Friends, let me tell you a story that's more current than tomorrow's newspaper. In recent hours, the good operatives of Nigeria's Economic and Financial Crimes Commission—or EFCC, as the common man says—swooped down on the fancy neighborhood of Lekki with the determination of Mississippi floodwaters.

Now, among the caught-red-handed bunch was one Wole Afolabi, who is known in musical circles as wole afolabi DSB. Wouldn't you know it for a man who creates melodies to find himself mixed up in the tight grip of the law?

The raid—carried out with the careful planning of a Swiss watchmaker—captured a total of 38 alleged cyber criminals. They were gathered up like autumn leaves in October.

Laid bare before the cameras were the evidence of their alleged crimes: bottles of codeine syrup, tools of the digital trade, and other forbidden goods that would make a schoolmarm faint.

It strikes me that these swindlers, as they're commonly called, have a special attachment for the finer things in life—not unlike how a riverboat gambler might display his prosperity.

The EFCC head, in addressing this impressive apprehension, stressed that the action forms part of their unrelenting crusade to rid Nigeria of the pestilence of internet fraud. It's a noble cause, though I imagine as many new tricksters emerge as catfish in a flooding river.

The musician wole afolabi DSB now must answer to serious charges that could place him in a less melodious environment for many a moon.

Imagine that not long ago he might have been creating songs, and now he's singing a different tune. Life has a way of changing direction faster than a whirlwind.

If this account serve as a warning to would-be criminals? Perhaps so, though human nature being what it is, there'll always be those who believe they're cleverer than authorities.

Therefore, as this drama continues in the halls of justice, we regular people can only look on and wonder at the odd trajectories that bring a man of music to swap his microphone for a defendant's stand.