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Re:Hungarian Lady
Who Keeps An Eye
on Africans
Dear Hakeem
First of all, this lady does
not deserve the above title
and should not have gotten
this..Read More
Who Keeps An Eye
on Africans
Dear Hakeem
First of all, this lady does
not deserve the above title
and should not have gotten
this..Read More
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Eulogy for Pa Adedibully
Hakeem Babalola, published 6/22/2008
When I heard about your death, I felt a joyous abandon. But it was not as if something had ended.
Perhaps my reaction was a reaction to your catalytic activity which I found conspicuously and
tastelessly indecent. On hearing that you'd gone to the House of Hades, I knew I'd speak ill of the
dead. When you were alive bragging of being a god, I wrote a letter to your children entreating them
to counsel you like the teacher to his troubled students. You didn't listen to them, for I know you
did not believe that omode gbon agba gbon lai da ile ife.
Until your death, you made your words a law that must be obeyed by the people of Oyo State and
in particular Ibadan people. You cajoled most of them into believing that you were a kind of god –
created to cater for them. Instead of teaching them how to catch fish, you seemingly provided fish
for them. You knew that if you taught them how to catch fish, they would stop worshiping you;
they would stop making your Molete palace a Mecca of sort. Such reality was never good for your
ambition. And if they stopped paying homage to your palace, whom would you use for the
assignment given to you by the Aso Rock Gangs? You must stuff ballots, rig elections, deal with
opponents mercilessly etc. It’s what they had groomed you for right from the beginning.
In the process, you became something that baffles understanding and cannot be explained. You
started as a thug and you ended as the godfather of the godfathers. Presidents and governors
crawled to your palace for one particular favour - to win elections for them. You rode the rotten
political system in your land to the apex of exploitation. You used them as they used you. And you
became the master of the game along the line. They thought that you were ignorant of the
fundamentals of politics but you succeeded in introducing another branch of knowledge. Some have
termed it Adedibuism, while others called it amala and gbegiri politics. Whatever, baba ta won yo.
Your society's obsession with impairment of virtues and moral principles bred you to the point of
deity. They needed you to do the dirty part of the political job, but in doing so, you became a
supernatural being worshipped; a personification of a force. You became a rugged trapper who
spent years in the wilderness. You learnt while you were doing their blasphemous jobs; cheating for
them enlightened you further. They despised you in public while they courted you in private. As a
young boy, they gave you the exact job they would never give their children. Even as an old man,
they gave you jobs they would never give their uncle, father or grandfather. You accepted it, for
political jobber had become your profession; the only ponmo in your gbegiri. But unknown to them,
you would become their master; even their godfather.
They wanted to make you a permanent thug, someone they could use and dump. They gave you
the remnants but you demanded for the portion. That’s why they often pitched into you. A
governor who refused to share the treasury was booted out by your very self. Chop and let chop
was your philosophy. They almost forced you to keep quite but you dismantled them with your
bluntness. In fighting back you became a loquacious honest fellow. You appeared sincere without
necessarily being a sincere man. But you knew the name of the game. And you beat them in their
own game. Thus they called you professional thug, “forgetting that (Nigeria) politics has a role for
everybody”.
You were so lively and profitable in your chosen career that other Nigerians are striving to equal or
match your fabulous unicorn. You elevated thuggery to the point of aesthetically pleasing mode.
You built a castle of human protection around you. Your ingenuity made them addicted to you as
you were addicted to them, while pretending to be a philanthropist. You bred them like wild animals
but when they were tamed, you couldn’t do without them, and so you gave up the ghost. I am not
the one to call you a coward because in my culture we don’t speak ill of the dead.
Despite your native intelligence and guts however, you gave credence to John Morley’s
contradictory attributes of unjust justice and loving vindictiveness. You proclaimed to be a
champion for the poor, yet you saw nothing wrong in turning a governor’s birthday to a carnival,
gulping millions of naira. You molded your offspring to be independent while you helped other’s
children to depend on your capricious whim; using them as political tools. Before your demise, you
even boasted that one of your children would become the governor of Oyo State. They are now
accusing you of nepotism, something they all guilty of. If you helped install others including those
false democrats, why not your own blood!
Shortly after you kicked the bucket, some mischievous minds sleepwalked to every city and started
petty talks, saying “Late Alhaji Lamidi Adedibu shared in the views that culminated in the
annulment of June 12, 1993 presidential elections”. See, they are chickenhearted fellows who could
not confront you during the times you inspired fear or dread. But they have chosen your demise to
sully your good name and reputation. They have forgotten that mere mortals should never speak ill
of the dead.
Am I speaking of the dead right now? Oti o, for I am contemptible fearful that you might rise from
the grave and severely trounce those you perceive your adversaries as you often did when you were
alive. Oh, I am sure that the incumbent governor you helped install will be permanently relieved. At
least he will be his own man and the key to the public treasury will now be in his hands. I am not
sure whether your death will usher peace in Oyo State though. Your cubs are waiting to step in your
big shoes as those who bred you still need your service. Another era has not begun yet. Goodbye Pa
Adedibu
Copyright 2008
mysmallvoice@yahoo.com
Hakeem Babalola, published 6/22/2008
When I heard about your death, I felt a joyous abandon. But it was not as if something had ended.
