With so many political scoundrels escaping justice on outlandish technicalities, we hear that our musicians are also returning to the studio en masse to wax lyrical about the returning heroes.

We hear that one of the itinerant praise singers has tentatively titled his album: Abanikanda, ikan o lej’okuta, which roughly translates into termite cannot terminate the boulder.

It was amidst this crisis of core national values and orientation that we heard the strange case of a man making brisk business out of selling the talisman of instant disappearance or what the Yoruba call àféèrí in case the state buckles under the epic stress.

As soon as snooper learnt of this brilliant scam, our mind quickly went to the old scam-master and hell-raiser himself. And so to Ojuelegba we headed, on this cool and delectable June morning.

The queue stretched from the Ayilara junction to the old Yaba Mental Home. From the expensive embroidery and even more expensive perfumes, you could tell it was the Nigerian elite in terminal disorientation.

Lo, and there was the old pirate himself, amidst a posse of riotous miscreants, smoking himself silly and cracking expensive jokes at the expense of the ruling class. As soon as he sighted snooper, he went into a delirious frenzy.

Ah Agbadagbudu boy, this one no be delinquent state again ooo, this one na kaputstate. Dem come craze patapata. Can you please tell the fools to disappear?” he crowed with a crooked smile. At this point, an affluent looking man came forward.

“Oga, this thing does not work at all. Na ofege juju”, the man moaned.

“How do you know?” the old man snarled.

“I put it on my goat and the thing didn’t disappear. I could see it with my korokoroeyes”, the man lamented.

“Korokoro ko, covid-419 ni. Are you a goat? “, the old man screamed. Another man who has just bought the talisman wanted to know what will happen if Magu appears and the talisman fails to work.

“Isn’t that like a trainee pilot asking his instructor what will happen if his parachute fails to open?” the old logician asked with Socratic scorn.

“So?” the distraught man wailed.

“So, so. Isn’t that what they call jumping to conclusion, you fool?” the old man screamed and dismissed the man. At this point, a pompous and self-important Igbo man forced his way through the queue.

“Nna, all this yeye talisman you de sell sef. Just give us the medicine that will make EFCC disappear forever. I wear this yeye thing go bank yesterday and dem mobile police beat Amadiora out of me”.

“Case closed!” the old man announced with satanic glee.

“Nna, this Yoruba crook has fixed me again”, the Igbo baron lamented with a deflated gait and slunk away. At this point, the crazed old genius seized a nearby drum and began a perfect rendition of an old Tatalo tune.

The Nation