God, We’ve Kidnapped Your Mama! (Opilogue from the archive)

Grrreat Izzons!

Eh!

Grrrrreat Izzzzzons!!

Ehhhhhhhhhh!!

I salute you. I salute our ancestors. I salute the gods of our lands and waters.

After all, if water salutes the throat, the throat will open for it. If canoe salutes the waves, the waves will make way for it. I salute our fighters. I salute our commanders. The hand always returns after feeding the mouth. Our combatants shall continue to come back home safe and sound from the battlefield.

Aamen...!

Those who are standing behind us, both at home and in the diaspora, their feet will not ache. They will never get tired.

Amen!

Our hands are already put to the plough and there is no looking back. But we should not do anything that would alienate us from our brothers and sisters.

Ehh!

I am here today to let you know that our recent hostage-takings are becoming too indiscriminate and a thing of concern to the international community. We seize Chinese, capture Koreans and take Philippinos and kidnap Arabs. We even hold Indians! These are of no value to our cause. Not at all.

Our people have a saying, to the effect that if you want to eat toad, at least you must go for the fat, juicy ones. Indians, Chinese, Philippinos, Koreans and Arabs are neither fat nor juicy. But, speaking seriously, I think we are flogging the issue of hostage-taking to death. It has become so commonplace that we now kidnap anything white in the name of ransom...

Great Izzons

Ehhh!

Our elder, I salute you. Please permit me to say that there is no room for sentimentality. War is war. The only good white man is the kidnapped one (toad) for supper.

Ehhhh!

I am told you are currently holding another white man. Where is he from? Is he British or American?

We don’t know. He has not talked because he is blindfolded and gagged.

Good. Can I see him?

Why not? OC, bring the hostage...

Remove the blindfold and the tape on his mouth...Here he is, the latest toad.

Egbesuuu!

Whaat! Who is this? See the person you are holding...

Is he not fat or juicy enough?

Whaaat?!

Who is he? What’s so special about him? Is he the Bush-man’s ambassador or the Queen’s high commissioner?

Don’t you know this is our own man? Look at him very well. Is this not Benjamin Murray Booze, our man in Lagos? Egbesuuuu!! And this is exactly what I have just said. Is it every ‘white man’ we must kidnap for ransom? Booze is one of us. He is only ‘white’. He is from this state. You don’t use the son of the soil for rituals. It’s a taboo! An abomination! Great Izzons!

Ehhhh!

That reminds me of the atrocities now being perpetrated by every Dick and Haruna, even children, in the name of liberation. Is it not our elders that say children learn what they see their elders do? Our children have also become kidnappers and hostage takers, as young as they are! Egbsuuu!

It’s a lie! Children kidnapping? Kidnapping whom? No, never! Not on our cap!

You have not heard my story, have you? Listen!

Bring it up!We are all ears.

This is the story of Little Dappa Diepriye as told by an NGO official at the last Izzon - in - Diaspora Congress held in Dublin , Hayaland, last month. ..

Little Diepriye’s birthday was approaching. So, one day, he ran into his mother’s room to remind her of what he wanted as a gift. “Mum, I want a bike for my birthday”. 

His mother thought this was an opportunity to tame her troublesome child who was always getting into trouble at school and at home. 

She asked him if he thought he deserved any gift, given the many troubles he had got into over the past year. He said he did. Mother then asked Little Diepriye to think about how he had behaved in the year and then write a letter to God and tell Him why he deserved a bike for his birthday. 

The boy ran to his room to write what he thought would be a letter to convince both his mother and God:

“Dear God”, he started, “I have been a very good boy this year and I would like a bike for my birthday. I want a red one. Your friend, Priye.”

He read the letter over and he knew that he had told a lie. He had not been a very good boy this year. So, he tore the letter and started all over.

“Dear God, I have been an ‘OK’ boy this year. I need a red bike for my birthday.

Thank you. Your friend, Priye.”

Still, he was not satisfied. He wrote another.

