Prof. Niyi Osundare

 

 

              Part One                                      

I have a name that ends in ‘madu’

I’m a shameless player of the second fiddle

Yes, I have a name that ends in ‘Madu’

I’m a shameless player of the second fiddle

When the Senate King usurps the boat

He grabs the power and I the paddle

 

I row and row and row and row

With all the muscle in my menial arms

Yes, I row and row and row

With all the muscle in my menial arms

A boat full-loaded with scam and scum

And the rest of a clique that hurts and harms

 

 

The King holds the sword and I the sheath 

He calls the shot and I come up short

Say, the King holds the sword and I the sheath

He calls the shot and I come up short

He slays valiant Honour with a practiced stroke

With me in tow, extolling the sport

 

 

The King tells his lies and I nod and nod

His noodle-nodder and sidekick supreme

Say, the King tells his lies and I nod and nod 

His noodle-nodder and sidekick supreme

I see no evil and hear none at all

When he pushes his treachery to the wild extreme

 

 

The King’s own slave is the king of slaves**

Better a second fiddle than no fiddle at all

Hear? The King’s own slave is the king of slaves

Better a second fiddle than no fiddle at all

Bend and bow your way to the wanted prize 

Adjust your height if your boss is tall

 

 

 

 

 

            Part Two 

 

Deputy several seasons, a stark, subordinate star

The second fiddle spawns my loudest music

Say, Deputy countless seasons, a stark, subordinate star

The second fiddle fathers my priciest music

Crooked calculation undid my vaunted height

I crawl to my quarry under the lowest bar

 

 

If I did it for Mark for six sluggish seasons

Why not for John and Andrew, Abu and Abba?

Asking, if I did it for Mark for six sluggish seasons

Why not for John and Andrew, Abu and Abba?

Who bows bags in this land of crawling men

Where the best wait and wither in gateless prisons

 

 

Loyal like a leech, addicted to broken vows

I grabbed my spoils from a stolen mandate

Say, loyal like a leech, addicted to broken vows

I grabbed my spoils from a stolen mandate

In this land of moral cripples

Truth and Honour have fled the national estate

 

 

Deputy, venal Deputy, and second-best for evermore,

I’m everything that’s vice in my equally afflicted boss  

Deputy, venal Deputy, and second-best for evermore,

I’m everything that is vice in my equally afflicted boss

Whatever gain accrues from our backroom deals

Totals up, always, to the nation’s loss  

 

 

Some call me cad, some call me crook

Some say I am a shameless eater of left-over 

See, some call me cad, some call me crook

Some say I am a shameless eater of left-over

Better a second fiddler than no fiddler at all

My sense of shame lives in a pot with a leaden cover 

 

*A poignant remark by Akin Oyebode in a recent internet exchange

 

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