|
Ovation, the lifestyle
magazine of the idle and contemptuously rich which specialises in titillating
its readers through exposing the lid on the houses, parties and sexual
shenanigans of rich Nigerians around London must probably be having less
clientele these days. Obasanjo’s long reach through his EFCC has curtailed the
extravagant showmanship of our opulent ex-Generals, business moguls and
politicians who once turned London into a haven for uncontrolled sex orgies.
Contemptible as it was,
sexual escapade, especially among our respected public figures, when abroad
became pretty beastly some years ago. London was turned into a Mecca of fun for
our idle rich to display their stolen wealth, profligacy, vanity, ego and their
large and uncontrolled sexual appetite for orgies.
In those days, Nigerian
millionaires routinely threw expensive parties as a sort of magnet to attract
adventurous girls looking for fun, fame and fortune. London changed from being
known as a sedate and tranquil haven for recuperating burn-out executives,
military elites and politicians into a hidden Eden where multiple orgasms
replaced tranquillity.
In those days, it was a
common sight to see our rich Casanovas in fetching silk suits in Oxford Street,
with dark glasses as they cuddled beautiful and smiling teenagers in tight
fitting jeans along this busy street. London was converted into a watering hole
where buffoons and brain dead looters converged to celebrate the arrival of
stolen money. Their excesses used to be the talk of the town among Diaspora
Nigerians who fled the country when their future seemed bleak in the hands of
these amorous sex merchants. In summertime, they threw scandalously expensive
parties in their opulent mansions for girls of their granddaughters’ age in
well-heeled London locations.
It was common to see our
business elites, politicians and Generals we revere back home being reduced to
jellyfishes by starry-eyed and highly westernised teenagers in irresistible
sexy bikinis and wonder bras which made breasts looked like a tower of eternal
pleasure! There were so many scandals, hurtful banters and not quite amusing
insults, thrown at our perverted public personalities even in their own wild parties.
They took the insults stoically and laugh lazily as if it was alright to be
abused by girls of their granddaughter’s equal. The logic went thus: if our
‘chiefs’, Alhajis or sugar daddies want temperate sex, thousands of miles from
tropical Nigeria, they must bear the indignities of western values which pay
less homage to titles and personalities. Chief Adelabu simply became Ade.
General Theophilus simply became Theo from the seductive lips of immoral girls
on assignment to make money. Old men became toy boys in an astonishing moral
somersault.
Old and young politicians
regarded London with emerald envy. Sandhurst trained Army Generals preferred to
have grand houses to their names in many leafy boroughs of London. This state
of play caused eternal amazement for the British people who could not
understand the deep contradictions of seeing super rich Nigerians in their
gleaming chauffeured limos on one hand, and thousands of Nigerians on slave
wages as cleaners in the City’s tower blocks. Even, my Zimbabwean friend,
Nyasha Nyadzayo agonised over this wounding injustice. Not to mention the
contempt of Mama B, Mabel Usiade, my friend and neighbour who once described
these men as ignoble scoundrels, fit for the hottest place in hell. Aremu
Owolabi, who could not hide the disgusting revulsion of watching
septuagenarians prey on innocent girls, prayed for their castration.
Over here, what you will
discover is that many public figures changed into lousy Lotharios anytime they
turned up in European capitals on the tired cliché of business trips. It was
considered normal for our rich men and public figures to enjoy temperate, but
illicit sex, as long as madam, who was roasting away under the tropical Abuja
sun, was unaware.
Teenagers who had spent
their money on both summer and winter sales in London’s shopping corridors
doted on these rich bounders for their own share of Nigeria’s stolen wealth.
They needed cash refuelling on our petro-dollar!!! Ironically, it never
bothered the impressionistic mind of our teenagers- turned- sex-slaves that
they were mere pawn in the sleazy game of these honey daddies. It never
occurred to them that they were just another notch on these philanderers
bedpost.
