Category: Life – The Midweek Magazine

The Example, the title of this book, is a snatch off Sam Omatseye’s “In Touch” back page column in The Nation Newspaper, in which he has, even bordering on the cliché, lauded Babatunde Fashola, SAN, outgoing governor of Lagos, as “governor of example”.

All then falls into conceptual logic.  The Example is all about “The Era of Babatunde Fashola as Governor of Lagos State” — the book’s sub-title — a glorious showcase of the wonders Fashola has wrought in his eight-year Lagos governorship, heading to a glorious finish on May 28.

The tale, a relay of 36 contributors, is told mainly by participant-observers, cabinet members past and present.  The only exceptions are John Kayode Fayemi, a gubernatorial peer and former governor of Ekiti, Leo Stan Ekeh, Chairman, Zinox Group, Aderemi Makanjuola, CEO Caverton Helicopters, Marvel Akpoyibo, former Lagos State Police Commissioner, Walter Olatunde, project director of Deux Projects Ltd, Aminu Yaro Idris, Sarkin Hausawa of Lagos State, Prof Adewale Oke, CMD, LASUTH and Mark Eddo, the maker of a triad of documentaries on the renascent Lagos of Asiwaju Tinubu-Babatunde Fashola era, and proud Eko citizen.

Of course, the book’s editor is also the Example christener, Sam Omatseye.  “On creation time, it was not difficult to call this book and project its name,” he gushed in his Editor’s Note. “It is a book about how one man redefined governance and invited others to the party.  He invited them not by words or personal gestures, but by the ambition of vision, the assiduity of performance and the clarity of results.”

That states the obviousness of the Fashola wonder, the governor’s cascade of policy excellence, in its overwhelming glory.  But did the underwhelming result of the 2015 election in Lagos State justify Governor Fashola’s overwhelming work?

What really happened?  Lagosians, spoilt by too much of good things, forgot, in a terrible hurry, the Egypt of past woes just because they had birthed in the Jerusalem of sheer bliss?  The profile of the electorate as sheer ingrates, a rabble easily misled by crass demonisation and subversive money during electioneering?

Or simply: that sterling policy and telling performance are never enough, without the active complements of doughty politics and vibrant social mobilisation?

These painful questions resonate, even more, with the symbolism of former Governor Fayemi penning the first of the 35 contributions (“Class Captain Babatunde Raji Fashola, SAN: a technocrat as politician”), after Prof. Itse Sagay, SAN, had declared Fashola, in his excellent Foreword, a former student in whom he was well pleased — the governor as complete servant of the law, the governor as thinker and the governor as policy wonk.

But Dr. Fayemi too executed the most brilliant policy framework, so far, in the history of Ekiti.  Yet, what all that earned him was democratic ouster by the Ekiti electorate.  Worse — ingratitude of ingratitude, even bordering on collective social suicide — the Ayo Fayose gang is busy putting most of Fayemi’s social and physical infrastructure policies to the sword, while the Ekiti, hitherto beneficiaries and eventual losers, seem to break into a manic cheer!

Again, what went wrong?  And with the balance of perceived forces just before the election, was Lagos consigned to the Ekiti fate, before the Almighty Himself, who never rewarded good with evil, took supreme charge, blessed Fashola’s heroic performance and granted Lagos the golden continuity the Tinubu-Fashola continuum had earned, by a dint of hard work and uncommon service?

Perhaps that question should be left to analysts, political pundits or even sociology experts to ponder before the next round of elections in 2019.  For now, the celebration of a citizen, who in the words of Prof. Sagay has achieved “spectacular success, in an arena in which the majority of actors have been such tragic failures” is quite in order.

All of the cabinet-member contributors agree.  But before you dismiss them as a bunch of policy in-breeders luxuriating in incestuous praises, the seven “outside contributors” did not differ. Indeed, viewing the governor from the horizontal plane of a partner, rather than looking up from the vertical stairs of a subordinate, they weighed in with clinical praise.

