Once upon a Cadillac
By
I HAVE waited awhile with bated breath for the princes of hyperbole, the masters of irony, essayists and critics, to make but a few passing remarks on an event which occurred in far away Zuru, Kebbi State a few weeks ago. Two newspapers that I bought, gave a graphic description of the event. Since the newspapers appear to have got their story from the same source, I shall allude to the story as reported in an extended form in one of them. The topic of the story is a car, - a Cadillac. The reports says the Emir of Zuru has got a new car, bought for a meager sum of N28 million, courtesy of the Government of Kebbi State. The car, a lovely sedan, was paraded round all the quarters of the town for the Emir’s subjects to see and share in its unsurpassed glory. Indigenes of Zuru, the story goes, trooped out en-masse to honour the car and its occupant, their Emir, Major-General Sanni Sami (retired). As if possessed by the furies, some of my country-men, the hoi polloi fell on the car and licked its body with their bare tongues. Kai! Haba!
Part of the story which is not yet clear to me relates to the ownership of this inestimable jewel of a car. Who is the owner of this car? - the Government of Kebbi State or the Emir of Zuru, Major General Sanni Sami (retired)? Is the car a gift to the Emir personally or an addition to the emir’s official fleet? This part of the story as reported goes thus:- "The N122 million limousines bought for four traditional rulers by the Kebbi State Government have started generating controversy. At the palace of the Emir, the crowd could not contain their joy that a limousine had finally reached their enclave. They lined up to touch the car and the proud owner stepped out beaming smiles at his subjects". In not telling us who between the retired General and the Kebbi State Government is the registered owner of this Cadillac limo, I dare say that the story on the Emir’s ‘Trojan Horse’ could well qualify for an addition to William Empson’s ‘Seven Types of Ambiguity’.
Ordinarily, I have no quarrel with epicureans. We are informed by the Holy Books, the Bible and the Koran, that in a bid to satiate the god of the Oesophagus, Adam and Eve fell into eternal damnation upon an only apple. And so they fell upon the sedan, - the almajiris, the Yayan Iska, the unemployed, Frantz Fanon’s brethren. Was the paint on the Emir’s car emulsed with dabino (dates), honey, salt or sugar? How I wish the lickers can say? How many times did a licker perform the event without endangering the car’s glossy paint? To what extent did a licker not leave a drop of his saliva or sputum behind for yet another to effect a smooth polish on this car of inestimable value? And then to imagine that all through this burlesque, the said Emir sat turbaned, car glasses wound up, hands upraised and suppliant with a Tesbiu (prayer beads) in his hands, salaaming his subjects?
Zuru lies at the heart of Kebbi State in the true North-West corner of Nigeria. Kebbi State itself is a state populated by several ethnic groups including the Fulanis. Zuru, one of Kebbi’s principal cities is inhabited by the Lelna otherwise called the Dakarkari. A friend of mine, Mallam Yanko who was in 1973 an instructor at the Staff Training Centre in Bida, (and lately, a Permanent Secretary in Sokoto State) used to speak with pride of his people, the townsmen of Zuru. He would boast to the hearing of anyone who cared to listen in the staff common room that his people, the Dakarkari, were war-like, fearless, courageous, sold to a life of hardihood. If one considers the likes of the Bamaiyi Brothers and quite a few others who found their way into and out of the Army as role models, Mallam Yanko must be right on target. But like the late Herbert Ogunde would ask if in "Dakarkari Ronu", whatever became the Dakarkaris that today all that remains of a town of warriors are bootlickers of a sedan?
To our revered Emir of Zuru, I have a few words. Your Royal Highness, Rankyaidaidai! May you live long! We who are about to die of hunger licking your esteemed car salute you! Sir, will Your Royal Highness ‘privatize’ this car to a car dealer at weekends so that we, the almajiris may for a few thousand bucks ride in the same to our weddings? Your Royal Highness, imagine what joy it would give to the Muminin and the Sardauna of Zamfara Hadji Sanni Ahmed if he rides in this royal carriage to a Nikkai (wedding ceremony) for his daughters? Over a decade ago, I had the privilege of riding in the Esama’s private jet on a trip from Lagos to Benin. It would appear that the private jet, then donning the Okada colours of navy blue and white, had found its way to Lagos from Benin to pick up a passenger who never turned up. Apparently frustrated, the pilot decided to shop for passengers on the tarmac; yours truly hopped on it.
And wow! .... Welcome to the world of the Esama...in the clouds. An oval table sits in the center of the craft for conferences. There is a room with a sleeping bunk and seats on the sides for about ten passengers with more than ample leg space for companions to the Esama. For an icing, the pilot was white! (A colleague once boasted to me in private talk that her clients were ‘expatriates’; .. Meaning, as I eventually discovered ... sh.. sh.. sh.. Indians!)
Your Royal Highness, I mean no evil. Allah forbid that I speak as of Shaytan (the Devil) when I ask that this car be rented out at weekends. Can the royal palace ever offord the means to keep, feed, and maintain this trojan horse? Wallahi! I fear that your use of this car may be a plot by Shaytan to ruin the palace with debt in the event of frequent mechanical breakdowns. True enough, I hear that Your Royal Highness was also given a miserly sum of N30 million for the maintenance of this car. Will it cover the expenses for six months?
Rankyaidaidai! Kindly refund this money before the Akanbi Panel comes knocking on your doors.
Your Royal Highness, rankyaidaidai! The National Enquirer or one or other of these American soft-sell magazines tells us the story of an enterprising American who owns a car like yours. He went and bought four others from the same limo company. He fitted them out with gadgets including fridges, beds, TV, Hi-fi, etc. He rents them out to couples about-to be-wedded for two thousand dollars an hour. Wallahi! Your Royal Highness, you will make enough money to run the palace and give to charity as well if you will take my humble advice.
Your Royal Highness, rankai-dai-dai! Someone has chided me your humble subject, for being audacious and impertinent in seeking to advise an amir-al-miminin. I confess that I do so only because of a Hadith of Muslim which advises the leader thus:- "Virtue is good conduct, and sin is that which pinches your mind and makes you feel afraid that people may come to know of it".
Rankyai-dai-dai! Your Royal Highness and other retired Generals would save your species from wanton deaths at the hands of private airline operators by pooling together your resources to invade the skies with a modern state-of-the art-fleet.
Finally, Your Royal Highness, I swear by Allah, this country would save the lives of many of its flying souls by investing money from recovered stolen funds to relaunch its national carrier. A country that trusts the lives of its creme-de-la-creme to private airline operators of the Owode-Onirin scrap-market is heading for suicide. So too does an Emirship which sits behind glass doors in an emerald car while the subjects lick to death its glossy paint.
July 2002