"I am highly impressed with this title given to me as one of the heroes of Shinkafi emirate." Mr. Femi Fani Kayode.
The day Mr. Femi Fani-Kayode bagged the traditional title of Sadaukin Shinkafi in Zamfara State, conferred on him by the Emir of Shinkafi, Alhaji Muhammad Makwashe was the day Aare Ona Kakanfo of Yorubaland suffered the greatest defeat in modern information warfare. Losing one of its emerging heroes, an irrepressible pugilist of no comparison to a world of illusions is something this author doesn't find amusing.
Since the conferment of that Chieftaincy title on FFK, he has become a changed man, traversing state capitals, chasing nothing in particular. Given the ferocity of his descent, sad to say, redemption is seemingly unlikely. And Oduduwa has reasons to be concerned, too.
The most stupefying of his misadventures is how one political neophyte from Kogi State he once dubbed a nitwit and a lightweight has become his beloved brilliant brother from another mother and in whom he is well pleased. That the Bello dude he now idolizes lacks vision is indisputable, but why and how he has become the chosen one for the Cambridge-trained ajebo remains unfathomable.
Please, don't get me wrong; there is nothing wrong with concocting a patchwork of brotherhood or "political brothers" across tribal or religious lines. After all, Asiwaju did it successfully in 2015, though he was later pushed under the bus. (Apology to Senator Oluremi Tinubu). However, there is everything wrong when conscience and principles are on the line and discounted in favour of accessibility to the razmataz of power and photoshoots oozing from all the Governors' mansions.
Today, all the characters who were once, in his own words, the sponsors of armageddon and the merchants behind the merciless, savage, barbaric, heartless Fulani Herders are now his beloved brothers, doing wonderful things and doing no wrong.
Surprisingly, none of these emerging elite cliques he finds endless nights and days carousing and catering to, has come forward to empathize with him or identify with the wisdom or concerns that underlie the resurgence of the Oduduwa dream. So far, none of them has seen the reasonableness of the demands for Regionalism, True Federalism, Decentralization of Power, or Restructuring.
To be cavorting unhinged, any time anywhere, in the company of those who stand in solidarity for everything that makes Mr. Sunday Igboho a target for elimination or persecution is nothing strange to FFK. That sense of denial is condemnable. It's not only a betrayal but a shame.
So, how can they see the tears in your eyes, the reasonableness of your Oduduwa judgment, when your unsolicited kisses betray a sense of opportunism and unseriousness? Tell me, brother, where is thy sting?
To him, President Buhari is now a purist, to be loved and respected. A few days ago, the same President reiterated his demand for the resuscitation of grazing reserves that are products of only his imagination. Even though the demand is invigorating the conquest mission of the killer herders, and totally inconsistent with the position of Egbe Omo Oduduwa, Mr. FFK's newfound love for unity and brotherliness persuades him to look at the bright side.
That Mr. Sunday Igboho is feared is an understatement. That he is not well-lettered or well-red is not in doubt. But one thing is clear: He is not a sophisticated moron. The facts on the ground define the struggle he champions. Not fame. And not political calculations, compelled by undefined expectations.
Now that he's gone, forced into exile by the same forces that turned the once gregarious FFK into a folk hero and a highly coveted Bride for every available Arewa Groom, Oduduwa has something big to be worried about in the grave.