Zinox’s Stan Ekeh went to the governor to donate security and technological equipment worth N50 million, as part of his firm’s corporate social responsibility (CSR).  But before you could call Stan, the governor had named him a member of two crucial bodies: the LASU Governing Council and the Lagos State Innovation Council, based on his entrepreneurial track record.  Mark Eddo too conducted a perception workshop, which the governor, with his entire cabinet in tow, attended.  Again, before you could call Mark, Mark Eddo Media Ltd had become the state’s partner in global perception management.  Three excellent documentaries are the result.

That has got Mr. Ekeh quipping: Fashola does not see, in anyone, white, black, yellow, Igbo, Yoruba, Hausa.  All he sees is an agent of development; and how Lagos, his envisioned Africa’s model megacity, can put that talent into use.

Marvel Akpoyibo, former Lagos State commissioner of Police, marvelled at the governor’s successful public-private collaboration in security, in the Lagos State Security Trust Fund (LSSTF); and how it gave policing in Lagos a boost, and secured the state.  With the acclaimed success of the experiment, one just marvels at why such is not happening at the federal level.

Caverton Helicopters’ Makanjuola’s testimony, still under public-private collaboration, offered another peep into how steady Lagos would appear in the hands of its present managers, starting from the Asiwaju Tinubu administration in 1999.  While in 2009, Lagos acquired two state-of-the-art surveillance helicopters, the in-house “purser”, the accountant-general, back then, was a certain Akinwunmi Ambode.  Now, Mr. Ambode is governor-elect.  Talk of seamless continuity!

But the main story here is that the LSSTF idea, under which Caverton and Lagos collaborated on the security choppers, emerged from the Lagos State Corporate Assembly, a government-private sector forum, which conceived the idea in 2007.  It was a tribute to a governor’s rigorous engagement of the private sector in the Lagos mega-city agenda.  But if Lagos and Caverton could pair to deliver a solid security project, could the Federal Government not partner with interested investors, to deliver local refineries, migrate from fuel importation to fuel exportation, and boost the national purse?

The Fashola government’s rich PPP culture would be incomplete without mentioning the Lagos-Deux Projects Ltd collaboration in health facility management, which formed the contribution of Walter Olatunde, project director of Deux.  If LASUTH, LASUCOM and other state health facilities enjoy a lease of good maintenance, it is thanks to this partnership.

Still, while these private sector collaborators deserve their accolades, the real hero of the Fashola success are the cabinet members, and other Lagos public servants, who zestfully queued behind a workaholic leader, who is neither afraid nor tired of dreaming big dreams; and post haste, pushing those dreams into reality.

This shines through their insightful contributions to the volume.

Tunji Bello, for instance, describes the governor as a “technocrat and democrat” who nevertheless appears “too fastidious and tend to delay deliberations at exco with long lectures”!

Ben Akabueze links the prestige of megacity to the splitting headache of mega challenges.  “When you take the total number of schools in Lagos, it is more than the total number of schools in the 19 northern states of Nigeria put together.  So,” he quipped, “that gives you an idea of the scope of managing the sector.”

But the taste of the pudding is in the hot kitchen, the sacrosanct EXCO meeting, where policy is brewed.  There, according to Lanre Babalola, the chief of staff, the Governor is not “His Excellency” but “Chairman”; and Honourable Commissioners and Special Advisers are just “members”.  The impression you get though is that the governor is “principal”, the chief of staff “senior prefect” and the cabinet members just girls and boys, who though are seniors, still live in dread of a fastidious principal’s “housekeeping issues”, during which the governor demands, from commissioners, answers to observed lapses.  “Living in dread” is hyperbole, of course.  But it conveys the fierce focus of the Fashola cabinet.

