All roads — whether tarred or pothole-filled — lead to the royal compound of Shomolu, where the one and only Joseph Edgar, dreadlocked warrior of satire and prophet of afang soup, celebrates another year of loud laughter and louder writing.
The Duke is many things — ex-banker, theatre producer, loud columnist, afang ambassador, parfait expert, tiger nut prophet, and full-time storyteller. If you sit near him long enough, he’ll tell you five stories before your food arrives, and halfway through each one, you’ll hear his classic line:
“Do you get?”
Whether you get or not, you must nod. That’s the rule.
Now let’s not pretend: the man is generous to a fault. During rehearsals, he’s been known to buy a whole tray of groundnut and banana, not for himself, but just to see his crew and seller smile. He does these things quietly, like someone raised well but trying to hide it behind dreadlocks and sarcasm.
And then every birthday, instead of planning a big party, the Duke sends a message asking us to donate to widows. This year, he’s raising ₦5 million for 20 of them. Who does that? Only the Duke.
Now, a small birthday warning: today, please don’t yab the new coalition of confused politicians trying to “eject” the current president. We know you’re itching to drag them by their agbada, but today, just rest. Take a break.
Because we remember what happened the last time you talked “too much” — Grandpa B whisked you to Ekiti cool off, and if you’re not careful, they’ll send you to Adiabo Esighi in Calabar South, where there’s no network and no tiger nut. You’ll be stranded with a spoon and no parfait.
So today, eat your afang in peace. Smile at the camera. Skip the politics. Enjoy your day.
Because, my dear Duke…
It’s your turn to chop the beating.
Toye 🎉👊🏽