Column | The Prisoner of Batasutu

By Saul Saidykhan

The Great Nfali Kebeh, the Most Benevolent, The Highest, The Bravest, The Mightiest, The Richest Leader in History, The Supreme Leader, The Irreplaceable Guardian of the Nation, The Architect of Invisible Miracles, and The Champion of Unique Development, sat in his eerily quiet cavernous mansion in Batasutu near the confluence of a large tropical river and the Atlantic somewhere in Africa, gazing morosely at some old portraits of himself.

Some show him in military regalia, and some in elegant Warambo of different colors before he finally settled on enamel white based on the advice of his spiritual guru.

Though the house is spacious and beautiful aesthetically, and its high-walled compound adequate for his gardening hobby needs, he has recognized his abode for what it is: a prison – however gilded! He cannot come and go as he pleases.

Occasionally, even the loud snap of a tree branch makes him jump.

The ghosts of his past won’t let him sleep peacefully.

Once, he was often draped in gold medals for different contrived reasons – unmatched valor, Patriotism, meteoric acquisition of stupendous wealth, commissioning of minor public works projects awarded through inflated no-bid infrastructure contracts, with the nation’s heartbeat always pulsing at his command, and a bevy of nubile beauties always jostling for his attention nearby. Nowadays, his only subjects are a lone indifferent security guard, a Garden Boy who hums in a strange language while ignoring his comments or monologues, and a housekeeper who has mastered the art of ignoring his passes and suggestive looks even when he tries to speak her language in halting twangs.

His trophy partner who used to only leave his side for shopping trips to exclusive boutiques in trendy western cities now only stops by for short stays once a year, and their conjugal interactions are usually fleeting and more out of pity than spousal duty. Only two of the dozen bedrooms in the mansion are occupied.

Nfali Kebeh had unapologetically lived a life of unimaginable opulence for two decades at the expense of his miserably poor people. He had owned a fleet of expensive cars, private jets, mansions, farms, companies, real estate, rubbed shoulders with the high and mighty on the global stage, thrown lavish parties with Africa’s most beautiful women doting on him, and delivered countless speeches which in his mind showcased his extraordinary brilliance and indispensability not only to his country, but to Africa as a whole. The people had adored and revered him as the continent’s savior or so he believed.

But gratitude, as Nfali Kebeh has learnt is a fickle thing. One week, they were bestowing grandiose titles and honorifics on him; the next, they were shuffling him onto a plane with a one-way ticket to exile. The betrayal sill stings. Even worse, the very people who claimed to love him – to be unbale to live without him have the audacity to move on. It kills him to watch on TV and YouTube the men and women who used to get on all fours competing for his attention now doing the same for his successor who rarely acknowledges his existence.

And the media that used to sing his praises peppered with the recitation of his long superlative titles have now relegated him to being an example of the “Cautionary Tale of How Arrogance and Greed Destroys Rulers” stories.

Even his once-loyal ministers and closest aides now pretend they had been reformists who disapproved of his misgovernance all along. But Nfali Kebeh refuses to be forgotten.

He must remain relevant at least in the subconscious of the ingrates that fed off him and led him astray only to hop on the new gravy train after the sunset of his reign.
Once a year, he breaks his self-imposed silence with a message to his supporters, the only True Patriots of his country, a broadcast he treats with the same gravity as the countless capricious Executive Orders he used to issue weekly dismissing and or appointing senior public and security officials.

“You the god-fearing genuine Patriots of our beloved homeland,” he always begins, his voice heavy with barely contained rage. (Like with everything else, Nfali believes he has a unique relationship with God.) “I hear your cries. I see your suffering. Under my leadership, our country was a nirvana, a bastion of peace, development, democracy, and a beacon of prosperity! Today, it is in shambles! But do not despair.

I WILL RETURN to complete the developments I was busy with before unpatriotic enemies of progress and their foreign allies betrayed us! Our enemies will pay for their betrayal and unpatriotism.” It’s never clear if Nfali is more upset by his loss of power and its concomitant appendages, or at the betrayal of the many confidantes who turned their backs on him.

His few remaining loyalists would dutifully flood social media to buttress his messages, rationalize his indefensible maximum rule, or call for his return to office mostly out of primordial sentiments, or nostalgia for the days when his corruption and nepotism had given them and their community undue advantage over others.

Meanwhile, to pacify Nfali’s supporters, his successor conveniently ignores his messages, as he is himself busy enjoying the same UNEARNED perks of power that Nfali Kebeh had once monopolized.
Still, Nfali Kebeh waits. He knows that history has a way of repeating itself. And if there is one thing his decades in power has taught him, it is that in an environment where ignorance, bigotry, zero-sum competition, or carelessness thrives, cunning buffoons and brutes sometimes find their way back to power to do more damage than in their first coming.

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The author is a renowned writer and financial professional.

Publish Data: 07/02/2025