It was one of those days, like so many before it, after long hours slaving at work but with admittedly half of those hours spent on Linda Ikeji's blog wondering when the god of Range Rover that did hers would do mine, I somehow meander my vehicle through traffic to my favourite get- away joint.
To avid readers of this blog; that's myself, my mum, my two friends and my dog Wike( to my Rivers people, that's pronounced 'why-k' and not like your future governor's name by any chance) this joint should be as familiar to you as the vivid smell of corruption as you drive though the streets of uptown Abuja!
Ahhhhh, Mama Nkechi's 'Garden of Happiness'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A.K.A Green Bottle Cathedral.
A place where folks gather to let off the pent up frustrations of their slowly ebbing lives in a steaming bowl of ridiculously huge catfish pepper soup and to also see if by any chance they could find the key to their success in life at the bottom of a cold bottle of Star Lager!
If Mama Nkechi, God bless the mother that taught her to cook, knew the number of lives her famous 'Noah's Ark' pepper soup had saved from the interminable frustrations of modern day Nigeria, she'd probably contest for office; LGA Chairman or something.
Lesser folks have been known to rule us in greater offices!
Anyway, this night was no exception and the usual lively ruckus associated with places of ethanol worship as this was already brewing.
The music blaring from the back speakers was one that took me to a time of less responsibility and pressure.
A time of 20Naira gala, 25Naira Coke and 100Naira to a Dollar!
'All the Hausa girls,
Ibo girls,
Even Yoruba girls dem...................................'
Ahh! Like a debt conveniently forgotten, the name of the artiste kept escaping me but the rhythm did its work of shuffling me ever closer to the bar.
But as I got close to the bar proper, I noticed the ruckus was a bit more rowdy than usual and I could clearly see a fairly large crowd gathered bang in the centre of the pub over a seemingly dying man.
The man was so skinny, you'd wonder where any catfish with an iota of self esteem would stay.
Apparently, this self respecting piece of fish bone was stuck in his throat and the poor fella was flailing his arms and gasping for breath like the folks at the Rock called Aso drowning in corruption!
''Okoli, 'match' the 'stomuch' '' roared a loud voice from the back.
''I say press this man belle well well''
''Mama Nkechi, is like ya customer haf swallow bone oh'' bellowed the man, though still apparently more interested in the aquatic captive on his plate than for his dying comrade-at-the-bottles!
Luckily for the man, God and a few well practiced compressions to his tummy by the bar's owner ensured the offending piece of bone was dislodged from his wind pipe and all was on its way to been well with the world again!
''Nne, you won't believe it! This same thing do me for 1983 for one joint for Owerri like that!!!'' The fellow who we had all come to know as Hygenius, recounted to Mama Nkechi as he slowly made his way up.
''That time Buhari just pursue Shagari commot for office. In fact Nne, na around this December time sef!''
''Bros Hygenius, this same Buhari wey Twitter say wan contest next 'yeah' so?'' Asked a young man, who couldn't have been a day older than sixteen from the front.
At this point, I'd like to be socially correct and pretend the young fella was sipping on a cold bottle of Fanta but unless in the midst of the fish brouhaha, Fantas now came in large green bottles, I'd say we all, in the revered words of Oristsefemi, let the boy ''Spend his money any way he likes it oh''
''Yes my brother! This same Buhari! Dem fit never born your papa sef that time.''
''As him neck thin now, na so him neck thin that time!''
''One naira, Buhari no thief!''
At this point, Mama Nkechi who usually was more interested in ensuring nobody drank a free bottle 'on her head' joined the discussion.
''No be lie Hygenius, I remember that time well''
''As Buhari dey fight corruption among politicians dem, na so he dey fight indiscipline for the country.''
''Dem no born ya Papa make you no queue for Bus-Stop!''
The entire bar rattled in agreement, at least those old enough to remember.
Just as the din was settling, a slow rattling noise filled the room. It was the sound of Prof, a sinewy elderly man better known at the bar for his taste in girls so young, they were probably not born when he last had a working set of molars, trying to get up with his cane.
''It seems you all have had your memories of Buhari obfuscated by the denudation that time inevitably brings.'' he started impressively but ultimately meaninglessly.
''This Buhari you all herald as a champion of discipline and anti-corruption was nothing but a dictator who hounded politicians and dissidents into the gulag and had his military boys harass ordinary Nigerians into obedience by floggings, executions and frog jumps on the streets!'' he continued.
By God, I could tell from the poorly timed exclamations around the bar that half the patrons did not have the vaguest idea what the elderly gentleman just said.
