A parliament of owls, by Mahmud Jega
The Englishman [or the Empire of Englishmen] who sat down and coined weird collective nouns for groups of animals, did they have Nigeria in mind? Were they helped in the task by a Junker of Germans, a vineyard of Frenchmen, a mob of Italians or a samurai of Japanese?
Think of the collective noun a parliament of owls. Englishmen who coined it had the Nigerian National Assembly in mind. The large eyes of owls which resemble an MP’s eyesight for money, owls’ nocturnal habits which resemble rubber stamping of executive bills, their ability to rotate their heads in all directions which resembles defecting from one party to another, their flying silently in the night to grab prey with sharp talons which resembles budget padding, and their shrieking in the night which resembles constituency projects, all point to English mischief in coining this collective noun.
The collective noun glaring of cats describes Nigerian State Houses of Assembly. They glare helplessly while executives trample on budgets, sidestep financial rules and personalise treasuries, much like cats that only glare and mew. The collective noun lamentation of swans reminds me of Nigerian trade unions. They are constantly lamenting about minimum wage, cost of living, industrial safety, check off dues, length of maternity leave and arrest of union leaders. The collective noun thunder of hippos was coined by Englishmen to refer to ASUU, which is forever agitating for higher salaries, earned academic allowances, “adequate funding of universities,” university autonomy, appointment of Vice Chancellors and salary for work not done during long strikes under the dubious clause called “non-victimisation.”
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Englishmen had the Nigerian Presidency in mind when they coined the collective noun a tower of giraffes. Its long neck surveys the whole scene for more taxes, increased oil production, more money from non-oil exports, having a firm grip on funds through Treasury Single Account and IPPIS, harvesting more money by ending subsidy and floating the naira, cajoling Central Bank to print more money under ways and means, and borrowing money from every available foreign source, to be paid for by generations yet unborn.
The collective noun a cauldron of hawks was meant to describe state Government Houses. Contractors, consultants, politicians, civil servants, clerics, traditional rulers, babalawos and assorted thugs swamp them, a sign of the concentration of power that has become steadily elaborated in Nigeria since the military era.
No appointment letter, no voucher, no contract documents and no land allocation is of any effect until it comes from the Government House, which is infested with circulating hawks.
When the Englishman invented the collective noun a bank of Komodo dragons, he had Nigerian bankers in mind. Komodo dragons are the most voracious and the most merciless of eaters; they run down a goat or a calf and eat it alive. Nigerian bankers run down a customer’s meagre savings and eat it alive, by charging for every debit or credit alert, account maintenance fee, stamp duty and many hidden charges. They empty their ATMs, then charge a customer extra sums for withdrawals from ATMs of other banks. Try borrowing money from a Nigerian bank; by the time they calculate the compound interest, you would wish that you are being chased by a Komodo dragon.
The collective noun implausibility of gnus was meant to describe Nigerian civil servants. Someone once said that civil service bureaucracy is stultifying. It is inscrutable, bewildering, puzzling, and beguiling. And it is the root of corruption; citizens resort to bribery in order to get around the rigmarole bureaucracy of the civil service.
What did the Englishman mean by the collective noun a convocation of eagles? Is it only universities that hold convocations to award degrees and diplomas, many of them undeserved, especially the honorary ones? He had Nigerian politicians in mind. Nothing is more vigilant in the sky than an eagle, and nothing is more vigilant near a sub-treasury than a Nigerian politician.
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A politician’s eye for a juicy contract is as sharp as an eagle’s eye for prey. From 100 meters up, an eagle can spot the slightest movement of a mouse, and from several thousand kilometres away, a politician can spot the smell of a juicy contract.
Nigerian bandits were the target of the collective noun a murder of crows. Which murder does a crow make when compared to a Nigerian bandit, who storms villages and towns, blocks highways, raids schools, ambushes farmers at their farms, chases fishermen through rivers and creeks, storms shops and makes away with victims, including women and children, only to demand for ransom payments in staggering amounts, which bankrupts whole families and clans? Their soul mates, Nigerian kidnappers, are the objects of the collective noun a prowl of jaguars. They are forever on the prowl for persons to seize. Informants feed them with information that a city-based well to do person is about to visit home, and if they cannot get him, they will make do with even the poorest person, whose family must sell his farm in order to raise ransom.