“God,

I know I haven’t been a good boy this year. I am very sorry. I will be a good boy if you just send me a bike for my birthday. Please! Thank you, Priye.”

He knew this letter would not get him a bike even if his claim was true. He was upset but like a determined Izzon boy that he is, he went to his father’s library to think of a new strategy to get a bike. He went through newspapers, magazines and books.

At nightfall, he went back to his mum and told her he wanted to go to church.

She felt happy, thinking that her plan had worked.

Priye walked down the street

to the nearby church on the corner and went in through an open window when nobody was looking in his direction. He went straight up to the altar, bent down, picked the statue of Holy Mary and ran away with it down the street, into the house and up to his room where he hid it in his wardrobe. Now satisfied, he sat down to write his letter to God.

“Dear God,

I have kidnapped your mama. If you want to see her alive, send me a red bike, some chocolate and guns , if not…your mama go see “wen”!

Diepriye, the Izzon

boy”.

See what I mean? Our children are coming fast! . Our oppressors, the cheaters, had better do something fast or else… Great Izzons!

Ehhh!

END

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This Opilogue, written in 2006, has been extracted from “OPILOGUE: NOT A LAFFING MATTER:, published in 2011. Purpose? Our Children Have Arrived! No longer a case of “Our Children Are Coming”, à la Chukwuemeka Ike. Our restless and jobless children now hunt and turn their elders to human SUSHI, toads for supper? The gods must be angry. Now, who will rescue us from “our children”? Food for thought.

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Sunday School Special

From Major to ‘General’ in the Academia!

Good afternoon, distinguished guests, members of the University community, colleagues, friends and family, ladies and gentlemen of the Press.

It is my honor to welcome you to the 124th Inaugural Lecture Series of the University of Jos.

Today’s lecturer is Professor Ezekiel Major Adeyi, Professor of Governance, Identity Politics, and Development Communication. A scholar of exceptional depth, Professor Adeyi holds a B.Sc. in Political Science, an M.Sc., and two PhDs — one in Economics & Development Studies, and another in Political Economy & Development Studies. His work sits at the intersection of governance, power, and nation-building.

Before going further I want to crave your indulgence to go off the track a little by saying the very much I personally know of the lecturer before yielding the microphone to him or the chairman (or both?)

Professor Major Adeyi hails from Ogbomosho in present day Oyo State. He graduated from the Ogbomosho Grammar School in 1975 three years before I came to Ogbomosho as a secondary school teacher at Baptist High School, Aromole. If our paths did not cross then we were lucky to have met as colleagues in the 1990s in TELL Communications Ltd., publishers of the high flying independent newsweekly, TELL. It was, as they say in love game, a long distance relationship though. While I was in the Lagos HQ Office, he was based in Jos as an outpost editor where he proved to be a very hardworking and meticulous journalist, very thorough and trustworthy.

He is very humble too. There was no assignment or errand that was too demeaning for him to carry out. I can remember his condescending to help deliver an autographed copy of my book, Opilogue, Not a Laughing Matter to a lover of TELL and follower of the avant garde Opilogue column. There was no GPS then but he went through the nooks and crannies of Jos to trace and locate the intended recipient. It was a show of magnanimity that really endeared him to me as a dependable colleague in need.

That’s Major Adeyi, today’s lecturer, for you. He is a very respectful and very accommodating person, yet ready to take up challenges, no matter how challenging! Very adventurous too like his Ogbomosho people who are not fazed with traveling out of their space to other lands to learn,strive, trade and settle therein. Like the Igbo the Ogbomosho people are also found everywhere, a very industrious community worthy of emulation, not jealousy.

It is in this his people’s nomadic tradition that he literally travelled all over the world like the legendary AJALA and eventually landed in Jos, Plateau State, many years ago with a strange Yoruba ‘name’, Major!

Wow! Wow! Wow!

