I know the acting Chief Justice of Nigeria, Mohammed Ibrahim Tanko, though not intimately. He isn’t a giant by creation, so he belongs to the type Yoruba will call Atakoro (active medium-sized fellow) and this Tanko, by all indications and inclinations, is an outstanding Atakoro. If not, he would not have set out to upturn an age-long applecart just to munch ahead of the queue and he actually succeeded, just breaking a few droplets of sweat.
Morphologically, the last name of his Lord Justice, also perfectly fits Yoruba’s street nomenclature, in pejoratively draping someone of less-than-moderate height. And for those desiring to have it modernised; Shanko will go in place of Tanko or Takoro. But it is mostly nobodies with such a stature description that get to wear such insulting garland. When a “somebody” is of such mini stature, and loaded to the hilt, he becomes either an aguntasoolo or eniyan kukuru ti npe gigun ranise (qualitative short person who fits into all dresses or a short man of authority who lords it over giants).
Two Nigerians of both blessed and cussed memories would readily come to mind. Both billionaires; one made his money from government and the other, in government. M.KO Abiola, whose memory his children are now dragging through the mud over his estate, should be an easy pick for memory blessedness and former Head of State, Sani Abacha, whose memory is always in deficit when sparingly remembered, should objectively occupy the other available space. But it is fair to add that all the zero sum about the two personalities would depend on who is doing the arithmetic. Today, it is certain Abacha’s name would weigh more with President Muhammadu Buhari than Abiola’s, regardless of the veiled armistice offered by Hafsat and Aremo Segun Osoba at the June 12 National Day commemoration last year.
Except one is tempered and helped by the Holy Spirit, how easy can it get loving the memory of the fellow who helped to take the “supreme” meal from you, over and above the other fellow, who rehabilitated you and created a mega-Trust Fund for you to toy with billions, like pieces of cowries and sea-shell from the Atlantic shores? Even those who packaged June 12 as a national holiday didn’t argue it wasn’t politics of expediency. Buhari possibly vacillated on naming a national holiday after Abacha, his bosom friend and trusted comrade because of the likely negative electoral impact such an open romance and posthumous camaraderie would have on his second term ambition, which now has just two judicial hurdles to be done and dusted. Given his noise-thumping attitude to public outcries when the stakes aren’t too high for his immediate comfort, staking on the president damning the nation to honour Abacha before his exit from office, can be a safe and winning bet.
Abiola and Abacha were really Atakoro, particularly the one without political power, but whose name could arguably open any door, possibly on any continent of the world. Tall men crouched before M.K.O. Damsels with the gait of gazelle strutted with long legs to catch his attention. But, there was a ‘but.’ Abacha ate the life of his head as crude interpretation of Yoruba’s indication of overwhelming hedonism would capture having life goodie goodies at one’s beck. He ravaged everywhere including international prostitution cartel. At a snap of his fingers, the Central Bank of Nigeria delved into the ludicrous of printing more-than-required currency to meet his insatiable lust for more-than-needed. At a point, there were notes with incomplete serial numbers in circulation. He was an outrageous Atakoro, but there was also a ‘but.’
Two men of power today would conveniently queue behind the duo above; Kaduna State governor, Nasir el-Rufai and the National Chairman of his party and former Edo State governor, Adams Oshiomhole. Their Atakoro exploits are still fresh and these two don’t look like they are even starting yet. Many may ask, what about another of their ally, Labour Minister, Emeka Ngige? Fair is fair, such men aren’t only domiciled in the ruling party and the former Anambra State governor isn’t really a ravaging Atakoro. He could be “guilty” by stature association, but he isn’t anywhere near the status of “man/men of power.” Ngige is just a fortunate doctor, making “decent” money from politics, which makes it easy for him to decorate nearly his 10 fingers with weird-looking rings—someone says they are called ogbomoto in Igbo—instead of busying them with stethoscope and syringe. If he were to be a real Atakoro like others before and now around him, he would have had a ‘but.’
Atakoro in Yoruba mythology did not have a “but” because of his size. In fact, his size is a major advantage, so this would not in any ways fit into any mischievous body-shaming narratives. The mystique which is serving as a derivative for this piece is just a situational appraisal of a legendary fellow, expected to serve a didactic message to all in Atakoro’s situation. But what exactly was his situation? Atakoro was a legendary medicine-man who built his legend on magic. He could do the unbelievable and unthinkable with his talismanic power. He vanished and re-appeared at will. He confounded both young and old of his time. It was just normal that such a man of awe would become a god to be worshipped by fellow men with the same breath in their nostrils. Yes, it is also the norm to knock genuflecting men as less-than-human, but Yoruba have a way of comforting such hacked men with “t’omode ba de’bi eru, eru a ba” (regardless of his stoicism, a child would melt in a real frightening moment). Aren’t we being awed by some men of power today and the uses they put such power? Aren’t there fellows in our midst today, doing stuff in the polity and our politics hitherto considered too weird to be contemplated? But Atakoro himself, who sired the “magicians” around us today, also had a “but”.
(To be continued)