It's All Adobi Tricia Nwaubani's Fault (Part 2)

Part one

I’m joining the comedy club to end any need to think. With this move, I put all the confusions of my genius behind me. I have sacrificed enough and I merit some pampering. I’m going out there to take everything. That’s what comedians do. They are life’s monsters. Comedians are the only ones who do not have to justify anything – other than their punch lines.

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As a comedian, I’m allowed to stereotype. In fact, it is our stock in trade. Stereotyping is like assuming that anyone who smokes cigarettes also smokes ganja (weed, goof, marijuana). I know. Alexander Dumas warned that, “All generalizations are wrong-including this one.” But I have to ignore that to make a living as a comedian.

Many years ago, my father told me that satire thrives on the use of ridicule, irony and sarcasm, to portray folly and destroy them with mockery. The trouble with satire is that those you expect to use their tongues to count their teeth often do not have that skill. Men created riddles out of fear, not out of any noble desire to stimulate thought.

Despite that minor trouble, satire is what I want to dish out in this column week after week. If you don’t support this column with thunderous applauses, I will be forced to write a ten part series on the Economic Importance of the Prostitutes of Gada. You know that I can do it because I passed through the Guardian newspaper’s School of Journalism.

A colleague of mine, Basketmouth, got married the other day. According to the Daily Sun, amongst the celebrities who attended his wedding were Ali Baba, Jay Jay Okocha, Genevieve, Tee A and Dele Momodu. I’m kind of confused. Dele Momodu is a celebrity? When did that happen? I thought he was working on becoming a credible presidential aspirant? Didn’t Richard Akinjide say that Momodu is not qualified to teach P. E. at his village primary school?

Anyway, my friend, Basketmouth, took his wife to Dubai for honeymoon. Isn’t that romantic? Arabian nights, the moon, a maiden, honey… A happy ending is guaranteed. Unless the Ogidigborigbo of Africa, on the run from Dubai, crawls out of a desert hole in a female dress, unshaved and disheveled.

Talking about disheveled people, I was recently confused when someone asked me the name of Nigeria’s Vice President. Just when I started asking around, he appeared in front of the press to announce that the Federal Government of Nigeria would establish 40 additional universities. Forty? I’m not a party pooper, but isn’t 40 too much? Asked how many Universities Nigeria has, the Vice President replied, “Ahmadu Bello University and others.”

That was exactly my reaction. That money has no value is because you do not have a lot of it -the same with universities. Please correct me if I’m right.