We should all be Yahoo Boys
(Or #Bring Back our Boys)
While men slept, no, while men were busy going about the gospel of other things, while Aunty Chimamanda broadcast the gospel of feminism, while some rave that it is a menace, and some others counter-argue that it is salvation come to men, a menace, the true menace, crept in and stole our boys. While we fought for the return of our Chibok girls, and their sisters stolen from Dapchi, a terroristic phenomenon harvested our boys in a number that would more than quadruple that of the Chibok and Dapchi girls combined. This is not saying that the clamour for their return is inconsequential, this is saying; while we were about crossing the road, we looked at one side, but failed to look at the other side. So, we have been hit, but many do not know.
There was a time when I used to know only two yahoo boys- internet fraudsters. They are twin brothers who were, or paraded themselves as, students of Ladoke Akintola University of Technology (LAUTECH). That time, the yahoo boys in LAUTECH if numbered, would not be more than twenty. Did you hear me say that time? There was a time when I used to know good boys with bright ambitions, talented boys, some of which were skilled at playing football, some musical instruments, some others drawing, just to mention a few. There was a time when I used to have discussions with these talented boys, times when we condemned the activities of internet fraudsters, innocent times when we swore to ourselves never to be entangled in the web of fraud. Well, those were times when almost every young boy back home swore it. The currents changed, the tide turned. Some called it recession, others said it was because Alao Akala did not win the state’s gubernatorial seat the second time. Time changed is all I know, and with the tides that turned came bleak things. And because man will always strive to survive, with bleak days came dark acts.
There used to be boys in government schools then, boys whose parents had little or nothing going. Boys whose sole aim was to strive to get themselves an education, in other to eradicate poverty. Impoverished schooling they got from their various secondary schools, and impoverished higher institutions of learning were the ones ready to take them. These boys made it to school, and all that was sung in their ears was; “Many are roaming the streets, jobless. They came to school too. If you are not in any way related to someone influential, I am sorry for you.” Over time, this song became a clichéd monotone, and the boys sought for themselves a future and a hope, or so they thought. They tagged it hustle. Hustle is the modern definition for various fraudulent means of making money without putting in so much effort. These boys are having a taste of the pudding that wealth is; they can get iPhones and designer clothes, they can shop online and in supermarkets, more importantly, they can have any girl they want. What more would a boy want?
We should all be yahoo boys was the silent message my friend, a very good one at that, passed me, when we had a very long conversation. I saw this friend of mine some months back, and the changes I saw confirmed my suspicion. As I try as much as I can not to condemn the acts of anyone, I related to him like before, but the change was evident, I had to ask him, “Are you also into yahoo?” He denied at first, but minutes later, he said, “So what if I am into yahoo, how is it your business?” I made him know I was not out to criticise him, and he let down his defence. Weeks passed, and we never said two words related to yahoo. Some days ago, we were returning home together, when he opened up. The conversation started with another good friend who had turned into a chain smoker and drug addict. I had not known of that, and it saddened my heart. He was a very good friend, and I never expected that of him. This yahoo boy of a friend that I have told me he also smokes, but he is not addicted. He told me of how he ventured into yahoo. The people he started with, how they told him to find spiritual aids, of which are body IP and or yahoo+; what many girls have fallen victims of. He spoke how he refused. He told me of when he started cashing out, in hundreds of thousands, hundreds of thousands! He spoke of the hatred that was sowed in the lives of fellow yahoo boys, because he was making much more than they were. He told me of the loss of his phone; how his venture went down the drain. Speaking of regrets, he said he regretted not investing. He said he had fears that money made through that means would not last one long enough. Right then, he vowed to invest whatever he gets next, and he did say he would stop one day. In all sincerity, he said one thing: “Yahoo is more difficult than any other job.” With this I asked why boys venture into yahoo then. If they are that tenacious as yahoo boys, can they not transfer such tenacity into any honest labour and make it? He then told me of the unavailability of capital for the many who would love to start businesses, and how school, which we have over time run to, was no longer the solution to poverty. I told him of the innumerable start-up grants that exist, and he laughed them off, asking how many people they could reach. Truth, as he said it is, even if we have many start-up grants, some would still not get. He gave examples of people like me, striving, how much we have made. There were elements of truth in what he said, and it was my lame gospel against his hardened heart. Though the traces of truth abound in what he said, it still does not justify breaking hearts, duping people, being the cause of some suicidal cases.
Home is a fast developing town in Oyo State of Nigeria. Home is Ogbomosho. My last two returns home hit me with a sad reality; home has become bleak. The streets no longer bear the laughter of youngsters; the bush no longer have paths worn into them by the bare feet of kids seeking to pick snails. Everyone here has grown, and with their growth, wants. Different boys have sought different means of getting their wants; learning a trade, going to school, drowning in the ignorant bliss of drinks, drugs and smoking, betting, or going into the hustle. None of them has seriously considered getting an education and self-development. If there are five boys aged 14 and above seated, then all would be involved in at least one of what I have listed above. That is what home now has to offer. Looking at it, my friend is not all wrong when he says the capital is not there. When I asked him why boys continue to go into yahoo, as difficult as he claims it to be, he said, “Yahoo will never lose its relevance. As fraudsters increase in arithmetic progression, the victims increase in geometric progression. What has been brought in that is a little troubling is that people no longer have patience. They get a client today, and would wish that the person starts paying almost immediately, with little or no labour.” What has got into our boys? What is this monstrous menace that is fast roping them in? Who or what do we blame?
The society that has allowed the acquisition of wealth to subsume all other things is to blame. The society that celebrates the celebrities, who pump out monthly, songs that normalise this anomaly, is to blame. The society that helps the youths call on an able god to shower his blessings, because they just want this money and want to ride Bentley, even if this money is gotten illegally, is to blame. The blame is for hundreds of mothers and fathers who sit comfortably in cars that were bought from the returns of many a girl who lost their life. The blame is for you, slightly comfortable, that slight the poor amidst you. The blame is for you, insatiable boy, and your covetous quest. The blame is for you, if you would not resist this evil, now resident among us. The blame is for you, if you would not do all in your capacity, to rise against this monstrous menace. So, this is saying: “While you clamour for the return of our girls long gone, and fight that this may economy get better, while you call on us to respect the female sex and ask us to be feminists, while you seek better conditions of service, remember our boys; bring back our boys.”