This collection is a mine of information on the Babatunde Raji Fashola years — all of its challenges, all of its guts and all of its glory.  Still, it is hardly a critical piece, x-raying, comparing and contrasting; and coming up with a dialectic balance.  But whenever future researchers and analysts are ready to do that, The Example will serve as the research entry gold standard.

But until then, the fitting end to this review is the fitting end to the book itself, its very last sentence, courtesy of Idris Ibikunle Olorunnimbe: “It is not yet dusk for the visionary leader of men, it is merely the crack of dawn.”

 

 

 

This is a book that is a dream come true in both the philosophical wisdom of the Governor of Delta State, Dr. Emmanuel Eweta Uduaghan in his evangelical campaign of ‘Delta State Beyond Oil, DBO.’

The content of this compendium has real and tangible promises to change the mindset of those who believe and insist that the oil industry is the only way to generate revenue for the nation and individual selves as it takes us to ‘beyond oil’ and into other pastures of the economy.

For the long period the oil industry dominated Nigeria  and the Niger Delta where oil is explored and exploited, it has assumed the image and many characteristics of an only ‘saviour’ without viable alternatives and where non can be consciously considered.

In saying what has become only too obvious, it is stated in the book (vol. 1 p.95): “The sector has become the mainstay of the economy, pivoting other sectors and accounting for well over 90 per cent of the country’s foreign earnings. …the three tiers of government in Nigeria predicate their development agenda on revenue derived from oil and are therefore vulnerable to the vagaries in the international prices of oil.”

It should however be pointed out early enough that the book is not totally bidding farewell to this natural resource that has served the nation for decades but it is directly advocating for economic diversification to other areas where revenue/income can be generated.

Never before this publication has the strident advocacy for the spreading out of the revenue base been so championed formally. The call of the book especially is for the exploitation of the abundant natural resources that abound in the state. The first key sectors indicated are in the agriculture/agro-allied and manufacturing sectors amongst others.

The message in this publication could not have come at a better time than this and the potential benefactors owe gratitude to the following; Dr. Emmanuel Eweta Uduaghan, who originated the vision, the Delta Board of Inland Revenue, DBIR, that translated it into practical terms and the contributing writers who interpreted it into living text.

Coming in two compact volumes, this publication has two major and immediate appeals in terms of content and reach. It amply qualifies for a general interest reading and it meant to serve as a textbook in the state’s education system. And it covers as much of the cultural, social, economic and political being of Delta State.

The concept employed in writing the book, no doubt, is deliberately conceived and executed for several readership groups by the contributing authors and the publisher of the book, the Delta Board of Internal Revenue, DBIR.

What comes first and obviously becomes one of the most significant aspects of the book is the bold and indelible signature of the Delta State Governor, Dr. Emmanuel Eweta Uduaghan and his visionary streak in giving a desirable parting gift to Delta State – the hope and means of survival without the famed oil wealth whose fortunes have become imperiled by the day.

Across the world in recent times, the gale of falling oil prices has become one of the most disturbing experiences of those who dispense the common wealth of their people.

The effect of tumbling oil prices has been very pronounced and biting in a country like Nigeria which has been solely and sorely dependent on the revenue from oil to service both capital and recurrent expenditure.

As one of the major oil producing states and therefore one that is equally dependent on oil revenue, Delta State has taken an initiative that will serve not only itself but other states with similar status. The backlash that accompanied the recession in revenue from oil, in several ways, took many by surprise. And this has become a harrowing experience which could not have been contemplated or envisaged before now.

It is most likely that it is on this worrisome outcome in Dr. Uduaghan’s forecast and projections that he decided to conceive and design and implement this novel policy of pulling the fortunes of Delta State from the dependence on oil wealth.

The narration above certainly is no longer news, at least to those who can discern. What is now news is the deliberate attempt via this publication to sensitize the people on the dangers of depending mainly on oil and equally showing the ways on how to harness other alternative sources of revenue generation for the state and its people.

