Distinguished amazon and the flying Molue
Ask the average man on the street today, what easily comes to his mind is her involvement in the procurement of the twin, armored wonders-on-the-wheel while she was Oga Madam at the national flying department. So powerful was she that even after it was established beyond reasonable doubt that a lot of hanky-panky had taken place, the hat-loving Oga Patapata then just could not summon the courage to send her packing immediately.
A situation that led many to speculate that there was em, em, em, more to the matter between her and her boss then. The mischievous ones among these busybodies went as far as saying the hush-hush romance between her and the Oga Patapata then was the reason her chubby-faced husband ended their official marriage.
When finally she was booted out of the flying department, it was such a soft-landing. She was offloaded alongside a few other spent actors. But the patronising statement pushed out by the Rocky Villa was that they were let off so they could pursue new political aspirations. Trust Oga Madam, she did not observe any vacation at all as she quickly plunged deep into the murky politics of her native state regarded as the den of hard-boiled godfathers.
As fate would have it, she not only became the flag-bearer under the umbrella to represent her district at the elite law-making chamber in the Rocky city, but beat all the male contenders on the other platforms in the election proper as well.
That, you may say, is no more news. But you certainly have not heard how Oga Madam “chopped” and “chopped” while her tenure lasted at the flying department. A smart babe at that, she managed to wangle a means of making her “blessing” permanent. Or so she imagined. Along the line, as the story goes, she set up a “shell company”. (But we can’t confirm yet whether she sought any assistance from the same secret firm behind “Panama Papers” to register her own.)
Expectedly, Oga Madam had recruited her townsman as front for her new flying business. She ensured that every thing was perfected before she was relieved of her juicy office. But industry watchers began to suspect some monkey business when a scraggy-looking man was unveiled as the “proprietors” of the couple of refurbished “Molue” – sorry, vessels – paraded as the fleet of the new flying company in the centre of excellence not too long ago.
But since “the new Sheriff in town” set the thieves-catching agency after those who “chopped” to “quenching” level under the hat-loving Presido in the past, the truth has finally emerged. We gathered that Oga Madam’s loot has been traced to the flying company.
The story has just started. We shall keep you posted.
Fine-boy Gomina double-crosses godfather
He prefers to preface his name with the big title reserved for only one who had risen to the pinnacle of the academic ladder. Still can’t recognise him? Well, let us stimulate your imagination a little bit more.
He is brief or horizontally-challenged, the kind mischief-makers would liken to a small-Stout bottle or one who probably defaulted in the payment of “development levy” at infancy. Still can’t picture him?
He is the Gomina of a state in the oil-bearing province fabled for breeding pretty daughters of Eve who cap their natural killer endowments with unmatchable skills in the pantry. In what probably gives him away as an exhibitionist, he likes appearing in designer dark shades even in dimly-lit environment.
Before his current station, our friend had had a brief stint in the Rocky city as member of the upper chamber that makes laws for the country.
Well, you will recall that his emergence as Gomina of the land of beauties last year came as a big surprise to many, simply because some bookmakers had favoured a much bigger name as successor to the then outgoing Gomina. In fork-lifting our friend from relative anonymity, the then sitting Gomina (himself a scion of a big political family) wanted to alter the political graph of this particular state. He thought he had found a godson who would be looking up to him for guidance and counseling.
A big shocker, however, came the way of the new “godfather” shortly after his tenure expired. Rather than be his boy in the White House, the dark-goggled, small-Stout successor, we impeccably gathered, has teamed up with the enemy of his supposed “godfather” who, by the way, is no less a “fine bobo” himself and was, in fact, the Gomina that ruled before the now sulking ex-Gomina.
What further sharpened the pain and deepened the anger of the immediate past Gomina, we gathered, is that he spent all his time in office quietly dismantling everything his “fine bobo” predecessor built. Not minding those who constantly accused him of betrayal, having benefitted immensely from the latter.
Surely, Karma is still alive and kicking.
Heavy yoke off his kindergarten shoulders
It surely has been one salacious tale after another since our easy-going, fedora-wearing friend was electorally thrown out of the Rocky Villa last year. When the story is not about trillions of cowries meant to arm our hunters but criminally shared among leaders of his thieving party, then it is about how this cowboy virtually assisted his buddies and cronies loot what was left in the treasury.
That, you may say, is now old tale. But you certainly could not have heard this rather moving story of the encounter between our friend and one of his old mentors who happens to be a mega-rich retired hunter who bestrode the national stage some four decades ago. We are talking of the fearsome one who, tired of harvesting fortune from the oil block “dashed” him by the goggled dictator who infamously expired in the laps of imported Indian “apples” years back, decided to be donating billions to charity as his retirement hobby. The one who famously fell out with Baba Iyabo and sneered that he deserved a “second term” in jail for the “bad, bad things” he did while in power.
