It is said that when a man is floored by a big tribulation, lesser misfortunes clamber on top. It is hard to know how the crazy boy called Okon got to know of snooper’s fiscal inability to procure his occasional after lunch cigar from the local supermarket. It may be due to the occasional lament about the evaporation of the old academic class and its occupational perks which in those halcyon days often included chomping on fat cigars.
The austerity has even extended to international travels. The last time a friend had to go abroad, he had to make do with a ticket procured from Air Shokolokobangosay, an airline which flies Tupolev aircrafts remaindered from the old Angolan civil war and a special hardship cabin known as Comrade. Events were approaching a dark climax.
It was with such heavy thoughts of looming class evisceration that snooper approached the house not knowing that an even more unworthy drama was brewing. The entire sitting area was invaded by the smell of raw tobacco. Adept nostrils already used to the smell of fumigating and public smoking quickly apprehended the culprit. There under greyish duvet that had seen better days were four crude and clumsy rolls of fresh tobacco straight from provincial dead-ends.
“What is this nonsense smelling?” snooper thundered.
“Ha, oga no vex, na tobacco, na real kataba”, the mad boy replied with a devilish smile.
“And what is my business with that?”snooper demanded.
“Ha oga as money no reach buy dem original taba from dem supermarket, naim I come send dem mala make dem buy dem better taba from Iseyin make oga mouth no come go idle”, the crazy boy noted with a sly wink at Baba Lekki who just walked in having evaded police surveillance in connection with his role in the last uprising. To one’s utter surprise, an alert Mama Igosun also walked in extolling the virtues of local tobacco and its great aphrodisiac possibilities.
“It is now very clear that you have gone out of your mind”, a blushing snooper stuttered at the crazy boy while ignoring his senile accomplices.
“Wo Akanbi, taba Iseyin o mu lenu bi aganran and na real Shakabula gun”, the old woman extolled fixing snooper with a truly unnerving gaze.
“Mama, why are you joining these lunatics?” snooper gently upbraided the old woman.
“Öga, abi di thin no big enough? Abi make I put dem thin wey baba dey smoke wey dey make him head dey do gbigigbigi and gbagagbaga”, the crazy boy continued.
“Add better Indian hemp make the yeye man come smoke am make him head come kaput. Put dem seed make dem come explode for him gelede face. Na dat one dem dey call real local sourcing” Baba Lekki yelled.
“What? “snooper muttered in disbelief. Before anyone could comment any further, the crazy old crook suddenly lit up his monster pipe and huge fumes enveloped everywhere.
“You see, that is lesson 1 in supply side Economics. You must smoke what you produce and inhale what you exhale”, the old man noted with a professorial frown and walked away.
The Nation