He could as well have told us all to go take a nap on one of Reno Omokri's much touted GEJ trains for all we cared!
''Do we still have corruption and indiscipline today?''
''Did his much touted economic policies of Buharism work?''
''Apart from failed abductions and extraditions did he achieve anything to gain us international acclaim?'' Prof kept at it never the less.
These were strong words and the Cathedral fell silent as I had never heard in my many years of worship.
We all looked at each other for a response to Prof's very true words and we were all dumbfouned.
But as Aristotle once wisely said ' they're looking for the formula, from here down to South Africa........" or was it Don Jazzy?
Anyway, in life sometimes, where the answer or should we say the formula arises from may be as confounding as the problem!
'Okoli press the stomuch' had taken time to look up from his plate with a look of deep contemplation and spoke.
'But Sir, could we also argue'' he began, in diction so refined that our earlier thoughts that a good portion of his brain lay in his pot belly may have been unfounded after all.
''Could we also argue, that enough time was not given to allow his economic policies bear fruit and indeed in the short term, we witnessed a marked improvement in the behaviour and indeed public composure of Nigerians?''
''Would it be a lie to say that in his time as the Petroleum Trust Fund (PTF) Chairman, evidence of this fund's influence was seen across the country unlike a certain unsure SURE-PEE?''
''More importantly has anyone pointed an accusatory finger of corruption at the good General in all these years?''
''In these difficult times, is this not the sort of leader we need?''
''And please spare me the Islamist propaganda!'' he ended.
''Mama Nkechi.! Mama Nkechi!! Mama Nkechi!!! Give this man stout! I say give this man one big stout!!!!'' yelled the teenage boy as the entire pub broke into 'hmms' and 'ahhhhsss' at 'Okoli's' oration.
As this point, it dawned on us and indeed Mama Nkechi that we still had a grossly under aged boy in our midst at an ungodly hour.
''Oya, Chibuzor come dey go house! Ya Mama don dey fine you!''
Face tired and with drunken legs barely able to hold his weight, the boy staggered to his feet and on his way out quipped '' Mama Nkechi, he be like say Bros Hygenius ( of swallowed bone fame) no dey breath again. Is like your customer haf die oh!!!!!!!!!!''.
No wonder he's been quiet for a while!
P.S: The FlipOut Corner is still on the twitter machine @doctorrotcod and still does not hold an opinion and loves all the candidates.
To avid readers of this blog; that's myself, my mum, my two friends and my dog Wike( to my Rivers people, that's pronounced 'why-k' and not like your future governor's name by any chance) this joint should be as familiar to you as the vivid smell of corruption as you drive though the streets of uptown Abuja!
Ahhhhh, Mama Nkechi's 'Garden of Happiness'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A.K.A Green Bottle Cathedral.
A place where folks gather to let off the pent up frustrations of their slowly ebbing lives in a steaming bowl of ridiculously huge catfish pepper soup and to also see if by any chance they could find the key to their success in life at the bottom of a cold bottle of Star Lager!
If Mama Nkechi, God bless the mother that taught her to cook, knew the number of lives her famous 'Noah's Ark' pepper soup had saved from the interminable frustrations of modern day Nigeria, she'd probably contest for office; LGA Chairman or something.
Lesser folks have been known to rule us in greater offices!
Anyway, this night was no exception and the usual lively ruckus associated with places of ethanol worship as this was already brewing.
The music blaring from the back speakers was one that took me to a time of less responsibility and pressure.
A time of 20Naira gala, 25Naira Coke and 100Naira to a Dollar!
'All the Hausa girls,
Ibo girls,
Even Yoruba girls dem...................................'
Ahh! Like a debt conveniently forgotten, the name of the artiste kept escaping me but the rhythm did its work of shuffling me ever closer to the bar.
 |
| His name is Ollie Gee by the way. Song; Daddy Moh! |
But as I got close to the bar proper, I noticed the ruckus was a bit more rowdy than usual and I could clearly see a fairly large crowd gathered bang in the centre of the pub over a seemingly dying man.
The man was so skinny, you'd wonder where any catfish with an iota of self esteem would stay.
Apparently, this self respecting piece of fish bone was stuck in his throat and the poor fella was flailing his arms and gasping for breath like the folks at the Rock called Aso drowning in corruption!
''Okoli, 'match' the 'stomuch' '' roared a loud voice from the back.
''I say press this man belle well well''
''Mama Nkechi, is like ya customer haf swallow bone oh'' bellowed the man, though still apparently more interested in the aquatic captive on his plate than for his dying comrade-at-the-bottles!
