Monday, February 22, 2010

Farook, My Son, Yaya De?

Pix credit: TELL Photo

What you did, Farook, has contributed to the state
of coma in which the country has slumped
in Saudi. But why did you do it?

Hello, Farook! Farook, hello! Can you hear me? It’s me, your baba. Yaya de? They say I can have this telephone conversation with you. Don’t worry, this is something good about the Americans. They don’t mean any harm. What! No, Farook. Nobody is bugging you... Lai lah, hilalahu... I swear, yaro na. Bakomi. Don’t worry yourself, just tell me why you did it...No o! I say don’t worry. Nobody is bugging or eavesdropping on our conversation. Feel free. Theirs is a free world. So, if you like you can speak in English throughout because I know you have lost your mother tongue in garin turai (white man's land). What? You mean you can still converse in Hausa and Fulfude? Good! It means you are not totally lost. Yaya de? Lafia ko? Sorry o, you mean you are not feeling fine inside American Kuje? No, Farook, don’t curse anybody for what you have caused yourself. By the way, tell me what they are offering you in their prison...Yes, yes, hmmm...You mean they serve you chicken and lamb? What? Abomination! You mean they gave you pork to eat? Sege, danboro. … Sorry, I think I should mind my language. Okay, you sleep on a good bed? Fine. You even watch TV? Akoi NTA, AIT and CHANNELS? Oh, no! It’s only American TV channels? By the way, did I hear you say they are interesting? Kai, yaro na, they want to spoil you sam sam. Haba! What a life of luxury...Say that again...Ehn en, ehn en...Ah! Wayo, Allah! You mean they asked you all sorts of questions during your initial interrogations? Allahu Akbar! You mean they asked you questions about all the Caliphs that have ruled the caliphate? These bature people! What did they want to know about Usuman dan Fodiyo? You said they even asked you about the local ayatollahs, the sheikhs, the imams and the almajiris... Wayo, Allah! Hmm... Hmm... Next time they ask you, tell them we have maitatsine, boko haram and kalakato. You can tell them that kalakato originated from Kalakuta to reflect our federal character structure. Ka ji ko? What! You don’t mean it? Are you saying they also asked you about the sultans, the sardaunas, the Zakky Zakkys and the Maitatsines? Allahu Akbar! You mean they even asked you about Boko Haram and Kalakato? Please, don’t worry unduly...

Yaro na, hello...hello...hello, are you there? Listen carefully. Your mother is cross with you. Your brother, Yusuf, is mad with you. Your friend, Suleiman, is angry with you. Your primary school teacher, Usman, is sweating cold sweat because of you… naughty boy…! Even government officials are raving and fuming. Dorah is frowning. Ojoh is fumbling. OndoAccra is fouling the air, shouting Kaase! Nobody knows whether that is a curse or not. He will just seize the microphone from government media advisers and shout Kaase! Only God knows whether that’s an obscenity or not. In fact, what you did has contributed to the state of coma in which the country has slumped in Saudi. But Farook, da na, why did you do it? I did not send you abroad to learn how to kill. Islam is a religion of peace. I sent you abroad so you can come back and become a permanent secretary within five months, or join the army and become a general within 10 months. Farook, you have disappointed me. I wanted you to be one of the northern elite destined to rule this country, but you bungled it.…

What are you saying? O my God! You mean one unkempt idiot somewhere said you would die a matyr and marry seven virgins! Matyr my foot! Even if you die a matyr and you go to heaven and you are offered seven virgins what instruments are you going to use to work on all of them at the same time? Or don’t you know that aljanah virgins are very jealous and very demanding? My son, you are a fool to believe that you can still function properly after blowing off your “gaba”. Now that you failed in your mission, what are you going to use if, per chance, you are paroled? Larei, Laraba, Hajiya, Mero and Sawaba can no longer wait for you. Their fathers are worrying them to look for new suitors. Farook, see your life! Even Bryson, the man who loves anything virgin, would have rejected that Greek offer from your so-called al-Qaeda friends!

My son, it’s not only the family you have shamed. You have shamed the North, the South, the West, the East and the Middle Belt. Nobody can travel freely abroad again...Shut up! I say shrrrup! Let me talk. Do you know what your mother and I went through to travel to New York the other day? They practically undressed us in search of remnants of your bomb. They ransacked my gaba and “touched” everywhere under my babaringa. Your mother broke down and wept openly, something she had never done before. Yaro na, this is a shame. If I may ask you, what are you going to tell FBI, CIA and other intelligence agencies as the reason for carrying that bomb on board and why? What? Say that again...Hello, hello, yaro na, menene? Yaya de? Ah, ah, Farrruuuku, are you crying? You say no? Kai, wayo, Allah! But I heard you sobbing just now. Okay, son, don’t cry even if you say you are not crying. Weep no more. The deed has been done. We are now in the league of terrorists because when our neighbours were eating crickets and cockroaches as dinner in Zamfara and Gombe, we did not warn them. Now their nocturnal coughs will not allow us to sleep. My son, you have joined them to murder the sleep of the Americans. And now, we shall all sleep no more. Ka ji ko?

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