HOW THE NIGERIAN GIANTS OF AFRICA '?' LEADERS AND ELITES AVERTED NUCLEAR WARHEAD STRIKES - [ IN DEH BLERK ARSE ] - WITH THE HELP OF JESUS, ALLAH, AND JUJU [ SATIRE ]



 In an unexpected turn of events at the recently concluded Global Leadership Summit, Nigeria's political elite found themselves embroiled in a moment of profound embarrassment and spiritual reckoning. Known for their extravagant lifestyles and alleged involvement in unsavory dealings, Nigeria’s top leaders entered the summit with their usual swagger—decked out in designer suits and flaunting their wealth. But they were about to face an opponent whose power transcended anything their fortunes could shield them from.

The drama began when Nigeria’s President, with all the confidence of a man accustomed to power, strode to the front of the summit hall and demanded a place at the head of the table. “I am THE leader of Africa, and I demand respect!” he declared, his voice resonating with authority. What he hadn’t anticipated was the dead silence that followed his statement. The other leaders, well aware of Nigeria’s less-than-transparent governance, exchanged uneasy glances.

Expecting applause or at least some acknowledgement of his claim, the President was instead met with a stern and almost playful response from a mysterious foreign leader. This leader’s identity remains closely guarded, but sources suggest a figure with an aura of chilling authority—a mix of Dracula’s presence and the Terminator’s efficiency. “You want a seat?” the foreign leader quipped, his tone laced with disdain. “Let’s start with something more... practical. A role that suits your abilities.”

The room was stunned as the foreign leader pointed to a pristine toilet at the far end of the hall. 

“Go clean it,” the leader commanded. The Nigerian delegation froze, unable to comprehend the audacity of the request.

The President, clearly shaken by the humiliation, stammered, “You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I’m very serious,” the foreign leader responded, his smirk widening. “Clean it.”

Things quickly escalated when Vice President Shettima, enraged by the public affront, stepped forward to defend the delegation’s honor. “This is an insult! I, too, deserve a seat!” he protested.

The foreign leader raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed. “You?

 How about you take on the role of a mayguard?” For Shettima, being assigned to such a demeaning role was beyond comprehension. The mayguard, a low-ranking security position associated with northern Nigeria, was a slap in the face to a man of his stature.

"I refuse!" Shettima declared vehemently. "I will not accept this."

“Then you leave me no choice,” the foreign leader retorted coldly. “Refuse, and I’ll have to deploy the big guns—nuclear bombs.”

With nuclear annihilation now on the table, the Nigerian delegation had no option but to retreat in haste, fearing for their lives and the future of their country. They returned home, unsure of what awaited them.

Back in Nigeria, the President and Vice President sought refuge in the most familiar of places—a temple. In an emergency spiritual summit, the two leaders turned to their cultural defense systems in a desperate bid to ward off the looming nuclear threat.

The President, unwilling to face the situation without some local flavor, dug out his voodoo dolls and cowrie shells, arranging them in a sacred circle. “Voodoo will protect us!” he proclaimed, dancing with wild abandon, as if invoking ancient powers could undo the embarrassment he’d just suffered.

Meanwhile, Vice President Shettima, not to be outdone, raised his hands to the heavens, chanting fervently to Allah, hoping divine intervention would shield Nigeria from destruction. His prayers were so intense that the air around him seemed to crackle with energy.

Not to be left out, the President also pulled out a golden cross—the finest Nigeria could afford—and recited scripture with all the fervor of a man who knew he was up against forces he couldn’t control. “Jesus, please save us from this catastrophe!” he cried, his voice quivering in desperation.

The two leaders, surrounded by a haze of incantations, prayers, and symbols, believed that only the combined forces of the supernatural could avert disaster.

In an ironic twist, reports surfaced that the foreign leader had indeed activated the nuclear option—though not in the way anyone had expected. Instead of launching missiles, the leader sent a massive shipment of cleaning supplies—buckets, mops, and toilet brushes—straight to Nigeria's ministry of finance as a coded sign regarding what was impending for Nigerian leaders with unexplained millions and billions of national wealth/ funds deposited in international banks.

As Nigeria’s elite returned to their mansions, they were left to ponder the strange chain of events that had led to this blitzkrieg of a catastrophe. 

Humiliated they could only hope to be decommissioned as painlessly as possible before exposure, arrest, uncertain fate or further "scrub-worthy" encounters per: the next global summit.




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