Skip to main content

Thomas Crooks, The Trump Shooter, Is A Nigerian!

  Thomas Crooks Thomas Crooks was just an ordinary guy until he listened to his overtaxed brain.  Brain: Do you know you can be famous? Crooks: How? Brain: By attempting the infamous!  So, Crooks picked his father’s AR-15-style semiautomatic rifle. He listened to his confused brain again and headed to a rally nearby. Minutes later, he did a crooked thing by firing at Donald Trump!  Crooks wasn't a known professional crook. But he obviously had a enough crooked mind to store explosives in his car and home.  Yes, the Trump shooter was one man. But his name, “Crooks,” gave the impression of a multiple negative character. His crooked act and plans probably justified the addition of letter “s” to a his name, making him one but many crooks! Crooks’  “crooked shot missed Trump by an inch. Thomas Crooks was probably so crooked that he couldn't think straight. But thank God he couldn't shoot straight, either. Otherwise, the world would have missed a daring, straight...

Tibunu: A Coffin For Us All!



Once upon a “clock”, in a land called Nigeria, where the sun shines free and the politicians' promises are as plentiful as the grains of sand, there lived a man named Tibunu.
 


Now, Tibunu was not your average Joe. Some say he  was a master of political maneuvering, a magician of sorts who could say “abracadabra” and  money disappeared faster than you could say "corruption." But others say his magic transformed Lagos from a forest to a bush.


Anyway, one day,  the king of the city passed on. And Tibunu played a little game on the Nigerian people. He said the gods of the land named “Emilokan” had ordained him to lead. Meanwhile, like a faking pentecostal pastor, he was the only one who heard o. Still, nobody expected what would happen next.


On the first day of his crowning, Tibunu, a Yoruba chief, pulled out a horse-whip labelled “hardship” and started flogging the Nigerian people. But the people of Nigeria, mainly politicians in power, hailed him as bold. 


 Next, he waved a magic wand (which suspiciously looked like a wad of cash) and announced that “fuel subsidy is gone”. He didn’t bother to explain where it was going but many clapped like “mumu”. 



Two days after, everyone woke to the interpretation of “gone” to mean that fuel prices would be increased on a daily. They now defy gravity! "But fear not, my dear citizens," Tibunu proclaimed with a twinkle in his eye, "for this increase will only bring us closer to economic prosperity!"


The Nigerian people, bless their hearts, tried to make sense of it all. "But sir," they cried, "how can we fill our tanks when the prices keep going up faster than a politician's promises during campaign season? How are we supposed to get to work when filling our tanks costs more than a month's salary?"


Tibunu merely chuckled: "Why drive when you can trek?" he quipped. Again, he waved his wand, this time announcing an increase in electricity tariffs. "Ah, but you see," he explained with a smirk, "this increase is for your own good! It will encourage you to conserve energy and embrace the joys of candlelit dinners and moonlit strolls. It will also help to preserve our cultural heritage - like the local kerosine lantern."



The people scratched their heads in confusion, wondering how they were supposed to boil water with firewood and charcoal. They can no longer cook jollof rice, as a bag of rice now costs a half-year salary. But Tibunu had already moved on to his next trick: Cybersecurity levy! 


Within days, inflation spiked. With a flick of his wrist, he made prices soar higher than a kite on a windy day. Well, even in their hardship-weary state, the Nigerian people shouted so loud against the cybersecurity-whatever that Tibunu had to retreat with that. For now.


"Oga sir," the Nigerian people protested, "how are we supposed to afford the basic necessities of life when inflation is running amok?"


Tibunu simply shrugged and replied, "Ah, but my dear citizens, inflation is the spice of life! It adds a little flavor to the economy, like sprinkling salt on a bowl of garri. We need humble citizens. Hardship makes people humble!”



And so, the Nigerian people found themselves caught in Tibunu's web of tricks and illusions, struggling to make ends meet while their pockets grew lighter and their patience  thinner. 


As Tibunu's antics continued wreak havoc on the economy, they appeared like a deliberate coffin for Nigerians. A never-ending cycle of absurdity and hardship. With each new day, the situation grew more surreal, like a twisted game of economic roulette. The odds  always stacked against the average citizen.


But amidst the chaos and absurdity, the Nigerian people, resilient and resourceful as ever, refused to be defeated. Instead, they shared jokes and memes, m turning the Tibunu-induced pains into cheers!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I DID A DNA TEST AND I WAS SHOCKED!

  Chief Oga was livid, eyes red like fresh tomatoe! He strode into his lavish living room, waving a DNA test result, as if it was  a winning lottery ticket. His voice boomed with indignation as he confronted his wife, who’s calmly scrolling through her phone as if nothing was amiss. Chief Oga: Adunni, this DNA test says Junior isn’t mine! What have you got to say to that?” The wife raised one eyebrow and returned to her phone. “Oh, dear. Must we discuss this now? I’m busy with Tapswap, I must win N10 billion in one minute from this virtual money. After that, I’ve Telemundo and Candy Crush Tournaments. Today is the finals.” Chief Oga: “When do you want to discuss it? When Junior is old enough to get married?“ Okay, Chief Oga just found out that his 9-year-old son was, ironically, not his. That discovery was part of a growing trend that’s recently turned DNA testing into Nigeria’s national pastime. Yet, the implications are far from trivial. Nigeria, a land where drama is a...

Losing My Senses

    I’ve been thinking. In the face of much disenchantment, what would happen if I lost my senses. Like many a depressed Nigerian, the mind veers off sometimes. Then, I wonder if life would be better without “number 5.”    If, for instance, I lost my power of “taste,” I could eat just anything, couldn’t I? That, I’m sure, would be the solution to the Obasanjo-induced hunger in the land. I could swallow stone, the way I do  eba , and still go on strong. On the other hand, I may not even be hungry, since I’d have no feeling,  abi ?  Indeed, I won’t need to know if a particular food had salt or fish or meat in it. It wouldn’t matter if the dish were Yoruba, Igbira, Efik, Igbo, Ibibio, Hausa, etc. Just stuff the thing down the throat, drink water and say thank you. I could drink tea with vinegar and lick my lips like I just had a breakfast of sugar sauce. All those would save me the problem of having to buy those tiny things that seem inconsequential but a...

Time to Name Our Own Hurricanes

  I don’t know why the “civilised” world picks names for disasters without considering Nigeria. It’s unfair to ignore a country that has borne the burden of every African nation, except Nigeria. Nigeria has tried, I swear by the biggest Bible. The biggest Quran. And my big head!   “Oyinbo” people are so selfish. Imagine, of all the names of natural disasters, none is African. No, Nigerian. That’s why I sent away my maid named Katrina. “Oyinbo” even name hurricanes after saints, girlfriends, years and First Ladies. One was named “Bess,” after President Harry Truman’s wife. Imagine! Why can’t they name one “Hurricane Stella”?   Anyway, I suspect the Americans are at the centre of this conspiracy. To deprive Nigeria of its God-given endowments. See, we may not have enough “natural disasters” to compete with the Western world. But our politicians and their families are enough in that category. And, we have created some disasters of national dimension, haven’t we?  I...