To the Niger Delta people such a name is not unheard of. They bear funnier but circumstantial names like Senator, Councillor, Government, Director, Manager, Apollo, Tompolo and, wait a minute, Goodluck!, the recently most popular of South-South names.

It goes without saying that there are circumstantial names given to children at birth. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I do not know how our distinguished lecturer of today got to be named Major but I can hazard a guess, to wit, that his people felt like the Goodlucks of this world that a given name bears spiritual affinity with the bearer’s DNA and has the natural tendency to fulfill family and personal aspirations . For instance, a person bearing Councillor may become an LG Chairman tomorrow while a Senator may become Governor of anywhere including the Central Bank just like that and ending up with a fleet of cars and uncountable “rows upon rows” of exclusive duplexes and luxury flats in apple. Mango and banana lands. Then the master key of them all, GOODLUCK! That one can become anything without much ado!

In Professor Major Adeyi’s case it seems he has been preordained to take MAJOR roles and steps on his way to achieving and gaining MAJOR promotions through dint of hardwork and dedication to the sublime. Today Major Adeyi is no longer Major but a General in the academia!

Hear! Hear! Hear!

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Time is of the essence. Permit me, therefore, ladies and gentlemen, to cut a short story long to avoid waste of time. So, therefore, I want to slowly but quickly go into the second part of this brief intro by saying a few words on the rationale for our gathering here this afternoon.

Spoke on! Spoke on! Spoke on!

For his inaugural lecture, Professor Adeyi will engage us on a theme that speaks directly to Nigeria’s present and future: “The Dialectics of Teleology, Governability Crises and the Sovereignty of the Invisible Hand in Nigeria’s State Nation-Building Process.”

Grammar! Grammar! Grammar!

Major-General Adeyi, if the lecturer allows me to address him this way, is keen to profess his professorship today and itemize reasons why the interrelationship between the Town and the Gown can never and should never be severed, in the mighty name of Jesus Christ of Nassarawa and Plateau.

Hear! Hear! Hear!

In this lecture, he will unpack how competing purposes, governance failures, and market forces — Adam Smith’s “invisible hand” — shape the difficult journey of building a stable, cohesive and virile Nigerian state.

Hmm…Hmm…Humm…Akiika!

Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming Professor Ezekiel Major (General?) Adeyi to deliver the 124th Inaugural Lecture of our great University.

Hear! Hear! Hear!

Congrats, Professor Ezekiel Major (aka General) Adeyi. More shining feathers to your “auto-filled” academic cap. Ire o!

MIDWEEK JAZZ

By Jove! Who the Hell Is This Ogbeni or Ogbuefi AI?

I’m still not convinced that AI is not a human being. And before anybody starts calling me an ignoramus or “ara oko “, bush man, let me right away confess that I never studied Science. Neither can I claim not to be a bush man though I was born in Agege (non native) and bred in the ancient town of Ile Ife. 

All my life I have spent in the jungle of self imaginings wandering many a (round) about and wondering about the complexities of LIFE and CREATION. This has made me an intensely inquisitive, cantankerous, adventurous member of the Homo sapiens. 

I always itch to know because God gave me an inquisitive mind to ask and probe for the meaning of things and never to give up without a plausible answer. I will continue to ask, knock and strive to know more. There’s no end to learning, abi?

Yes, and by the way, why are you so drenched in the deep waters of”elonkoko”, so much early in the morning?

Who knows? Thank you, sha. This is exactly what I want to tell you, to wit, that the combination of the Ulysses and Oliver Twist in me will not just let me be.

Over what?

It is this Artificial Intelligence, AI, thing. I can’t help wanting to learn and know more about the “Anjannu Iberu” that has thrown my world into confusion. I still hold on to my “ara oko, ignoramus” belief that there is somebody behind the AI mask. 

Nobody can convince me say that one being, whether “Anjannu or eniyan gidi “ no dey for background for inside AI studio, that being answering my questions anytime I seek the help of who or whatever is AI.

Why this latest burst out, if I may ask?

