Like Chief Sunday Igboho like the folkloric Sàárẹ́!

It's unfortunate Chief Sunday Igboho, like the folkloric Sàárẹ́, is not rebuffing or jilting the accouterments of adulation to be more diligent and courteous in words and acts. He, so much unfortunate and saddening, is unaware of his swift dash to the path of the proverbial Sàárẹ́!

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By Adebayo Shu’aib Pedro Alabi

In the days of his pantheon, Sàárẹ́ was a greatly prized current affairs arguer, and the nature was quick to fame him for his firmly imposing versatility. From the North-end of the kingdom would exist the news of his knowledge of things, and to the South-end are elites wishing friendships with him; even his name didn’t escape the idyllic choruses of the kingdom’s greatest bards. Sàárẹ́ was a behemoth whose deep knowledge of things and bravery to call it forth when at need eased him to dine and wine with kings. He, undoubtedly, was existing with an aura of a demigod.

Famous near and far, Sàárẹ́ would wish for things at whim and the kingdoms would unanimously get them bagged for him, so much his opponents were regarded the resident evils in the kingdoms and were soon made to apostatize of their divergent opinions, their moral and God given beliefs. They were, in the kingdoms’ undying love and acceptance for Sàárẹ́, made to worship him alike.

Sàárẹ́ soon had the kingdoms for himself and his caprices.

One day, in the joyous milieu of a festival, kings and chiefs who had come from far and near gathering in the city arena to a filled capacity would not let the day go without some laugh; so, for the love of mirth, they requested a non-A-list arguer pitch against the sagely Ṣàárẹ́ in a current affairs duel.

The stint soon began, as usual, the day was preening Sàárẹ́ in noble tunes and the whole kingdoms were singing his praises while, in uncanny derision, were hysterically laughing in rejection of his opponent.

And there came the last question which, in the rules of the game, is the ultimate and the sole determinant question which would cap the winner’s glory and abase the other.

The moderator soon panned a look on Sàárẹ́ with a doting smile and asked him—with all effusions of honour—to give an exact description of a tiger as the last question.

The whole arena laughed out loud in contempt of the question as well as in assured admiration of Sàárẹ́’s versatility.

A thick wisp of dust rustled as Sàárẹ́ rose to his all-loved feet and a deafening quietude bedimmed as he poised to deconstruct the question to the prize.

He, in the language of the nation, gracefully and assuredly said:
Ẹkùn tó fín tàpá tàpá!

The entire people of the kingdoms rose and applauded him with resounding claps.

As each clatter of claps paled to the next, he rose again, and the audience, as though commuted to a graveyard, went silent again. And he graciously said:
Ẹkùn tó fín tùpú tùpú!

The kings, the chiefs and their entire retinues, rose to their feet again to chant his appraisals.

The commoners, amidst the swaying dust, jumped over themselves in admiration of Sàárẹ́, even at the glaring disparity of the class treats, they were so entertained.

So Sàárẹ́, lost in a defined avarice of adulation, rose again and said in the highest pitch of his voice:
Ẹkùn a bi òwo ṣààrà ṣaara!

Then, the audience, in the eeriest mood of disappointment, collapsed their enchanting appraisals. They hissed and booed Sàárẹ́ in exudation of his newly found rejection. They prised Sàárẹ́’s glory open, demystified his essence and reduced him a commoner.

They crowned with his opponent all they took from him.

Sàárẹ́ was deserted.

And led by the kings, the audience filed homeward, retorting: àmọ̀jù ẹkùn ló b’ẹkùn Ṣàárẹ́ jẹ́!

It’s unfortunate Chief Sunday Igboho, like the folkloric Sàárẹ́, is not rebuffing or jilting the accouterments of adulation to be more diligent and courteous in words and acts. He, so much unfortunate and saddening, is unaware of his swift dash to the path of the proverbial Sàárẹ́!

The earlier chief Sunday Igboho retracts his flippant remarks and understands that, a warrior without restraints, diligence and courtesy is one assuredly and fatally sold to immolation and irrefutable perdition, the better it is for him to undo the plagues of the woes of the proverbial Sàárẹ́ he, in words and acts, is setting after himself!

I so wish Mr Igboho find reasons in abating his recently awry direction of activism and cease comporting himself so ingloriously!

Adebayo is a liberal citizen whose love for journalism is unending. He lives and writes from Osun state.

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