In a development so predictable it could have been written by a hack scriptwriter with a grudge against plot twists, retired Nigerian General Aliyu Gusau and his wife have been abducted in the restive North-West region. The general, a man whose career spanned coups, counter-coups, and the gentle art of looking stern in uniform, was snatched from his home in Zamfara State. The UK, ever the helpful nanny, has responded with its customary blend of limp-wristed caution and useless travel advisories: 'Avoid non-essential travel to the north-west, unless you fancy being a hostage for a ransom negotiation.' One can almost hear the gin and tonics being poured in Whitehall.
Let us dissect this theatre of the absurd. A retired general, no less, a man who presumably has a small army of ex-soldiers as neighbours and a security detail that would make a minor dictator blush, gets lifted from his own gaff. It is a masterclass in the failure of the Nigerian state, a tapestry woven with the thread of incompetence and the sequins of corruption. The bandits, who are presumably unionised by now, operate with impunity because the authorities are either complicit, underfunded, or busy taking selfies with their own guns. Meanwhile, the UK advises caution. Oh, how we chuckle from our armchairs, our fingers hovering over the 'donate to charity' button while polishing our monocles.
But the real satire is in the reaction. The British Foreign Office, that temple of understatement and bureaucratic inertia, has 'expressed concern' and 'called for his safe release.' This is the same script used for every kidnapping, every atrocity, every time a diplomat's cat goes missing. 'We urge all parties to exercise restraint.' Restraint? The only thing being restrained is the urge to laugh at the sheer futility of it all. General Gusau, a man who once ran Nigeria's entire security apparatus, is now a bargaining chip for some teenage bandit with a rusty AK-47 and a grudge against the world's architecture.
The abduction itself is a farce. It took place in the general's hometown, a place where one assumes the neighbours would notice a convoy of armed men tootling past. But no, the bandits operate like a mobile version of 'Casualty', grabbing whoever they fancy. The wife, a woman who probably just wanted to watch her afternoon soap operas, is now a prop in a drama she never auditioned for. The ransom demand: likely a sum that could pay off a chunk of the national debt, if not for the fact that it will be pocketed by middlemen who have a graduate degree in graft.
What is the endgame? In any sane world, the Nigerian military would mobilise, hunt down the miscreants, and parade them in chains. But this is Nigeria, where the military spends more time protecting politicians' palaces than rescuing retired generals. The UK's advice is a cruel joke: 'Maintain a low profile.' Why not advise them to stay indoors and hire a private army? Oh wait, they already have one.
As we raise our glasses to the plight of the Gusaus, let us remember that the world is run by clowns with clipboards. The general will either be ransomed by the state, which will claim it was a 'security operation', or he will escape after paying his own way out, humiliated and poorer. The wife will likely become a symbol of resilience, interviewed on CNN about the trauma of sleeping on a mud floor. And the UK will continue to advise caution, all while selling arms to the very countries where these kidnappings happen.
So here is to you, General Gusau. May you be freed. May your captors develop a sudden interest in Sudoku. And may the British Foreign Office one day find a new phrase, something like 'We are doing absolutely nothing, but please clap.' Cheers, old boy.
