Otunba Bayo held his flowing agbada tightly to himself as he maneuvered through the puddles of muddy water at Jabi camp. His PA cringed as the chief missed a step and dipped his crocodile-skin designer shoes into one of the puddle. He nearly stepped on a mound of poop as he tried to avoid two kids running around with sticks playing soldier VS Boko Haram game. The one playing Boko Haram surrendered when the one playing soldier wielded his heavy wooden machine gun to his face
‘Make arrangements for more clothing and food, ensure it is delivered before this week runs out’ Otunba spat as he took one last look at the makeshift IDP camp.
‘The condition of this camp is unfit for human in habitation’
‘It was in the news that the government had fixed this place sir and…’
Otunba paused in his steps and said in a conniving tone ‘you still believe in the media and the lies they spin with the government? Don’t be a fool my friend.’
The PA kept quiet, he had felt so uncomfortable surrounded with stench and filth. He was astonished to see people going about their business oblivious to the decay around them, he almost vomited when he saw a scrawny looking baby with brown hair picking what looked like cockroach on the floor and putting it in it mouth. Surprisingly, the Otunba seemed at home with the filth, he went from one shed to another, carrying his folds of agbada and charisma with him, his powerful voice boomed as he greeted the sick, old and wounded who couldn’t come outside to receive the gifts he had brought. He effortlessly relates with the crowd of kids milling around him. Otunba waved him away when he tried to stop one of the kids from touching his agbada, she looked like she’d stain the impeccable white outfit with her dirty hands.
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