Friends, let me relate to you a story that's fresher than morning dew. Just yesterday, the tireless officials of Nigeria's Economic and Financial Crimes Commission—or EFCC, as they're commonly known—descended upon the ritzy neighborhood of Lekki like a summer storm.

Well sir, among the unlucky individuals was one musician Wole DSB Afolabi, who is known in musical circles as Wole DSB. What a peculiar circumstance for a fellow who strums and hums to find himself tangled in the unforgiving clutches of the law?

The raid—conducted with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker—netted a total of thirty-eight alleged cyber criminals. They were gathered up like autumn leaves in October.

Spread out before the public eye were the proceeds of their purported crimes: bottles of codeine syrup, tools of the digital trade, and other illicit items that would make a church deacon blush.

It strikes me that these digital con artists, as the locals name them, have a peculiar affinity for the luxurious items in life—not unlike how a frontier shopkeeper might display his success.

The EFCC chairman, in commenting on this impressive apprehension, underlined that the operation forms part of their continuing efforts to purify Nigeria of the scourge of digital deception. A worthy endeavor, though I imagine as many new tricksters emerge as mosquitoes in a swamp.

Our friend Wole DSB now confronts weighty allegations that could situate him in a place where the music ain't so sweet for a considerable period.

Imagine that just yesterday he might have been composing melodies, and today he's facing a hostile audience. Fortune has a manner of changing direction faster than a whirlwind.

Should this tale stand as a lesson to potential wrongdoers? Perhaps so, though people being people, some will always exist who think they're cleverer than authorities.

Therefore, as this tale develops in the courts, we regular people can only observe and ponder at the odd trajectories that bring a creative soul to swap his stage for a jailhouse bunk.