Ifedayo Babalola
More than the shock of a Yoruba man becoming the elected president of Nigeria, something seismic has happened to his ethnic group, my ethnic group, since Bola Tinubu’s ascension into cloudy Aso Rock skies.
We’ve got a new bounce to our locomotion. We have begun to walk inches taller, because we have actually grown inches taller. No. Not as individuals, as you ask, but as a people. Can a people grow taller? Oh,yes! We can. Yes! We have, rather.
And if this is the first time an ethnic group has ever increased in height, so be it. Another first for The Guinness Book of Records. A Taller-a-thon!
Who can blame us? This took such a long time to come. Since the 60s. The longest marathon ever to a presidential planet.
Awo tried it, he failed. Abiola tried it, he was failed. And the other one? He was a fake, so the street says.
Now, all pains are forgotten. All sins forgiven. We have a Yoruba president. A real one. A genuine, authentic one, without a single comma of fakery….Or is it fakeness?
Ki lo wi? Without a single ‘arumoje‘ ni mo fe so, ojawe!
Iwo l’o mo. Nko gb’eebo mo o. What is a foreign king’s language in the face of one that grants access to the residence of the world’s most powerful presido?
Biden?
Naaah! See o…Vernacular of only yesterday has become today’s prayer point. King Charles ought to be jealous.
By extension, we have accorded ourselves laurels for Tinubu’s legendary tactical brilliance. Strategic thinkers we all now are. We are courageous and daring. We are politically everything the new president is, and much more. Summarise it this way. We are simply better than others, most especially The Igbo.
So, let The Igbo go, we cry! Let them have their Biafra!
Let them go? How about us then, you ask?
How about us about what? Foolish question! Can’t you see ni? We die here. No. Not literally per se. Or immediately. But who needs any other nation when we rule this land eternally for a whopping four years? Or eight?
See….We are currently the most patriotic of Nigerians. ‘If they do not want Nigeria, let them go!’ And if they want to remain, let them prove their love to our great and dear father–and-motherland. Show love to our great country. That is the minimum condition.
It doesn’t matter if no other non-Igbo ethnic group is making the call for Biafra. We, The Yoruba, are happy to be the best Biafra salesmen right now. We need more space to live, more shops to sell and more desks to fill. More air to breathe even.
We are the new cowherds, without the herd, of course, and without nugs. We are different. We have our ways. The omoluabi way, and other not-so-ways. We are children of Oduduwa. Tani baba tiwon?
Let The Igbo go! We die here, because we have found endless love. With Nigeria, and with ‘The North’; and I am sure you know who really is ‘The North’. Know that. Know peace.
Forget about what happened since independence when we shunned them. Have no regard as well for what our eyes saw during Buhari’s eight years. That old sin has now passed away, and no future ones are envisaged. Muhammadu was the last Buhari of his kind north of The Niger. All future ones will be easy like moinmoin.
In any case, his era was courtship era, and courtship can sometimes be a pain. It’s consummation time now, and we are on top. Where else would a people want to be, ehn?
Remember tomorrow? What tomorrow?
Worry not about tomorrow, says The Good Book. Oh ye spoil-joys! Let us relish today like it will never come to an end.
This is The Yoruba’s Ose igberaga – the week of pride, and the moment of fame.
There will definitely be no tomorrow, dear reader; and if by any chance it comes, it will arrive with no risk at all. We’ve got our born-again northern ally. Just the two of us. Rolling and rocking together in a Nigerian paradise.
Who cares about the east? An Igboless Nigeria will be bliss indeed… Yes, blissful indeed….
*Ifedayo Babalola, a satirist and polemicist can be reached via ifebabs@hotmail.com