My Uncle’s Dog Is a Chief

  

 

My uncle loved dogs. Male or female, he called them “Boy”. He also called me “Boy”. I never knew whether to say “Yes sir” or wiggle my tail. Once, in a mad rush to answer the “master’s call”, dog and I jammed at the door. Then, the animal leered at me. I backed away. Beast! One day, I swore, it would end up in a pot at a joint call “University of Thoughts”. 404 meat!

 

But then, my retired-soldier uncle didn’t think so. Beyond allowing the dog to sleep in his bed, he fed it with meals that made my throat jump so high it could have won an Olympic medal.  So, three weeks ago, at the news of the NAF Squadron Leader’s death, the animal wept in English Language. A low mourn, a whimper. Then, “Who? Who? Who? Who?” Again, it beat me to something. For asking that repeatedly, somebody conferred it with a chieftaincy title! He called it “Chief Olo-who of Nigeria”. The fellow claimed the dog contributed to the man’s life and made the funeral grand with his homage.

 

Imagine! Here I still am, a “bloody” mister. I deserve a title more than a goddamned dog. I helped my uncle when I could – at least to drink a few bottles of beer, when he was in Lagos. What did the dog do? It’s only “legacy” I could see were a few smelly spots of “shit” in the compound. Not even enough to fertilise an egg.

 

 Now, if a dog is a chief, I think I should move town.  In fact, I’ve packed, just waiting for a truck driver called James Ibori to finish with his court case. Somebody said he knows the road to space. I’m told that’s where he came from. Well, I’m heading for Mars and would need his help. This country no longer respects ancient wisdom and authority. Value has been thrown to the dogs!

 

Hell! Now everybody is a chief. Ex-convicts, armed robbers, cons, etc. You even have Chief Executives, Chief Operating Officers, Chief Priests, Chief Supervisors, Chief Mechanic, Chief Drivers, Chief Correspondents, Chief Judges, Chief Engineers, etc. In fact, there’s even a Chief of Chiefs somewhere. Chiefs are now as many as James Ibori. There’s a James Ibori of the elitist class; a James Ibori in the middle cadre and a James Ibori the artisan. A Governor and a truck driver with same name? Beat that, if you can! There’s a James Ibori, an alleged ex-convict; and a James Ibori the clean guy. Spot the difference. But don’t be surprised if you find out almost all the bad guys are chiefs. 

 

WAEC question: “How many James Iboris are there in Nigeria?” 

 

Answer: (A) One (B) Two (C) Three (D) All of the above (E) None of the above (F) No idea.

 

JAMB question: How many James Iboris are there in Nigeria?

 

Answer: (A) One (B) Two (C) Three (D) None of the above (E) No idea.

 

Anyway, like the many James Iboris, chiefs have grades. Your pocket determines your status. The more the money, the more the mouth twisting titles. Chief. Thief. What a rhyme!

 

In days gone by, when Nigerian presidents minded the entire nation as their constituency; when they weren’t simultaneously prime ministers of tiny communities the size of grandma’s kitchen, chieftaincy had meaning. It was an “institution” of ancient wisdom. But that was until the so-called royal fathers sold out their rights. Now, they give titles to pigs and dogs. And make themselves subservient to the politicians in power – military or civilian. Paying courtesy calls that should be the reverse.  Remember the infamous Abacha video episode? Our senior chiefs went to “Aso Rock Cinema” and returned speaking in tongues.

 

When would our traditional rulers learn? Once, they sold out to the colonialists; now it’s to the neo-whatever.  A rich subject can now control a monarch – appoint, supervise and sack our chiefs at will. And the society, like the merchant-preacher would say, has never been the same again. The chiefs, to remain long in power, must dance naked to a “pangolo rhythm” from Government House. With two left feet like the “oyinbo” in Lagbaja’s musical video. And they reap a lot of dust in return. Ask the Owo chiefs in Ondo State.  Yet, those were the “wise ones” General Olusegun Obasanjo once claimed he went to for solution to Nigerian’s problems. A few weeks back, they were so “unwise” that he tore their decision into shreds.

 

Check it out! Some chiefs have created monsters that returned to haunt them. They “dash” some dictators sensitive titles and got thrown out on forced exile. So, if somebody that looks like a refurbished farmer calls you “chief”, watch your back.  And run for cover. He may tear your WAEC certificate thinking it’s chieftaincy selection result sheet! Farmers, I’m told, can be brutal - especially those with chieftaincy titles. 

 

Me, I used the word “chief” sometimes. If I forget your name, I call you “chief” to cover my “memory loss”. It makes some guys happy, for Nigerians like titles. Even a PhD holder with a chieftaincy “dashed” him by his age grade would insist “chief” must precede. “My name is Chief, Dr, Professor, Sir Somebody…” Some even buy five titles for N5; then insist on “full complement.” “Address me as ‘chiefs’, don’t you know I have five chieftaincy titles?” “Sorry, chiefs” One chiefs, abi? Who says we’re not “overtaking” the “oyinbo” wisdom? 

 

Being a chief is now so cheap that some governors buy titles across the states. Inter-state chiefs. Sometimes, three a month. Try and deceive me, if you can. But even a Yoruba Muslim turbaned in Kano can’t stop the rampaging youths, when it enters their head. Chieftaincy title is now like modern day awards. Everybody institutes awards these days – from a backyard night school to a rundown local church. 

 

Even some of those now badmouthing Okija hold chieftaincy titles from the place. Still, they go on as if everything about Okija is bad. But they flaunt the traditional titles, anyway. It bothers me because my mother-in-law’s chicken is a titled holder in Okija. 

 

Look, I’m pissed off. The only other reason I’m still here writing this is Tafa Balogun. I’m waiting the outcome of an inevitable “surgery’ on his tummy – to reveal all he saw at Okija Shrine. The full list of patrons of the shrine – said to comprise mainly rich politicians and religious pretenders – is inside Broda Tafa. 10 registers! No wonder he came out of the shrine with a tummy like Governor Lucky Igbinedion in football jersey. 

 

Hey! The chiefs of Okija should “dash” Tafa a title for sending about five truck loads of mobile policemen to “conquer” the spirits and the blind priest. What a war! But hadn’t Okija shrine its usefulness? Now that it has been demystified, Tafa should just buckle up to fight the inevitable crime surge. That shrine, I’m sure, scared the hell out of the criminal-minded. Still, the IG deserves an Okija title, for “confiscating” corpses in the shrine as exhibits. Call him the “Conqueror of Okija”.

 

Anyway, the traditional institution has been politicised. It’s been contaminated. Now no disinfectant can change things. Not even Dettol. And since there’s no control, fake chiefs flood the market – creating additional work for Dora Akunyili and her NAFDAC. 

 

• First published in Saturday Sun of  August 28, 2004