Nigeria Content Online

I am broke. At the
end of each month in America, my creditors start to bully me. They
start sending me angry envelopes with windows in them, screaming: “Pay
us! Idiot!” They get impatient with me, they call, they email me, all
anxious, demanding payment and what-not, threatening me with all sorts
of things if I don’t pay them. Sometimes they text me thusly: “Pls pay
us, idiot, LOL BRB!” It is at this time I remember my favourite all
time character in my favourite all time book: Unoka, the great flute
player and reviled father of the revered Okonkwo of Chinua Achebe’s
Things Fall Apart.

I love Unoka. He
was a dreamer who played his flute all day long. He was allergic to
real work, proving that he was a very wise man. Who needs the stress?
His farm was a disaster area because his crops refused to grow. They
insisted on his presence in the farm. His crops were mean, needy and
lazy; they demanded to be watered and nurtured and sang to. Unoka would
only sing to them. For some reason, money and fame eluded him and he
was unhappy about that and so he sang sad songs about a mean world
through his flute. Since he always needed money, he always borrowed
money. People always gave him money, which was strange because he never
paid. He went to his grave rich – in debt. He was fond of laughing at
his creditors whenever they had the temerity to come ask for their
money back. On such a silly occasion, he would come up with a brilliant
saying, something like, “Nna men, you are asking for your money? Hold
my palm-wine cup while I laff! Heh! Heh! Heh! Heh!” It was a great
tactic, because the shamed creditor would then tiptoe out of Unoka’s
hut. I wish my creditors would behave like Unoka’s creditors. Mine are
rude. They live rent-free in my head and refuse to leave.

Okonkwo, Unoka’s
famous son, was a tragic figure. He worked hard all his life. He was
foolish; he liked to pay people what he owed them. He actually
committed suicide, not because he wanted to use the white man’s skull
as a palm-wine cup, but because he saw the IMF loan coming and the
thought of Nigeria dealing with a 1000 percent interest rate drove him
up a tree. So, the other day my credit card company called me asking
for their money. I don’t even remember what I did with the money; now
they want it back plus something called interest. I did the Unoka on
them, I laughed like a hyena and I shared with them a profound Unoka
saying: “Na Gawd go punish una! Ole!” The idiots were not amused. We
are in court.

I hope I am not
giving you the impression that I am a loser who avoids responsibility
like a child loves a cold bath in the harmattan. I have a financial
plan. The Federal Government of Nigeria will relieve me of my financial
misery. I have been trying to get the attention of the yeye rulers of
Nigeria for many years now. So far, they have been ignoring me. I miss
the Great Sani Abacha. Life under him was great, Nigerians actually ate
three meals a day. Abacha was an idiot who did not read anything that
was not on a dollar note. So you could say whatever you liked and he
ignored you. He thought newspapers were for wrapping suya sticks. Life
was great until Wole Soyinka convinced Nigerians to fight for democracy
because, according to him, we were miserable. We all believed Kongi
when he told us that there indeed was another heaven called democracy.
We would all return from the hell that is life in Europe and America
and live like real human beings in our own country.

Democracy came and our friends got into power in Aso Rock and we
thought our prayers were answered. They have stolen so much money for
themselves, Abacha is now officially a saint. I am shocked. Not one of
them has offered me a penny of the loot. A few years ago, the late
President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua visited us in Washington DC and wanted to
meet with important Nigerians. There were not enough important
Nigerians to fill the hall of the embassy, so I was allowed to visit
Yar’Adua. I went with many business cards. This was my opportunity to
be sprung from the hell and damnation of grinding poverty in America.
Unfortunately several yeye Nigerians had the same great idea. Yar’adua
almost died from the hailstorm of business cards that were flung at
him. Nigerians have no shame. I am still here. I am now a very good
friend of President Jonathan Ebele Goodluck on Facebook. I “like”
everything he says on Facebook. I would like to be his Minister for
Facebook Affairs. I hope the great man comes for me before the end of
the month meets me in America.