Dear Citizens,
I’m sure you must be exhausted by the barrage of letters you’ve received over the past few weeks. Oddly enough, I write to apologise for the royal contenders’ antics. The competition for chieftaincy is fierce, and they must pull out all the stops to prove they’re the right choice. What better way to achieve that than drowning you in heartfelt greetings, unwavering solidarity stances, and elaborate seasons’ greetings? Naturally, they must also shout their agendas into your faces repeatedly. After all, words speak louder than actions, abi what does Mr Shalaye usually say again?
Because if not, why was Honourable Efokanbale’s messenger boy screaming “Honourable is coming!” at all of us that tragic night of the fire at the Queen’s Palace? To pacify us with this crucial information, of course. He’s so caring. Remember when the town outskirts flooded, and he sent bags of rice to soak up the water? Ehn, he didn’t show up, but he said he was coming. Don’t worry; as long as you can reach him on the phone, nothing else matters. He’s a busy man, please. But not too busy to write.
Barely had the last ember cooled and the smoke cleared when the town’s messenger went around pasting new ‘releases’ everywhere – the true blaze had begun: letterhead warfare.
Oni-Show? For someone who cares so much about projecting the picture, you’d think he’d do better. He didn’t even show up at the fire that night, yet somehow managed to fully understand the tragedy. Oh, the empathy! His words painted him as a fellow sufferer – sharing in ‘our’ pain, mourning with ‘us’, as though the fire had burned his quarters. You see the way every other person was speaking about what they thought and did? Not him. He spoke about ‘us’. It happened to him too. And the rest of the town. Whichever way, he is suffering with us and sends his deepest sympathy, the very long and deep one.
Guess whose letter came out next? Honourable, Honourable. Always exquisite. He called himself a humble servant but still managed to list every phone call he made during the fire. He even promised us fire prevention workshops. I don’t know what those are, but they sound important. And of course, he had zero intentions to politicize the situation, but he had to remind us of his illusionary visions for the future. Suspicious timing, but what do I know? I’m just here to apologize. It is the most sympathetic candidate that should win. Is it not?
Did Mr. Shalaye not get that memo? Where were his sympathies? All-is-true-ism una. All he did was explain—what to do to prevent future fires, what to do if it happens again, and even promising special releases for every disaster imaginable. He even plastered his picture on the letter. Let’s not lie; it looked nice. It could have even passed for campaigning, but who are we to assume that? His cameraman is simply too good! But I think he should apply for the role of Town Adviser instead. He has much advice to give. My apologies are for him, this time around.
But you people, I beg you to consider the camera effort when choosing your next Oloye. I say this because it looks like it’s only Mr. Shalaye that has one. At least Honourable is compensating with his philanthropy and letter-writing skills. Oga I-go-run-am has nothing. Does he not know to post his most handsome pictures everywhere to gain support? Abi he’s not fine ni? He shows no effort. Look at his letters nau, so plain—no design, colour, or proper paragraphs. Does he even know how to write a letter? After all his rushed sentiments and recycled words, he ends by telling us he will lead us to the highway. As in, express? With a head that we haven’t seen? Shior. Let me sha apologize for my Oga.
There were other people oh. They said Bọbọ Not-Hard sent his letter but I did not get it oh. And Lady Tọna Tọna too. How much is my salary that I will shout everybody’s apology? They should leave the road for me, please. Before I sign out, let me quickly give you people advice so all this wahala you’ve gone through will not be a waste.
I know the flowery words and colourful agendas make choosing your next chief challenging. You’re likely considering who makes you feel safe, whose letters you enjoy reading, sound most sincere, and whose posters have the most reassuring smiles. But think long-term. Who will be consistent? Who sent personalized Christmas and New Year letters, complete with prayers and stunning designs? Valentine’s Day, Easter, you name it. Forget maintaining the town square, leading us in battle, or anything like that. Who can keep the ink flowing? Who will give us a steady supply of feel-good letters to keep the palace running smoothly? After all, who needs action when you have well-crafted letters?
Abeoji
