12, Idi-Oro Street,
Isale Mango,
Abule Fangbohun,
Ifemuwaro LGA.
15th July, 2026.
The Council Representative,
Ifemuwaro LGA.
Dear Sir,
LETTER OF BEGGING
Good morning, sir. How are you doing today, sir? I hope everything is going well for you and your family. My neighbour’s son said I should not greet you too much, that this is a formal letter. But what do kids of these days know? That is why they are so insolent. I greet you, sir. I greet you and I thank you for the many beautiful things you are doing for our area. Your hand has touched us and our families. If I start listing everything you have done for us, I will run out of ink. It is only the short-sighted or the blind who will claim not to see it.
We are still enjoying the transformer that you got for our street, although it eventually blew because people in this place don’t know how to manage light. We are also grateful for the borehole tank that you installed in our community. Even though it has been a month since it was completed and you have not come to inaugurate it due to your busy schedule, it has added to the beauty of our community. For all these and many other things, we really appreciate you.
I am writing this letter to beg you for your help. I know you are very busy, but a lot of things have been happening in our community that have necessitated the need for your urgent intervention. I would not be doing this if it were not absolutely necessary.
First and foremost, ever since the election finished, there has been an increase in gang violence. Normally, we used to have Egbon Adugbo (area boys/street urchins) beating people. But now, some unfamiliar faces have joined them. Just last week, there was a skirmish between Abule Fangbohun area boys and Orita Shoko area boys. We are so lucky our area boys won, or else we would have been in deep trouble because rumour has it that Orita Shoko area boys collect thrice what our boys collect and that they also harass young women and girls. Our own area boys don’t even do that. You sha saw how well-behaved they were during your campaign.
Meanwhile, the new DPO that was brought in after the election has not done anything tangible to address this issue. I even heard that some of the Shoko boys who were apprehended and handed over to the police force were released barely hours after the clash, following the orders of one senator. They are still roaming around today. We are now scared for our lives because we heard that the Orita Shoko boys are coming back.
The new DPO did not even do anything about it. He even threw our Baale (community head) in jail when that one went to meet him, which is interesting because that was the same thing he did when Kofoworola’s land was encroached upon by some developers. Kofo did not do anything wrong; he only went to the police station with a court order to probably get a police escort when the DPO ordered him to be locked up.
Also, my wife begged me to include the fact that we need urgent intervention for our social amenities. Our roads, schools, healthcare centres and other public facilities are rapidly decaying. We need help. To illustrate how bad the situation is, I will tell you a story. You see, my friend Baba Kamoru is a taxi driver. His Nissan is his only source of income. That car got damaged due to the wear and tear of plying the death traps that are our constituency roads. A mechanic quoted him roughly two hundred thousand naira to fix it. But Baba Kamoru could not afford that amount as his wife was pregnant.
In order not to be idle, he borrowed my own car to use for his taxi service. Two days ago, his wife, Iya Kamoru, went into labour. The local healthcare centre was barely 10 kilometres away, but it took the couple up to an hour to get there. He had to take a longer route so that he would not ruin my car. Upon getting to the healthcare centre, there were complications arising from the birth and the facility did not have the expertise and resources needed to handle them. They were referred to the big city. Long story short, Iya Kamoru died overnight.
Seeing all this, I decided that I would reach out to you. You used to be my senior in secondary school. I know you will not allow your constituency members to continue facing hardship. As I type this, the grave diggers have started digging the grave for Iya Kamoru. Please don’t let this problem continue to fester. Help us look into these issues. We beg of you.
We saw what you did at Ifekowajo; we beg for your support in doing the same for us too.
P.S. We would like you to know that we are strongly behind you. Just last week, my wife and kids and I went to your rally, but we couldn’t see you. Please be well.
Your loyal supporter,
Ishola Orimurewa
25th September, 2026.
The Council Representative,
Ifemuwaro LGA.
Dear Sir,
LETTER OF INTENSE BEGGING
As always, it feels really good to write to you. We got the bags of rice, beans, and other food provisions you sent to us. In fact, we haven’t even started eating the garri you added to the package. But matters have escalated since I last wrote to you.