A tribe of antelopes. I was wondering; was that meant to describe the geopolitical groups Afenifere, Ohanaeze Ndigbo, Arewa Consultative Forum, Middle Belt Forum, Ijaw National Congress and Southern Leaders Consultative Forum, groups not envisaged by the constitution but which have usurped some of the roles of constitutional agencies? Nearly 50 years ago, this country did away with the mention of “tribe” in the national anthem but two years ago, without any public debate, the Presidency smuggled it back, which the National Assembly speedily rubber stamped, sorry, ratified. It said though tribe and tongue may differ, in brotherhood we stand, but the geopolitical groups are bent on thwarting that promise, much like a tribe of wildebeest running helter skelter during their annual migration.
The collective noun a mess of iguanas best describes Nigerian political parties, eighteen registered ones with, at the last count, one hundred and ten others waiting to be registered. Some of these were once registered, they failed to clinch a single assembly seat anywhere and, in accordance with the Electoral Act, were deregistered, only to attempt a return as briefcase political parties.
The Englishmen did not stop there, but went ahead to coin more collective nouns in order to describe specific Nigerian political parties of this day. The relevant one for All Progressives Congress [APC] is an obstinacy of buffaloes. Just as APC resembles PDP, buffaloes resemble domestic cattle but woe unto anyone who confuses a buffalo for a cow. A friend of mine once visited the Abuja National Park and told me that he saw some prized cattle “from Argentina” that are surrounded by strong iron fences and deep trenches. Cattle? I said you better run; those are buffaloes!
A coalition of cheetahs was coined by Englishmen to describe APC’s most vibrant competitor on the political scene right now, i.e. All Democratic Congress, ADC. Cheetah is the fastest land animal, and ADC chieftains are the fleetest of Nigerian politicians. Some of them have been in up to four political parties in the past year alone, while many of them are simultaneously members of two or more political parties, a Nigerian first which is about to enter the Guiness Book of Records.
On the other hand, the collective noun a consortium of octopi was meant for PDP, the former ruling party, with eight hands planted in every pie. The collective noun a waddling of ducks best describes Labour Party, which waddles on the political scene with at least two heads, one of them attached to APC while the other gravitates towards ADC.
Kwankwwasiyya movement and its appendage political party, NNPP, was the target of the collective noun a murmuration of starlings. Very dazzling, when starlings are conducting a synchronized flight, but its ultimate aim is not known, just like the Kwankwasiyya leader lambasting the Presidency soon after a closed-door meeting, and his top aide saying it is him who will decide which party to move to.
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With many Nigerians saying they are befuddled by INEC’s BVAS, the sudden collapse of iREV during the 2023 presidential elections and long delay in registering new political parties, Englishmen coined the collective noun implausibility of gnus to describe the institution. This gloomy looking antelope looks on askance at a hunter, just as INEC watches parties dissolve in chaos, with some people seizing control of them and not allowing their secretaries to sign letters convening their NEC meetings.
SIECs are the aim of the collective noun a conspiracy of lemurs. All 36 SIECs return a clean sweep for the party that governs the state in local government elections, irrespective of party, region or geopolitical zone. Central Bank of Nigeria must be the cohort of zebras that Englishmen were thinking of. Like a zebra’s stripes, it says the naira is appreciating when it is actually bumpy; it says naira is free floating when it spends billions of dollars to shore it up; and CBN says governments are awash in money even when it is helping them to shop for foreign loans.
The Supreme Court must be the target of the collective noun a court of kangaroos.
It delivered judgements that left Rivers State Government, PDP National Working Committee and Labour Party more confused than ever. For nearly six months the Supreme Court has refused to take up a suit to determine the constitutionality of sacking elected state governors and MPs under a state of emergency.
Nigeria Police must be the target of the collective noun a thunder of hippos. It is a bewildering sight when several dozen hippos splash into the Orange River, just as bewildering when Nigerian Mobile Policemen are marching in rehearsal for putting down a strike or to protect a local musician in whom the ruling powers are well pleased.
The collective noun a bicycle of bees must have been directed at Nigerian journalists, who are ever looking for someone to sting but without the honey bee’s sweet honey. The collective noun intrusion of cockroaches was designed for Nigerian street beggars, while the collective noun a memory of elephants `refers to Nigerian social media activists.
To construct some more weird collective nouns, the Englishmen need further help from a pyramid of Egyptians, a great wall of Chinese, a nuke of North Koreans, a tariff of Americans and a genocide of Israelis.
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