The Madness of the Fuji King, by Ugoji Egbujo

When I was growing up, The Madness of Didi was my favorite book title. I carelessly applied it to both the sane and the insane. Every outburst of irrationality was the madness of Didi.

In Obi Egbuna’s The Madness of Didi, Didi spends 30 years in England, enduring racism and oppression. After killing six policemen, he is imprisoned and deported to his Nigerian village. Wounded by racism, alienation, imprisonment, and failure, Didi returns to teach in a village school. He resists local structures of oppression and inspires the youth to challenge every trace of authoritarianism. Didi doesn’t just take refuge in idealism and cynicism; he confronts every shadow of colonialism. The task is daunting. Didi succumbs to the corrupt system and dies, but the fire he lit burns. A legacy of resistance.

A few days ago, I was forced to recall that my childhood refrain. KWAM 1 arrived at the Abuja Airport with swag and a golden flask in hand. He breezed through checks, collecting accolades. An Oba. A popular musician. A friend of the presiden. The world was at his feet. On board the Lagos-bound plane, he was accosted. Aviation authorities insisted he couldn’t fly with the liquid in his flask. To cure their insolence, the prince spilled the alcohol on the plebeians. After all, this was Abuja, not London. The crew’s defiance was worse than rudeness. It was subversion. The stubborn crew refused to yield to the big man’s intimidation. KWAM 1 escalated it into a stand off , proclaimed his imperial status and refused to let the plane fly. The pilot shut the doors and the engines roared. The die was cast.

KWAM 1 refused to budge. He must have made one or two calls. The plane started to taxi. KWAM 1 stood in front of it—agidi of the highest order. The pilot lost her temper and pushed through, as if KWAM 1 were about to take the plane hostage, making a clearance from air traffic control unnecessary. Had God slumbered, the story would have been different. With the big bird surging to flatten him and his ego, KWAM 1 ducked. He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day. The pilot was madder than a hatter. Much madder than KWAM 1 reckoned. A female pilot, perhaps believing her authority was trampled because she is a woman. Shakespeare hinted at it: is there greater fury than a woman scorned? For where kwanu? KWAM 1 and his crown bit the dust. He was lucky he didn’t kick the bucket in the process.

Like Oshiomhole, KWAM 1 rushed to the press, claiming victimhood. A badly concocted tale that ignored the presence of phone cameras and the democratization of journalistic instincts in the age of social media. A story that might have flown in the ’70s. Like Oshiomhole, KWAM 1 said the airline had apologized and offered a more comfortable flight, which he rejected. It’s hard to ascertain if this cheap pattern of mendacity stems from being a big man in Nigeria or the overzealousness of image makers. KWAM 1 claimed the flask contained only water, perhaps he could have said ‘holy water’. He dismissed the incident as a storm in a teacup, blown out of proportion by the airline. Perhaps a crew seeking vengeance against celebrity privilege. But he said nothing about impeding the aircraft from taxiing. Perhaps he’ll dispute the authenticity of the video recordings.

If KWAM 1 were an ordinary fellow, airport security would have manhandled him a little bit before the doors closed. Policemen would have rushed to the scene, swooped on their prey, and feasted on him. If he dared prolong his arrest, he could have faced terrorism charges. Between arrest and charges, he would have gone bankrupt pleading for leniency. But KWAM 1 is no ordinary fellow. He is the Oluomo of Lagos, a name that strikes fear, even without the prefix MC. Oluomo is now synonymous with brigandage. Perhaps that informed the diffident approach of airport security, who seemed like nannies coddling a spoilt child, begging him not to throw pebbles at God till he wears his helmet. KWAM 1 is also the Mayegun of Yorubaland, the Olori Omooba Akile Ijebu, and, most crucially, the Chief Musician to the president, a friend of the Asiwaju, his Akanbi.

Unfortunately for KWAM 1, news can no longer be killed. The incident went viral on social media. The nation was alarmed. A ValueJet plane running through standing persons like a danfo evading an agbero at Oshodi. Details soon surfaced. Regulators had no wiggle room. They saved Oshiomhole when he locked an airport by feigning deafness and dumbness .But KWAM 1’s iskanci happened on the tarmac; the pilot’s reckless action made it beyond a family affair. International observers abd regulators will worry about aviation safety.

The pilot and co-pilot were swiftly suspended—an easy decision. The pilot needs anger management classes. But what of KWAM 1, the Fuji maestro, the friend of the president? In a regime where the president’s allies are not just sacred cows but golden geese, aviation regulators slapped KWAM 1 with a six-month no-fly ban. That churned the stomach of a nauseated public. The Minister of Aviation lamented KWAM 1’s rascality, perhaps to defuse growing tension over perceived institutional impotence. But he lacked the courage to nudge the police. However, moved by a tsunami of public condemnation, the dithering aviation authorities later asked the Attorney General to charge KWAM 1. Why not ask the police to charge him for obstructing a moving aircraft? It’s a misdemeanor, punishable by two years in jail. To charge him swiftly at a court in Lugbe to deter the blooming menace of unruliness at our airports. I guess they wrung their hands and handed the big man to his friend to avoid a backlash from above. Holding a plane hostage borders on terrorism. But the authorities know they must tread carefully. In a banana republic there are many banana peels. Critics believe the case will be buried by the Attorney General, who loves prosecuting peaceful protesters and cant set an example with a friend of the president.

Aviation safety, celebrity privilege, and institutional accountability are on the table, under scrutiny. The madness of Didi mirrors the madness of EndSARS youths, born of chronic deprivation and resentment against oppression. A madness of idealism. The madness of KWAM 1 is the madness of entitlement. The overflow of pomposity. KWAM 1’s madness stems from impunity, fueled by presidential nepotism and cronyism in a poor country ruled by a deity who uses the law to fan his ego. The fire KWAM 1 lit may yet burn. Didi’s was a fire of inspiration. KWAM 1’s stokes the anger of masses whose dream of a great nation is fading fast.

Three days after the incident, the amiable and influential KWAM 1 tendered a vague apology. Many will clap for him. The nation worships big men and is rager to forgive them of their trespasses. We are sentimental about apologies . Three days after claiming victimhood, Kwan 1 has manufactured an apology to fool the public and dodge consequences. The problem of privilege, power, and institutional cowardice cannot be better exemplified. The law is truly an ass.
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