Seeing that it was weeks after we had written to you without getting a single word of reply, we decided to try to take our destiny into our own hands. We went to see if we could put a foot down against our oppressors: the thugs, the policemen, and other backdoor godfathers. Our first stop was the police station. When we got there, we let the DPO know that actions like his would not be allowed to stand in our community, as this is your home base; he wasn’t stunned. But he let our frail Baale go.
In the weeks that followed, we had increased cases of gang violence, with the Orita Shoko boys returning with renewed venom. What is surprising is the fact that, on a couple of occasions, police officers accompanied these thugs. The DPO himself was there, and he watched with arms akimbo as these thugs assaulted innocent members of the community and carted away their properties. When we went to his station to confront him (with a lawyer present this time), he told us that the Shoko boys we saw were repentant thugs who were cooperating with his officers to apprehend the Abule Fangbohun area boys. I was stunned. We even showed him the video. Everything was there clearly. His policemen were standing there while the boys were beating people. Yet the DPO said what we were watching was part of their operation. But there was nothing we could do. So we left.
A few days after we visited his office, some land developers, accompanied by hefty-looking louts, invaded my good friend Ajayi’s land. When Ajayi went to confront them, I was with him. We were both beaten and tied up before the DPO’s men came to take us away. They didn’t even give us a chance to explain. They saw hefty-looking men, but they decided to arrest the guys who were beaten up. It was later that we learned that the developers had a letter with a federal seal and a designation stating that it now belonged to one Senator Ajisepupo. My friend was dejected. That land had been in his family for generations, and he lost it without even a penny in restitution.
Ajayi was not the only one affected. Several other residents of the Fangbohun area were. Some of them were able to retain the services of lawyers to attack this injustice, but it was to no avail. The developers, in some cases, even demolished standing structures where people clearly still lived. It was a dark week for us. Perhaps to rub it in, when we wanted to eat that night, the land developer louts went from house to house, scooping a portion from whatever each family cooked. I kid you not.
Our community has become an unsafe space. Our kids cannot even go to school freely like they used to. The land developer touts and the Orita Shoko boys have now taken over their classrooms as the designated smoking spots. There have also been increasing cases of clashes between these two groups, throwing ordinary community dwellers into a panic. But I’ve been telling people here that, in line with your campaign and political mandate, you are the one who is responsible for us. You even said that if you failed to get us the best life possible, we should not vote you in and that we should even recall you. I’ve been telling people you said this to show them your commitment to us, which is why I’ve been desperately trying to draw your attention to how dire our situation is.
When you came to our community last week as the father of the day for a lecture, I tried my best to meet up with you and brief you one-on-one. But your escorts and bodyguard would not let me get to you. In case you’ve forgotten, I was the guy in neon green who was bundled out while you were reading your speech. I don’t know how your guys even knew who I was. They just came to meet me where I was sitting and hastily bundled me out.
Lest I forget, I think you need to look into the makeup and structure of your staff. The answer we got from the last letter was not anywhere close to what we needed. I think this is perhaps due to your staff mixing up the requests. I wonder what would happen to the community that actually requested garri and other foodstuffs. They would be really frustrated. An intervention in their security problems, gang issues, and failing social amenities would probably not really make sense to them.
Please, help us look into these issues hastily. We appreciate all your hard work.
Yours sincerely,
Ishola Orimurewa
15th January, 2027.
The Council Representative,
Ifemuwaro LGA.
Dear Sir,
LETTER OF ANGER AND DISAPPOINTMENT
The Yoruba proverb states that the worm eating the vegetable is located right beneath it. And seeing how you’ve been acting in the past few weeks, I have to say that I now understand that particular saying. I got your court notice today. And I think I’m beginning to figure out the kind of person you are. You are the most evil and self-centred individual to ever walk the face of this earth.
How did this circus even begin? Ehn? Since when has it become criminal to demand better representation? Well, maybe it’s because of the following years of abandonment; we, the people of Fangbohun, decided to get behind Ajayi, my friend who lost his land due to your incompetence. It would appear that competition is the only language you understand because, all of a sudden, you became the most proactive lawmaker ever. This is especially true now that the influential members of your party are rallying behind my boy.
