By Tony Afejuku

On Friday, June 26, 2026, this composer travelled from a distant and not distant land to his city of Warri, his Waffi, land of lands and city of cities whose twin is Sapele, Safi, another fabulous land of lands (another) city of cities. In our boyish imaginations in the nineteen fifties and nineteen sixties these two significantly significant coastal lands were the only two “Papa’s lands” in our dear, dear country. Simply stated, they constituted our paradise. There were fantastic tales about Lagos – Lasgidi, Eko; Lokoja; Port Harcourt – Pitakwa; Ibadan; Jos; K.C. – Kano City; Osha – Onitsha; Calabar; and nearby Benin City, but none compared with our twin cities of cities!

After a pretty long time that was not a pretty long time I was going home, to the homeland of new turmoil – by road – despite my promise to my good self never ever to embark on any journey on our dreadful roads to any town or city in this country – their country your country my country our country. Of course, we all must understand why I poured water on my vow when I journeyed to and from Warri on the – afore-said Friday, June 26 and Monday, June 29, 2026: The fear of bandits is the beginning of the new wisdom in President Bola Tinubu’s Nigeria! To be abducted or kidnapped in the Nigeria of the PON, in the Nigeria of the current President of Nigeria, is to accept an un-willing and inevitable, and eternal farewell to our lovely country that bandits and kidnappers are absolutely turning into a place, into a haven, of monstrosities.

Sooner than later, those of us who have the gift of creative words and who are lucky to avoid the clutches of the dare-devils that our Abuja lords cannot tame and bring to book, will absolutely begin to speak of “Nigerian Bandit Literature”. They will soon begin to create what the glitterer is calling now “Nigerian Bandit Literature” – that is, “Banditry, kidnap-for-ransom Literature”. As the glitterer is composing this composition the subject of mass abductions is deeply penetrating his creative consciousness, guiding his thoughts relating to how he should speak about and document with nacreous, beautiful words and sentences, akin to Wole Soyinka’s or Romanus Egudu’s or Olu Obafemi’s, trauma, geography, and state capitulation in the country now.

When the vehicle taking the glitterer to Warri got to areas projected as actual geographical flashpoints on the Benin-Warri Highway where bandits or kidnappers allegedly operate, his heart knew no fear. Instead his imagination was aglow with the desire to create and design, at the same time, a poetic and realistic cartography of banditry. The glitterer gave sincere thought to this up to the time he entered Warri. And in Warri the pace of his thought created further room for reflection when he remembered a friend of his in Zaria. He is a Professor of Fine Arts at the Ahmadu Bello University. In three years’ time the system will speak to him to retire voluntarily. He is ready to welcome the speech.

But how is he ready to visit the years ahead?

In a telephone conversation with him, Professor Jerry Buhari intimidated the composer as follows:
“My village is called Akwaya, Kachia LGA, Kaduna State. The village has been sacked by kidnappers and bandits – along with other neighbouring villages. I have no village to return to in three years’ time. I built my retirement home there. A very artistic house in my serene village which I cannot settle in at the behest of my people who don’t want me to be captured like a chicken. They don’t have the money to pay for a professor’s freedom. Where will a Professor’s ransom come from?”

Professor’s Jerry Buhari’s pathetic case was a pathetic case indeed. The last time he visited Akwaya, he meant to have a well deserved rest of at least three weeks. But barely after two days he heard a disquieting middle-of-the-night knock on his door – which was disquieting indeed to this mind.

When he opened the door despite his severe worry and anxious thoughts, he beheld two physically well-endowed youths. He knew them handsomely. They pleaded with him to return to Zaria at the break of day. Bandits had taken over the land. They did not enter his house. They disappeared into the disquieting night after making their short plea. Jerry disappeared from Akwaya before the first drops of dew fell. He has never returned there since that time – two long years ago. And his retirement years are hurrying near!

When Jerry spoke to the narrator and authorised him to tell the story, what we perceived – both palpably and impalpably – was/is nothing short of a new wave of bandit literature now berthing in Nigeria’s cultural landscape. What the glitterer is saying, in other words, is that Jerry’s testimony is a perfect illustration of an emerging, new genre in Nigeria called “Bandit Literature”. There are other more than numerous examples to cite.

But a simple but huge question that must be asked is this: Are the acts of banditry witnessed in several parts of the land not inspired and systematically programmed by corporate bandits? Are they not syndicated acts of banditry? Our poets, novelists, playwrights, essayists, literary journalists and columnists must pay heed to these questions – as they investigate and investigate and write and write and create and create what they present to the audience – investigating, writing and creating to reveal their truths to the audience – with this rider in their creative consciousness: “When villagers see scholars begging and thieves riding horses, children begin to question the narrow path to wisdom”.

It’s time to create flowers earnestly, emitting pearls of wisdom about our current circumstances in the land.

Afejuku can be reached via: 08055213059.