The book, by virtue of input, is a welcomed new genre to the Nigerian book world. The work is a rich product of an active imagination and a genuine creative way to offer tangible hope to a people in search of greener pastures.

But while basking in the wealth generated by oil, Delta Beyond Oil… did not fail to point out a major and significant lesson the readers needed to learn and do very well. This has to do with the adverse effect that oil has on the environment. Volume 1, page 79 states:

“Generally speaking, communities are dissatisfied with the consequences from oil operations. Some of the most serious relate to environmental sustainability which is fundamental to the people’s wellbeing and development. Wide ranging and usually destructive environmental changes have stemmed from oil and gas extraction, industrialization and urbanization. Oil spills and gas flares in particular have destroyed natural resources central to local livelihood.”

It should, however, be pointed out that this publication may not immediately translate to instant results but the potentials are obvious and open to those who can seize the initiative to diversify from the oil industry into other lucrative areas that have hitherto been lying fallow or unattended to.

The publication has two major components that are germane to the overall review at hand. The first is the theme that instigated and ran through the book. The second is the interpretations of the theme, in various sub-themes, in the book. While the first is credited to His Excellency, Dr. Emmanuel Uduaghan, the latter is due to Professor S.O. Aghalino  and his writing team who have breathed life into the vision in printed words.

As to be expected from lecturers on active service from the universities of Ilorin, Abraka, Ibadan, Benin, Lagos and College of Education, Warri, nothing less than a flawless content delivery and fluent narration is expected.

One major flaw in the publication is the absence of pictures in volume one. With a readership that is, at best, still apathetic in nature, pictures have a way of whetting a reader’s appetite and are capable of driving narrations very graphically.

Here, without the imputation s of politics is a book that deserves patronage across board.

 Nations are made by individuals who believe. Mrs. Adenike Obayemi, the CEO of Her Excellency, a skills development centre at 8 Owodunni Street, off Allen Avenue, in the Ikeja area of Lagos State is one Nigerian who believes in the drive to make Nigeria great through the grooming of young entrepreneurs. She has just published the well-packaged book, Make The Millions In New Businesses, an exquisite guide specially put together for children and teenagers in junior and senior secondary schools, students and undergraduates in sundry tertiary institutions and universities, and indeed all who want to excel in life. The book is a treasure-trove aimed at enabling the reader to acquire the relevant skills, domestic values and the necessary sense of responsibility to make it through life.

An English Language Education graduate of the esteemed University of Ife (now Obafemi Awolowo University), Adenike Obayemi is a teacher, master trainer, mentor, motivational speaker and consultant. Through the publication of Make The Millions In New Businesses, Adenike puts on the front burner her abiding mission to empower and develop the inner potentials of Nigerian children and youths for positive results. The added dimension is to promote self-employment and entrepreneurial culture in the wider society. On the practical front, there is the pivotal mission to teach the young female children the art and skills of baking, cookery and the production of drinks.

The essence of the book Make The Millions In New Businesses takes pride of place as it has been discovered that most of the vices and challenges today’s youths are faced with in terms of gross unemployment, under-employment, prostitution, fraudulent practices, idleness, lack of self-esteem, and self-worth are due to the fact they have not been properly exposed to a complete form of education. Adenike Obayemi strongly makes the case that for a child to completely fit into the present world, there is the need to include into the school curriculum some form of handworks and skills acquisition programmes. She stresses that the best time to do this is from the early years in school.

Written in simple, straightforward language and unique style with a step-by-step procedure which makes it very practical and easy to follow, Make The Millions In New Businesses is designed to help the students and their parents alike. The author knows that the busy lifestyles of the present-age parents have not helped matters for the young children because a lot of the roles the parents are supposed to play have been neglected or completely transferred to the school. She avers that it will therefore be in the best interest of all concerned for the schools to take the bull by the horn and ensure that this aspect of the child’s development is properly addressed. Adenike knows the heart of the matter through direct personal experience because, in the past few years, several parents have during the long vacations brought their children to Her Excellency centre to be trained in cooking and food preparation, cakes and bread making, pastries and beads making. She feels fulfilled that these acquired skills form an addition to their educational qualification, therefore making these children to have an all-round education.

