Punocracy

… where sa-tyres never go flat

From Our AlliesPolitics

The parable of the shrewd father

My grandfather? A jolly old chap he is! But he forbids politics and all government-related palavers. Such things bother him a great deal. Only two things matter to him – pool betting and palm wine. He is simple like that. Anyhow, when I got home and my grandfather pulled me aside to lament how the hardship caused by some imbecile government policies had affected pool betting and the price of palm wine, I knew there was trouble.

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From Our AlliesPolitics

Nigeria as a dilapidated Micra cab

Our leader–Man of the Pee Poo pulls out the car manual, but it’s written in Chinese, a language he can’t comprehend except the “one-year warranty” part. So he begins the journey with the words, “We go run am.” But not long after, a stench reaches the noses of the passengers. With concern, they suggest he hand over to Obi, a more qualified driver, as the journey is too far. However, he dismisses their worries with a nonchalant, “Just get me quality diapers.”

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From Our AlliesPolitics

The ant colony—or political parables about a certain country

The worker ants are those government workers commuting between anthills of metal and glass, wearing threadbare suits and those fancy puppy leashes they call ties. They weightlift crumbs of the national cake bigger than their own financial size to pay homage to the colonial masters before ultimately falling apart, appendage by appendage, to be sustained only by the trickle of nutrients we call pension.

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From Our AlliesPolitics

Radio talk: ‘The election tribunal decision will favour me and my family’

Now, we will open the line for callers to contribute. The topic we have been discussing is: Ahead of the election tribunal judgement, what is your opinion? You already know the rules. Move away from your radio set. Do not use swear words. Remember, we are in the state of the ọmọlúàbí. And mention your name and where you are calling from. Hello, good morning.

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From Our AlliesPolitics

An old man’s sleep talk

At about 3:00 a.m., just before dawn on Wednesday, 15th of March, 2023, a chocolate-coloured old man, with a bald head, deserted beard and moustache, baggy face and fading eyes, stretches on his bed made of gold in his well-furnished master bedroom and begins a sleep talk that lasts for two hours. The white blanket that shields half of his body before now folds out over his uncontrolled stretch.

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