In the darkest entrails of the sprawling megacity, a cannibal ethos prevails. You either kill or you get killed. It is as simple as that. Autochthon savages from outlying primitive enclaves and the last redoubts of Early Man in Africa finally overran the famed metropolis. Despite the bravest efforts of the law enforcement agencies, they held sway in the swampy outreach of the beleaguered city from where they spread their reign of primitive terror via the inner ghettoes to the glittering landmarks of African modernity.
But help is finally on the way from traditional quarters. Where modern policing falters, African magic comes to the rescue. Snooper never gave a chance to General Obasanjo’s famed formula for dislodging apartheid from South Africa until recently. At this rate, it may well be the old magus from ancient Owu who may yet have the last laugh over this matter of pre-colonial hostilities.
As usual with the freeloading contrarian, Baba Lekki had boarded a mass transit “danfo” bus at Oshodi after an all night carousal with the intention of linking up with Okon at Freedom Park. But the one chance boys had other ideas.
The old savant sensed major trouble once he entered the bus and was immediately hemmed in by two burly ruffians who looked like characters from the outer margins of hell. As soon as the rickety bus flew past the Ikorodu Road loop without making a detour, Baba Lekki knew that he was in for a hard time.
“Awusu billahi!!!” the old codger grunted in a gesture of false religious outrage. A lady who had been monitoring the awful developments with trepidation suddenly screamed.
“Driver, na Ojota I say I dey go!! I no dey go dem Oworo”, she wailed.
“Shut up. Whether na Ojota or na Oguta, you don reach Golgotha”, the driver jeered.
“Bring out all your phones, money and ATM cards”, one of the thugs shouted. Everybody started complying in fright. When it came to Baba Lekki’s turn, the old rebel brought out an ancient pen and pre-historic reading glasses.
“Wetin be dis yeye nonsense? Stupid old man, if you dey joke, make you stop am”, the mad ruffian screamed as everybody cowered in terror.
“I no get phone, but I get Kalamu and Molubi”—ancient Yoruba words for pen and glasses— the old contrarian whimpered .
“Bad Fish, wetin the old Yoruba fool dey say? Giam one dirty slap for me.” The driver ordered. As the impudent fellow made to comply, Baba Lekki sprang with surprising agility and the hand froze in mid-air. “Eeeeewo! Aisiwo lumi. Igbe o l’egun sugbon enite gbodo tiro”, the old man burst into torrid incantation.
“Chairman, I no fit bring down dem hand again”, the foolish fellow whimpered. At this point, one of the burly ruffians hemming the old man attempted to twist his right hand from behind, but remembering the tricks he had learnt from Alimi Yopayopa, the famed Ibadan magician, Baba Lekki puffed like an adder and the hand came off clean from the shoulder joint.
“Oga, oga him hand dey my hand, him hand dey for my hand!!!”, the poor fellow cried and began pissing in his trousers.
“Idiot, give me back that hand now now”, Baba Lekki thundered, grabbed his hand and put it back without any effort. At this point, the driver who had been monitoring the weird drama through the mirror suddenly brought the bus to a screeching halt.
“Baba, we no dey go again”, the hooligan stammered, shivering with fright and premonition.
“But me I dey go!” Baba Lekki thundered.
“Where you dey go sir make we drop you?” the crook mumbled disjointedly.
“I dey go meet Oduduwa. I get meeting with dem Oranmiyan, dem Agboniregun, dem Ogedengbe, dem Lisabi Agbongbon, dem Basorun Ogunmola and dem Balogun Ogunsigi. This nonsense must stop immediately. Make you come chop no be say make you come chop off our head”, the old man growled. At this point, the driver and his criminal accomplices jumped out of the bus and fled in different directions.