In those roaring days,
classified Aso Rock information was readily available if you knew the right
playgirls to talk to. They would divulge anything from Nigeria’s impending
military manoeuvres across the straight of Badagry to future ministerial
appointments with reliable ease. These piles of information were garnered when
the full beam of sex was on. To keep you roaring with laughter, they would even
regale you with the various sizes of the manhood of our foolish rich men. Their
conclusion was that Nigerian men were real ’babyfuckers’ and could bonk their
way into the Guinness Book of Record any day. Relying on their experience,
these paramours would tell you that our overrated high and mighty truly
possessed the sex drive of a rabbit, the morals of Ajegunle brothel keeper and
a shameless condescension when handled by young inamoratas.
Early 80’s to late 90’s,
Nigeria had no sewer newspaper to expose the sexual indiscretions of our famous
sons. There were no newspapers that could snoop on the sexual shame of our
pampered public servants. So, with virtually no press to hound them out, their
modesty took a tumble as our movers and shakers began to indulge themselves in
sexual experiments that were common to the perverted continent of Europe.
Threesome gained popularity while S&M was for the truly lost! Brunettes and
blondes vied for a slice of our petro-dollar, obscenely displayed by vulgar,
uncouth, sex-mad ‘loaded’ Nigerian idiots, looking for a taste of both the
erotic and the exotic.
Luckily, there were no
paparazzi with their traditional long lenses to expose the ugly naked body of
our sugar daddies as they lay on warm futon sucking bosomy chest. Their hidden
shame was shielded from official censor. Some of these officials have gone on
to occupy plusher jobs in Nigeria. Meanwhile, in Britain, any official of her
Majesty caught in allegations of sexual escapades, would have to face immediate
career ruin and public shame. In Nigeria, sexual indiscretion on the part of
any serving officials is not a crime. Rather our society will garland the
chunky neck of such official with more national honours and higher assignments.
This is a sad commentary on our collective moral values as a race and as a
nation.
By this behaviour we feed
the stereotype of the cynical westerners who still view us as sexually
incontinent. The chiefs who routinely travel to London to have sexual escapades
with scrawny teenagers to prove his regenerated virility shame us all. Is this
the kind of image we want wealthy Nigerians to be associated with? Is it right
to throw tons of almighty sterling between the opened legs of immoral and dirty
mistresses regardless of the envy of other Nigerians who would not sell their
body so cheaply?
Thankfully, that is no more.
Gone were the days of this open sore of our vanity. Powerful and wealthy
Nigerians who see themselves as gallant conquerors of those days are now too
old to walk that craggy, dusty road again. Whatever hell we may raise against
Obasanjo, his EFCC is a potent deterrent that is still keeping our public
officials and Army Generals in check. You could not just hop on a plane like
the bad old days and go crazy the next day in Bishop’s Avenue to celebrate the
arrival of another stolen lucre! Even, old mistresses are now married!
And some of them who are still ‘singletons’ are now wrinkled and out of circulation
anyway.
Who gains from it all?
Materially, mistresses smile to the bank thanking the universe for its
abundance. In addition, there is a new BMW in the drive of a spacious house in
swanky Borehamwood. She also owns a house in Lekki, treasure-chest of 24-carat
gold, expensive perfumes, bags, watches, shoes and designer clothes. The
subtext is clear: to every foolish and sexually greedy man, there is a
mercilessly ambitious mistress who will take him to the cleaners.
How do we then confront the
existential question of what impression do we leave on the British imagination
by this hideous obscenities? When would our public figures ask themselves
whether being philanderers is the brand to convey among the British public? Have
we forgotten so soon that General Sanni Abacha died while luxuriating illicitly
in the hands of smuggled angels of death from India? Must other public
officials, chiefs, Alhajis, politicians and Army Generals follow his fatal
example and die so ignominiously?
Tijani lives in London.
|
Posted by Robot| 10.05.2008 22:49