Make The Millions In New Businesses is meant to serve several purposes such as wealth creation, youth and women empowerment, poverty eradication and skills acquisition in different areas; and “it is not gender biased”. It smacks of ignorance for supposedly educated people to underestimate handworks because they feel it is only meant for the uneducated and school dropouts. The book makes the crucial point that the days of education for white collar jobs are gone.

It is meet to adopt the words of Akinniyi I. Sowunmi, Leader/CEO of Popeman, Lagos in his Foreword to Make The Millions In New Businesses, to wit: “Since March 27, 1944 when Asa Griggs Candler registered the Coca Cola patent and used his entrepreneurial skills to launch the Coke, a drink originally meant to be patient medicine by its inventor, John Pemberton, into the most valuable global brand available at all nooks and crannies internationally… the challenge is to get fired by the ideas in the book to launch a business bigger than the Coca Cola onto our tables very soon with the guiding designs here provided.”

With spiraling unemployment, there is no escape for the young Nigerian who does not embrace the step-by-step methods made for practical use in Make The Millions In New Businesses. There is the shining example of Tolani who “graduated from one of the best universities in South West region of Nigeria” who was frustrated during years of unemployment and under-employment only to eventually become a very successful employer of labour after undergoing training in Cakes Baking and Decoration at Her Excellency Centre.

Adenike Obayemi undertakes a hands-on step-by-step procedure in Make The Millions In New Businesses. One gets to learn how to prepare Small Chops such as Puff Puff, Vegetable Springroll and Asun (Goat Meat Barbeque). Cocktail Drinks like Chapman, Tropical Sunset, Pineapple on the Rocks, and Strawberry Sensation are ready grist to the author’s mill. Nigerian Indigenous Soups, notably Edikang Ikong, Egusi, Efo Riro, Afang, Banga and Oha Soup, are picturesquely featured. The richly illustrated chapters encompass Bread Making, Snacks & Pastries, Cake Baking, and Desserts.

In all, by studying the recipes adroitly set out in Make The Millions In New Businesses and going ahead to practice and master the productions one will definitely be on the success-laden road of starting a fulfilling business that will help move Nigeria forward economically. I wholeheartedly recommend that Make The Millions In New Businesses be adopted as a textbook for junior and secondary school students across all the states of Nigeria.

What is it about taking pictures? What price can you pay for taking a policeman’s picture when he is in a compromising situation? Are you willing to take the risk? Ask  Senior Correspondent, Evelyn Osagie, who recounts her ordeal in the hands of an overzealous policeman during the elections.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

 

I sit behind my desk for the umpteenth time this month with worrying thoughts. Each of those times, I would urge myself before sitting down, “write Evelyn, write”. Most of those times, I would walk to my desk with a renewed eagerness to write, sit down, begin the first paragraph and end up staring into space with a cold shiver running deep down my spine, which leaves me with a feeling of déjà vu.

“Na by force to write, the thing don pass, forget am,” a friend, who was tired of seeing me “punish myself” as she puts it, would often taunt me to drop the subject and try my hands on something else. “Go to Zungeru or any of those mountains you go to for exclusives and leave the matter alone. God don save you, wetin again. Police people terrible O! No try them. What if they had maimed you.”

It was not that I was having trouble writing down my experience the day I got into trouble taking the picture of a police officer, who was harassing a lawyer, after being caught in a very compromising position while on election duty. Ironically, my crime, he said, was poking my nose into what did not concern me. I had still not gone past the fact that I got caught making extra effort to hear all sides out. “I wanted his side of the story…for objectivity sake,” I’d said. It was a gesture editors, who heard, termed: “foolish”. “You got an exclusive and wasted it,” they all said.