Luckily for the man, God and a few well practiced compressions to his tummy by the bar's owner ensured the offending piece of bone was dislodged from his wind pipe and all was on its way to been well with the world again!
''Nne, you won't believe it! This same thing do me for 1983 for one joint for Owerri like that!!!'' The fellow who we had all come to know as Hygenius, recounted to Mama Nkechi as he slowly made his way up.
''That time Buhari just pursue Shagari commot for office. In fact Nne, na around this December time sef!''
''Bros Hygenius, this same Buhari wey Twitter say wan contest next 'yeah' so?'' Asked a young man, who couldn't have been a day older than sixteen from the front.
At this point, I'd like to be socially correct and pretend the young fella was sipping on a cold bottle of Fanta but unless in the midst of the fish brouhaha, Fantas now came in large green bottles, I'd say we all, in the revered words of Oristsefemi, let the boy ''Spend his money any way he likes it oh''
''Yes my brother! This same Buhari! Dem fit never born your papa sef that time.''
''As him neck thin now, na so him neck thin that time!''
''One naira, Buhari no thief!''
At this point, Mama Nkechi who usually was more interested in ensuring nobody drank a free bottle 'on her head' joined the discussion.
''No be lie Hygenius, I remember that time well''
''As Buhari dey fight corruption among politicians dem, na so he dey fight indiscipline for the country.''
''Dem no born ya Papa make you no queue for Bus-Stop!''
The entire bar rattled in agreement, at least those old enough to remember.
Just as the din was settling, a slow rattling noise filled the room. It was the sound of Prof, a sinewy elderly man better known at the bar for his taste in girls so young, they were probably not born when he last had a working set of molars, trying to get up with his cane.
''It seems you all have had your memories of Buhari obfuscated by the denudation that time inevitably brings.'' he started impressively but ultimately meaninglessly.
''This Buhari you all herald as a champion of discipline and anti-corruption was nothing but a dictator who hounded politicians and dissidents into the gulag and had his military boys harass ordinary Nigerians into obedience by floggings, executions and frog jumps on the streets!'' he continued.
By God, I could tell from the poorly timed exclamations around the bar that half the patrons did not have the vaguest idea what the elderly gentleman just said.
He could as well have told us all to go take a nap on one of Reno Omokri's much touted GEJ trains for all we cared!
 |
| You seen the train? Me neither. |
''Do we still have corruption and indiscipline today?''
''Did his much touted economic policies of Buharism work?''
''Apart from failed abductions and extraditions did he achieve anything to gain us international acclaim?'' Prof kept at it never the less.
These were strong words and the Cathedral fell silent as I had never heard in my many years of worship.
We all looked at each other for a response to Prof's very true words and we were all dumbfouned.
But as Aristotle once wisely said ' they're looking for the formula, from here down to South Africa........" or was it Don Jazzy?
Anyway, in life sometimes, where the answer or should we say the formula arises from may be as confounding as the problem!
'Okoli press the stomuch' had taken time to look up from his plate with a look of deep contemplation and spoke.
'But Sir, could we also argue'' he began, in diction so refined that our earlier thoughts that a good portion of his brain lay in his pot belly may have been unfounded after all.
''Could we also argue, that enough time was not given to allow his economic policies bear fruit and indeed in the short term, we witnessed a marked improvement in the behaviour and indeed public composure of Nigerians?''
''Would it be a lie to say that in his time as the Petroleum Trust Fund (PTF) Chairman, evidence of this fund's influence was seen across the country unlike a certain unsure SURE-PEE?''
''More importantly has anyone pointed an accusatory finger of corruption at the good General in all these years?''
''In these difficult times, is this not the sort of leader we need?''
''And please spare me the Islamist propaganda!'' he ended.
''Mama Nkechi.! Mama Nkechi!! Mama Nkechi!!! Give this man stout! I say give this man one big stout!!!!'' yelled the teenage boy as the entire pub broke into 'hmms' and 'ahhhhsss' at 'Okoli's' oration.
As this point, it dawned on us and indeed Mama Nkechi that we still had a grossly under aged boy in our midst at an ungodly hour.
''Oya, Chibuzor come dey go house! Ya Mama don dey fine you!''
Face tired and with drunken legs barely able to hold his weight, the boy staggered to his feet and on his way out quipped '' Mama Nkechi, he be like say Bros Hygenius ( of swallowed bone fame) no dey breath again. Is like your customer haf die oh!!!!!!!!!!''.
No wonder he's been quiet for a while!
P.S: The FlipOut Corner is still on the twitter machine @doctorrotcod and still does not hold an opinion and loves all the candidates.
