If you think the biggest news in the country today has anything to do with the safe return of a healthier, fitter President Muhammadu Buhari from his medical vacation in London, then you’re living in the past. You must be a wailer.
For me, the news is not even in whatever Godwin Emefiele’s CBN and the black marketers are doing with the Naira, nor the alarming loss of jobs across all sectors, non-payment of salaries nor the gale of sack in the banks (and the mind-boggling attempt of government to decree the security of jobs it has neither created nor allowed others to create).
For me, the story is in the National Assembly. And I’m not referring to the CCT trial, the forgery charge recently brought against Senate President Bukola Saraki and his deputy, Ike Ekweremadu, nor the obvious desperation of the executive to force a regime change in the leadership of the legislature. It is not even about immunity and pension for NASS leaders.
Rather, the story is that of legislative rascality of the loin, and what lawmakers do with all the free money at their disposal. Oil their waists and fund their libido? I can’t bet on that.
The narrative of what some of our federal lawmakers allegedly got themselves into, while in the United States of America a few weeks ago, sure evokes memories of the proverbial Dauda the Sexy Guy.
I’m sure those of us privileged to grow up in the heyday of Wale Adenuga’s Ikebe Super and Lolly magazines still remember the exploits of that cartoon character, also known as Mr. Nackson. Of course, we children had to read Ikebe and Lolly in secret – sometimes, hiding them inside our usually bulky Chemistry, Physics, Biology and Geography textbooks (the same way the older men hid their Playboy magazines from their wives and girlfriends). Of course, that was understandable: Although, Lolly was closest thing to porn back then. Only ‘bad children’ ever got to read them. Now, don’t go thinking I was a bad boy o! I wasn’t. Just curious!
Dauda was one hell of a randy guy, who could never figure out how to keep his pants zipped up. And he never discriminated: Married women, unmarried ones, mad ones, house-helps, hawkers, beggars and fellow commuters. Just anything in skirt. In some instances, Dauda (who was poor and very ugly, by the way) went through the niceties of wooing his ‘prey’ like every normal human being would, but at other instances, he just grabbed her and started devouring. But Dauda always pulled it off, albeit with a load of troubles. But he always returned to another adventure the following week, sometimes, still sporting the bruises from his last escapade.
But while Dauda came at a time when there was no Internet or CCTV, our lawmakers, in this ICT age, allegedly wanted to pull off stunts similar to Dauda’s. Hmmm!
Much as I want to believe their side of the story, I also suspect Entwistle did not blow the whistle for nothing. But, like the leadership of the House has said; let’s wait for the evidence – even though I’m too scared to contemplate what we might see. For, as I sit in my corner here in Lagos, I can’t seem to get my mind off all that may have happened behind American closed doors.
But then, I’m tempted to, like Jesus, ask whoever that has not sinned to cast the first stone. Let all those who have never stuck their nozzles in the wrong tanks please, come forward and sit in judgment.
Mind you, I’m not in any way condoning this rascality of the loin. In fact, I believe it’s unpardonable that any man, let alone a federal lawmaker, should carry a hard-on from one end of the Atlantic to another.
One by one, our sins will catch up with all of us – if not now, then at our burials.
But then, this rascality of the loin is not a male thing alone. Make no mistake about it!
Incidentally, it’s we men, who have little or no room to maneuver in this matter of infidelity, that are the most careless. We’re the ones who won’t use condom; we’re the ones that won’t spend one night out of our base without looking for naughty company – either a total stranger or some girl from the long list of concubines we maintain in different towns. The guys in the oil companies, I’m told, are lot more discreet. They adopt the ‘bridging’ approach – whereby they freight babes from their base stations to wherever they’re traveling to. I’m told it’s more expensive, but, like their politician co-travellers, money is never the problem with the oil workers.
“Bridging” is not the only code name I’ve come to pick up in my dealings (coverage o!) with the workers of the red-light districts and their clientele.
It was from the lawyers that I learnt that ‘Conference Materials’ usually have nothing to do with files and papers and other literature associated with conferences and workshops.
The first time I ever attended a meeting of serving governors several years ago, I never knew what they were referring to as ‘Protocol Officers’ until several weeks after. I just kept wondering what responsibilities I had, as a ‘friendly’ journalist, covering a two-day meeting of governors, that would warrant the aides of two governors separately asking me if I needed any ‘protocol officers’. Even if I needed any such ‘officers’, would it be at night, when I had already downed a few bottles? I naively went to sleep through my hangover, not knowing that I had missed out on the ‘real fun’ of the trip. It was my first-time mugu. Unfortunately, I’ve not had the ‘good’ fortune of being invited to another such rollick and frolic. Which is why I’m now a strong believer in the saying that ‘opportunity comes but once’.
I’ve also written about what makes up the “Advance Party” of some of our presidential trips. Now, with Buhari and Osinbajo in the saddle, I can almost swear those presidency pimps are experiencing bad market.
Now, I am not saying that our three lawmakers are guilty as alleged. I just want to educate our money-miss-road leaders that, in the US, there are such things as ‘escort services’. It is the smart way that prostitute-patronising America does its business without falling foul of the law – which frowns at prostitution in most of its states. It’s not like France or Netherlands where commercial sex workers not only go about with their POS machines, but actually pay tax to government.
I think our problem is this our cash culture. For one, the agency that booked your ticket could actually connect you to an Escort service, and you’d pay for everything as part of tour and sightseeing. That way, you wouldn’t be gripped by the kind of ‘hagro’ that would make you grab the hotel cleaner, like that former IMF chief was alleged to have done. It’s not like here in Nigeria, where you could order your SA to go organise babes and he floods your room with a dozen of them in 20 minutes.
There, it’s chop and clean mouth. You don’t negotiate. The girl knows where and how to get her money after the ‘service’.
Now, don’t ask me how I know all. No be my mouth dem go hear say headmaster trouser tear for back. Meanwhile, we await the evidence against our ‘innocent’ lawmakers.