The Peculiar Queen

THE PECULIAR QUEEN

     Ab initio, Amaudo an ancient kingdom situated in Enugu – the then capital city of East Central Zone, Nigeria was unarguably known for its uniqueness in the whole of Igboland, especially during early eighties (1980s), based on the innumerable number of respected personalities found in the area in addition to the invariable and rare farming prowess peculiar to its indigenes in their entirety that it obviously became a point of attraction to every rational being that existed within the aforementioned calendar period. Traders and farmers were frequently touring to the area to purchase their wares and farming materials as the case may be, thereby making it reckoned to be a commercial kingdom to the envy of other neighbouring communities. Owing to the booming nature of the locality, its Traditional Ruler Igwe Ogadi Nduka – Ama II of Amaudo was recognized by all and sundry as the most influential King across the entire Igbo nation; this remarkable phenomenon attached to the throne made it seemed like what every illustrious son of Amaudo wished to sit on. The most fascinating scenario was that anyone either indigene or non-indigene who received a chieftaincy title from the kingdom was widely regarded as one of the most important chiefs in existence; thus any personality within the clan whom was yet to bag the title was seen as one who hadn’t arrived, thereby constituting an unending inconsequential controversy among the people especially during occasions or festive periods.

     “Igwe..!” the community’s town crier Uzondu saluted Igwe Nduka, head bent as the custom expected right in the king’s palace. “Igwe…ee!!” the short, dark and plump young man repeated.

      He was standing about two metres away from the King who was seated on his magnificent and adorable throne surrounded by two palace male servants whom were busy blowing some air on him with native hand-fans made of wicker material.

      He had been ordered by the king just a few minutes ago to appear before him in the palace.

      It was on Friday September 10, 1982 at about some minutes past six in the evening.

     “Uzondu.” Igwe Nduka called.

      “Igwe.” He responded, lowering his moderately big skull.

     “Summon all the sons and daughters of Amaudo,” the King mandated. “Ask them to be in this palace as soon as the cock crows tomorrow.”

     “Igwe…ee”

     “Go immediately.” The King commanded.

     “Igwe…ee.” He said, bowing as usual and hastily dashed out of the palace as demanded.

     The following morning being Saturday 11^th of September 1982 at about seven o’clock, the palace was flooded with every dick and harry in Amaudo as requested by the king; the alarming number of people present at the palace was no doubt an indication that Igwe Nduka was highly adored by his people. An open place at the King’s residence was used as the venue for the gathering rather than the palace due to the intimidating number of persons at the arena.

     Every elderly man and woman was comfortably seated while the youth as well as the kids were all on their feet as a result of insufficient seats.

     “Great people of Amaudo,” Igwe Nduka who sat on his throne commenced his awaited speech in a very high and pleasant tone. “You are all welcome.”

     On the King’s right hand was his immediate younger brother Chief Amaechi Nduka while High Chief Amasiri Ogbuehi – the Traditional Prime Minister (TPM) of the ancient kingdom was rightly seated by his left side.

     “Igwe…ee!” The people chorused in unison.

     “Without being told,” Igwe Nduka who dressed in his kingship regalia proceeded. “You already know why we are gathered here.” He hinted.

     The elders amidst the crowd nodded.

     “Of course, a week today September 18 would be our Iri Ji festival,” the king said. “So, I thought it wise to remind you of the formalities involved based on our ancient tradition.”

     ‘Iri Ji’ festival, which was an annual event, meant New Yam festival; the remarkable ritual which was celebrated every 18^th of September marked the beginning of yam consumption for each farming year in the kingdom. Thus no one, not even the king, was supposed to consume a newly harvested yam until the ‘Iri Ji’ ceremony is observed.

     “And more importantly,” Igwe Nduka rode on. “On that very day, the heir to this throne I’m sitting on would be presented to the entire people of Amaudo.”

     The elders nodded in appreciation. There was maximum silence among the gathering.

      Interestingly, the heir to the throne of Amaudo was meant to be ceremoniously presented by the serving king in every fifty years interval, and the ceremony was designed to coincide with the day of the new yam festival of the affected year. Igwe Ogadi Nduka – Ama the second (Ama II) of Amaudo whom was eight-three years of age was presented by his late father, the pioneer and immediate past king, Igwe Obifere Nduka – Ama the first (Ama I) of Amaudo as the heir to the throne in question fifty years back when he (Igwe Ogadi) was 33-years-old; and he succeeded his late father two years after the event at 35, after his father’s eternal exit. Suffice it to say that he had consecutively spent about forty-eight years on the throne as the Ama II of Amaudo, making him the longest served king in the kingdom so far.

