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The Metaphysics of Ass-Kissing

Only simpletons are deceived, by the obsequious silence of a canary. Or the banal tranquility of a thorn bird.

When those condemned to sing, suddenly pretend to silence, then nature must have gone awry, or something ominous must be in the works.

These two were never born, to swallow their tongues. It is etched in the nature of the canary, to sing. The mythical “thornbird” on the other hand, searches for thorn trees from the day it is hatched. Finding the perfect thorn tree, it impales itself on a thorn and sings the most beautiful song ever heard as it dies.

This mythical bird is condemned to sing. Even when a pike of thorn awaits to receive her immolation, as she impales herself on those thorns, she must get out her song. She was born to sing, even when that song would come, at the cost of her life.

That is the destiny of the thorn bird.

The vuvuzela; that king of unruly decibels becomes an auditory obscenity, when it cheerleads hypocrisy. Nigerians witnessed that a few days ago.

Reuben Abati, a retired vuvuzela of an expired government, may not be a thorn bird, but he sings like a canary for the maintenance of his “stomach infrastructure”. That he has been hibernating in the nebulously non-committal parts of our politics, since after his Aso Rock sojourn, hoodwinked some into thinking that a canary is silent, or that a thorn bird has lost its song. He was to disappoint those he hoodwinked. He couldn’t resist the urgings on his nature, to sing, in spite of the rogue nature of the choir he sings in. He surfaced most recently, like Poseidon emerging from the sea, to sing a song of a goat, like a canary-for-hire, that he has always been.

He sang!

And, out came an article titled “Interviewing President Buhari”

Those who mistook his robust silence and wooden critiques of Buhari, as a sign that he has found religion and returned to truth-telling, after his stint as the Goebbelian mouthpiece of Jonathan’s presidency, learnt to their discomfiture, that leopards never abjure their stripes.

Canaries must sing! That comes with the territory.

Anyone reading that article, who knows St. Reuben’s antecedents, would not be convicted for leaning towards certain conclusions.

Reuben, was was either singing to grab the attention of the present scrotal sac in Aso Rock, presently sodomizing Nigeria without vaseline, or he is singing because he has been “mobilized” to chant those mercenary incantations, deployed to whitewash the sepulchral rottenness of grotesquely incompetent government.

Nigeria has seen so many dysfunctional governments in her chequered history. But this government of Muhammadu Buhari, is the summit and apogee of cluelessness.

Under Buhari, Nigeria graduated into an epidemic of dysfunctions, led by a confederacy of dunces, hellbent on chaperoning her into a genocidal cesspool of bloodletting, violence and ribald insecurity; with its fine arts of brazen nepotism, irreflexive directionlessness, visionlessness and sheer incompetence.

That Mr. Buhari is an omnidimensional failure, who is not fit to govern a complex country like Nigeria, has been evidenced by an avalanche of gaffes, own-goals, self-inflicted faux pas, and arrogant posturing testifying to the worst excesses of emptiness.

These are not hidden.

That Buhari is a Nero, busy dangerously fiddling, while Nigeria burns, has now come home to those conclave of mercenaries, who sold him to Nigerians as the man to defeat corruption and rout the insurgency presently ravaging Nigeria.

Prior to the 2015 elections, a choir of intellectual he-goats, wrote saccharine symphonies, to whitewash the history of this thoroughgoing tyrant, as to smuggle him past our considerations, into Aso Rock.

On getting into office, that man went up to the highest office in the land, pulled down his trousers, showed us his tyrannical anus, and took a shit on all that we hold dear as our cherished ideals, as we all watched in consternation.

Scarcely in office our man started flying the banners of insipid and senseless nepotism. He wasted six months, trying to fill his office with uncorrupted angels. But only succeeded in getting infernal mediocrities like Lai Mohammed, Garba Shehu and Rotimi Amechi as officers in his government. He also grabbed the amoral monstrosities of Femi Adesina to the bargain, while giving us men garrulously allergic to thinking, like Ngige as ministers. That first action showed Buhari as a man out of his depths.

He was to become progressively worse. A president, who should have united a nation ripped asunder by electoral bickering, lost the plot, when leadership was required most. Hibernating in his tribal cocoons, he took a knife of idiocy and descended on the 5 percent whom he claimed did not vote for him.

Not to be outdone in political arson, he created Nnamdi Kanu ex-nihilo, and gave him legitimacy with his gaffes, silences, despotic mismanagement of the legal process and impolitical actions.

When confronted with the slaughtering of innocent Nigerians in their homes, by Fulani herdsmen, the President a Fulani himself, who should have gotten ahead of the narrative and taken bold, decisive actions to assure Nigerians that the life of every single Nigerian, was dear to him, allowed himself to be railroaded by ethnic sentiments, to be seen by Nigerians as taking the sides of his kinsmen, accused of being the murderers of our collective sleep.

This own-goal caused legions of followers to swell Nnamdi Kanu’s ranks, created Sunday Igboho also out of nothing, and conferred legitimacy on them.

Every time Nigerians needed a president, Buhari became an ethnic champion, a citadel of nepotism, and and tough-talking weakling, aloof to the needs and aspirations of the people in his charge.

As this man’s presidency gradually whimpers to a close, he becomes increasingly genocidal in his gaffes, suggesting that his rational centers may have been eaten up and eroded by dementia, as some analysts fear; so much so that he can no longer rein in his bigotries.

Reacting to his genocidal threats against a section of the country, Twitter removed that superlatively offensive gaffe. The tyrant reacted like only a brainless tyrant would. He banned Twitter in Nigeria.

This was the man, that Abati composed a symphony, which would out-compete every oratorio of Handel, Bach, Haydn and Mozart merged together in one aspect alone; namely full-blown insincerity bordering on sycophantic hypocrisy.

The musical talents of Abati the canary,as evidenced in that litany of tongue-in-cheek, in praise of Buhari, was a melange of staccatoral inelegance, attesting to the constipated insincerity of sycophants-for-hire.

His article was a sequence of cadences, straining to outmaneuver facts, by deluging us with rivulets of fraudulence, which in sum becomes a huge cascade of nonsense.

His attempt to deploy over 800 words to tell us that Buhari’s mediocre appearance on an interview he and others conducted with him, testifies to the president being in charge, is for me the definition of ass-kissing.

Nigerians are daily reminded by Buhari’s deafening non-attendance to national issues, that he is an absentee-landlord. This inconspicuous absence gave wings to the rumours that Buhari died some moons ago, and is being replaced by a body double imported from Sudan.

One can only conclude that Dr. Abati’s irrepressible desire to write an article to defend that shoddy interview performance, failed to convince. It rather essayed to elevate ass-kissing to the ontological level. I guess that any Nigerian, who wishes to learn the metaphysics of ass kissing, should consult our own dear Dr. Reuben Abati. He may learn a thing or two.

Gwazia ndi yard unu

Written by
Onyemaechi Ogbunwezeh
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