Friends, let me relate to you a narrative that's more current than tomorrow's newspaper. Not long ago, the tireless officials of Nigeria's Economic and Financial Crimes Commission—or EFCC, as folks call them—swooped down on the fancy neighborhood of Lekki quicker than a hiccup.

I reckon, among the unlucky individuals was one musician Wole DSB Afolabi, who goes by Wole DSB. Wouldn't you know it for a purveyor of tunes to find himself tangled in the unforgiving clutches of the law?

The operation—conducted with the exactness of a skilled riverboat pilot—rounded up a total of thirty-eight alleged cyber criminals. I've seen catfish caught in nets with more dignity.

Laid bare before the world were the fruits of their alleged misdeeds: bottles of codeine syrup, tools of the digital trade, and other contraband that would make a schoolmarm faint.

It strikes me that these internet swindlers, as people thereabouts term them, have a particular fondness for the luxurious items in life—not unlike how a frontier shopkeeper might display his good fortune.

The EFCC big fish, in speaking about this notable apprehension, underlined that the action forms part of their unrelenting crusade to rid Nigeria of the pestilence of cybercrime. That's mighty righteous, though I imagine as many new fraudsters spring up as mosquitoes in a swamp.

The musician Wole DSB now faces weighty allegations that could situate him in a place where the music ain't so sweet for quite some time.

Imagine that in recent times he might have been crafting tunes, and now he's singing a different tune. Fate has a habit of shifting like river currents.

In the event this story act as a caution to would-be criminals? I reckon it might, though human nature being what it is, there'll always be those who think they're smarter than the law.

Therefore, as this tale continues in the courts, we regular people can only look on and wonder at the curious paths that bring a melodious spirit to swap his microphone for a jailhouse bunk.