Senator And A Purchased Judgement
Since the searchlights rotated to the temple of justice, it has been a bounteous harvest of sleazy tales all the way. The other day, you heard of how top judges were herded to detention in the dead of the night like Sallah rams over allegations of merchandising judgements.
In case you thought that was the end, then you need to hear the pathetic story of the election petition involving our friend, the “area boy” senator from the province where two famous rivers converge. Since he found his way into the upper chamber last year, our friend has often conducted himself in an infantile manner, sometimes threatening to rape other men’s wives, so much that many were beginning to wonder if he did not actually miss his way into the hall.
Recall that our friend ran on the broom platform and managed to defeat an incumbent, his townsman. But no sooner had he been declared winner by a slim margin than the opponent cried blue murder. Among other irregularities, the latter tendered the result from a critical community written on a mere sheet of paper without the letter-head of the electoral umpire.
Nothing could be more fake, he contended.
In fact, this was the crux of the legal fire-work marshalled by his team at the court. But curiously, the prayer of the petitioner was turned down at the tribunal. Undaunted, he headed for the appeal court. It was at that juncture he got the shock of his life!
After weeks of impassioned arguments, the presiding judge finally made an offer. According to a petition written by the applicant and submitted to the sanctioning council, based on the obvious soundness of the argument of result written on a piece of paper without the umpire’s imprint, the presiding judge had prepared a judgement that would upturn the victory of the “area boy” senator but on one basis: payment of 200 million cowries as “kola” to him. This was communicated to the petitioner’s counsel through their usual underground channel.
Unfortunately, the petitioner was not ready to play ball as he simply pleaded that the election had rendered him broke.
Pronto, the “chop chop” judge sold the judgement to the defendant who was more than willing to play ball.
With the renewed clampdown on sleaze on the bench, supporters of the petitioner are praying that the case be revisited.
Nocturnal SMS as smoking gun
By now, you must be familiar with the story of the “rofo rofo” fight within the broom party over who flies its flag in the contest to decide the next gomina in the state with abundant sunshine. You must have read the allegations and counter-allegations of rigging in the internal poll it recently held. And now, that has pitted the fabled political lion whose den is located near the Lagoon against his erstwhile allies in the rocky city.
Of course, the rim glasses-wearing lion is feeling particularly sore over the matter, believing that this case of stolen ticket was orchestrated by “Oga at the top” alongside his boys scout to whittle down his influence in the land of Oduduwa, especially coming after the earlier “mago mago” perpetrated against his interest in the confluence state where the guy who came last in the internal poll was dramatically made the inheritor of the votes following the dramatic death of the original flag-bearer, the fair-skinned prince, to deny the original “second calabash”, the lion’s protege, the gomina’s mantle.
Trust the lion of Lagoon to deploy all his arsenal to get to the bottom of the matter.
If he ever harboured any scintilla of doubt, it evaporated upon the unearthing of the text message between the conspirators based in the Rocky city in the early hours of the D-Day detailing how the dirty deed was executed and who was in charge of herding the fake delegates to the poll venue.
Hmm.
The story just began. We shall keep you posted.
King and the Eko builder
When the Oga Patapata of a building company was bundled into detention months back following the collapse of a high-rise building they were handling, he was inclined to suspect his ordeal was the handiwork of the fine-boy king of perhaps the most historic town in Oduduwa land. Why?
Long before the building project unravelled in a high-brow neighbourhood of the state with aquatic splendor, Oga builder and then fine-boy Prince were engaged in a bust-up over the latter’s derisive comment about the former’s job quality. By the way, before good fortune smiled on the fine-boy Prince and catapulted him to the coveted throne once occupied by the acclaimed progenitor of the people of the setting sun, he was also into estate development. That naturally made him a keen competitor of Oga builder whose own company adopts a five-lettered name of a posh neighborhood of the state famous for its lagoon.
That day, it took the concerted efforts of passers-by to stop the duo from exchanging blows. In fact, Oga builder, we gathered, had yanked off his shirt and was poised to engage his six-footer quarry in some Tysonic exchange.
Though Armageddon was averted that day, both men didn’t quite bury the hatchet.
So, when the gomina of the state of aquatic splendour ordered the arrest and prosecution of Oga builder for poor job that led to the death of tens of workmen on site, his sympathizers were inclined to suspect that, maybe, the fine-boy monarch was the one pulling the strings.
Pity, we cannot confirm this.
Police highway corruption: Michael Nwankonye as poster boy
With the land increasingly becoming hot for even judges suspected of corruption, one would expect that lesser mortals like cops would, at least, learn to lie low, or turn a new leaf.
But as they say, sweet leaves kill the gluttonous goat. This was the case of one Michael Nwankonye on October 18. He led a police patrol team along the busy Shagamu-Ore highway. Having set up their “shop” around the Ijebu-ode axis, gun-toting Nwankonye and co went on an extortion spree of hapless motorists.
Omni-present Confidential witnessed the show of shame live, so it is not a question of hearsay. What a show of shame indeed!
It was not only his conduct that was pathetic; he was full of theatrics as well, leaving no one in doubt he was already high on local gin.
There would always be one excuse to ask motorists for “roger”. Even when your vehicle particulars were okay and there was nothing to hold against you, then you would be coaxed to pay for the “service” (inspection carried out)!
With the high volume of traffic on that route, we can only imagine the fortune they make daily, with their black-painted Hilux patrol van parked nearby serving more as “bullion van”.
In the name of all that is decent, we call on the Inspector General to end this. Comedian Nwankonye is a disgrace to the service. To begin with, recall him and his “business partners” from the highway.