     According to the tradition, the kingship of Amaudo wasn’t rotatory rather hereditary. The first son of the serving king was meant to succeed him when he dies, but the second son of the king could be enthroned if the supposed heir to the throne (the first son) dies prior to his father’s departure. And a situation where the king had no male child to succeed him, his immediate younger brother would assume the throne if he eventually passed on.

     “As it stands,” the old but vibrant Igwe Nduka continued. “Ahamefula my son will be officially presented on that day as the heir to this throne.”

     “Igwe…ee!” They chorused unanimously.

     Prince Ahamefula, who was 51, was the fourth child and only son of Igwe Nduka whom had two wives; he was begotten by the King’s second wife. The said Prince was seated very close to his father - the King, clad in complete royal regalia.        

     The gathering, which lasted for over one hour, ended successfully after light refreshments. At about half past eight, everyone departed for their respective residences.

     On Friday 17^th of September 1982, less than a day to the proposed New Yam festival coupled with the presentation of the heir to the throne, something very terrible transpired; Prince Ahamefula Nduka – the incoming heir to the throne kicked the bucket unexpectedly. He passed on in the evening of that fateful day in his matrimonial room. The incident, which generated an unquantifiable uproar in the royal home and among the people of Amaudo interrupted every activity taking place in the kingdom including trading, farming and what have you. Owing to the painful development, Igwe Nduka died of heart attack at the night of that very day.

      Consequently, in one year’s time after observing all the burial and mourning rites of the late king and that of his late son, on Saturday October 22, 1983, Chief Amaechi Nduka the late king’s immediate younger brother was enthroned as the Ama the third (Ama III) of Amaudo by the Chief Priest of the land as the custom demanded.

      Subsequently, Igwe Amaechi Nduka’s reign as the king of Amaudo brought a total hardship to the entire people of the kingdom and its environs; to say the least, he was not unlike a tyrant. His leadership was completely contrary to the reign of his late elder brother.

      Amazingly, four months on, precisely Tuesday 14^th of February 1984, he mysteriously died on the throne. Prior to his exit, he confessed that he, alongside Late Igwe Ogadi’s first wife – Ugoeze Obiageri was responsible for the untimely death of Prince Ahamefula; according to the confession, the late Prince was killed via food poisoning with the help of the aforesaid queen.

     She willingly accepted the offer due to her silly jealousy; she couldn’t imagine seeing the son of her sister in-law recognized as the heir of the throne, or succeeding her husband Igwe Ogadi Nduka when he dies.

     Two weeks later as nemesis would have it, the peculiar queen was overtaken by psychosis.

 

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Unceremonious Step

UNCEREMONIOUS STEP

    Walking lonely along the lonely street situated in the city of Umuahia, South-Eastern Nigeria at about few minutes past six in the evening on Saturday 10^th of March 2007 was all Chukwuebuka cared for at the moment; the 36-year-old slim, dark complexioned and about 5-foot tall young man dressed in casual attire thought it wise to take a walk having embarked on his not unusual thinking section all through the day in his humble abode otherwise known as Boys’ quarters. Chukwuebuka Okere who was definitely headed for an undefined destination was a graduate of English Linguistics from the University of Calabar, Cross River State, Nigeria popularly known and addressed as ‘UniCal’; he obtained his Bachelor of Arts (B.A) eight years back, 1999 precisely, and since he rounded off his compulsory National Youth Service programme in February 2001, the dude who was actually reckoned as one of the best brains in his department during his school days was still endlessly roaming in all the streets and major roads of Umuahia – the capital city of Abia State in search of a white-collar job, which was seemingly not forthcoming. Owing to his unending joblessness, he almost hanged himself few months back in the name of ‘frustration’. As he strolled calmly along the apparently endless street where he resided, so many terrible thoughts dawned on his miserable mind as he was subconsciously observing his fellow passers-by in their to-and-fro movements, though in about five minutes intervals which made the street appeared sparingly lonely.

     “Ebuka!” a feminine voice called from behind to no avail. “Ebuka Okere!!” She reiterated in a higher tone.

     He stopped and turned back on hearing the second call, and surprisingly he sighted a female being that seemed a bit familiar standing about half kilometer away from him with car keys in her left hand. He hastily took a few steps backward to meet her.

