I Saw Atiku’s Head in My Barber’s Mirror

  

My new barber is one mischievous Ibibio boy. His shop, if you mistakenly call it one, is fit for a sea goddess. Mirrors everywhere - walls, roof and, well, floor, too! You’ve just made a mistake stepping into the mirrored space. And now, all eyes descend on you – from the walls, roof and, well, floor too! Your eyes!

 

Weird! But tempted as you may be, don’t look up - if you want to be certified by Dr Olusegun Obasanjo ‘healthy’, like Umaru Yar’Adua. If you look up, some unknown ‘spirits’, with your eyes, would look down on you. But then, where else can you look to avoid your penetrating eyes looking at you? The feeling is terrible! Annoying! Like Atiku looking at himself in the mirror, yet seeing Obasanjo in the reflection! 

 

Anyway, if you visit my barber for the first time, you may never go back. Especially, if you have a fearful mind. But for those who have neither fear nor mind, they see it as a spiritual exercise. A self-examining endeavour.  The other day, one fellow visited the shop only to realise that his head was missing! 

 

Me? I don’t really know why I go back there, especially as I hate looking at my ugly face. But the other day, I had cause to thank God. Until that day, I never really noted that I had a head. I merely walked in there and asked the barber to cut my head, sorry, hair. This time, after he did, one ‘naughty’ edge rose in the middle. For a moment, I thought somebody had replaced my head with Atiku’s vice presidential skull. I was about to shout against the injustice of denying the VP his privileges – including his headaches, sorry, head – when my barber swore that I got there with that same coconut-head. Ah! On one hand, I counted myself lucky – for sharing a similar head-shape with Atiku. But on the other ‘leg’, I became sad. You know why?  Somebody is bound to think, someday, that I joined in ‘chopping’ the national cake with inscription: PTDF! 

 

Anyway, it was actually my barber that caused me that worry. The way the guy looked at my head set me on edge. Rather than caress the head and run the clipper respectfully across it like other barbers do, the mischievous fellow eyed my head blankly in his mirror. Then, he swung the clipper like a club and pronounced with glee: ‘Oga! This head looks oily. And very fine like Atiku’s head. Abi una chop togeda?’

 

Since Atiku returned from his United States vacation, his head has not rested. He makes the head talk too much and shakes it about like Mike Tyson in a boxing ring. But, unlike what we are used to, he leaves the head ‘exposed’, like he did the PTDF deals. 

I never knew Atiku had such a ‘fine head’ – for a fight. The type that could break bottle in a beer parlour. I should know, since we share the same head-shape. Ah! In those days, during World War 1, I used mine to break coconut. And when our bullets finished in Congo, I stopped a few bullets with my skull. 

 

Atiku returned this time looking ready for what boxing promoters call: ‘final fight’. Apart from the ‘cap-less’ head, he now spots jackets on some occasions. The first time I saw Atiku in a jacket was in a photograph. That night, I dreamt of a pig struggling into a bread wrap!  Hey! Why are you pensive? Are you wondering why the jacket has replaced agbada? Then, you must be as petty as the bishop who refused members the sweet wine of communion – simply because Maurice Iwu, the new computer-photographer, has not taken them birthday pictures.  And you must be as inhuman as Benue’s George Akume, who ordered government hospitals to ‘kill’ all the patients without voter’s cards! Even when it is not their fault that they don’t get registered? Nonsense!

 

Okay, listen good. With jacket, it’s easy to fight – verbally and physically. Just throw the thing over your shoulder and the verbal attacks would follow it naturally. Which was why Atiku wore it to INEC seminar called ‘verification’? If Iwu had told Atiku ‘nonsense’ that day, not even his electronic machines would have saved him. So, he told the man the obvious:

Atiku: I am here for screening – screen saver; screenplay; screen writing; screen memory; screen pass; screen test. Anything screen, I’m ready for you.

Iwu: Sir, but there’s no need for screaming. And I assure you that we have nothing to do with ice scream. All we do here is verification – just to see how beautiful some roadside printers produce some certificates. That’s all! Anyway, even though PDP brought a partition - I mean, petition - against you, we would still give you ice scream.  What I’m trying to say, which I may never say, is that we would screen your head to shape!

Atiku: Well, Maurice. Let me tell you something. As you know, I’m the most vilified vice president in the Nigerian calendar. I’ve been denied all my privileges – including my official attire: agbada. As a matter of fact, all my privileges – staff, vehicles, security, planes and, well, even certificates – have been redeployed!

 

Ah! Shame to the devil, Atiku has returned with a new look. Agbada would have made it too difficult to tackle anybody. In fact, it would’ve covered his mouth, sometimes, thereby, resulting in the deprivation of his fundamental human right of air pollution. Or would have even caused him not to remember that he’s been part of a dictatorship, until his personal pocket, sorry, interest was threatened.  The same experience of the Buddha-like ‘enlightenment,’ which Audu Ogbe, former PDP chairman, had. He woke suddenly from a trance after he was pushed out.

 

Hey! How much do you think Atiku’s jacket is worth? Not much, perhaps, as it can’t really hide as much money as agbada. I’m told the message on its label says Atiku is ready for a new era. A period devoid of PTDF cheques.  But can we trust that ‘label’? You know how some of these ‘Igbo boys’ fake labels and all that. Still, anybody who doesn’t like Atiku’s suit should go and buy his own in Onitsha market.  

 

Problem with Atiku’s new look and noise is that it’s merely political. It has no deep message, meaning or feeling that could translate into the best of life for the masses. It won’t be the first time Atiku would go on holiday, so why did this one generate so much fuss? The last time he went on leave, everybody slept. It was only the reported raid on his house by the FBI that woke many to his absence.  This time around, everything around him has been politicised – from the texture of the ground he boarded the flight; to the colour of the plane; to the wind that ferried the bird. 

It was all media hype! So much noise about his security and safety. Then, his allies raised hell about INEC and its sham screening. At the end, fools like me thought Atiku would neither go near INEC office nor look at Iwu’s photograph. Yet, he eventually shook Iwu’s hands. And looked into his eyes as the Prof told him some fables, perhaps, to ‘sedate’ his overworked brain. 

 

Where has this ‘new, improved’ St. Atiku emerged from? On the political front, he’s fighting Obasanjo, not because he loves Nigeria too much. Not because he has ‘national chin-chin’ for the masses. Not because PTDF would be safer in his tenure. But because he wants a taste of the whole pie!

 

But with whatever eye Atiku is looking at Obasanjo, he’s invariably seeing himself in the reflection. When did the Obasanjo/Atiku ticket tear apart? As long as he remains the vice president – and even after – he shares a ‘tribal mark’ with Obasanjo.  History will certainly mark him down with the atrocities of this administration.

 

• First published in Saturday Sun of  Jan 27, 2007