Literature

The Honourable Minister (short story)

As the drama group of the Federal Government College, Jawan, got set for its performance, the audience became increasingly restive, eager for the spotlight to beam on the stage. Everyone was bursting to watch the drama not just because of its title, "A Day in the Life of the Minister", which stood out among the other titles in the competition, the school was well known for its excellent performances. The important personalities on the high table were not left out in the excitement. The Guest of Honour, the Honourable Minister of Information, was particularly anxious. He couldn?t wait to see himself mirrored in the creative ingenuity of these intelligent youths reputed for dramatic excellence.

The group had never come second in any competition. It was therefore the expectation of all that even in this special contest organised by the First Lady of the state to mark the nation?s independence anniversary it would prove its mettle. The school principal was quite sure of this, for the English teacher, the brain behind the group?s consistent achievements, was a winner any day. That was why when he went to her office a week ago to brief her on the play she simply gave him a go-ahead without even bothering to know the title.

"Mr. John, just go ahead," she had said. "Do what you deem neceassary."

Mr. John was, no doubt, one to be trusted. His sense of judgment was quite exceptional. But like most artists, he was also full of crazy ideas. And this play was a product of one of such ideas?an experimentation of what he called Real-drama, a kind of drama in which actors are expected to act as naturally as possible. To achieve this effect, he merely gave the actors the title of the play and a rough idea of the story line, leaving the details to their own imagination and initiative. So even he himself was a stranger to the drama that was about to unfold.

As the audience?s attention gouged through the dark stage, a sudden violent scream went off somewhere offstage, throwing everyone off-balance.

"WuuuooOH! WuuuUUOOOOH! WUUUOOOOOOOH!"

A powerful spotlight flooded the stage, revealing the actors (the Minister and his entourage) just in time to prevent a general stampede. Even the security personnel were taken aback. Before they dashed to the protection of the dignitaries, the First Lady had jumped into the arms of the nearest person?the Information Minister!

"Ha-ha-ha!" the Minister and his entourage laughed boisterously from the stage.

"Who says to be a minister is a small thing," the Minister enthused, trembling with laughter.

"The siren really scared the hell out of them," said one of the members of the entourage.

"Why not!" exclaimed the Minister, looking towards the high table. "What is a masquerade without the mask? Without thunder and lightning, how can the mortal appreciate what goes into rain-making? Ha-ha-ha..!"

"But, sir, your detractors may describe it as an act of terrorism, this siren..." his Permanent Secretary began.

But another member of the entourage cut him short:

"And why should that bother the Honourable Minister!"

"Tell him!" said the Minister in agreement. "It is his types that are agitating for a ban on the use of siren..."

"Your detractors will never see the light of day, sir..." the Permanent Secretary apologised.

"What is power without a screaming siren?" the Minister fumed.

"There is no power, sir!" the Permanent Secretary concurred, completely apologetic.

The light faded out. And a moment later another light spilled over the stage, revealing the Minister at home; then at the office; at a function; at another function; at yet another function... Inaugurating a committee on the National Poverty Eradication Programme, a committee on the National Re-orientation Agency, a panel of inquiry to investigate the misappropriation of 2 billion Naira meant for the federal civil service pensioners...

At every scene, which flowed sequentially into the next scene with gradual changes in the lighting to reflect times of the day, the Minister displayed incredible ministerial antics, attracting intermittent ovation from the audience.

The high table was becoming more tense as the play progressed. The principal, in particular, was not finding it funny. Cold drops of sweat were trickling down behind her ears.

Mr. John was confused; he did not know whether to feel embarrassed or elated by the wonderful performance. He glanced at the principal to see how she was taking it. But the fire in her eyes was eloquent enough to discourage him from taking a second glance.

The last scene in the drama was a press briefing by the Minister. He began by reading the speech presented at the occasion by the Information Minister, which read in part: "Children are the leaders of tomorrow, they must therefore learn from the present leaders. They must respect elders and constituted authorities... As for the achievements of this government, a lot has been done. Today alone I have inaugurated over ten committees. And I?m scheduled to inaugurate more tomorrow. We have also provided boreholes, increased the capacity of our electricity supply, increased workers? salaries despite the risk of inflation, made it possible for everyone to have access to mobile phones..."

When it came to the question and answer session, almost all the questions were based on the contents of the speech. At the tail end of the session, three of the journalists posed what their colleagues agreed were the most relevant questions.

"Honourable, you mentioned the National Poverty Eradication Programme and the Global System for Mobile Communications as your achievements. How have these impacted on the life of the common man of this country?"

The Minister lowered his dark spectacles, scratched his forehead, glanced at the Permanent Secreatary, and spat:

"I?m sure you were not among the journalists who participated in the media tour." And to the Permanent Secretary, he added; "He would have seen things for himself; wouldn?t he?"

"Sure," said the Permanent Secretary, "he would have seen the unprecedented achievements in these areas... Next question, please... Yes, you over there..."

"Sir, this lingering industrial crisis between the Academic Staff Union of Universities and..."

"The issue has been addressed!" snapped the Permanent Secretary. "Next question please. And this should be the last question. Yes, you..., no... You in faded jeans..."

"The National Electric Power Authority..."

"What about it?" asked the Minister. He was visibly running out of patience.

"The epileptic supply of electricity..."

"Mr. man, if you don?t know, you are now hearing it from me, the Minister of Information, that NEPA is no longer NEPA, but Power Holding Company of Nigeria, PHCN! And it is now re-positioned to..." The entire hall went blank?solid darkness!

By the time PHCN restored power about thirty minutes later, the gathering had dispersed.

THE END.

(c) I wrote this story in 2002 to reflect the kind of govt. public relations that flourished in Nigeria at the time.

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