Recall that a group of “wise men” came together to form a pressure/peace committee in the build-up to the contest that led to the eviction of our friend from the Rocky Villa. The idea was to ensure peace after the announcement of the result of the contest between our friend and the lanky one who would become “the new Sheriff in town”.
Of course, contrary to the doomsday prophesied by many, peace reigned after the results were announced. Shortly after our friend and his cantankerous second half packed their bags and baggage out of the Rocky Villa, he decided to visit the old warrior in his cozy abode not too far from the Rocky Villa.
While thanking his host for being one of those who gave him strong support early in his tenancy at the Rocky Villa, he confessed that, contrary to what many felt about his humiliating defeat by the lanky one, he actually felt a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. With a boyish smile, he added that he could, at least, now sleep longer and soundly at night.
Well, this was obviously before the Pandora Box of sleaze was opened by the “new Sheriff in town”.
But he must have been taking some Valium to even nap ever since.
Mr. Fix-It seriously tongue-lashed
Still on the moves and the behind-the-scene activities of the mega-rich old warrior. Long before he teamed up with other “elders” to pressure our friend with the trademark bowler hat to take the outcome of the last year’s contest like a man, he was involved in a serious verbal altercation with another elder.
We are talking of the one and only Mr Fix-It who, by the way, is among those implicated in the looting (sorry, sharing) of trillions meant to buy bow and arrow or dane gun and gun powder for our hunters. Ever since the scandal broke, the hitherto secretive Mr Fix-It has suddenly become transparent about his health condition.
So, we are now regularly inundated with tit-bits of his medical treatment abroad that many sometimes wonder why this sudden resurrection of the Soviet Union Gorbachev-like “glasnost and perestroika” in Nigeria at this age. Well, as well-wishers of Mr Fix-It ourselves, we refuse to join those speculating that it is all part of an elaborate strategy by the old fox to evade being invited and possibly detained by the white-collar-thieves-catching agency currently cracking down on those who looted the treasury yesterday.
Sorry for that digression. Actually, the gist is about how Mr Fix-It was caught red-handed while trying to swindle the no-nonsense old warrior in his home base in Arewaland.
For those who may not be aware or have forgotten, in his active days, the specialty of Mr Fix-It was political abracadabra such that winner became loser and loser became winner.
It happened that in the build-up to the race to pick someone that would wear the colours of the umbrella to become Gomina last year, the old warrior surely had a preferred candidate in his home base. Being one of the financiers of the party, he made his choice known to all, particularly Mr Fix-It, given his reputation.
Once told, Mr Fix-It, we gathered, profusely assured the old warrior that his wish was the party’s command, being not just one of the founding fathers but also one of the biggest spenders.
But, typically, the old fox had a different agenda. He cleverly loaded the dice to disfavour the old warrior’s anointed. Unfortunately for him, while passing instruction on how this would be done to the enforcer, a third party present was said to have secretly recorded everything. He later approached the old warrior and spilled the beans, tendering the secret audio recording to back his claim.
Trust the old soldier in that situation. In a jiffy, he hopped into his SUV and raced down to the residence of Mr Fix-It in a swanky part of the Rocky city. Pacing furiously, we gathered that he refused greetings from everyone on the way until he barged into the inner chamber where Mr Fix-It was relaxing on a reclining chair.
“Don’t greet me!” he thundered to the shock of the fragile-looking Mr Fix-It about to flash his trademark saccharin smile. “How dare you attempt to double-cross me by failing my candidate in the primaries? I’ve all the reports and evidence of your subversive activities against me in my state. You just try it and see where you would end!”
With that, the old warrior turned and stormed out.
Not wanting to be devoured alive by a roaring tiger, Mr Fix-It quickly aborted his plan. That was how the old warrior’s anointed eventually emerged the “consensus candidate”.
When Interview Confidential got the news that seismic data from the Chad Basin was 90 per cent complete and that the country would start drilling for oil there before the end of this year, we were very excited. Think about the huge impact that would have not only for more revenue, but also for Nigeria’s grammar of politics. No one is sure yet whether that would also create the North’s own brood of Tompolos, but there would, at least, be an end to the South South’s blackmail. Everyone can then drink their own oil. But not so fast, it seems. An industry source told IC that the so-called potential oil find could be a hoax. The source said that experts from the Chinese national oil company had searched and searched that Basin and found nothing.
At least, nothing in significant quantity to warrant exploration. The company, which is said to be operating refineries in Chad and Niger, had made an offer under former President Olusegun Obasanjo, to pipe oil from Chad to the Kaduna refinery when it’s Chad Basin mission failed, but was rebuffed for offering a “miserly royalty” of about $100m. The Chinese must be amused to hear that a few years later, Nigeria wants to explore the same “barren” Chad Basin again. We’re watching.