      It was Ogechi. Ogechi Okafor who was a graduate of Marketing happened to be Chukwuebuka’s schoolmate as well as girlfriend way back in the university but he graduated ahead of her because she was two years lower than him in level. Pathetically, Chukwuebuka dumped her in April 2000 during her third year (300 Level) when he was undergoing his youth service programme; the unexpected and unspeakable estrangement from a man she cared so much about, which caused her a severe heartbreak, almost claimed her precious life if not the intervention of her close female friends on campus.

     Ogechi who was light-skinned, slim and about 1.5 metres tall was putting on blue trousers, pink top and high-heel pink foot wears; the high heel made her appeared taller than Chukwuebuka. Ab initio she was unarguably a pretty damsel; and at that very moment she seemed extremely prettier to Chukwuebuka’s greatest amazement.

     “Ogechi…Okafor!” He exclaimed, folding his arms while standing about a metre away from her.

     “Surprise?” She enquired, smiling.

     “Oh my God,” he said. “You are completely different now.”

      She smiled.

     “What’s the secret?”

     “Well, na God oh.”

     “So, what are you doing here?” He inquired. “What brought you to Umuahia?” He added.

      “I live here.”

      “You mean,” he said. “You are a resident of Umuahia?”

      “Of course.”

      “It’s a lie.”

      “Honestly.”

      “You don’t mean it,” he said. “Since when?”

      “Since I finished my NYSC in 2003.”

      “Oh my God,” he dished out. “This is getting more interesting.”

      “Actually, I live around here,” she chipped in. “In the neighbouring street, Ekpoma Crescent to be precise.”

      “Ekpoma Crescent?”

      “Ya.”

       Ekpoma Crescent was a residential corner peculiar to notable personalities.

      “And you,” she said. “You live around?”

      “Ya,” he replied. “This is my street.”

      “Are you serious?’

      “Yes,” responded Chukwuebuka amidst a nod. “I reside at the beginning of the street, Number 3 precisely.”

     “Since when have you been in Umuahia?”

     “Ever since I concluded my youth service.’

     “So what have been happening since then?” she curiously enquired.

      There was no response.

     “Look at you, Ebuka,” she observed, frowning. “You used to be plump.”

     “My dear,” he broke the silence. “It’s a long story.”

     Since after his NYSC, he had only been occupied with one menial job or the other just to make ends meet.

     “Well, I’m actually catching fun here with some of my colleagues,” she abruptly changed the topic. “One of us is marking her birthday.”

     There was a relaxation outlet behind her; the sound coming from the joint was obviously felt by the passersby. That was where she was seated among her friends before she caught sight of Chukwuebuka in the distance the moment he passed.

     “Would you mind joining us?” She urged.

     “Joining you?” He said. “Like this?” He added, pointing at his dress.

      The casual wears he was clad in comprised black three-quarter jeans, green polo and brown leather slippers.

      “You are okay,” she admitted. “After all, you are a man.”

      “Sure?”

      “Of course,” she said. “Besides, this is your street.” She added, paused. “So, you are equally the landlord or the host.” She declared cheerfully.

       He smiled. “Okay, if you say so.” He said opening his hands, indicating that he had surrendered.

     “So, shall we?” She landed pointing towards the joint with her left arm.

      They majestically walked hand in hand to the joint.

      She introduced him to the gathering that was made up of various sophisticated ladies and gentlemen as soon as they got to the point before they assumed their seats; they were seated opposite each other at one of the free white plastic tables in the arena.

     Initially, he refused to take anything when he was asked to name what he cared for owing to the enormous guilt his mindset was preoccupied with, until he was profoundly persuaded by Ogechi to do so. Finally having succumbed, he ordered for a plate of pepper soup to be accompanied with a bottle of chilled malt.

     The fun lasted till about eight o’clock at night when everyone departed for their respective residences. Ogechi who was the Marketing Manager of one of the renowned firms in the city gave a copy of her complimentary card to Chukwuebuka prior to her departure; she asked him to see her in the office first thing the following Monday.

      On the said Monday being March 12, 2007, Chukwuebuka arrived at Ogechi’s office as instructed. The moment he walked into her magnificent office, he knelt down to seek for unconditional forgiveness with tears on his eyes. She made him understand right in the office that she had forgiven him long ago, if not she wouldn’t have asked him to join her at the relaxation outlet let alone inviting him to her place of work; a pronouncement that made the guilty poor man to develop an abrupt high fever.

