“Alhaji,” I said as I entered the living room to meet him, “you came out very early today. I hope there is no problem.” “No,” he said. “No problem at all but I came early so as to have a word with you before Maikahon Karo arrives.” I sat down, sensing trouble. “Something happened?” “No,” Alhaji Gohe said. “I was just thinking last night. You have already been to many local governments and you have visited most of the important politicians in this state but I have not heard you mention Alhaji Musa Kutunku. Or have you visited him?”
Alhaji Gohe found his answer from the grimace on my face, so he continued, “That is why I want to talk to you. I can see that you hate any mention of Kutunku’s name, all because of what Maikaho must have told you about him. Still, we must reach out to that man. The damage that he can do to our effort is not small. Even if we cannot get him to support us, we should at least stop him from coming down heavily against us. Let us go to his house today.”
I was very reluctant to go to Kutunku’s house. Maikaho told me many things about him, some of which I also heard from other people. He is the dirtiest politician in Tafki State. He is illiterate; he is uncouth; he is ugly; he is greedy; he is wicked and he is vengeful. But he is the party treasurer; he is married to the Governor’s favourite younger sister and his eldest son is married to the party chairman’s daughter. Kutunku boasts in public that he is protected on all sides like a tortoise, that you cannot crush him from the top and you cannot pierce him from underneath, all because of his marital connections.
Four of us arrived at Kutunku’s house on Friday evening. Right from the gate you can see how disorganised Kutunku is. The flower bed in front of his house is overgrown with weeds. His visitors have parked their cars on both sides of the road and have created a traffic snarl for those who must pass in front of his house to get to their own houses. An unserviceable tractor has been parked in front of his house for years. Kutunku is also adding another wing to his house and the workmen are making bricks right on the road, blocking half of it with sand and mixed cement.
Alhaji Gohe was in front. I was following closely behind while Maikaho and Tsinin Kusa walked a few steps behind me. Party thugs were going in and out of the house; we had to push past them until we arrived at the courtyard. There we found Kutunku sprawled on a huge mat with large cotton puffs all around him. At least 20 other people sat on mats and made a ring around him. He even has his own court jester who was making expensive jokes to entertain Kutunku and his guests.
Kutunku sat up when he saw us, saying, “Gohe, did you miss your way? I am sure Alhaji did not know you were coming to my house, otherwise he will not come with you!” Imagine that expensive welcome joke. When we reached Kutunku, Alhaji Gohe quickly sank onto the mat but I remained standing, looking around for a chair to sit on. Maikaho rushed forward and said, “Kutunku, send for a chair for Alhaji to sit down. You don’t expect him to sit on the ground!” Alhaji Gohe however pulled my gown and said, “It’s alright! It’s alright! We will sit on the mat. This was how the companions of the Holy Prophet used to sit, on mats and camel hides before the foolish Europeans brought chairs!”
Kutunku sat up briefly to shake our hands, then he sprawled on the mat again. “A’arh”, he was saying, “the whole His Excellency in my house today! I am sure it is going to rain!” His court jester quickly took over. “They lost their way!” he said. “Gohe is used to losing his way! Even the farm that he has been farming for many years, he cannot take himself there. It is only his donkey that can find the farm and Gohe will follow him!” All the men around burst out laughing.
Imagine that kind of joke! We sat there for half an hour, absorbing many barbs from Kutunku’s court jester. Kutunku was also running party accounts right there in the open. One of his aides crawled up to him and said, “Ranka ya dade, the three officials Party Chairman said should go to Abuja for a meeting, they are asking for money to travel.” Kutunku said, “Tell Accountant to give them the money, then on Monday we can do the voucher.” Imagine, give money first and do the voucher later!
When we signaled our intention to leave, Kutunku struggled to his feet. He has a protruding belly and a bad leg, and he sometimes leans on a cane. He however did what he rarely does to people, that is he saw us off to the gate. Right there at the gate he said, “Alhaji, you application for a waiver to be able to contest the primary election is in my car’s glove compartment.” He pointed at his old model Mercedes 500, the one people used to call Shagarinka. “His Excellency asked me whether you deserve to be given a waiver, and I said I will check the contribution you have made to the party. I have checked; even though you have not contributed a lot of money you have brought more respect and more people to the party, so we will give you a waiver.”
I was still smarting when we got to my house. Before we even sat down I turned to Alhaji Gohe and said, “Why did you take us to the house of that illiterate? Imagine, he made me to sit down on the floor!” “Cool down Alhaji, cool down,” Gohe said. “Can’t you see the big thing we achieved? Kutunku is the one who decides who will get a waiver. You heard him say that you will get a waiver. I think going to his house was worth our while.” “But I had to sit on the floor!” I said. “Squatting before that fool Kutunku!”
At that point Maikahon Karo, who hardly spoke today, finally spoke. “Alhaji,” he said, “Alhaji Gohe is right. We achieved something. Bending down to greet a dwarf does not mean you cannot straighten up with your normal height.”