By Luminous Jannamike, Abuja
In Rivers State, where political drama flows like palm wine at a village meeting, former Head of Service, George Nwaeke, dropped a bombshell last weekend during a press conference.
He declared: “It all started with the State House of Assembly. We had the governor, Siminilayi Fubara, directed his Chief of Staff to burn down the Assembly to prevent suspected impeachment. That evening, Edison was in Government House with plenty of his boys, including the former chairman of Obi-Akpor, one Mr Chijioke Ihunwo. I was there with them when a bag of money was handed over to Edison for that operation.”
The words hit like a slap from an angry mother, and before anyone could say “wetin dey happen,” the whole state was buzzing. But while Rivers people were waiting for the next episode, the real drama was already cooking—literally—at George’s house, with his wife, Florence, ready to turn the whole situation into a Nollywood blockbuster.
Florence Calls the Shots
Florence was at home, stirring a pot of soup, when she saw George on TV. Her heart skipped. “Burn the Assembly? Money bags? George, what’s this?” she asked herself, gripping her wooden spoon like a microphone.
Then her brain did a reset. Where is George? She grabbed her phone and dialled his number—no answer. She called again—switched off. That’s when she let out a scream that could wake ancestors.
“Ye! They have kidnapped my husband!” she wailed, dropping her spoon like a woman in a Nollywood film. Instead of rushing out to find him, she did what any dramatic Nigerian wife would do—she called the press. Within minutes, reporters filled her parlour, cameras rolling.
She cried, “My husband is in trouble! My husband is in trouble! My husband is in trouble! Look at the message I sent to him, I said, ‘Daddy, why?’ I said, ‘Were you held hostage?’ I said, ‘Why didn’t you talk to me?’ Those are the messages I sent to him but he did not reply me. His numbers are not going through. Nigerians, help me o!”
Fubara’s Confusion
Meanwhile, Fubara, chilling at home and sipping tea like a man watching Tom and Jerry, was confused. “Nwaeke has been compromised and is being coerced to lie against me,” he told his political allies.
Then Florence, still in full crisis mode, did something bold—she called the governor herself.
“My husband is in trouble o! I can’t get him! My husband is in trouble o! All his phones are switched off! You people should help me o! My husband is in trouble o!” she shouted.
Fubara, clearly baffled, replied, “Madam, I just saw that he granted a media briefing, so I’m even surprised that…”
Florence cut him off, “He is in trouble o! They may have killed him o! I don’t know if he is alive! Please help me o!”
At this point, Nigerians were not just watching a scandal; they were watching a live telenovela.
George Resurfaces, Drama Peaks
The next day, while Florence was still gathering tears from her eyes, George appeared in a video, sipping chilled water like he just finished eating suya.
“After some hours of addressing the press, I saw a video of my wife trending online that I was kidnapped and that I made my statement under duress. I’ve really debunked that. My wife cannot speak for me on civil service matters. Well, I’m still healthy. I’m mentally very fit. Let me say it again, I was not kidnapped,” he said, as calm as someone who just won a bet.
Florence stared at the TV, mouth open. “Cannot speak for me? George, you’re disgracing me on national TV?” she muttered, looking like someone whose neighbour just finished the last cup of garri in the compound.
That evening, Fubara called Florence, probably wondering if she was in on the drama.
“Madam, I just saw something this evening… You’re sure you’re not aware of this his action?”
Florence replied, “I don’t know o… He told me in the morning that his friend…”
Fubara pressed, “You know why I’m asking. At least there’s nothing that happens that he doesn’t share with you. Where have I offended him? And why will he cook this level of lies against me? Where have I offended you people?”
Florence stuck to her tune, “He is in trouble. He is in trouble. So please help me…” The call ended with Fubara muttering under his breath, “This family is something else…” and Florence fuming, “George don shame us!”
Laughter Breaks the Tension
That evening, George finally called home. “Florence, wetin be all this noise about me missing?”
Florence snapped, “You no see my 20 missed calls? Your phone off, I think say dem don carry you!”
George laughed. “My battery die, my charger no dey close to me. You wan make I use pigeon charge am? Calm down, I dey Abuja with security people.”
Florence hissed, “Calm down? You say I no fit talk for you, say I dey act good script but na you dey act funny film here—see the shame wey we dey inside!”
Their domestic workers, eavesdropping, chuckled, “Aunty Florence, you too dey fear!”
Meanwhile, Reuben Abati weighed in on TV, adding the final touch to the matter.
“I once described the situation in Rivers State as similar to what a professor wrote in his book One Day, One Trouble. Dr Nwaeke has said he will provide evidence. Let him provide that evidence. As for the matter between him and his wife, I don’t think any serious-minded person should get involved in that. It’s a domestic affair that’s spiralled into public entertainment. If he doesn’t know how to communicate with his wife, if she doesn’t know where he is, that’s their private headache. The real tragedy is for the people of Rivers State, who are left watching this circus instead of seeing governance.”
Some people in the barbershop laughed, shaking their heads. “Abati don finish di matter! No be small thing!” However, one of them asked, “If na you be Florence, you no go panic?” The barber summed it up, saying, “This one na full comedy show!”
Oha Soup and a Truce
Days later, George finally returned to Port Harcourt. Florence met him at the door, arms folded like a headmistress ready to give punishment.
“You couldn’t tell me you were safe in Abuja? See how I disgrace myself!” she scolded.
George grinned. “Sorry, my dear. But you didn’t need to call Fubara like I was lost forever!”
Florence shook her head. “Next time, charge your phone, or I go tell Nigeria say you don join missing persons list!”
They sat down to a steaming plate of Oha soup and pounded yam, a proper Ikwerre meal, and laughed at the chaos.
“Fubara and Wike fight almost scatter us. What God has joined together, let no politician put asunder,” Florence said.
George nodded. “Next time, I’ll call you before I talk to press.”
As they ate, the domestic workers gossiped, and one thing was clear—Rivers State drama had turned Nwaeke’s house into a full-blown comedy show.
Disclaimer: This story is a blend of real events and fictional exaggerations for entertainment purposes. Some aspects are purely from the writer’s imagination.
The post Nollywood Rivers: Florence and the Missing Husband Saga appeared first on Vanguard News.
