By Rudolf Okonkwo
Look, I know Pius Adesanmi is gone. Wada Nas, too. I suspect Olatunji Dare, Ndaeyọ Uko, Tunde Asaju, and J.K. Randle have quietly retired. But there’s no way—absolutely no way—I am the last satirist standing in Nigeria’s media space. God forbid bad thing!
So imagine my surprise when people started forwarding Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan’s “satirical apology” to Senator Godswill Akpabio to my inbox, each one asking: “Did you write this?” Some even tagged me on Facebook with side-eye emojis and captions like “ihula gi?” and “zukwanu ike.” I nearly screamed.
Some did not think Mike Asukwo could have dropped his drawing pencil to ghostwrite satire. Or maybe they believe Okey Bakassi has not finished marinating his body in a bitter leaf concoction and consulting Eze Nwanyi about his ancestral throne—and found the time to write jokes. Why me? Please, be serious.
Let me say this once and for all: I did not write Natasha’s terrible satire. I reject it in Jesus’ name. Who born me? I dey craze?
Why is it hard to believe that Natasha—a lawyer o—could write that catastrophe all by herself? This is the same woman who gave the most inspiring speech the National Assembly has ever witnessed—reviving Ajaokuta, industrializing Nigeria, and reawakening our hopes. Give me a break! Writing bad satire should be child’s play if she can deliver that post-TED Talk to a hall full of budget-padding honorable and disbarred senators. Na warm-up!
Once upon a time—before I gave my feather quill pen and inkpot to Indaboski, before TikTok swallowed our attention spans—I used to write world-class satire. That was back when Nigerians had an appetite for essays longer than their Twitter update. But now, everyone’s stomach is full of Tinubu indomie and Akpabio sachet—hand-delivered by Onanuga and Omokri like holy tokens and prayers. No space for satire again. So, I retired quietly. Ask Adeola Fayehun; she even gave me a gold-plated wristwatch. True story.
And please—why on Earth would I write a satire about Godswill Akpabio of all people? This man just returned from the Vatican. During the trip, he knocked on heaven’s gate and entered before Bianca – so much for ladies first. Angel Gabriel even opened the book for him, and he saw “not guilty” written all over the pages. Instantly, he transformed into a holy politician of God! Me? Satirize an anointed #3 vessel of Nigeria? I may be a knucklehead, but I dey fear people who have heaven’s gold card. I’m not ready to turn to a pillar of salt like Lot’s wife.
Let us respect greatness. Akpabio is an unparalleled truckload of national treasure. He is the shining supernova in Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s Milky Way of hope and hardship. He embodies all that is pure, progressive, and… pardon me, I’m choking on weed-flavored incense that followed Akpabio back from Pope Francis’s funeral.
Tell me—how many of our leaders truly understand that poverty is not a crime? Only Akpabio. He declared it boldly. The late Pope Francis (God rest his soul… again) was so moved that he almost canonized him live on NTA, if not for Wi-Fi issues. Akpabio returned home and told Nigerians to “love one another.” Immediately, Nyesom Wike hugged Simi Fubara, and they buried the crude coffin—and possibly half of the Rivers State 2026 budget, too.
If not for the minor detail that Akpabio has shaken hands with more women than the College of Cardinals allow for a man who aspires to be Pope, I would have personally nominated him for an emergency priesthood-to-Bishop ordination in 60 seconds.
After all, the chapel in his home in Akwa Ibom is ready for the slaughtering of the devil. The conclave is waiting for a wise man like that to emerge as a surprise African candidate.
Did you hear his interview on NTA? My God. With holy spirits hovering over his head like flying antennas, he told Nigerians to “share what they have.” To lead by example, he immediately handed over all his mansions up and down Nigeria’s big cities to the homeless and gave his convoy of expensive cars to jobless graduates to drive Uber in Ikot Ekpene. If that’s not sainthood, what is?
This is a man who bears the sacred title of GCON. And as we all know, any title with both “grand” and “con” commands reverence and immunity. The man is untouchable. Even EFCC knows to respect itself, despite the heaps of petitions at its desk.
Now, let’s talk credentials. His biography reads like the Miracle of Fatima book. Raised by a single mother, Akpabio went to Federal Government College, Port Harcourt, and emerged as Senior Prefect—proof that destiny, like ripe corn, can never hide. At UniCal, he was the Speaker of the Student Union parliament. To this day, his mesmerized classmates still greet him with a curved middle finger. Out of love, of course.
Akpabio’s climb was nothing short of a celestial electric elevator jump from law practice to politics. He joined Paul Usoro & Co. and dazzled the courts with briefs law students study to this day. He became commissioner over not one, not two, but three ministries in Akwa Ibom. Nigerians may not know this, but Akpabio managed Akwa Ibom ministries the way Jonathan managed fuel scarcity, and Buhari managed Ways and Means lonsfron the CBN: with prayer, grit, and minor raptures.
In 2007, Akpabio beat 57 aspirants to become governor. He ruled Akwa Ibom with such divine excellence that even potholes in Uyo, Eket, and Oron relocated voluntarily to Otuoke in Bayelsa State. He was re-elected in 2011 in a landslide worthy of a prince of Zamunda. Then, in 2015, he joined the Senate. The INEC returning officer who announced his victory later faced trial and was convicted for rigging Akpabio in as senator. But who cares? Let bygones be bygones.
He became Senate Minority Leader, then defected to APC in 2018, and rose like Agege bread baked with excess yeast. In 2019, he humbled himself to serve as the Minister of Niger Delta Affairs. When lawmakers tried to question him, as their oversight duties, the moment he opened his mouth, they mysteriously “offed the mic.” Who born dem?
In 2022, after receiving that woman’s cherubim and seraphim-induced slap, he resigned to run for president. On primary night, he stepped down for Tinubu—another miracle on Zuma Rock! By the next morning, he had somehow become a Senate candidate in his state without going through any primary- an immaculate conception of some sort, if you ask me. By June 2023, he was elected the 15th Senate President. That’s not politics. That’s Pentecost Regained.
Pastor Jerry Eze says, “What God cannot do does not exist.” What satire cannot touch must be worshipped.
So, to all of you forwarding that Natasha nonsense satire and tagging me like I am nkita Uke in Eke Uke market —please count me out, or I’ll tell my therapist about you.
I did not write it. I have never written it. I will never write it. Let Natasha carry her cross—and maybe next time, she’ll leave satire to professionals like us.
Damaged souls, be delivered. The world revolves around honorable men like Akpabio, not all you silly people incapable of eating agbado while whistling simultaneously.
Rudolf Ogoo Okonkwo teaches Post-Colonial African History, Afrodiasporic Literature, and African Folktales at the School of Visual Arts in New York City. He is also the host of Dr. Damages Show. His books include “This American Life Sef” and “Children of a Retired God.” among others. His upcoming book is called “Why I’m Disappointed in Jesus.”
