In a move that has sent shivers of delight down the spines of gin-sodden hacks everywhere, Nigeria has formally demanded compensation from South Africa for the mistreatment of its citizens in the Rainbow Nation. This, as Britain's new Foreign Secretary, a man whose face resembles a startled ferret, waddles in to 'strengthen Commonwealth ties'. Huzzah. Huzzah and thrice huzzah. Civilisation is saved.
Let us parse this magnificent folly. Nigeria, a nation whose oil revenues are rivalled only by its capacity for bureaucratic chaos, wants 'reparations' for the alleged bullying of its nationals in Johannesburg. South Africa, a country that treats its own citizens with the tender affection of a hungover bouncer, has predictably told them to take a running jump into the Indian Ocean.
And into this fray steps Britain. The UK, a nation that couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery if the beer was free and the landlord was asleep. Our new Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, a man whose previous greatest achievement was finding a matching pair of socks, has been dispatched to 'mediate'. One imagines him sitting between two glowering diplomats, offering them cups of weak tea and suggesting they 'talk it over like gentlemen'. The sheer, breathtaking absurdity of it makes one reach for the Gordon's.
Let us examine the 'compensation' demand. Nigeria wants £2 billion. For what, exactly? For the 'pain and suffering' of its diaspora. A diaspora that, let's be frank, is mostly made up of chaps selling you 'genuine Rolexes' outside tube stations and ladies accused of being 'aggressive' in church car parks. The Nigerian government, which has lost more money to its own kleptocrats than most countries have in their entire GDP, suddenly has a moral spine. It is a beautiful, horrible thing.
And South Africa? Oh, South Africa is playing the victim card with all the subtlety of a rhino in a china shop. They say the demand is 'baseless' and 'typical Nigerian whining'. This from a country where the government has responded to a collapsing power grid by telling citizens to 'cook with candles'. The nerve. The colossal, breathtaking nerve.
Into this quagmire steps British 'mediation'. One pictures the scene: a conference room in a posh London hotel, the air thick with the smell of cigars and hypocrisy. The Nigerian delegate, a man whose gold wristwatch cost more than a small African village, argues for compensation. The South African delegate, a woman whose pearls are maybe real, accuses him of 'economic blackmail'. And in the middle sits our British diplomat, a man whose trousers are slightly too short, murmuring 'Let's not be hasty' while furiously texting his wife about what to buy for dinner.
The proposed solution? A 'joint commission' to 'promote trade and cultural exchange'. In other words, nothing will happen. Absolutely nothing. The two nations will continue to squabble, Britain will pat itself on the back for a job well done, and the Commonwealth will stagger on like a zombie with its leg half eaten off.
And yet, and yet. There is a twisted logic to it all. Compensation is the new oil. Everyone wants it. Reparations for slavery. Reparations for colonialism. Reparations for bad driving. It's the great global grift. And Nigeria, bless its cotton socks, has realised that the best way to get a slice of the pie is to look aggrieved and point fingers. It's genius. It's terrible. It's absolutely, utterly human.
So raise a glass to the empire of the absurd. To Nigeria, for having the brass balls to ask for money. To South Africa, for having the gall to refuse. And to Britain, for providing the stage upon which this magnificent farce can play out. Long may the circus continue. The gin is getting low.