Perhaps my reaction was a reaction to your catalytic activity which I found conspicuously and
tastelessly indecent. On hearing that you'd gone to the House of Hades, I knew I'd speak ill of the
dead. When you were alive bragging of being a god, I wrote a letter to your children entreating them
to counsel you like the teacher to his troubled students. You didn't listen to them, for I know you
did not believe that omode gbon agba gbon lai da ile ife.
Until your death, you made your words a law that must be obeyed by the people of Oyo State and
in particular Ibadan people. You cajoled most of them into believing that you were a kind of god –
created to cater for them. Instead of teaching them how to catch fish, you seemingly provided fish
for them. You knew that if you taught them how to catch fish, they would stop worshiping you;
they would stop making your Molete palace a Mecca of sort. Such reality was never good for your
ambition. And if they stopped paying homage to your palace, whom would you use for the
assignment given to you by the Aso Rock Gangs? You must stuff ballots, rig elections, deal with
opponents mercilessly etc. It’s what they had groomed you for right from the beginning.
In the process, you became something that baffles understanding and cannot be explained. You
started as a thug and you ended as the godfather of the godfathers. Presidents and governors
crawled to your palace for one particular favour - to win elections for them. You rode the rotten
political system in your land to the apex of exploitation. You used them as they used you. And you
became the master of the game along the line. They thought that you were ignorant of the
fundamentals of politics but you succeeded in introducing another branch of knowledge. Some have
termed it Adedibuism, while others called it amala and gbegiri politics. Whatever, baba ta won yo.
Your society's obsession with impairment of virtues and moral principles bred you to the point of
deity. They needed you to do the dirty part of the political job, but in doing so, you became a
supernatural being worshipped; a personification of a force. You became a rugged trapper who
spent years in the wilderness. You learnt while you were doing their blasphemous jobs; cheating for
them enlightened you further. They despised you in public while they courted you in private. As a
young boy, they gave you the exact job they would never give their children. Even as an old man,
they gave you jobs they would never give their uncle, father or grandfather. You accepted it, for
political jobber had become your profession; the only ponmo in your gbegiri. But unknown to them,
you would become their master; even their godfather.
They wanted to make you a permanent thug, someone they could use and dump. They gave you
the remnants but you demanded for the portion. That’s why they often pitched into you. A
governor who refused to share the treasury was booted out by your very self. Chop and let chop
was your philosophy. They almost forced you to keep quite but you dismantled them with your
bluntness. In fighting back you became a loquacious honest fellow. You appeared sincere without
necessarily being a sincere man. But you knew the name of the game. And you beat them in their
own game. Thus they called you professional thug, “forgetting that (Nigeria) politics has a role for
everybody”.
You were so lively and profitable in your chosen career that other Nigerians are striving to equal or
match your fabulous unicorn. You elevated thuggery to the point of aesthetically pleasing mode.
You built a castle of human protection around you. Your ingenuity made them addicted to you as
you were addicted to them, while pretending to be a philanthropist. You bred them like wild animals
but when they were tamed, you couldn’t do without them, and so you gave up the ghost. I am not
the one to call you a coward because in my culture we don’t speak ill of the dead.
Despite your native intelligence and guts however, you gave credence to John Morley’s
contradictory attributes of unjust justice and loving vindictiveness. You proclaimed to be a
champion for the poor, yet you saw nothing wrong in turning a governor’s birthday to a carnival,
gulping millions of naira. You molded your offspring to be independent while you helped other’s
children to depend on your capricious whim; using them as political tools. Before your demise, you
even boasted that one of your children would become the governor of Oyo State. They are now
accusing you of nepotism, something they all guilty of. If you helped install others including those
false democrats, why not your own blood!
Shortly after you kicked the bucket, some mischievous minds sleepwalked to every city and started
petty talks, saying “Late Alhaji Lamidi Adedibu shared in the views that culminated in the
annulment of June 12, 1993 presidential elections”. See, they are chickenhearted fellows who could
not confront you during the times you inspired fear or dread. But they have chosen your demise to
sully your good name and reputation. They have forgotten that mere mortals should never speak ill
of the dead.
Am I speaking of the dead right now? Oti o, for I am contemptible fearful that you might rise from
the grave and severely trounce those you perceive your adversaries as you often did when you were
alive. Oh, I am sure that the incumbent governor you helped install will be permanently relieved. At
least he will be his own man and the key to the public treasury will now be in his hands. I am not
sure whether your death will usher peace in Oyo State though. Your cubs are waiting to step in your
big shoes as those who bred you still need your service. Another era has not begun yet. Goodbye Pa
Adedibu
Copyright 2008
mysmallvoice@yahoo.com