At the same moment, a giant clock in a room on Ademola Ogunsanya Street in Victoria Island Lagos struck three and Miss Avery, the alluring secretary of Alhaji Oyebode Kosoko placed the portable PC on the table in front of Alhaji. She placed her right hand firmly on the edge of the black mahogany conference table while her left manoeuvred the keys on the portable device expertly and with the tip of her little finger carefully hidden beneath the table she clicked on a small button and the lights in the room went out as a giant screen flickered on behind her while the other men in the room watched, seemingly oblivious of the faint darkness and several men armed with guns in the room. A lone light at the back of the conference hall at Kosoko Towers was on and the meeting started at exactly 3:15pm “African time” as Alhaji Kosoko had directed his secretary, who had used her intuition to set the giant clock in the room at three. So the royal chieftains in the room thought it was three o’clock, having been stripped of all metallic objects before coming in including wristwatches. This is the committee of men that elected elder statesmen; they were all paramount rulers of the various major tribes that make up Yorubaland. The private meeting setup by Alhaji Kosoko in his office however did not include some other members of the Yoruba royalty. Most of those absent were either firm proponents of the present system of government best described as a traditional parliamentary system. They favoured the continuation of the election of Elder statesmen under new rules that would ensure a transparent screening system for prospective Elder statesmen.
Alhaji Kosoko, fondly called Pemberton is openly a proponent of the traditional parliamentary system of government that elected elder statesmen of credible character but he is also an ambitious man. Popularly known as a socialite prince who enjoys the good life, he was never considered to be much interested in political power. His family had lost the throne of Lagos about two hundred years earlier while the British ruled Nigeria and having never regained it from the ruling family; they were more seen as Lagos socialites who simply had a finger in the power cake. No member of the Kosoko family had been on the throne of Lagos for two hundred years. Alhaji Kosoko himself had his early education in Lagos and went to the University in Leeds where he met Miss Avery, then a young and intelligent thirteen year old high school student of Central Leeds High School. He was twenty nine and already married to his first wife who was in Lagos with a baby girl but the age difference made little meaning. Miss Avery was a natural laugher with an immaculate set of teeth, light brown skin and of mixed origin. She was quite curious of her ancestry and relished the conversation of an older Nigerian student, since she was born of a dark-skinned nurse from Akwa Ibom and a white skinned technician from Southampton, who had lied to the nurse that he was an engineer from Britain working on an oil facility. At the end of his job in Nigeria, he simply took his new wife and baby to his home in Leeds and the baby Avery never knew what Nigeria looked like.
The years of absence from his Lagos wife and Avery’s vivacious laughter when he called her Aferi, in his thick local Lagos boy accent soon steered them off the realm of friendship and at age fifteen, she was no longer innocent before her friend Bodey. He was welcomed in her home though her mother later got to know that he was married, she never bothered about it since he played well with her more than Tech Jones of Southampton had ever done in a few years but above all, he seemed to be trustworthy and had a promising future as he elaborated his plans to become Nigerian president before age forty five, not to mention the fact that he was of royal ancestry and arguably the most respected royal bloodline in the whole of West Africa. Nigeria had broken up now and he could only become Yorubaland president if he played his cards well.
I intend to forego my forefathers’ throne which we have placed in the care of someone else in the palace of the Oba of Lagos for about two hundred years. I want to run for the presidency of this country under the flag of the largest political party in the land. That is PA, People’s Alliance. He said, concluding his speech and presentation.
Grave silence in the room.
Then after a few minutes, a beaded hand rapped loudly on the table drawing everyone’s attention. That’s commendable seeing you want to end a 200 year old feud. It’s a welcome idea that I believe everyone should consent to because we need all the unity we can get among ourselves as royal fathers and I think we can adopt your stance on this issue’ said the man with the beads.
“Something is up here” said another man on the left side of the table at which everyone instinctively looked up at the ceiling.
“Not there”, said the man calmly but obviously irritated.
I mean that we all know that Alhaji is a firm supporter of the traditional parliamentary style of leadership and here he is stating that he wants to be the president. Also, the PA already has a presidential candidate who is actively campaigning in obvious readiness of the day we will shift to the presidential system and he is a strong man and …..