      Two weeks later, she helped him to secure an employment in her company. When her friends and colleagues confronted her for the seemingly silly and unceremonious step she had taken having learnt what the man in question did to her years back, she categorically disclosed to them that she bore no grudge for him again, stating that a known devil was far better than an unknown angel. Ogechi who was still a splinter at 33, unequivocally went further to notify them that she was damn willing and ready to settle down with Chukwuebuka if he eventually proposed her. Apparently, she couldn’t forget in a hurry the juicy and remarkable moment they shared together, and she was of the view that he could not forget either; thus that remained her motivator.

     Amazingly, in about three months later, Chukwuebuka and Ogechi who were now colleagues re-established another intimate emotional affair to the envy of all and sundry that were within. Subsequently, six months on, Saturday September 8, 2007 to be precise, they tied the knot; their ostensibly divine union remained an interesting story headline to their teeming friends, relatives and well-wishers.

     Thereafter, they were happily married with three kids – two males and a female.    

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Decisive Decision

DECISIVE DECISION

     “CDC…!” Chief Adelakun exclaimed excitedly.

     “Innovation!!” The members of the gathering chorused in a very high voice.

     “CDC…!” He reiterated.

     Chief Dele Adelakun who was rightly standing on a podium was a seasoned entrepreneur turned politician; he actually ventured into politics owing to his extreme passion for humanity – he was undoubtedly an ardent and well-known humanist and philanthropist. Due to his distinguished nomenclature, he was unanimously elected as the flag-bearer of the Coalition for Democratic Change (CDC) by the majority of the party’s membership during its primary election to contest for the Chairmanship position of Ojeiran Local Government Area (LGA) – one of the most popular LGAs found in one of the states situated in the South-Western region of Nigeria. Right on that podium, he was observing one of his electioneering campaign tours as organized by his party (CDC).

      CDC was obviously a well-respected and leading party among the five major political parties eligible for the awaited LG polls; so far since inception, the party had been known for producing respectable and notable individuals as its flag-bearers for any political post across the country. Hence, every citizen of Ojeiran LGA alongside other LGAs in the state was looking up to the party as regards the aforementioned LG election, which was barely two weeks ahead.

      “Innovation…!!” the gathering responded accordingly in a more passionate tone.

      The campaign was taking place in one of the ancient public primary schools in the LGA on the 13^th of November 2002 at about some minutes past eleven in the morning. The arena was densely preoccupied with the party’s flag of blue, white and yellow colours with the picture of a palm-frond, which signified its logo, inscribed on it.

      “We already know why we are here.” Chief Adelakun proceeded. “Therefore, there’s no need for any introduction or preliminaries.”

      “Yes oooh!” The crowd chorused.

      “I don’t have much to say because I’m a man of few words,” he said. “But I can assure you that we are ready to bring total innovation to this LGA, just as the party’s slogan signifies.”

     “We believe you.” Majority exclaimed in appreciation.

“But it’s noteworthy that this cannot be actualized without proper accountability,”he said, paused. “Thus, accountability remains my watchword.”

      “Chairman – Chairman – Chairman…” The audience chanted continuously in anticipation.

      He signalled them to calm down using his arms. “I’m a banker,” he rode on. “In other words, there’s nothing one would teach me regarding finances or budgetary.”

      The frontiers amidst the intimidating crowd nodded in comprehension and agreement.

     Chief Adelakun – a huge and light-complexioned man in his late forties, who was clad in a dark-blue caftan, a native cap made of the same material and black plain shoes was an astute freelance banking professional; he had B.Sc in Banking and Finance from Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU) Ile-Ife, Osun State, Nigeria coupled with other numerous Advanced Professional honours in Finance and Business.

     “Before I conclude,” the flag-bearer said. “I must let you know that Education and Health would be my priority.”

    “We dey your side oh!” They chorused in vernacular.

     “Just look at our school,” he lamented, pointing at the dilapidated structure of the primary school being used as the campaign venue. “It’s nothing to write home about.”

      The members of the gathering frowned, shook their heads in disappointment.

      “The most annoying part is that,” he continued. “Most of these forgotten schools are the alma-mater of most stakeholders in the society.”

      The speech proceeded for over thirty minutes; it was indeed a holistic address. At the long run, the LG Party Chairman Chief Dapo Olabiyi rounded off the long-lasted talk. The audience were finally showered with light refreshments as well as souvenirs such as hand fans and portable form of the party’s flag prior to their departure.

     In two weeks’ time, on Saturday November 30, 2002 precisely, the election successfully held as scheduled, and Chief Dele Adelakun of the CDC emerged victorious as the Chairman-Elect of Ojeiran LGA; three weeks after, on Friday 20^th December 2002, he was sworn in along with his Deputy, Barr Gbenga Olusola.