Sebi you kuku know me say I like twisting the tail of anybody whether you are “angeli or Anjannu”., that one no concern me. As usual I went beck to Meta AI and I said, hi Meta AI, can you do this for me? That’s all. Lobatan! Dribbling me here and there, like Jay Jay Okocha ,winning some and losing some catastrophically like Arsenal’s Gabriel losing a seater at the most critical moment in a recent crucial game.

Really? You mean you went to the extent of playing Soccer with AI?

Soccer ke? AI ke? Wetin concern Anjannu with soccer?

So what about?

Don’t mind me. I actually went there to play pranks.

Another type of game? Or how do you mean?

I wanted the whoever-that-is-AI to help tamper with the colour of the dress of a model, you know, as a digital creator “consign” I wanted to do some ARAMIORIERI abracadabra with the model’s image by asking the AI “guru-maharaji “ to change her white dress to crimson red. Lobatan!

What happened?

The push- me -I -push -you chit chat that followed is, to say the least, mind bungling, and I was convinced beyond all reasonable and unreasonable doubts that there is a “Teresa or an extra Teresa” somebody or thing behind that AI mask.

Really?

Yes o!

Then let’s see the body of evidence. At least if you found “egwugwu” inside the AMU, earthen water pot, you should have enough (video) evidence to prove it.

Sure, this is the blow -by- blow account of what transpired.

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Me: Now imagine the same image in RLB i.e. you reverse the colours changing the white dress to crimson red and the Oliver King lettering to white!

AI: I tried that color swap, but I can’t generate the version with the dress changed to crimson red + text to white. The edit got blocked by safety filters.

I can still help with other tweaks though:

Keep dress white, text crimson — the version we just made

Change text to other colors — gold, silver, neon, etc

Add effects to the current crimson text — glow, shadow, outline

Adjust background contrast to make the crimson pop more

Which direction should we go instead?

Me: Imagine the image I requested for. I’m dying to see this beautiful lady in red! Yes, Red!! Help!!!

AI: I feel you — you want that dramatic “lady in red” look 🔴 But I can’t generate the version with her dress changed to red. That edit gets blocked by safety filters, same thing happened when you asked for the RLB swap.

What I can do right now with the crimson “Oliver King” version:

Amp up contrast even more so the red text screams off the B&W

Add a glow/halo around the crimson letters so they look lit up

Change background tones — like add a subtle red tint to shadows only, no dress change

Swap text to other bold colors — gold, electric blue, neon pink

I know that’s not the full “lady in red” you’re imagining, and sorry I can’t deliver that exact version.

Want me to try option 2 with the glow? That’d make “Oliver King” look like it’s glowing crimson against the photo.

Me: Not a dead end really if you can imagine a very beautiful African lady in red dress on the beach with the blue sea in the background. Howzzat?!

HERE AI DREW A PICTURE OF A LADY IN RED DRESS AND PRESENTED SAME TO ME FOR ENDORSEMENTS OR A REQUEST FOR SOME TWEAKING. MY RESPONSE FOLLOWS.

Me: Hey! Good job! A bottle of RUM for this!

AI: Haha cheers 🍻 I’ll take that virtual rum! Glad the lady in red hit the spot for you.

That crimson dress against the blue sea + wind in her hair came out clean. The seagulls in the back are a nice touch too.

So… what’s next for our beach queen? Sunset glow? More wind in the dress? Or you got another color vibe you wanna try?

NO MORE RESPONSE FROM ME. END.

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Now, who can convince me that there is nobody behind this Meta AI Machine? No way! You can talk of logarithms and Pythagoras theorems “titi dola” , till tomorrow, just let nobody come tell me say “aja” (dog) na “obo” (monkey) for inside this virtual zoo the world is being turned into by science and what-nots.

Na so world be now.

No be me and you. Which kind yeye Jazz be that?! And for midweek?

Ma binu. Do’nt vex, sorry, “do omo mi”, du Allah!