Mojoyinola Ajibola 


Seated, shouting and mumbling, the Faculty Liars’ Council are deliberating on the upcoming election in the Village of Akanran. Olori Ebi, Amugbalegbe and Akowe chair the occasion. Everyone is seen scribbling something on the paper. Olori Ebi spoke:

“We’re here for some germane issues facing our dear village. As you know that every session there is an election in this village wherein we elect whom we deem fit to rule us. Last year, it was recorded that not many people came out for the executive positions thus, we’ve this current half-baked leaders. I mean, you can see from the headache they gave us in their budget presentation. The President is not articulating. The General Secretary writes in ancient language. The Social Director is very rude. The PRO is a man of plagiarism. The financial secretary (Madam Piggy Bank) does not know the difference between subtraction and addition. The Treasurer spends his whole day shooting gorilla and lion in the Zoo. I mean, there is fire on our mountain in this administration. So, in order not to repeat the same thing I implore everyone to concentrate while the meeting is going on. This is a serious matter.” 

(Like an Army barrack where obey-first-and-then- complain-later is the slogan, everywhere is silent.)

“Mr. Pasan (Whip), calls on the Electoral Chairman for me. Let him come out with his budget for the electioneering process.”

(Mr. Pasan runs towards the Electoral Chairman like a rat whose back has benefited from the electric wire attached to a club)

“Mr. Chairman, you’ve the floor now.” 

“Ok, Mr. Pasan”

(In his white cloth and traditional red cap, the chairman goes to the lectern “swaggarly”) 

” Olori ebi, the Council, standing before you this evening is the leader of the electoral committee. I’m here to present a budget on the electioneering process. Don’t let me bother you to reel out what is before me (He gives Mr. Pasan the file with him and he– Mr Pasan– distributes it to the members seated.) 

“Family members, should we approve this?”

(Kako raises his hand to comment. Olori ebi looks at him and asks him to speak.) 

“Olori ebi and the Council, I’m honourable Kako representing Idi Odan constituency. Olori ebi would you permit me to ask Mr. Chairman why they need security for the election? We are not known for violence. So, why the security?” 

(Some members are seen mumbling, eating and chatting on WhatsApp.) 

“Thank you, Honourable Kako. Security is very important in our society now. Something can just happen at any time. It is the lack of security that made it easy for Boko Haram to kidnap 257 Chibok girls. It is the lack of security that made the hyenas and monkey to cart away our ballot boxes in the Osun election. In view of this, we need security in our lives. Now going to your question, do we need it for the election? Yes, we do. The reason is simple: for those thieves coming from the Baluba Kingdom.” 

Olori ebi coughed.

“I don’t totally agree with you. Since I was born I’ve never seen any election manned by any security. We are peaceful in this village. Have you ever heard any fight here in this village before? So, sir, do your findings before you come here. We’re intellectuals. We don’t just accept things anyhow.”

(Mr Kako sits and Olori ebi, ruminating on how to find a Celestial way forward to the issue, speaks up.) 

“I think I agree with Mr. Kako. There is no need for security men during the election. If at all the Chairman wants any security, he should use his own money. He has money. Fellow members, do you know he has once contested for the post of Presidency of the Sacked Union (SU)? Do you know his father and mother are not staying in Nigeria? You can see from the way he speaks English like those Been-tos. I like him for one thing – he’s generous.” 

(Laughing thunderously and waving his hands in disagreement, Mr. Chairman wants to speak but he is cut short by the Olori ebi) 

“Fellow members, should we approve this?”

“Yes!” All of them shout in unison 

“What of this? ” 


“What of this?”


“What of this?”

“Yes. No. Yes. No.” 

(Dani raises his hand and Olori ebi calls him to talk.) 

“Olori ebi and the Council, I don’t understand the Press night. Is it about the night where we will be doing press up at the quadrangle just to bring out macho among us?  Is it like a party that pressmen from all over Nigeria come to? I’m confused because I don’t understand how such amount, #6,000 naira would be budgeted for only the press night. I would like the Chairman to clarify” 

(Olori ebi cuts the Chairman short.)

“Mr Chairman, I don’t know why you’re very passionate about the press. Have you been part of them before? You see, this issue of Press Night is a scam. I am a pressman I know how everything works. I had been in journalism for several years before I got a letter to come here and learn the traditional music. You know, I just want to be versatile. In 2015, when we organized a Press Night for Mr Buahari and Brother Jonathan, only 10 pressmen were called, three sat on the high table quizzing the aspirants and the rest were just watching and clapping for us. We didn’t give them any food only those of us on the high table ate. In fact, I could remember that day, I bagged two awards home, the Most Popular Journalist in Nigeria and the Best Investigative Journalist in 2015. On the investigative award, I went to Sambisa Forest to cover the plight of the soldiers. I got all the award in a day! All in a day!” 

(Fellow members are already on gear 4, snoring before Olori ebi finishes his tale.)

“The press is not organizing a wedding ceremony or a funeral, it is just a Press Night. Let us be magnanimous enough to give them a thousand naira. Fellow members, don’t you think I deserve a paroxysm of applause?”

(Standing and clapping thunderously, fellow members are shouting like those from Baluba Kingdom) 

The meeting ends.

Like the popular saying that it is the highest form of foolishness when one does not know and one does not know that one does not know. Olori ebi is very intelligent but only that darkness has clad his sight: he has eyes but cannot see, ears but cannot hear– he is neither blind nor a deaf. He is just confused. He is like the IGP Ibrahim Idris, transmission confusion transmission transmission confusion transmission. 

And like an itinerant preacher, stories journey, with no beginning nor a permanent bus stop. This is not the beginning, and this is not the end of this story.


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