The Nation Newspaper

Category: Segun Gbadegesin

  • Nigeria at 60

    Nigeria at 60

    Segun Gbadegesin

     

    IT is another landmark for Nigeria in the comity of nations. But it should be apparent to any keen observer that this diamond jubilee is not unequivocally different from the previous milestones. Indeed, going with the various comments in mainstream and social media in recent times, Nigeria appears to be beating a reverse gear on what many thoughtful people consider the most important priorities of national life, namely security and welfare of citizens.

    Going back to the middle of the first decade of the 4th republic, this column has made it an annual ritual to comment on the state of the nation on every anniversary of her independence. Ten years ago, the commentary was based on a dialogue I had with Opalaba who had expressed frustration about the achievement or lack of it of the nation at 50. In defence, I reiterated two important achievements of dear country: “Nigeria is at peace with herself and with her neighbors. Second, Nigeria has bounced back from being a pariah state to becoming a respected member of the world community.”

    My observation then was backed by available evidence. Of course, Nigeria in 2010 was not the proverbial paradise on earth. This column has always been critical of the security architecture of the nation, including calling attention to the growing challenges of armed robbery, cultism, and kidnapping. It is remarkable, however, that ten years ago, we still had a relatively peaceful country. At least, it was not a hellish abode that it is fast becoming before our eyes. How then is it that instead of making progress in the matter of securing the nation, we are retrogressing?

    My second point of defence of the nation against Opalaba’s criticism was that she had bounced back from a pariah state that she was during the military era and she was again becoming a respected member of the world community. Fast forward ten years, I still believe now that we are not what we were between 1984 and 1999. We are not a pariah state based on the form of government that we run. But we deceive ourselves if we believe that the world is not concerned about the state of our union and our capacity for managing our differences? Consider the many travel alerts issued by Western countries.

    In the last five weeks, this column has zeroed in on our various social institutions, including politics, religion, values and morals, law and order, and justice. The purpose of this exercise was to have an understanding of the weak links in our social-political existence. As it turns out, we have enormous challenges with the functioning of these institutions. And ten years ago, Opalaba’s diagnosis was prescient. Resisting my defence of the nation at 50, in his characteristic caustic bluntness, my friend noted thus:

    “Two inadequacies bedeviled Nigeria at independence and still impede the progressive development of the country 50 years later: Leadership and structure. Without a determined effort to address and redress the anomalies created by these, I do not see the country coming out of baby diapers in the next 50 years.” Ouch! Baby diapers? 50 years? He was uncouth. But I admit that there was, and still is, a kernel of truth, as bitter as it tastes, in my friend’s observations.

    With regard to the social institutions that I examined in recent weeks, one common thread in the matter of the dysfunction each of them displayed, the weak link in the chain of every one of them, is leadership. In politics, this is crystal clear, though leadership is far from being the sole determinant of the tragedy of our political institution. But if we are to solve the challenge, we need a new tool of analysis and a new focal lens to beam our searchlight on what it is and what ails it.

    Hitherto, our focus on leadership has concentrated attention on the central government and whoever occupies the highest seat of power. This conforms well to the understanding that the buck stops at the desk of the president. Added to this trite saying is that, in our case, we have a unitary system in federal garb with the presidency appearing as the be-all and end-all of our politics. If this is the case, the blame for where we are since at least the beginning of our new life in 1999 should be shared between the foursome of Obasanjo, Yar’Adua, Jonathan, and Buhari. But we all know it is more complex than that.

    The president is the overall leader of the nation. But there is a lot that he/she doesn’t have control over. The National Assembly (NASS) is made up of representatives freely chosen by the people. The members are equal partners in the governance of the nation. They share responsibility in budget making and approval. They make laws for good governance and can override a presidential veto. They have oversight functions on the agencies and departments of the executive. Their powers are enormous. In short, the National Assembly has leadership roles that cannot be brushed aside.

