Like Politicians, Like Tanimola

Like Politicians, Like Tanimola

By Clem Oluwole

May 29 every year is celebrated throughout Nigeria as Democracy Day. The unfolding 4th Republic arrived on the Nigerian soil in 1999 after several years of intermittent military interregnums. Again this year, we rolled out the drums. But what is there to celebrate? Haba, are you asking me? Eleven years of uninterrupted chop I chop, of course! I watched with bemused interest and attention the AIT telecast on the celebration last weekend as a cross section of Nigerians rejoiced over 11 years of ceaseless democracy. What a huge shame; we could not even celebrate five years of uninterrupted power supply despite several billions of dollars which were hauled into the sector in the first eight years that OBJ was in the saddle. Today, Nigerians cannot achieve a miserable target of 3000 megawatts which Heathrow Airport alone consumes.

Some of those monopolists who have their teeth deeply buried in the sumptuous national cake that is meant for all of us argued that the worst democracy is better than the best military dictatorship. Hmmnn… But looking at the way democracy is practised in this country since 1999, the worst of the worst is yet to come. You see, when democracy returned to Nigeria on May 29, 1999, corruption emerged on the scene like an innocuous talapoin. But 11 years down the line, the diminutive primate transmuted into a king kong… the juggernaut that has crushed, nay, pillaged the public treasury with brazen impunity, leaving our hitherto vibrant economy prostrate.

Corruptionists are found among the political class, mainly. Nigerian politicians are greedy by nature… all of them. Their acquisitive tendencies are legendary, always bent on cornering the resources meant for everybody to themselves, their families, their friends (especially girls)cronies, etc. Civil servants are not left out. As collaborators, they too have spread their tentacles to anywhere there is a whiff of money… anytime and loot anyhow. It is generally believed that civil servants are the sleaze professors who school the politicians in the art of looting.

The illegal amassment of the nation’s resources by politicians reminds me of the episode that took place several years ago while I was in secondary school at Iragbiji in the present Osun State. One of my childhood hobbies was hunting. I had raised a standing gang of hunters and the boys always looked forward to my coming on holidays at Inisa town which is a few kilometres from Iragbiji.

One early morning, I set out with my gang on expedition. After rummaging the thick bush for a couple of hours, we were fortunate to sight a well-fed grasscutter, the king of bushmeat in terms of palatability. We all fanned out after the fleeing animal, tearing through the bush. In our company was my uncle’s faithful and committed hunting dog named Tanimola or who knows tomorrow. Owing to the thickness of the bush, it was difficult to follow the escapee but Tanimola was up to the task. So, we relaxed and allowed it to do what it knew how to do best. On a few occasions, Tanimola had gone after bushrats, hunted them down and brought them to us intact.

On that fateful day, however, Tanimola behaved like a typical politician. Assured that Tanimola would do an excellent job, we had lowered our weapons and inched forward, beating about the bush. After a while, we did not hear or see any trace of our partner. We became worried. Tanimola rang out of our lips as we screamed on top of our voices but there was no response… no trace and no sound. We feared that the lone pursuer might have run into an arsenal of grasscutters which overpowered him.

No sooner had I called off the search than the sound of the crack of a bone came from the nearby shrub. I carefully parted the shrub with a long stick and Tanimola was unveiled, having a nice raw meal. It sprang up but the grasscutter was sandwiched firmly between its forelegs. Disgust suffused our faces as we wondered what gave Tanimola the audacity to corner the grasscutter to itself this time around. I seized a cudgel from one of the boys and unleashed my anger on the traitor. I was determined to scatter its enormous head as it was licking its blood-soaked mouth and wagging the tail in (apparent) remorse. As I was about to deliver the final blow, Tanimolatucked its stupid tail between the legs and ran for dear life, letting out a loud prolonged whine which reverberated throughout the woods. I gathered the remnant of the venison, its neck and head gone, and led my equally angry gang out of the woods.

But Tanimola was very lucky. If we were from the Ngas tribe of Plateau State, among whom dog meat is a delicacy, Tanimola would have paid (dearly) for the act of treachery with its life. We would have roasted it in situ and made a nice meal for our lunch. As for my uncle, I would have told him that his Casanova pet eloped with a female grasscutter.

After that episode, Tanimoladistanced itself from us, avoiding me in particular as though I was a leper. But what drove Tanimola to act the way it did? Greed, of course! We had never denied it the bones which it rightfully deserved after every successful expedition. If we had not heard the cracking of the bone, we would have abandoned the search. And Tanimolawould have monopolised the venison, big enough to go round everybody. Like our politicians, Tanimola would have wasted the bushmeat because there was no way it could finish the meat alone however palatable. Most politicians steal more than they could eat alone and as such, they fritter lots of the loots abroad or waste them on senseless and unproductive adventures.

So, what do you think the impoverished Nigerians should do if and when they hear a crack of the bone which is a metaphor for ostentatious display of ill-gotten wealth by politicians and their fellow travellers? They should mete out the kind of condign punishment I gave to the political animal called Tanimola. Hey-so-bey!

(First published in the LEADERSHIP of June 2, 2010)