Fr. Nazareth was alone in his office a day after the presidential election. He turned on the TV for an update and something on the news about the election caught his attention and flooded his chest with all sorts of feelings: bitterness, frustration, irrational fears, hopelessness and a compelling voice screaming, “why?” His pains and frustration was not about the outcome of the election but the process: the intimidation, the violence, the threats, the destruction of lives and properties, and the snatching of ballot boxes in broad daylight. He drew a long, slow breath and buried his face in his hands. Suddenly, he was jolted out of his agony by a noisy entrance downstairs. A fellow came clamouring up and then shove the office door without knocking. He sat down without waiting to be offered a seat and placed his hand bag on the table. His eyes were bloodshot and his face, hideous with ragged beards and brown teeth. His thick lips looked dark, indicating years of intense smoking. His massive jaws brought to mind a jawbone in the hand of Samson against the Philistine. He commanded a menacing presence. There was something about him that would make your heart race and your breath freeze. Fr. Nazareth’s heart pounded and his feet under the office table trembled. He swallowed the frog in his throat and summoned a priestly courage to ask.
“How may I help you?”
“Are you the Rev Fr here?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Okay! My name is Káká also known as Mánògèrè. Street ni a wa and na me be the Oga of boys in this hood. O ye yin, man of God?”
“Okay. Mr. Kákáwhat can I do for you?”
“Man of God, me I no too understand English oo. Mi o gbooyinbo but mogbo sense. Sodikl’awa. Shey e get? So, I say make I come tell you make you help us warn your people wey dey vote against our Oga.”
“My people wey dey vote against your Oga? Who are my people and who is your oga?”
“Ha! Man of God, you no know as e dey go abi? I mean your people for Church wey vote yesterday, dem dey vote against my oga, Tobalase, the only Generalissimo of boys in the trenches.”
“Oh I see. But I thought your Oga did a campaign? Why would you want to force the people to vote for him? Campaign is about selling yourself to the people and persuading them to vote for you. Shey you and your oga no do good job ni? And if your oga is trustworthy and good, why should you threaten or intimidate the people to vote for him?”
“Rev. Fr, I no come here to argue oo. This na our land, our space and the people must bow and follow.”
“Bow? Bow to whom ? I thought the people were free citizens with rights to vote and be voted?”
“Man of God,you dey talk politics. Politics is a matter of interest and a game of numbers.”
“I see. So, Káká what is your interest? And what number do you require to get your interest? And have you considered the interest of the people?”
“Man of God, my interest be say make Tobalase win. And everybody weydey our land, doing business and living free, must support him. Once he wins, everybody has won. And his interest is our interest.If not, e no go funny o.”
“Hmm. Is that a threat?”
“No be threat o. I just know say if anything happens to the contrary, e go bloody. So tell them o. If dem no go vote my oga, make dem stay for house jejeoo.”
“So, the interest of this your Oga is more important than that of the people?”
“Na so. He is our man, our Oga. Na him dey put food on our table and we stand gidigba on his madate.”
“Káká, do you have children?”
“Yes, na. I get four children and three wives.”
“Hmm. I see. Can I tell you a story?”
“O ya, Man of God, e ja mi si. I dey listen o.”
“Once upon a time, when animals still talked, the rats on a farm called a meeting of all the other animals. They were worried, they lamented, because they had seen the madam of the farmhouse buy a mousetrap. They were now in danger. But the other animals scoffed at their anxiety. The cow said that she had nothing to worry about. A tiny little contraption couldn’t harm her. She could crush it with her foot. The pig reacted in a similar way. What did he have to worry about in the face of a tiny trap? The chicken also announced that it had no fear of this gadget. “It’s your concern. No worry for me!” it told the rats. On the very first night, the Madam set the mousetrap and she heard it snap. Getting out of her bed to look what it had caught and she saw that it had trapped a snake by its tail. In trying to free the snake she was bitten and the poison soon had her feeling sick and running a fever. She went to the doctor who gave her medicines to combat the poison and advised her: “What you need now to get better is chicken pepper soup.” They slaughtered the chicken, but her fever continued. Relatives and neighbours came to visit. More food was needed. They slaughtered the pig. Eventually the poison killed the Madam. A huge funeral ensued. A lot of food was needed. So, they slaughtered the cow.”
“Káká, do you know the point of that story?”
“E ja mi si. Explain to me.”
You see, the point of that story is this: everyone and everything is connected. The people you are calling my people are also your people. Among them are Doctors, Lawyers, Teachers, Architect, Police officers, market men and women, Students and more. If like those animals in the story, you say you don’t care about the people , their situations and choices, and you decide to harm, intimidate or kill them on election day, you are indirectly destroying your future and that of your children’s children. Let me explain. If you wreck havoc and injure or kill the doctors who are out to vote, who will attend to you and your children when there is health crisis? If you intimidate and brutalise the teachers who are out to vote on Election Day, who will teach your children in School? If you intimidate and kill the innocent market men and women who are out to exercise their voting rights, you are endangering the very source of income tax that the government will need to build your community. Anything you do to the people for political identity has consequences and you will pay the price politically, socially, and economically. It is a snake-bite and it will come back to you. We are all connected and blindness to our interdependence, wilful or not, is dangerous. Wrecking havoc on Election Day is like planting thorns in the path of the people; your children may take that path barefooted one day. You can pretend not to see this point o and then idolize one individual above the people. The point however remains that anything you do to people on Election Day has a big price that you will pay, I will pay and everyone will suffer for it. So, Káká, ronuoooo.
• Rev. Fr. Simeon Mautin is a priest of the Catholic Archdiocese of Lagos and Administrator, St. Kizito Catholic College, Iju, Agege, Lagos.