But if we are being completely honest, you have to be the most unfortunate individual in the world. The work you sent contractors to do was undone the same week they came. The road you told them to grade was flooded, the paint washed off the facilities they painted, and the community centre that you hastily had built collapsed and nearly killed some of the labourers on site. And trust me, yours is the first instance where I will see a borehole catch fire. The people have rejected you; the soul and spirit of the community have rejected you. You don’t even have any shallow project to hide behind.
Let’s not forget about the series of unfortunate events that have happened to me or those close to me since I started reaching out to you. After exercising my democratic right to contact my council rep, the last thing I expected was legal threats or even physical or spiritual attacks. I was only passionately sharing this information with you to keep you informed, but now I’m being accused of cyberbullying? Really? After all we’ve been through together from primary school till now, is this what you’ve become? I still can’t believe it.
Instead of trying to fix what you should, you started sending people to directly or indirectly threaten me and compel me to stop “campaigning against you.” Thank god for opposition party members who rallied around me. I would have disappeared, and nobody would have batted an eyelid. They didn’t even consider how nasty I was towards them during the last election. They simply did everything to shield me from the various traps you set for me, from run-ins with corrupt policemen to attempted kidnappings to the demolition of my property. God sees us all.
So, seeing how I rejected all your entreaties, you sent your boys to come and rough me up. They took my nephew, my sister’s oldest son. They took him for over 36 hours. By the time they brought him back, the boy could barely walk. The Orisha that we took him to said your boys (who knows, maybe it was even you) hit him with a charm that would make his blood dry up. Thank God for Jesus and for Orisha; the boy survived. But your political career will most definitely not. You will ask for bread, and God will give you stone. You will ask for good roads, and God will give you garri. You will ask for soft drinks, and he will give you urine.
This constituency is my home as much as it is yours. What am I even saying? This isn’t even your home! Even the members of your family disowned you at their family meeting last week! There is nothing you can do to dissuade me from trying to get a better life for our people. And I assure you, you haven’t heard the last of this.
Proud son of the soil,
Ishola Orimurewa
15th June, 2027.
The Ex-Council Representative,
Ifemuwaro LGA.
Dear Sir,
NOBODY KNOWS TOMORROW, NOT EVEN YOU
I just love elections. They show you what the people really think of you, especially when you perform so badly that they have to come out with mats and sticks to protect their votes in order to prevent any foul play. What else were you expecting after such an abysmal and underwhelming performance? A medal?
How’s retirement feeling? I hope you are getting lots of rest. That’s all you did when you were in the office after all—holiday and rest. You’ll have plenty of time for that now. I just love the way you’re not contesting the election results. You are a graceful loser, but you are a loser regardless. In fact, I would like you to know, in case the people under you did not tell you, that I am the main force behind your loss. Oh yes, I am. Before the day of the election, I walked around and mobilised the youths of our community to get their permanent voter cards. I faced several challenges, mainly because, due to your complacency, our constituency was even overlooked for voter registration, despite being the largest in the state.
But I didn’t let that deter me. I formed alliances with other aggrieved and injured parties, community leaders, religious clerics, NGOs, and various other individuals who wanted change and got them to work on it. Even when they delayed in sending people from the electoral commission, I, on my own dime, provided a bus to transport our people from Fangbohun to Ifekowajo every day till the electoral committee members eventually came to set up shops in our community.
Apart from voter registration, I was also the one who spoke to the other parties about forming a coalition, just to beat you. I didn’t want to take any chances on a split opposition. You see, I don’t like politics. It is a dirty and exhausting game. God has blessed me with everything I need in this life. All I want is adequate representation, a simple ask that you failed to grant. Your colleagues and federal officials even contacted me to plead for assistance. But I let them know that if they interfered in what we were trying to do, we would start a revolution that would topple the affairs of the ruling party. Why else do you think they abandoned you?
I acknowledge that I saw your handiwork too. Like on election day, when I suddenly had piles. We don’t even have piles in my family. I found a way to obtain adult diapers, which I used throughout the whole exercise to make sure that the work I built over the course of many months did not fall into ruin. The thugs you mobilised to disrupt the exercise were no match for us. I have to admit, it was rather sad to see the people you hired slowly start walking out on the job you paid them to do, seeing how the people they came to disrupt were in no mood for any funny or violent shenanigans.
