Truth or dare: the sordid closet infidelity and Senatorial displacement

In any work environment, and typical but not limited to the entertainment industry the world over, there are always snippets of entanglement rumours. These are regular soft – sell angles that make the industry a no-go area for those who cannot manage such image demarketing on their brand. Rappers, Jay-Z and P Diddy have had their names trashed to ragdoll status over similar matters.

Come to think of it, don’t such rumours go viral too in work places across corporate organizations? Yes, you will see two folks of opposite gender getting along fine and and voila… the grapevine goes agog with tell – tale whistles that in most cases put asunder such ‘ innocent ‘ work place interpersonal mutuality. It was just last week here that the Lords of the Nigerian Senate sent packing an apparent weaker sex for daring to ‘ spread the rumour’ that the no 1 of the Senate, the one the street calls ‘ 001 ‘ of The National Assembly indulged and allegedly made some repeated efforts at sustaining some form of harassment against her person. No sooner had she made the allegation that she was flung through the upscale window of NASS by the Distinguished ethics committee and thrown directly under the moving train of protocol. Even when she seemed to have made a last minute threat of an infelicitous remark in her most daring sonic voice, majority of the patriarchal senators did not take her seriously. The few female senators that we thought would indulge “sisters code” and put a cohesive front to support one of their gender, who stood all alone like Daniel in the den of lions, went mute, possibly for fear of the unknown. Now the Kogi born Senator , wife of a fellow Itshekiri brother has ‘escalated the violence ‘ by taking the matter to the international front. You see why Sir Shina Peters (SSP) of the Afro Juju fame sang ” me I no dey play women?” If you remember that song and the import of the lyrics you are a very grown man or woman. It now leaves much to be desired how the Chamber will smell of roses after the escalation of this incident.

The petitioner has gone to shed tears on the global stage, the type of tears Yoruba people call the tears of the bush baby, ‘ Ekun egbere’, and interestingly enough, it is the same Yoruba people that say a woman who explains her matter in uncontrollable tears will one day dissolve her own house… ‘ asunkun rojo obinrin, Ile lo maa ntu! ‘ Pray, won’t this daring femme fatale split This House on the head like this? Watching her in tears at the International women parliament, I got myself some white handkerchief and wiped my sweat. Not tears. It is hot everywhere with NIMET warning of heat stress in 19 States. I have booked a ring side seat to watch in solemnity who trounces the other in this truth or dare taekwondo ring box because this appears more fascinating than actual boxing.

Back to the Nigerian entertainment scene where the audience are meant to be entertained; we got more doses than we bargained. Actor, Ijoba Lande has been waxing like canary, brooding to all who care to hear that his extra beautiful wife, Darasimi, has been sowing her royal oats all around the corridors of macho men of easy virtue in the industry. Thus , the behind the scene enjoyment he singlehandedly paid a dowry on is being farmed out to other colleagues. The poor guy was heard saying he could count on his fingers number of men who ‘ had known ‘ his very attractive better half. The champion of this not- so palatable affair is the ebullient and very bubbly Babatunde Branch popularly called Babatee, a colleague of Ijoba Lande. In this matter ,’ the petitioner’ pointed accusing finger not in a rumor now, but for real at Babatee for using a hidden knife to peel off his yam and devouring the roasted yam with reckless abandon. No tale can be more sordid than this in an industry where infidelity goes hush hush as unfounded rumour. The Yoruba people do say as regards this kind of matter: blame not the concubine of a frolicking house wife if she turns herself to a roving mistress. Our world is filled with men who roam the streets as urbane gentlemen but who in the closet are masters of naughty , nasty games of careless soirees and the weaker sex- so called, who roll out drums of this lyrical swing motions don’t smell of roses either.

The temper of the post modernist age has dissolved morality to into the cesspool making everyone to wonder if any iota of morality will still remain in another half of a century. In all these sordid tale of crass infidelity what people of good conscience should ponder on is, ‘how did the society get here?’

And ‘Quo ver dues? ‘ Where do we go from here?