The fears and horrifying thoughts, the dry throat and hunger pangs that bedevilled me those six hours spent at the police station still haunted me. After being made to delete the photographs and sign an undertaking not to attempt such an act again in the future, one wonders how free is the freedom of the press. I’ve learnt in a hard way how harsh the price people pay for justice.

It is happening again. This is what happens each time I tried pencilling down my experience, I would drift into these thoughts, exhale as if choking and end with the rhetoric question, “What are you afraid of?”

As I put pen to paper behind my desk for another try at writing, I am drifting again. But, surprisingly, I have gone beyond the first, and I’m now in the sixth paragraph. It could be likened to the story of the fight between a mythical lion and leopard over a certain issue, and how the leopard, an onlooker, who was attempting to intercede, got caught in the middle.

 

Saturday, March 28, 2015

 

The presidential election may have come and gone. But I remember that Saturday morning too well. I remember having two things on my mind at the crack of dawn. I was going to vote and cover the elections.

As I left my home after listening to Asa’s song, I made a list of centres to visit, outline women’s involvement in the process and sample the thoughts of businesswomen. Beforehand, I was going to get accredited, and then, go get my story. But the day’s experience taught me to respect the wise saying: “Don’t judge the day by the early morning weather”.

I got to the centre around 11am and made for the queue to get accredited, but was told  that women were given special privilege to get accredited and vote without joining the long queue. “That was good,” I said as my journalistic instinct screamed, “a good story  too”.

A sampled opinion through calls from family and friends revealed the privilege was unique to my centre. Before coming there I’d visited another close by, but found nothing interesting in the place so I left for mine.

The lady Traffic Warden was “on point”; ensuring people were not jumping the queue. Within minutes, I was through with accreditation. I was “Number 797” on the queue and was ready to hit the streets before the voting started. I decided to start from that centre.

I did some interviews and was on my last when a man, who introduced himself as a lawyer, came, complaining bitterly. “Journalist, please come, there is a police officer who is supposed to be on duty, but is drinking beer with some people close by. People are jumping the queue and the woman officer cannot handle it alone,” he said.

I told him I was on my last interview and would join him shortly. But that was not to be. Before I could say jack, pandemonium broke out and that was how I was disenfranchised. And my preferred candidate lost one vote.

The police officer had caught and waylaid the lawyer with his drinking fellows, demanding his phone. Before long, the lawyer was slapped and accused of disturbing public peace.

He was caught in the act; and I got the officer in camera. But instead of leaving the scene with the six “exclusive shots”, I decided to investigate the issue thoroughly by speaking to the parties involved. This was around 11 O’clock

I spoke to the Traffic Warden, the policeman’s drinking fellows and onlookers. Each had different versions of the story. I then waited to talk to the officer in question. That was my undoing.

As I approached him with a smile to ask what really happened, one of his “bedfellows” screamed, “she also took your picture”. That was what the officer, whose mouth reeked of alcohol, needed to hear. “Why do you come here and take my picture; who authorised you?” he screamed, dragged and tore my camera from my hand.

“I am a journalist with The Nation and I am here to ask you questions with regards…” Nothing I said mattered.

“Where is your ID card?” All efforts to explain, that I had lost my purse with my ID and ATM card inside some days before at Oshodi and had even requested my bank to block my ATM card, and that my complimentary card was somewhere in my bag, proved abortive.

He was busy searching through the pictures on my camera; on seeing the picture where he was grabbing the lawyer’s trousers, all hell broke loose. He threatened fire and brimstone, and promised to arrest and send me to court for this embarrassment. Some people suggested to him that the pictures should be deleted and the matter rested. Next thing I knew he radioed his office and three stern-looking policemen arrived on tricycle. I was to be arrested along with the lawyer.

But before leaving I asked what my crime was. “You will find out when you get to the station,” they answered.

