are just a different breed. We love life. We believe there is a tomorrow, a better day down the present bad road. That is why we welcome every new year with so much fun fare because the day after every December 31 is believed to usher in that change we have always hoped for.
We always on the last day forget the dark tunnel and watch out for the silver lining. That is why we are so pissed off with Mr President and the goons that told him that January 1 is the best day to spoil our fun and faith. What audacity and temerity! But then, I guess they know what they are doing. They know because it is a new year, we are always full of hope, sure of a fresh start. I hope they are right because if they are not, God help them.
As I was putting this piece together, Comedy Club, Live in Lagos was on on television and I turned up the volume. And there was Jaffextra doing his thing. He told the joke of why American movie producers like to shoot their alien movies in America. You see when aliens arrive New York and shoot their galactic missiles into the city, the right nuclear and anti-terror units respond promptly. When the aliens switch off the electricity, everywhere goes dark and the aliens gleefully announce ‘mission accomplished’. Now aliens coming to Nigeria is a different matter. Hovering over Lagos, they fire their galactic bombs.
They get no response because we either don’t have the appropriate units or those manning the units are drinking and dancing somewhere. After a while, the aliens hear knocks on their space ship and a voice calling out: Nna, I have original galactic bombs for sale here and there is discount if you are buying in dozens.’ Imagine the shock of the aliens. Their targets are actually offering to do business with them. They try strategy number two; switch off their electricity. Ah ah. The city goes dark instantly but before the aliens could start clinking classes, power comes back on. Lagosians have millions of generators of different brands and sizes. Now the aliens need to speak at the top of their voices to hear one another above the deafening din of generator noise. Strategy three; the aliens switch off the generators but before they could announce ‘mission accomplished’, Lagosians start lighting their candles and turning on their inverters and rechargeable lamps. Well, the aliens hiss and return from whence they came.
There’s no killing the Nigerian spirit. We always find a way to be happy even when we are all sliding down a dangerous slope into an even more dangerous ditch. On July 10, 2011, Lagos almost went under from the deluge of flood like none we had seen but the kind of jokes that circulated on Blackberry and as text messages that night are the most hilarious yet. I still remember vividly the ones warning women living in Lekki, Victoria Island axis of Lagos not to forget to wear life jackets on their sexy night-wears and how the lights on the lifejackets will come on once their beds start floating in the flood. What about the woman whose husband found in another man’s bed? Her excuse was that it was the flood that swept her there.
Already, there are happy texts on the increase in fuel price. The one I got is tagged subsidy bitters. It is a collection of rib-cracking images of fall-outs of the Jan 1 subsidy removal. There is the picture of a man peeing inside his fuel tank, a woman holding up a bible over a basin of water apparently praying for a miracle to turn the water to fuel. There was also the young man wearing a helmet and riding a ram. But my favourite is the donkey ‘parked’ in between two cars in a parking lot. Someone obviously rode it to the office. Donkeys don’t need N150 per litre fuel.
So, let’s not worry. If this PDP government takes away fuel subsidy, God’s subsidy will sustain us.
source: sunnewsonline
