In the grand theatre of Nigerian absurdity, some scripts never get retired they just get fresh costumes and updated props.
Back in the day, the military decided Fela Anikulapo-Kuti’s Kalakuta Republic needed a housewarming visit. Soldiers stormed in, beat Fela like a rented drum, and assaulted his mother, the legendary Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti. Mama didn’t survive the “hospitality.” When questions were asked because even in military Nigeria, optics sometimes mattered the official government enquiry delivered a masterpiece of bureaucratic poetry: the soldiers were “unknown.”
Fela, never one to let villains hide behind grammar, responded with the immortal track “Unknown Soldier.” The song didn’t just roast them; it turned their cowardice into a national anthem of ridicule. Because nothing says “professional armed forces” like a battalion of ghosts with batons.
Fast forward decades later, and the Nigerian genius for “unknown” things has evolved. We have graduated from unknown soldiers to unknown government councils with unknown bank accounts.
The Office of the Accountant-General of the Federation recently stepped forward with a straight face to announce that the Presidential Foreign Intervention Promotion Council (PFIPC), yes, that sounds like something cooked up after three bottles of ogogoro and a thesaurus has no operational account with the Central Bank of Nigeria. No account. No funds received. Just vibes. Maybe the council exists in spiritual form only. Perhaps its chairman is currently operating from the same metaphysical plane as those unknown soldiers of 1977.
You have to admire the consistency.
Unknown soldiers beat your mother to death? “We don’t know them.”
A whole Presidential Council with a fancy name is allegedly moving money for “foreign intervention promotion”? “Account? What account? We are also surprised o.”
At this point, Nigeria isn’t being governed. It is being trolled by its own institutions in 4K.
The beauty of it all is how these unknown entities keep multiplying like mosquitoes during rainy season. Unknown soldiers became unknown policemen, unknown policemen became unknown bandits, unknown bandits became unknown terrorists, and now unknown councils have joined the WhatsApp group. Soon we’ll have unknown ministers, unknown budgets, and unknown elections. The only thing that remains known is the suffering of the people, that one is always very well documented.
Fela must be somewhere in the ancestral realm, shaking his head and laughing at the same time. The man warned us. He turned state violence and official nonsense into funky, danceable truth. And here we are, still dancing to the same old tune, only now with better PowerPoint presentations and press releases that say absolutely nothing.
Unknown soldiers.
Unknown councils.
Unknown accounts.
My people, na unknown government be dat.
And until we stop accepting “unknown” as a valid official position, the remix will continue. New cast, same nonsense. Pass the agbo, Fela, the show is still running.
Centre for Nigeria Progress 