As they drove to Pen Cinema Police Station, I reached for my phone and found it was gone; I scattered my bag in search of my complimentary cards and found none. That was when I became agitated. “How do I reach the office, my family and friends now?” Many scenes of police brutality on films flashed through my mind. I uttered a silent prayer, but put up a strong face.

As we arrived it was as if the station was waiting for us. “I think una say una no go leave police alone! We go show you wetin e mean to take police picture without permission.” The officers were angry and ready to make scapegoats of us. I made another prayer to God and tried to keep a straight face.

We were met by a female DPO on special assignment to that station, who said she studied Mass Communication. “As you got to centre did you take snapshots of the police officers when they were doing their duties.” I said I did. The furious-looking DPO then asked that the case be handled by the DCO, Mrs Margaret Yinka-Akingbade.

During the DCO’s interview of the said officer, who I later found was called Mr Tawose Sola, he explained that he had sat with the men to forestall any unrest and had spent N5, 000 from his purse on drinks, following an information he received. I wondered why it took him until he got to the station before he explaining himself.

She asked for my IDs and I told her what happened and ask that they place a call to my office to verify my statement.

We were told write our statement. I was booked; feeling sad I spent over 30 minutes crafting a statement. While waiting to receiving our statements, IPO Akin, who was asked to book us, reiterated his colleagues’ words, while asking that be fast with as they had other pressing issues to handle. I kept asking what crime I committed and asked to call my office. To my surprise, he offered his phone and I called my Desk Head, who, in turn, got across to the PPRO and Deputy Commissioner of Police (Operations). By then, I was dying of thirst and asked to get water.

After a long and uncertain wait, I asked for water again, and as we were being transferred to Area G Command in Ogba, a SUPOL, who later became very friendly, gave me water. On getting to the Area Commander, after listening to us, asked the DCO to caution and let us go.

We were, then, taken back to Pen Cinema Police Station where we were made to sign an undertaking, not to do that again, before we were let off the hook. This was after I was made to delete the “incriminating” photographs showing Mr Sola harassing the lawyer.

I remember laughing as I wrote.  But “not to do it again, hmm”  I shook my head but felt too dizzy to think and “biting” hunger pangs; it was past close to Six O’clock. The SUPOL insisted that I ate with her. Fear gripped me at first, but I was too hungry to care.

I was then asked to leave. As I walked back to check for my phone at the centre, I met a crowd rejoicing that their candidates won the centre. “This would make good shot I thought”, I thought. The police officer was there again, this time, he was threatening to send me back to jail for taking pictures of people. I ran off to avoid a repeat of the earlier incident.

Interestingly, while on my way home I met my female neighbours, who said they were coming for my rescue. It came as a surprise that their husbands had informed them  and they took the initiative to come in search of me – “talk about Jesus and the women at the tomb”.

 

Saturday, April 11, 2015

 

Two weeks after, I remember standing in the shower on the morning of the governorship election and drifting to that ‘thought’ place again. One of my editors, Mr Lekan Otufodurin had asked me, “Given the same situation, Evelyn, would you take the same action?”

The answer left me shivering, but not from the cold splashing water, caressing my face.

“I was jinxed like Sisi Calabar had said”, I thought, “I had to break it.” What perfect day to break free than another Election Day. “Hopefully, the day would go differently.”

I figured since the incident happened during the presidential election, a fresh experience would help wash away bad memories. But I could only go beyond my door before my stomach turned out of fear and I ran inside to take a leak. By the time I was done and ready to go out, it was way past noon and my friends/neighbours insisted on going with me “to keep you safe,” as they put it.

We still joke over the way they marched towards the station, like ancient amazons of war, as if they were ready to take on an entire battalion. But whether they succeed or not in keeping me out of trouble was another day’s tale.

And every time I am asked “Given the same situation, Evelyn, would you take the same action?” The answer still leaves me shivering, but not from splashing raindrops, and I’d answer: “You know the rest.”