… where sa-tyres never go flat
… where sa-tyres never go flat
It will be recalled that, last week, Nigeria imported a draconian from Singapore called the Control of Infectious Diseases Bill. The T.A. understands that its actual name is the Infectious Diseases Act Pro Max, a slightly upgraded model of the original law enacted in 1977.
Speaking of gold, I apologise for the delay in the latest shipment. That rodent—you see how he keeps coming up?—has been attacking the mines. You’d think the country with the largest reserve of minerals in the world would be able to shrug off disruptions caused by a ragtag band? I’m surrounded by incompetents. I might take your daughter’s suggestion and insist appointed ministers are vetted first. But we would need a legislature in place for that.
I didn’t forget that this incorruptible major-general is for everybody and for nobody. This is why he could proudly identify with his children’s numerous foreign certificates, but not with their tuitions. This is natural; honest major-generals don’t like stains on their starched khakis. They won’t look kindly at you if you blow the kakaki when you see their long, lean hands in the hot pot of soup and the palm oil tell-tale on their bony lips. Abeg, don’t ask me where the money could have come from; manna still falls in the Katsina desert, you unbeliever!
