The drama did not start in Aso Rock. It started in a television studio with bright lights, innocent questions, and one microphone that had no respect for political survival.
Honourable Wale Edun sat calmly, adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and did the most dangerous thing in Nigerian politics: he told the truth without checking the memo.
The anchor smiled.
“Sir, Nigerians want to know, did this administration meet its revenue target?”
Wale smiled too. The smile of a man who had balanced spreadsheets all night and forgotten he was supposed to balance narratives.
“Well,” he began, confidently, “we didn’t even reach half of it due to so so so and so…”
Somewhere in Aso Rock, a tea cup froze mid-air. A cough turned into panic. A media aide fainted spiritually.
“HALF?!” someone screamed inside the Presidency Media Room.
“But we’ve been shouting ‘SURPASSED TARGET’ since January!”
Phones started ringing like church bells during deliverance.
In another corner, the Propaganda Committee — seasoned veterans of Lagos IGR mathematics — stared at the TV in silence. These were men who could turn potholes into profits and debt into dividends. But today, their General had fallen.
Old age had betrayed Wale Edun. Not by memory loss of numbers — no — but by forgetting the most important rule: never expose the magician while the show is ongoing.
He spoke like an accountant.
Tinubu expected him to speak like a politician.
By evening, the retaliation arrived quietly. No shouting. No press statement. Just a neat memo.
“Effective immediately, key revenue and tax sectors under the control of the CBN have been reassigned to another ministry.”
Demoted without the dignity of a demotion.
Sacked without the ceremony of disgrace.
Wale read the memo twice.
“So this is how Judas felt,” he whispered.
The next morning, the Presidency went back to television.
“Our revenue performance has exceeded expectations,” the spokesperson announced boldly.
Exceeded whose expectations? Nobody asked.
Behind closed doors, Tinubu shook his head slowly.
“This one forgot he’s not in Lagos anymore,” he muttered.
“At the federal level, truth must first pass through strategy.”
Wale Edun learned the hard way:
In this government, facts are optional, but loyalty to propaganda is compulsory.
And somewhere in Nigeria, citizens laughed bitterly, because the funniest jokes are the ones that sound exactly like the news.
Sam Adeoye
END
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