At this, Alhaji Kosoko interrupted. “Things do change Baba Ondo, so let’s just say my mindset changed after a careful thought over the matter and also the main reason why we’re here is to garner your support. After that, we can deal with any opposition. Moreso, there has been no party primaries in PA”, Kosoko concluded looking at the man.
Ondo people are known for being bookish in their approach to everything and could be very unprogressive because they spent too much time cleaning their plethora of certificates on the shelf and that’s just what this Chief was just doing, displaying his analytical mind with modern English, something is up…….go and bring it down, Kosoko thought.
After a little more conversation, the alluring secretary came in with a big bag and handed out brown envelopes to the tables in front of the seated men. That’s Nigerian style, imported to Yorubaland. You never give it to the people, you drop it on the table where anybody from Daffy Duck to the British PM could have picked it and you close your eyes to whichever of the two picked it. At this, the men all gave their support and after a couple of drinks and ayes and banters, the meeting closed and Alhaji was smiling. He wasn’t going home tonight. He’d be right here in his office overlooking the Lagos beach front while working out political and business strategies with his secretary. He received pats and handshakes from a few well wishers. He also received several assurances of confidence from some others who had been in the meeting. All were leaving. The emissary of Olubadan waited for a brief discussion with the secretary of Alhaji Kosoko and dropped a note with her. After half an hour, the conference room was empty and Alhaji Kosoko sat down on his giant chair looking out the window across the remainder of the city and beyond the ocean. He could see his dearest secretary approaching from the midst of the swirling ocean in a reflection on the glass window. She seemed to be coming straight up from out of the blue ocean cloaked by darkness and yet lighting the wide space beyond with her beauty. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small white sheet of paper. It had the mobile phone number of the man who represented the Olubadan at the meeting. They both laughed slowly. Then she said.
Bodey, you can see now that I need a promotion and a more private office. They both laughed again. Then he said “Being my confidential secretary keeps you around me every time and you know that’s important for proper functioning of my brain” and they both laughed again. Then she brought out a second white envelope that had obviously been sealed when delivered but was now torn. Alhaji Kosoko aka Pemberton scanned the contents of the envelope quickly while his secretary watched.
What is it? She asked.
Obviously someone is up against me and I guess I’m also up against someone he replied indifferently. PA’s main presidential aspirant heard of today’s meeting and had an insider listen in on us. Who dropped this? I really don’t know I just found it on the floor while coming ….
“MA, you’ve been with me 13 years and you still won’t stop saying I don’t know” Alhaji lashed out at his secretary. She was shocked at the outburst and simply managed a t
imid “Baby”. It also says there’s a new development that won’t make my plan succeed. Something scientific that will form the core of their campaign.
What can it be?
Oil couldn’t have been discovered somewhere else without our knowledge, right? He asked his secretary quite hoping he was correct.
In the Nigerian regions whenever a mention was made of scientific discoveries, people immediately thought of discoveries of new oil wells because Nigeria had fed itself on oil and it had consumed the soul and conscience of even the most moral of men so discovery of new oil wells became the idea of worthy science, any other science made no sense especially to the political class who saw the oil wealth as a source of unlimited funds that can easily be diverted to private accounts and win elections with. She simply reacted with calm.
“You’re getting worked up and whatever they’ve discovered you can know it without worrying”. You have the means so don’t spoil tonight now, Mr President. Then he smiled at her again and they began the business of the night while he thought in his mind, something’s up, something new that we didn’t know about.
In politics, that’s a sign of disaster, it’s beyond the speeches and winning elections. It’s your ability to be up-to-date with the true affairs of the state and not be caught unawares by your opponents and detractors.
Alhaji Kosoko was a man who had seen both sides of the world. His nickname Pemberton was a permanent mark of one moment of political mis-information when his publicity adviser had proudly told the defunct Nigerian senate that Kosoko had his doctorate-level education at Pemberton University School of Management during a submission where Kosoko was being considered for a federal ministerial appointment. Obviously relishing the extra accomplishment, he had not made the needed correction, only for reviewers to later point out that Pemberton was a local town in British Columbia, Canada famous for its pubs and hospitality, not a University. Kosoko didn’t lose the appointment due to his open-handedness and high-profile bribing but the name stuck like glue because he was already famous for his love for pubs so who knew if he really did a doctorate level education in a pub.