The air is brimming with the usual gaiety characteristic of a festive town: Just slightly intense this time around because the joy is pervasive.
Tailors are hurriedly putting finishing touches to late orders. Boutiques have been stripped off every trace of white clothing. Event planners are putting finishing touches to their preparations. Musicians are on set tuning their equipment, security operative on alert at designated locations. The jostle for the limited invitation cards continue. For the first time in the history of Bayelsa State, over 90% of residents are happy with the choice of Governor: A modest, humble, down-to-earth man pulsating the heartbeat of the people.
Chief David Lyon just finished a dress rehearsal at the Samson Siasia Sport Complex, venue of the Inauguration. He is back at his Igbogene residence amidst thronging well-wishers, friends and political associates.
Meanwhile, at Toru-Orua, the atmosphere is pensive. Dickson had returned to a disquieted town in preparation for a long retirement from politics and governance. A few individuals from his retinue of bootlicker lingered, perhaps unsure of what next to do. Most of his men had fled Yenagoa, to more auspicious environments.
Otueke appears peaceful. One man is reclined in a sofa, phone in hand. He appears unflustered, but his motives are sinister and destructive. A nation is about to witness the unveiling of another Machiavelli.
A drama is unfolding in distant Abuja. A panel of Judges are about to make a pronouncement that would leave the nations perplexed and throw Bayelsans into a state of shock. The judgement is pronounced. It’s a unanimous decision of an irreversible order. David Lyon seized to be Governor Elect. Donye Diri would be sworn-in as Governor.
The news began to filter in. A slumbering nation is caught in the web of a disastrous conspiracy. The celebration in Yenagoa and environs is halted. “what happened?” the questions of the innocent and pure-hearted.
Meanwhile, in Abuja, caught by the sudden twist, a few persons are also in a state of shock. They had surrendered to the dominant mandate. “This was too good to be true,” they muttered. They moved swiftly into action.
In Toru-Orua, a maniac rose from his cushion in absolute shock. “I didn’t do this”, “how did this happen” he spoke silently in his heart.
In Otueke, a smirk spread on Geoduck’s lips:
“I won them again like I did in 2015.”
“Bayelsans are losers. “How do they expect me to be subject to Sylva and this uneducated Lyon?”
“I can’t lose control over my State even if it must cost the joy and development of Bayelsans.”
Blinded by his selfish ambition, he raved silently like a maniac. Content with the results of his Judicial manipulation, he swung his glass of whisky in silent celebration to his victory: a disaster to Bayelsa State.
Meanwhile, upstairs, in the same house, Mama Peace cursed and screamed. “This is wickedness, impossible. This cannot happen. There is God o.!
The streets of Yenagoa are suddenly ablaze with protesters chanting war songs, “we no go gree o, we no go gree…” Its David Lyon or no one else. Arsonists torched, supporters went violent, but all to no avail. The deed had been done.
While innocent Bayelsans rested in the assurance of a victory secured on the altars of a free, fair and violent free election, one man, whom Bayelsans thought to be a kinsman, an elder statesman, one whose political ineptitude had caused Bayelsans harrowing pains over the years, one whom Bayelsans thought could now bear with the feelings of their infirmities after an agonizing 8 years of horror, had again upturned their corporate mandate and ruined their joy.
Who is this man, Goodluck Ebele Jonathan? Is he a Bayelsans or a foreigner, a friend or a foe? Is he a curse or a blessing? How could a man entrusted with this height of responsibility be so roguish? How could one man appear so harmless, outwardly, yet inwardly callous? How could a man whom the whole world thinks humbly be so desperately selfish, wicked and incredibly ambitious?
Does the man Goodluck really know what Bayelsans have been through in the last eight years? Is he just content with satisfying his lust for political control at the expense of the wellbeing of his people? How could Bayelsans continue to harbor a snake in their midst and yet call him a hero?
Douye Diri has just been sworn-in as Governor. He scurries to Otueke. Goodluck waits with open hands to embrace him. Mama Peace is conspicuously missing. There is no celebration typical of such meetings, just the air of shame, treachery and uncertainty. Bayelsans just witnessed the unveiling of an evil genius.
It’s not over yet. The people are still praying. God still answers prayers.