     According to the state’s law, every Executive Chairman was meant to spend three years in office. To people’s greatest surprise, Chief Adelakun’s 3-year tenure was something to reckon with contrary to his predecessor’s style of leadership; ab initio, he took every of his campaign promises to include adequate education, good and affordable health care, standard road network, among others, very seriously that he was embarrassed with fathomless eulogies by every dick and harry in the locality, even in absentia. Among all, he rejuvenated the strength of his party (CDC) as far as his Local Government Council was concerned that in intervals, the overall leadership of the party would organize revelry just to celebrate him.

      In 2005, which marked the end of his tenure, Chief Adelakun was determined to re-contest for a second-term in office having made his intention known to the members of the party as well as the electorate; and he gained the support and encouragement of virtually all citizens of the LGA owing to his tremendous and overwhelming performance during his first term. Thus, he re-emerged victorious during his party’s primary election thereby placing him as the party’s flag-bearer in the area. On Sunday 11^th of September 2005 just less than eight weeks to the election, something unimaginable and horrific transpired; at the night of that very day, around thirty-minutes past eight (8.30 pm) to be precise, Chief Adelakun – ‘the People’s Choice’ as he was fondly addressed, was brutally murdered alongside his driver in his black Range Over Jeep while returning home as soon as he finished attending to a very crucial meeting involving leadership of his party in his office. Ascertaining the assassins or persons behind the bloody killing remained far-fetched and a mirage to the Police.

     Consequently, his party (CDC) was left with no other choice than to provide a substitute as their flag-bearer as the awaited election, which was scheduled for Saturday November 5, 2005, was already by the corner. So, they had to organize a primary election for other interested members of the party; fortunately, Chief Abiodun Olatunji emerged victorious. Chief Olatunji was the runner-up to the late Chief Adelakun during the previous primary election of the party that produced the deceased as the party’s flag-bearer for his second term bid.

      In one month time, the LG polls took place as planned and amazingly, Chief Olatunji won the election. No doubt, his anticipated victory was not unconnected to the fact that his party – Coalition Democratic Change (CDC) remained the greatest as at then coupled with the remarkable footprints his immediate predecessor, Chief Adelakun left behind. Suffice it to say that, the electorate were of the indisputable view that CDC was determined and consistent in producing sincere and distinguished individuals as its flag-bearers; according to them such tradition as presumed was an uncompromising principle as well as the watchword of the political party in question. Hence, they sheepishly concluded that any aspirant coming under the aegis of the party was definitely flawless.

      On the contrary, Chief Olatunji’s administration was completely opposite that of his immediate predecessor, that, the people’s optimism faded up; in the first and second years of his tenure, nothing new was done or implemented in the whole of the LGA and the worst was that maintenance culture was thrown to the waste bin. Rather than doing the needful, Chief Olatunji was obviously busy enriching himself and his entire household.

      As a result of Chief Olatunji’s nonchalant and lackadaisical attitudes toward good governance, there were speculations and insinuation among the people of the area that he could be responsible for Chief Adelakun’s demise, but there was no tangible proof to nail him down even though it was apparent. The most interesting aspect of the ordeal was that, the electorate learnt a lesson that a political party wasn’t meant to be dependable or reckoned with by the people during any electioneering era when it called for good governance; rather, whom the party uses as its flag-bearer. Thus, they concluded that they were supposed to concentrate mainly on the antecedents and accomplishments or the individuality of the aspirants rather than laying emphasis on the political party they intended to contest under. Needless to say; Chief Olatunji’s misdeed served as a deterrent as well as an endpoint to their longed nurtured fallacy.

      Subsequently, the people were placed on an untold hardship that they were pushed to make a decisive decision; hence, the leaders among the electorate with the consent of the entire electorate forwarded a Vote of No-Confidence on Chief Olatunji to the Legislative Council of the local government. After all the consequential investigations carried out by the Ad-hoc Committee set up by the Legislative Council, an unanimous motion was moved by the majority of the members of the council for immediate removal of the alleged culprit from office for gross-misconduct and misappropriation of funds. In consequence to this development, on Wednesday 17^th of October 2007 almost two years of his stay in office as the Executive Chairman of Ojeiran Local Government Area, Chief Abiodun Olatunji was served a Letter of Impeachment by the council, thereby authorising his Deputy to take over as the Acting Chairman prior to when he would be duly sworn in substantively.

      Few days later, he was arrested and thereafter arraigned by the country’s anti-graft agency.

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