If this were the Roman parliament, I would at this moment be readjusting my toga, clearing my throat and assuming a posture of importance that I’ve practiced as I looked at my reflections in a dozen creeks, streams and rivers on my way towards Rome.
And, when I’m ready to deliver my well-crafted oration, I would start by declaring, “fellow Romans and citizens of the world, please remove the veil from your eyes, smell the scent of the past and peer into the future for I present to you our savior, David Bonaventure, son of Mark!”
Of course, this is not the Roman parliament and they don’t wear togas in the Nigerian national assembly. That would be considered profane. Nigerian legislators, the hope of millions of hungry, unemployed or under employed citizens, are incomplete without thousand dollar suits and starched native attires that will slash your skin if you get too close.
And, their leader is a man I love. David Mark. If the man were a woman, I would have applied to him to be my sugar mommy. Or, done it the way it’s done today which I must confess I don’t know because I have my mitts firmly dipped in the late 30s and 40s pool.
The reason I love Mark has nothing to do with his looks, how he talks or, as someone who hasn’t seen him walking in more than two decades, obviously its not the way he carries himself. I love the man because as a koboless kid in the age when kobos were worth something, Mark made me feel rich.
Back in those days, he was the communications minister. And, he had a line that should be copyrighted. “Telephones are not for poor people!” I loved it. It almost landed me a girlfriend until my kobos didn’t add up when it was time to pay for a one naira meat-pie.
That I even got talking to this girl from the rich avenue was all thanks to the then Colonel Mark. We didn’t have money but my uncle had a telephone. By Mark’s declaration, I was a rich kid. And, I wasn’t going to let that go to waste. So, I moved in on a girl several steps up the wealth ladder. And, she wasn’t even pretty. I just had to live in Mark’s world.
As I grew older and became more religious, I grew to hold Mark in reverence. This man is no ordinary man. If he were born two thousand years ago, he would be canonized. His name reads like one of those they say God has anointed in the Bible. We know how little David mowed down the mighty Goliath in the Old Testament. And, the second gospel in the New Testament was written by a dude named Mark.
David Mark. The name should be a song. And, if it’s not, I’m singing it. You never know, it may be one of the passwords to heaven. I mean, seriously, the coincidence is just too big to overlook. This man may be Nigeria’s savior. He was part of the group that sacked the second republic; he’s been a governor, minister and has been right at the corridor of power since the advent of the third republic.
And just so you know there is a divine hand in the rise of the modern day every century man, the country went crazy over a measly 76 kobo increase in gas. A price that makes people like Mark laugh because it’s tough for a Nigerian leader that deals in billions to wrap his/her mind around kobos. Some people think the useless, brownish metal is for stoning maiguards and domestic servants.
Like David Mark would probably tell you, God works in miraculous ways, including through a president whose good luck doesn’t look too good right now. When Nigerians decided it was fuel subsidy or protest, David Mark emerged from his palatial residence where he keeps tabs on the pulse of ordinary Nigerians and brokered peace.
Without Mark, we may not only be paying N141 for petrol right now, we may be begging to pay for it. And, before the whole fuel subsidy craziness, former presidential spokesman, Olusegun Adeniyi, in his book on the Yar A’dua regime, had basically said that David Mark saved the country during the fatal illness of the late president.
I don’t know who the man’s publicists are but they need to be flogged like the soldier boys used to do. Nigerians should be singing David Mark’s praise instead of the national anthem. They should compose a song in his name and sing it like they used to do for leaders in the communist era or in today’s North Korea.
I used to think the battle for the presidency in 2015 was a straight fight between Abubakar Atiku and Aliyu Babangida. Atiku has long dreamt of that top post and believes it’s his destiny. Well, destiny sometimes has an expiration date. For Atiku, that looks like 2015. And, Babangida has been on a silent campaigning for a few years,
But, move aside guys. Here comes the king. And, his name is in the Bible too. Twice. Please, chant with me. David Mark! David Mark! David Mark! The race for 2015 is on!