To phone or not to phone?

It was brought by civil society activists, my orderly had said. You know civil society people are busy bodies; they poke their noses into other people’s business. Who asked them to bring to me Barmu Dakatsalle’s phone number? What they are saying is that I should phone him and concede. As if I don’t have […]

It was brought by civil society activists, my orderly had said. You know civil society people are busy bodies; they poke their noses into other people’s business. Who asked them to bring to me Barmu Dakatsalle’s phone number? What they are saying is that I should phone him and concede. As if I don’t have his number. Barmu used to come to my office when I was still in service, looking for small small contracts. I have dozens of his business cards with me. Anytime he lost his phone, which was often, he would come to my office to give me his number and say “Please Alhaji, this is my new number in case the contract is ready. I lost the other phone at the mosque yesterday and I could not find the SIM pack to do welcome back, so I just bought a new SIM card.” These civil society people don’t even know that, so they are bringing his number to me.
Six of my top campaign aides soon arrived. Alhaji Gohe, Maikahon Karo, Tsinin Kusa, Anbuga Anbarka, Mai Karanshap and Alhaji Illo Mutum Dubu all filed in silently as if someone has died. They were not their normal boisterous selves, as they had been throughout the campaign when they used to come in cheerfully, laughing and exchanging banters. Even Maikaho, the most boisterous and most self confident of them all, was looking subdued today. No doubt it is the work of the election result.
I did not even allow them to sit down properly when I handed to Alhaji Gohe the piece of paper with the phone number. ‘What is this?” he asked. I said, “Barmu’s phone number. Some civil society activists brought it, that I should phone him and concede.” Maikaho had just sat down in a chair but on hearing what I said he sprang up again. “Phone Barmu and concede?” he shouted. “Never! We will never phone him, betrayer like him! Who told them he is going to be the governor? Just wait until we finish with him at the tribunal!”
 I quietly asked, “Should we go to the tribunal? That will open another difficult chapter which I am not sure I have the energy to pursue. After three days in hospital I am still very weak. I came down those stairs with difficulty. Can I even withstand a court case?” All my campaign aides were agitated by the question and they began to speak all at once but Alhaji Gohe asked them to calm down. Then he said, “If it is about going to tribunal, we must go to tribunal. It is only the man who has already gone to the tribunal that will arrive there before us. If we don’t go to the tribunal, all our effort will be in vain and all our supporters will migrate to Barmu’s house. Our entire youth wing and women’s wing members, what will they stay and do if you phone him and concede? Before you know it all of them will migrate to Barmu’s camp. But at least if we tell them that we are going to the tribunal and we reassure them we will retrieve Alhaji’s mandate at the tribunal then they will all stay with us and will support us throughout the election petition. By the time the ruling is delivered, even if we don’t win it is too late for them to decamp to GSL. Even though I am sure we are going to win.”
Alhaji Gohe’s position excited all my other aides and they were saying, “Yes!” “Exactly” and “Very good!” as he spoke. Maikaho stood up, pulled out his cigarette and puffed a lot of smoke before he said, “Alhaji, we have already done all the arrangements for going to the tribunal. When we saw that you were sick and there was no time to waste we went and got a SAN. He is a Yoruba man; they are the ones that know this kind of thing very well. We also hear that the chairman of the election tribunal for Tafki State is a Yoruba man, so we need a lawyer who can speak to him in his own language. He has already mentioned his bill but we are negotiating with him to reduce it.”
At that point my phone rang. It was the Galadiman Tafki, Alhaji Musa Basullube. He said they just finished a meeting of the Tafki Council of Elders. That they spoke to ESEP’s defeated candidate Goshin Bauna and he agreed to concede to Barmu, that he has already made the phone call. Now they want me to also concede; that my own is even more important because I was the one who finished second in the election. He added that they had already told the emir of what they were doing and he blessed their effort and said it is necessary in order to bring peace to Tafki State. Halfway through the phone call, when my aides began to get wind of what was being discussed, Maikaho signalled to me to put the phone on speakerphone which I did. As the conversation as winding down Maikaho stood up, walked over to me and collected the phone. He said, “Galadima, this is Maikahon Karo. How much did Barmu give you and the so-called elders’ council to come and tell Alhaji to phone Barmu and concede? You, do you know Barmu very well? Do you know he is a cheat and a liar who never repays debt? Is that the person you are saying Alhaji should concede to?”
We later realised that Galadima cut the phone connection and did not hear everything that Maikaho said. I said, “Haba Maikaho, why did you speak to Galadima like that?” But Maikaho was unrepentant. He said, “Alhaji, you don’t know Galadima like I know him. He is a dubious man. He is pretending to be an elder statesman. Do you know that Galadima’s youngest wife was brought up in the same house as the sister-in-law of Barmu’s younger brother?”