mazi abe’s corner: Quest For The Golden Grail: Silverspoon vs Omo’rogun

One came into the world with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. The other needed a sharp crack of the local midwife’s omo’rogun to elicit the first baby cry ; he was that stubborn.

While the nurses and doctors fawned over Silverspoon, warmly wrapped in fluffy blankets of the London Hospital, a naked Omo’rogun was vigorously tossed in the air and passed around the toothless, grinning old women, who had converged in the mud hut by the outskirts of a village in Osun. And so began the odyssey in the life of Silverpoon and Omo’rogun.

It is the stuff of fairytale stories that offspring from such diverse backgrounds will one day become heroes to be worshipped by their people and peers, feted by kings, presidents and prime ministers.

For Omo’rogun, the road to such life achievements is replete with rocky steps and prickly thorns. He literally had to fight his way to the top. Trawling the back streets of Isálè Eko, hustling to sell faeces to the fishermen of eti òsá, Omo’rogun would watch from afar as the the big presidential cars drove in and out of the igá of the Oba of Lagos.

“One day I will drive in there and the Oba will come out to shake my hand”, he promised himself, as he ran after the little rogue who had just snatched his bag of fresh igbé he had collected earlier to sell.

Thousands of marine miles away, across the Atlantic Ocean from where poor Omo’rogun stood plotting his dream royal handshake, Silverspoon was holding on to the tail coats of Daddy as they stood in line, waiting to shake the hands of her Royal Majesty the Queen. For one, the Royal handshake was a dream. For the other, shaking the hands of Royalty had become a birthright.

Their destinies seemed a far cry from each other . But they both shared the same ambition ; a quest for the ultimate prize ; The Holy Grail. So they became adversaries in a crusade to reach the pinnacle of Aso Rock. Even when fate has intervened to cage both of them within the wooden box of a tribunal court room, their eyes have remained steadily fixed on the prize, shame bouncing off their starched agbadas like hot oil in a non-stick frying pan. Therefore, when Tinubu and Saraki began to…………..

 😎 To be continued next week.

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