Big Brother’s guinea fowls (3) By Olatunji Ololade

Big Brother’s guinea fowls (3)

• Crusted corpses in DSTV/Multichoice’s garden of dirt

Anto is a ‘grown ass woman’ who has ‘f..ked a lot of niggas.’ But ‘no one should take this personal,’ because she and fellow inmates in the Big Brother Nigeria–DSTV/Multichoice morality jailhouse are simply ‘having a good time.’

It’s all a game, she reportedly said in a fit of sexual irresponsibility. Some mother gave birth to Anto. Some father sired her too. But whatever anyone thinks of her and fellow inmates, they are hardworking ambassadors of their families. Pride to their ancestry, it would seem.

Anto and peers are tragic manifestation of the modernity curse; there is too much to be feared by their theatrics and the applause they excite from viewing public, mostly youth.

Youth like Anto, Teddy A, who allegedly had sex with fellow inmate, Bambam, in a public toilet, are ‘wildly’ described as Nigeria’s future. Even though Teddy A’s moral compass led him to ‘appreciate’ Bambam by having sex with her in the toilet, soon after fellow inmates’ Miracle and Nina’s perverse sex, they are expected to succeed the incumbent ruling class.

Picture Teddy A as Nigeria’s Senate President; Anto as the country’s first female President and Bambam, the alleged daughter of a pastor, as a governor, bank chief, pastor cum youth mentor.

If the imagery scares you, wait till you read published commentary about inmates sexual ‘exploits’ in BBN’s controlled environment or jailhouse to be precise. Apologists of the show’s serialised pornography tirelessly spring caustic remarks in its defense: “But you are free to change the channel;” “Nigerians are hypocrites…they enjoy the show in secret and whine in the open,” they rail.

In response to Teddy A and Bambam’s toilet escapade, a music producer reprimanded critic thus: “I am not even judging…You never use toilet before? Cast the first stone.” Some other viewer defended the duo claiming they engaged in simulated sex.

Whether it is simulated or not, it’s wrong, subhuman perhaps, to have two adults go at it in a public toilet used by 20 persons, on live television.

It is even more disheartening to read subtle rationalization of the BBN perversion by journalism’s supposed leading lights; so-called fiery critics of government and societal corruption mutate into DSTV/Multichoice’s lackeys or errand boys in real time. What do they seek? A seat at the broadcaster’s annual gala or movies award night?

Kids are witnesses to BBN inmates’ perversions. They watch it on the internet and read frenzied reports of goings-on in the show by mainstream and new media.

Desperate rationalization of the show however, ignore its imminent repercussions on society to focus on economics; BBN apologists drone about how lucrative it is. To whom? It’s the show’s producers and sponsors that pocket all the profit.

Even its N45 million winner-takes-all prize is devilishly exploitative on participants who characteristically become fame junkies and commercial sex workers by the end of the show.

They bend and break and distort into hideous forms in pursuit of the prize money. Such character is unworthy of young men and women persistently touted as Nigeria’s future leaders.

At a time when the country needs young men and women of unimpeachable character to wrest leadership from predatory leadership, the country suffers the preponderance of degenerate youth.

There is no gainsaying Nigeria thrives as a theatre of the absurd; where public officers frolic with and sexually abuse minors; where an elected governor feverishly seeks to impose his son-in-law as his successor in a state of supposedly free citizens; where a mystical snake swallows millions of naira from JAMB coffers; where lawmakers mortgage the interests of the state to fulfill their material lusts and nomadic herdsmen murder aged farmers, in order to take over their land as pasture for cows. The list is endless.

Given that Nigeria’s federal government and broadcast regulators are enslaved to DSTV/Multichoice’s leash of ‘questionable incentives’ and touted ‘economic worth,’ the onus rests on parents, teachers and religious leaders to counsel their wards against indulgence in such gross contests as the BBN show.

At the absence of media and government censorship, the only thing left is an appeal to reason. Contrary to widespread notions about the show, it is actually scripted reality, which makes it unreal and fraudulent in scope.

Viewers believe that their votes count in selecting the winner. In truth, their votes never count. The show’s producers arbitrarily decide the winner of the prize money. And very few participants in the show go on to achieve their dreams of bliss. Most of the prize winners and runners-up squander whatever good fortune they earn by the show, in the long run.

True, the prize money may increase annually, but it is often a ploy to arouse wilder depravity in the show’s participants; no one should be surprised if DSTV/Multichoice introduces homosexual, lesbian and transgender porn via LGBT participants in subsequent editions of the show.

That day is coming; when it does, the media and government would turn a blind eye while the public claps in appreciation.

If truly, the evolution and progress of a nation is determined by the nature of its youth, what do we make of Nigeria; where youths rush to have sex in DSTV/Multichoice’s serialised pornography?

It’s an ugly reality for ex-BBN inmates outside its jailhouse. Anto, Teddy A, Bambam, Miracle, Nina and co will find life bleak and frustrating soon after they lose their pass to the red carpets. They will desperately lust for sustained media mention to no avail.

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In the BBN show, winners become famous and losers, almost famous; like past participants, some will become prostitutes, drug addicts and pitiful fame junkies. Eventually, they will burn out, unsung.

Until then, swamped by adrenaline, wild ego and depravity, they will exult in DSTV/Multichoice’s fiery lava of grime. It’s ill-bliss which eventually disappears. In time, their names will resound as the crusted corpse’s muffled groans in a garden of dirt.