Wike’s Bullet-Proof Chariot — By John Mayaki
In a whimsical twist of fate, behold Nyesom Wike, the Federal Capital Territory Minister, upon a stage of media frenzy, endeavoring to unshroud a mirthful fabrication that had swept through both the digital realm and the halls of traditional news. A narrative, laden with gold and glimmer, dared to proffer that his official carriage bore the weighty price tag of N300 million and boasted the wondrous charm of impenetrable armor.
Upon an illustrious day in Abuja, Wike, erstwhile the Governor of Rivers State, stood forth before a congregation of scribes, his visage a wondrous tableau of bewilderment and chagrin. With the cadence of a seasoned orator, he undertook the restoration of veracity, disentangling the twisted tendrils of misinformation that had woven their dance of deception.
His voice, oscillating betwixt incredulity and jocund jest, chided the denizens of the virtual agora, whose fervid imaginations had, in their pursuit of narrative embellishment, cast his official chariot as a magnificent steed of princely proportion.
But hear him, “I have ne’er sanctioned such extravagance, contrary to the mirthful tale,” he declared, his utterances a sonnet sung by a troubadour of farce.
In a gesture as grand as a Shakespearian soliloquy, Wike extended his hand with gravity, pointing toward a chariot nestled close by. The chariot in question, by design or fate, was rumored to be his extravagant ride. And then, in a twist both comedic and fantastical, he summoned forth the reporters, daring them to strike the chariot in a veritable trial of strength, as if engaging in a merry joust with this wondrous beast. “Strike thy hand there and ascertain if it be of enchanted make,” he jestingly dared, causing one to envision a parade of journalists lining up for a dance of hearty claps with his reputedly magical automaton.
Yet, the pièce de résistance, the pinnacle of comedy, came when Wike beseeched the scribes, beseeching them to attend to truths rather than weaving webs of self-destructive fancy. “We must recount veritable chronicles and eschew self-inflicted wounds. Look upon yon chariot, and proclaim whether it possesses the aura of invincibility,” he entreated, his words a page torn from the tomes of a whimsical bard.
Thus, a tale unfolds wherein a statesman plays the role of a merry mythbuster, providing thespian merriment upon a stage laden with sensational sagas and fabled narratives. In this merry farce, truth prevails – Nyesom Wike hath no such extravagant ride. Mere fake news!
