By Ose Oyamendan
When I was in grammar school, we had this senior who wanted to be a playboy. But, he was just a boy who had no clue how to play. He used to stalk girls at least two classes below his and when it was time to “toast”, he brought the mustard. According to the girls, his closing line was always, “is it a yes or no?”Britain reminded me of my old senior all of last week. I could feel the pain from Westminster to the Buckingham palace. Who knew that the decision of folks whose grown men wore skirts and blasted eardrum busting bagpipes will send the old world order into a meltdown.
I was so engrossed in the coverage of the secession bid even my young son noticed. He asked what it all meant to secede and I replied, “It’s like the Valley voting not to be part of Los Angeles”. The poor boy almost threw his breakfast at the television, screaming, “The Valley is part of LA! Oh, my God! When did that happen?”I felt for the Prime Minister, David Cameron. It would have been an historical disaster for him if Scotland had managed to secede. Imagine, every time someone researches Scotland, Cameron would have been an addendum, as in “The man who lost Scotland”. And, it would have been there from 10 Downing Street till eternity. Yikes!
You could argue that he won’t feel that pain a few decades from now. After all he would be dead. But, what about on Friday morning when the results are announced? What would he have told his kids at the breakfast table? “Hey, mates – I lost bloody Scotland?” The kids would have probably shot him that “you-must-be-a-dumb daddy” look that kids shoot their parents sometimes. And, just to rub it in, they may ask, “What do you mean you lost Scotland? Where is it? In the pub? Hanging out with some sheep?
Cameron would have probably got over it the day after the next election if what would have been left of Britain decides to give him the boot. But, what about the man who nobody can vote out? The man some call the world’s oldest trainee or as the royal folks call him, the Duke of Edinburgh. Imagine what would have happened if Scotland had bailed. Prince Charles may have been stripped of Edinburgh too. Now, he won’t have to worry about his mother just hanging on and on, he would have had to fight Prince William for his title.
In a very ironic, laundry twist, I had worn a union jack T-shirt last Thursday morning as they were voting in Scotland. A few people thought I was in solidarity with the British.
Thoughts that I was supporting a union stunned me. This was after all Hollywood. Marriages mean less than divorces here. I’ve been to weddings where we wagered on how long the marriage would last, and the groom was part of the wager too. Why would I mourn the end of a union, especially one where one of the male partners wore skirts! As my childhood love who broke my heart in about twelve pieces before proceeding to stomp on them in her pawned high-heeled shoes would have hissed, “Oritshe!”
And, these guys probably forgot I am a Nigerian. Or, they forgot how I came to be Nigerian. The forefathers of these guys begging to stay together basically came and told my forefathers that henceforth they and other strangers would be in a geographical entity called Nigeria. When my forefathers protested that they needed a courtship period before the marriage, their forefathers basically said, “Deal with it”.
I would never wish evil on somebody else but my forefathers would have frowned if they knew I was wishing well on the same folks who gave them headache and continue to give us headache. I had fun watching the former colonialists and their children sweat a little. You knew the Scots were going nowhere anyway. This was real life, a life where it’s all about the pounds and some sense. It wasn’t the Mel Gibson movie, Braveheart where he screamed, “you can take our lives but you can’t take our freedom”. Freedom? Please! Give me some pounds.
Knowing Nigeria, you know if Scotland had been able to secede, the next few days, weeks and months would have been dominated by this – if Scotland can do it, why can’t we? It would grow when the presidential primaries and elections come around and the losing candidates would suddenly realize their lot would be better if they split the country into pieces. And, they will have a point. Until they stop having a point when the winning candidate gift-wraps them some contracts and oil concessions. Then, they will remember Nigeria is an act of God.
Nigeria’s problem is not the country called Nigeria. Nigeria’s problem is Nigerians, not the people but the leadership. We’ve been royally cursed with greedy, self-serving leaders who represent their pockets. In trying to divide us, they bring up tribe and religion and we fall for it. Give Nigerians jobs, roads, security, education and health care and see if they care what language they speak. Or, as the Scots will say, “it’s all about the pounds, baby!”
Ose Oyamendan, a Hollywood film maker and writer, tweets @iam_ose
