Jungle Party: The myth of June 12 -By J. Ezike

J. Ezike

As the barbarians give credit to savages, the gullible is seduced by the message of the hypocrite. There is always a danger in allowing the mind to become captive to an ordered system. The mind should be left to wander in sanity and explore the curiosities that gave its feet the mission to find truth.

But truth is only a matter of opinion.

The myth of June 12 holds a major lesson – one that has been fundamental in undressing the core meaning of politics. And to a certain degree, it takes a “man of steel” to interfere with its purpose. For when politics is being seriously interfered with, when it is opposed with truth and a belief founded on absolute righteousness, Jungle Party can be staged on mankind.

The author of this piece may be too young to join the discourse and examine the events that gave rise to the controversies surrounding MKO Abiola’s assassination. But when one has sucked from the breasts of history and walked the path of men who knew from what savagery politics has redeemed its devotees, he becomes a tree of knowledge. So, I am not here to rewrite history or add anything to it. No. History is truth-worthy enough to bring enlightenment to the disposed mind that flirts with it.

Who killed MKO Abiola, is a question for the gods. I am not here to investigate. I am not an investigator. I am not a C.I.A agent, neither am I “tea specialist”. I do not know much about Thomas Pickering and I definitely haven’t heard of Susan Rice. It might interest you to know that Abdusalami Abubakar is not my friend, so don’t expect me to have his phone number. Emeka Anyaoku is not my father, simply because I wear red cap. And if you believe Al Mustafa when he tells you I know something about the political killing that took place behind close door, then you’re bound to believe anything.  And like some Dibia of Amaruru Kingdom, I cannot conjure magical visions of the scenario that thumbnails the death of MKO Abiola. So, if I have disappointed you with this essay, do yourself a favor and quit reading.

Carl Clausewitz’s notable quotation on war and politics resonates loudly with the myth of June 12 and even the Nigeria-Biafra war. He had legitimized war as a political instrument when he made this emphatic statement: “Politics is war by other means…”

Anyone who has done a little research on Carl Clausewitz’s biography will agree that his philosophical deduction about politics echoes truth and places a “favorable verdict” on the use of war as a diplomatic strategy in achieving order and hierarchy. In his own estimation, when dialogue becomes a difficult course to achieve, war becomes the final resort. And because war is synonymous to death and politics, the myth of June 12 matters in this case.

Just so that there are no ambiguities, I advise that you do not misinterpret my language. But if you insist, then allow me correct your mind by stating clearly that: I am not a fan of blood-porn neither am I an advocate of the “united onslaught on sovereignties.” I definitely do not have a fetish for war jingles. And you are wrong to think of me as “politically obsessed.” Never been a crusader of Jungle Parties. And if now, your mind has wandered back to reasonable judgment and sound enough to deconstruct the mystery embedded in this piece authored by an enthusiast of “dialogue above conflict”, then bravo to you my son, you seem to be getting the drift.

What happened in June 12 was simply a grand political pageantry of devilry and I do not mean it in a moral sense. The coinage – “Jungle Party” brings us to the core meaning of “politics” as we call it.

Men, only slightly less righteous than Pope Johnpaul, who sang catholic hymns in St. Paul’s Cathedral, and bowed to Allah on the holy soil of Mecca, underwent, before our eyes, a metamorphosis of which the most confounding aspect was not their insatiable hunger for power or their united onslaught on one man but something more complex, more fathomless in their collective desires and the employment of their consciences. Like the canine beasts of the Bush Country, they became, in a flash of light, furiously blood-thirsty and fantastically ruthless.

For the Yoruba, it had not occurred to them that they could become prey to their “masters” and predators onto themselves as a tribe, but June 12 came as a living witness to their self-betrayal, as a messiah, crucified on the cross, so that his blood would serve as the sacrificial reminder of their political place in the union, and that they, like the Igbo and other tribes that makeup the unworkable union of attrition, are all slaves in the British ship captained by the Hausa-Fulani.

Owning to the way the Yoruba has been politically romanced to an earth-shattering orgasm by the Sokoto and Kano caliphate in exchange for an outright, slavish loyalty and the fact that they have the racial tendency to prostitute their conscience for a plate of gold and a cup of crude oil, made them to betray their hero and by compromising to keep the South-West quiet as the grave, after the assassination of MKO Abiola. It was this same politics of betrayal by the Yoruba that gave life to this monstrosity we call Nigeria, when Awolowo encouraged Ojukwu to secede and made it public that immediately Biafra seceded, Yoruba land will follow. Even you, reading this essay know how Awolowo reneged on his promise and by doing so, betrayed the Igbo race to satisfy NOT the demand of the Yoruba race, but to achieve his own opportunistic goal of being “Head of State.”

The Yoruba as a nation would be living in denial to claim that they are unaware of the billions of British pounds, American dollars and Nigerian nairas withdrawn from the Central Bank of Nigeria for immediate bribery of key leaders of the Yoruba race.  And why they choose to enshroud this truth with a fog secrecy is even more appalling and a monumental disgrace to them. June 12 should serve as the day the Yoruba nation betrayed and killed MKO Abiola and not the myth that is being sold to the public.

Like I said, every man is entitled to use his brain in whatever capacity he chooses. Those whose minds are captives to the ordered account of the June 12 saga, have the liberty to be seduced by the narratives of the messengers of confusion. It is hard to say exactly how long this traitorous bearing would last. Matters are not helped by the fact that the Yoruba seemed rather to enjoy its betrayal status that is manifestly perverse. Especially now that the Mafia-in-chief of the armed forces of the Fulani republic of Nigeria has recognized the “double-crossing demeanor” of the Yoruba and is capitalizing on that “weakness” to win a second term by honoring the Yoruba hero assassinated by his own people through their collective silence, betrayal and greed.

You don’t have to like what I am writing. You don’t have to agree with me either. I am the last person on earth that will ever bother about what you think of my opinion. Let me remind you, my son, that I am NOT writing to put bread on my table, or to acquire any stupid fame or glory that means nothing but vanity. There is nothing the world can offer me that can make me compromise my inner-most convictions. If need be that I stand alone in professing the truth about the June 12, about the silence and betrayal that became something implacable in the spirits of the Yoruba race, something deeper than the eye of mystery, some alien and alarmingly peculiar trait.

There is yet another jungle party. This time Tinubu, Osibanjo and a tiny coterie of the Yoruba are special guests on the list. Instead of revulsion, they feel teased and fingered to the climax of excitement by the devious, well-crafted recognition of MKO Abiola. If the Yoruba allow themselves to be used yet again as puppets by the Hausa-Fulani scheming components of the APC, to perpetuate the reign of tyranny, of indirect colonial subjugation, then they have succeeded only in killing and betraying MKO Abiola twice.

Above all, the Yoruba race must remember that: history never forgets and never forgives.

But, one of the most beautiful stories ever told was the story of the “villain” who repented and turned “hero.” And if you are able to deconstruct the meaning of this aforementioned statement, then kudos to you my son, you got the message.