Watching your men walk away was the clearest sign that your empire of promises had finally collapsed. Four years ago, we cheered for you. You promised us gold and delivered ashes, choosing to enrich yourself while leaving us in the dust. Consider this election a lesson in payback and political arithmetic. I told you in my last letter that nothing would stop me from lifting our people, and as you sit in your quiet living room today, I hope you can see I meant every word.
Everyone else calls me Orimurewa, but you may call me the kingmaker.
Your ex-supporter,
Ishola Orimurewa
15th January, 2028.
The Ex-Council Representative,
Ifemuwaro LGA.
Dear Sir,
LETTER OF BEGGING
How are you and your family? I greet you as one would greet a legendary hero of the common folk and a renowned man of the people. Exceptional men like you are scarce. I’m sorry about how things spiralled between us. I take responsibility for my part in it. I heard that you’ve made peace with some of the stakeholders in our constituency. I also see the steps you’re taking: the scholarship, the women empowerment and the hospital and orphanage donations; I see it all.
In my last letter to you, I told you nobody knows tomorrow. As it turns out, not even I do. Life keeps throwing our constituency curveballs. I’m sure it’s not even about character development anymore. I think natural selection might be about to come into play for us here, natural selection in which none of us in your old constituency survives. Personally, I think if I have to digest another irony, I’d probably have a stroke and die. I’m sure you have seen it in the news. Our new rep, Ajayi, is doing wonders.
The last thing I expected upon his resumption of office was for him to partner with the original people tormenting us. But that was the first thing he did. I heard that when you were in office, you used to collect hundreds of millions from people and companies in order to look away from the wrongs they were doing in your community. But our dear Ajayi is not even doing that. He charges less than one-third of that; on occasion, he even gives them free rein without collecting a dime.
I heard he is now in cahoots with the Senator Ajisepupo, who has been harassing us. The latter has become his political godfather. Meanwhile, our community has been driven into near ruin. The Orita Shoko boys have since driven out our area boys and have taken over the community. They inflict pain and torment on us on a daily basis. Your dad was even one of their victims. He was beaten so badly he spent a week in intensive care. Other people are not spared. So many parents have been turned into premature grandparents, as many of the school-age girls have been impregnated by these louts. The thoughtful ones among us have sent their kids far away from this place.
The DPO in charge of this place has been changed. I think the last one disagreed with them on how much he would be paid. So, they replaced him with a native of the community. That one is not even any better. All he does is sit around in his office all day. It is as though we do not have any police presence in the community at all.
Meanwhile, more members of the community have lost their properties under this harsh dictatorship. The crude oil that was discovered initially got some people forced off their properties without any hope of compensation. Next, the oil companies came in. They didn’t bother to meet the real members of the community. They only met with Ajayi, the senator and the Shoko boys. And when the side effects of their actions started showing – the tainted water, the air pollution – no one came to advocate for us. Recently, even the Shoko boys have reduced how frequently they appear in our community due to how terrible it has become.
As I write this, I’m lying on a hospital bed with a broken leg and crushed ribs, a result of me trying to accost my constituency rep. When I got to Ajayi’s new house, after weeks of him dodging my increasingly desperate requests for a meeting, he ordered his driver to run me over. I’m sure that’s what happened because when he hit me the first time, he reversed and hit me once again. My injuries are serious, but the wounds that our community has suffered since you left are far more grave. Walking through the community these days, you can just feel that the spirit of the place has been sucked away.
It was not this bad during the days of your Olugbon. At least you used to give us garri. This new guy doesn’t even do that. In fact, I can boldly say that none of us in this community has ever received anything from him, except for his gratitude when he won, of course. That was the last time most of us saw him.
P.S. Come and do one more term, please. Sola said you will call me. I will be looking forward to your call
Your number one supporter,
Ishola Orimurewa
Oluwagbenga Kolawole is a writer and political thinker with a deep respect for the style of Amos Tutuola’s The Palmwine Drinkard. In his spare time, he can be found blowing bubbles, fighting crime, or staring suspiciously at the news. He is also a husband to several beautiful women and the boyfriend of one beautiful lady, to all of whom he remains entirely faithful. He is the reigning champion of the World Sarcasm Federation Championship, a title he takes very seriously. You can catch up with him on Substack at thekaygeepapers.substack.com or on X at @olukolawole_.
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