Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you a narrative that's more current than tomorrow's newspaper. Just yesterday, the tireless officials of Nigeria's Economic and Financial Crimes Commission—or EFCC, as the common man says—descended upon the ritzy neighborhood of Lekki like a summer storm.

Now, among the caught-red-handed bunch was one Wole DSB Afolabi, who carries the artistic name of Wole DSB. Ain't that a predicament for a man who creates melodies to find himself caught in the long arms of the law?

The surprise visit—executed with the exactness of a skilled riverboat pilot—rounded up a total of a few dozen alleged cyber criminals. Never has a group looked more surprised than fish in a barrel.

Spread out before the cameras were the evidence of their alleged wrongdoings: illicit pharmaceuticals, suspicious devices, and other forbidden goods that would make a schoolmarm faint.

I've noticed that these digital con artists, as people thereabouts term them, have a peculiar affinity for the finer things in life—not unlike how a Mississippi steamboat captain might display his good fortune.

The EFCC head, in addressing this impressive haul, emphasized that the raid forms part of their continuing efforts to purify Nigeria of the scourge of digital deception. It's a noble cause, though I imagine as many new appear as lilies after a spring rain.

The musician Wole DSB now must answer to serious charges that could situate him in a less melodious environment for a considerable period.

Consider that just yesterday he might have been composing melodies, and today he's singing a different tune. Fate has a habit of changing direction faster than a whirlwind.

If this account serve as a warning to others? Perhaps so, though human nature being what it is, some will always exist who believe they're cleverer than authorities.

Therefore, as this saga develops in the judicial system, we common folks can only watch and contemplate at the strange journeys that bring a man of music to swap his microphone for a defendant's stand.