Chagoury: Always on the prowl — FEMI ADEOTI COLUMN 

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Bold, confident and daring. All rolled into incredible one! Always on the prowl. From start to finish. And from top to the very bottom.

From military to civilian. Precisely, from tyrant Sani Abacha to President Bola Tinubu. The story is the same, old, odd shame. Getting worse, horrible and horrifying.

Gilbert Ramez Chagoury is it! Holding us firmly in the jugular. He won’t let us be. We cry, we yell. We shout. He won’t leave us any time soon. He’s taking us on a rough, tough, hard, harsh marathon.

Chagoury is a Nigerian of Lebanese descent. He actually came to Nigeria on January 8, 1948. He was born to immigrant parents in Lagos. So? He is one of us by commission or omission; accident or incident. Is it by default? Not really.

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He’s a billionaire businessman. He has his fingers in almost every pie. Arguably, the biggest include, but not limited to: Eko Hotel and Suits; Eko Atlantic City. And the controversy-ridden Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway, as they would want to label it.

He was a major player in Abacha dark days. He practically caged the dark-goggled General. He’s back as a critical backbone of the Tinubu government.

Neither Tinubu nor Chagoury hides this fact from us. They won’t feign it. They won’t pretend it. Quiet interesting of awkward sorts. Their body language, attitudes, actions and inactions exposed them as much.

Moreover, they flaunt their business relationship with reckless impudence. Whose ox is gored bothers them not. The end justifies means. The means justifies the end. Whatever, whichever comes first.

So? As it was with Abacha, so it is with Tinubu. Chagoury is all over us. Embarrassingly overwhelming. Grabbing whatever crosses his landmine-laced path. Run with it. And devouring such with great relish.

He is feasting on us brazenly. And he doesn’t care a hoot. This is festering with insolent abundance. We’re being dragged into a long distance journey.

Amazing and amusing. Why are our leaders taking us through all this? The stress, the strain shouldn’t be ours. We didn’t ask for it. Why is it then being made our portion? And you are giving it to us in enormous, inordinate measures. Why?

We never envisaged this burden. Neither did we bargain for this heavy weight. We deserved none of them.

We are not cut for Chagoury. He is not our spec, but our speck, our blemish. Why giving him a space in our national life? Why a Chagoury after a Buhari happened to us? Even-back-to-back.

We thought Chagoury was gone with Abacha. We naively erred. He never left our space in the first instance. Not even at any time. The reason he is back stronger than ever before.

Now, we can’t breathe. We need a fresh breath of life. And Chagoury is not it. He is far away from it. He’s choking us. Take him off us fast. The same speed you voraciously forced him on us. It was done without asking. You ignored our sensibilities. You didn’t even believe we had one.

We would be glad if our life is devoid of Chagoury. We desire a clean breakaway. Our path has crossed long enough. And it never paid us. Not once. We regretted our past association with the billionaire. We dread a repeat performance.

The more we hobnob with Chagoury, the more miserable and wretched we become. We’re always drained dry. We are broken financially, physically and emotionally.

Our experience remains a nightmare of no small mean. See why we cringe at a mere mention of a Chagoury. And the Chagoury clan is making matters worst. It is adding daily to our legion of woes. And this is not pleasant.

Chagoury has become an enduring principality in this our queer clime. A deadly recurring decimal in our national life. Very slippery, sly and devilish.

What cannot happen to us in this country does not exist. We’re in great bondage. And our maximum rulers are despicable. They continue to rein in on us for their greed and avarice.

We are in the cold. We need warmth. Certainly not from a Chagoury.

LAST LINES

Our wild, weird, ways of life

Come. See what we’re doing to ourselves by ourselves. It’s unthinkable.  Huge damages we visit on ourselves in pursuit of our uncanny greed. What a rat race!

We are a peculiar people. Wildly wired for the wrong reason. Our insatiable desire for vanities is unmatched. You won’t find its kind anywhere but Nigeria. Nobody does it better than us. An island unto ourselves.

We are of weird character. That is long given. Oil, the black gold, we turn its fortunes to our misfortunes. We mess with it around shamelessly. It can lead us into perdition. It can in a positive alternative lead to our redemption. The choice is strictly ours. And it is voluntary.

It can’t be forced. That will be ridiculous. We are supposed to be old enough. To pick what is the best for us. But how are we handling it? With utter levity, flippancy!

Within us, we have the bad and the ugly in some surplus. Who dares to beat that? The tiny bunch of the good among us is bewildered, mystified. Peeved and miffed.

Lawlessness is the order. And disorderliness is the law. Chaos is our way of life. And abnormality is the new normal. Our bizarre way of life is odd indeed. Strangely, we remain indifferent.

We move speedily in reverse. And fumble and tumble in zigzag. Our path is packed full of twists and turns. That eerie manner, we constantly run into turbulence. Accompanied by great violence.

Even in such hopelessness. We still fake determination. We half-heartedly strive to navigate the tumult. We end up in the cobwebs of crossroads. Ours is monumental disaster. We sink deeper. More perplexed, bemused and devastated.

Are we eternally cursed? What cannot happen to us does not exist. Look around. Search. Dig deep. Burn midnight candles. Have you found any? Great doubt!

We’re unserious species; the rulers and the ruled alike. Our rules are never meant to be obeyed. But designed to be observed in flagrant, striking disobedience.

Everyone is guilty. The leaders and the led. The citizens and the aliens. Curiously, we manage to strike a mischievous synergy. It’s out of the ordinary and anomalous. Yet, we choose to care not. We brashly carry on as if nothing serious is amiss. Such is our eccentric way of life.

Can’t we for once have a genuine rethink? Must we continue in this absurd manner? Our ways and means are not it. They are tricky and cumbersome. No nation does it such way and progress.

Our modus operandi is faulty ab initio. That explains our unending and mounting plights. Our predicaments are shooting up every second. Aiming at the rooftop.

This is how we torment ourselves for personal aggrandisement. We are the architects of our tribulations. Plenty of our afflictions are self-inflicted. That’s the way we ruin ourselves. SAD!

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