    The judiciary, on its part, is also an independent branch of government responsible for the interpretation of the law and for dispensing justice according to the letter and spirit of the constitution. While NASS serves as a check on the powers of the executive, the judiciary serves as a bulwark against the excesses of both the executive and NASS; and as the protector of the common citizen against the rich and powerful. Therefore, its leadership role, collectively and severally, is beyond doubt.

    We know all these. But what do we know about the way the discharge of these leadership roles has played out in real life? How often has our NASS only served as a rubber stamp for executive abuse of power? How many times has the judiciary been a willing tool in the hands of the executive?

    The challenges of the country are cumulative and, over the years, we have only been going from one depth of despair to another valley of hopelessness simply because leaders, in all these spheres, have failed to demonstrate their fitness for the job they fiercely sought and received.  In some cases, many have prioritized primordial attachments over the good of the nation. In others, it is religion. And in many cases yet, it is selfish greed that has been dominant in thought and practice. Multiply these over state and local governments and you’d appreciate the enormity of our national malaise.

    Lest anyone thinks that government functionaries have a monopoly of blame for our detestable condition, we should know that what ails them is the same malady that afflicts the leadership of quasi- and non-governmental agencies, including the educational sector as well as the private sector.

    Not many citizens would disagree with the observations above. Leadership matters. On this, however, this column has always also gone further to underscore the equally important challenge of followership. People get the leadership that they deserve. In a democracy, leaders impose themselves almost always with the connivance of followers. They use people to disrupt elections. Citizens take money and sell their votes. Voters return to office over and over again those who have disappointed them many times over. Who, then, is to blame for failure of leadership?

    Since its debut, this column has been in the forefront of the restructuring vanguard. It has stressed the need to pay attention to the warped structure that we have had since 1966. To no avail. Now, we are hearing a different lyric from the creative voices of Nigerians. They insist that it is past restructuring. Now, from the Southeast to the Southsouth and, lately, the Southwest, the battle cry of peaceful disintegration has rent the air of dear country.

    The driving force for this renewed agitation includes insecurity, abject poverty, structural imbalance and its attendant marginalization. Can and will leadership at all levels rise to the occasion and resolve these national problems before it is too late? Time will tell. However, one hopes that no one is deluded into thinking that the agitation will cease without urgent, meaningful and effective changes.

    Happy 60th Birthday, Nigeria!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Justice and a nation in troubled times

    Justice and a nation in troubled times

    Segun Gbadegesin

     

    Justice is the first virtue of social institutions, as truth is of systems of thought.”—John Rawls, A Theory of Justice

     

    THE quotation above is from the first chapter of the most influential work of, arguably, the most prominent political philosopher of the 20th century. Rawls also observes that no matter how elegant a theory is, it must be rejected if it is untrue. By the same token, he argues, “no matter how efficient and well-arranged laws and social institutions” are, they must be reformed or abolished if they are unjust.

    It is not just philosophers and political theorists that worry about justice. Indeed, the significance that theorists attach to the primacy of justice in society is derived from the common intuitions that they share with members of their societies. “No justice, no peace” is the rallying cry of the masses in every society from time immemorial. Injustice has been an unstoppable catalyst for revolutions worldwide.

    There is hardly a doubt that we all share common intuitions about many social issues, including especially the matter of justice, even if we are not all able to explain why our intuitions our true or reasonable. We just know that they are. We know, for instance, that it is unjust or unfair to rob others of their hard-earned goods. We believe that it is unfair to treat equals unequally. We feel confident that rigging an election is grossly unjust. We believe that power should not be concentrated in the hands of an individual or a group, no matter how good or efficient he, she, or they are. These are some of the intuitions behind the argument for the primacy of justice.

    We also know, however, that while we share these intuitions, we don’t always all conduct ourselves as if we believe them. We don’t always act upon the intuitions that we share. This may be due to what the Greek philosophers refer to as akrasia or weakness of the will. Having the strength of will to act on our conviction is itself a virtue which, unfortunately, not many have. And it is one of the challenges of our social and political life.

