In a development that has sent shivers down the spines of the chattering classes and prompted an outpouring of sternly worded memoranda from Whitehall, a retired Nigerian general has shuffled off this mortal coil while in the clutches of his kidnappers. The deceased, a man whose name I shall not utter lest I incur the wrath of the Nigerian Defence Ministry’s autocorrect function, was reportedly seized at gunpoint three weeks ago. His captors, a gaggle of chaps with more ammunition than a Gerry Anderson supermarionation episode, demanded a ransom that would make Croesus blush. Sadly, the general expired before a deal could be struck, possibly from boredom at the lack of progress in negotiations.
Naturally, His Majesty’s Government is beside itself with outrage. Foreign Office mandarins have been spotted weeping into their Earl Grey, clutching copies of the Magna Carta, and muttering about the decline of civilisation. A spokesman, whose tie was so tightly knotted it could double as a tourniquet, declared: “We are appalled at this flagrant disregard for diplomatic conventions and the Geneva Conventions, especially Article 42, subsection 3, which clearly states that retired generals must not be kidnapped on a Tuesday.” The British consulate in Lagos has reportedly run out of gin, prompting a full-scale crisis meeting chaired by a man named Algernon who smells faintly of mothballs and regret.
Meanwhile, in a parallel universe where common sense prevails, the general’s family is no doubt wondering why the ransom wasn’t paid. But who are we to question the fiscal prudence of a nation that once successfully negotiated the return of a football team from a coup? The kidnappers, identified only as the “Glorious Liberation Front for the Restoration of Ancient Grievances,” have issued a statement denying all responsibility, claiming the general “expired due to pre-existing conditions exacerbated by the shock of seeing our exquisite choice of camouflage patterns.”
This tragicomic farce serves as yet another reminder that, in the grand theatre of global affairs, the British government’s role is to wring its hands, issue strongly worded communiqués, and ensure a steady supply of tonic water to its diplomatic outposts. As for the general, may he rest in peace. And may his kidnappers find better taste in interior decoration. Over and out.