    A reason for this national challenge may not be unconnected with the mindset of a self-regarding understanding of power and its use. If you have power and you believe that no one can challenge your use of it, you are more likely to want to use it for your benefit or the benefit of your group, even if doing so is unjust and unfair to others. This mindset has been monumentally consequential for our social and political institutions since the beginning of the republic.

    Let me illustrate this challenge from a contemporaneous situation in the home of the brave, thousands of miles away. Four years ago, eight months to a presidential election, a new standard for nominating and consenting to the appointment of a new Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States was laid down by Senate Republicans: No nomination to fill a vacancy will be considered in an election year. Therefore, Senate Republicans refused to consider the nominee of President Obama to fill a vacant seat that year until after the inauguration of a new Republican President in 2017. And they asked to be held to that standard going forward.

    Fast forward four years. A vacancy was recently created just six weeks to a Presidential election. The same Senate Republican majority has now vowed to fill the vacancy as soon as the Republican president nominates a replacement. Is this not a double standard? Is this not thumping the opposition in the nose? How is this not just a naked use of raw power without moral compunction? How does this square with fairness?

    Back to the homeland, and there are uncountable replicas of the illustration above, from penal justice to distributive justice and to the abuse of power in the electoral system. By the way, we shouldn’t ever have the feeling that these are new developments in our system. We shouldn’t begrudge our colonial experience for the importation of unjust systems of governance. We deceive ourselves if we are ever nostalgic about a better tradition of justice. I will explain.

    The original Opalaba was a social critic in the old Oyo kingdom. He had accomplices in his friends Arohanran and Koru Oja. They poked fun at institutions they found unworthy. One day, Opalaba and his friends passed by the execution arena in town. Koru Oja observed that many innocent people had been executed at the arena: Ori yeye ni Mogun, alaise lo po ninu won. Arohanran agreed. Opalaba strongly objected, defending the fairness of the system.

    Later at night, Arohanran sneaked into the king’s palace where the king’s horses were kept. He took the king’s favorite horse, killed it, and grabbed the head as he trekked to Opalaba’s front-yard with blood spilling along the way. Morning dawned and pandemonium broke lose. Who dared perform this heinous act of killing the king’s favorite horse? And the culprit was so careless or carefree he left a trail of blood! Opalaba was arrested and taken to the king’s courtyard for judgment. Of course, death was certain.

    But the king did not act on the emotion of loss. He didn’t base his judgment on the lone side of his toadies. He asked for Opalaba’s story. As expected, Opalaba denied killing the royal horse. Fortunately for him, Arohanran came out, confessed and explained his motive, which was to confirm his belief that, as Koru Oja had told them, innocent people had been unjustly convicted and executed in the town. If he, Arohanran, didn’t confess, Opalaba would have been killed too. This meant that Arohanran would have to die. But the king exercised his prerogative of mercy, and ordered a reform of the system to ensure that innocent people were not unjustly convicted or killed in the course of justice.

    While Oyo was the better for the reform orchestrated by Opalaba and his friends, Nigeria, like many other post-colonial states, has remained a bedrock of a system of criminal justice that remains unfair and unjust.  Many innocents are languishing in our rotten jails, framed for offences they didn’t commit. And many have probably been killed. As Hubert Ogunde eloquently reminded us, “won gbebi falare, won gbare felebi.”  Many have suffered damage to their reputation because of unfair judgment based on false accusations. The Holy Book instructs us to let justice flow like water, and righteousness, like an unfailing stream.” We have failed terribly in this regard.

    In the matter of distributive justice, the nation has even been more cursed than blessed. We have a constitution, flawed as it is, which provides, among other things, that “the economic system is not operated in such a manner as to permit the concentration of wealth or the means of production and exchange in the hands of a few individuals or of a group;” and that “suitable and adequate shelter, suitable and adequate food, reasonable minimum wage, old age care and pensions, and unemployment, sick benefits and welfare of the disabled are provided for all citizens.”

    These provisions have been observed only in the breach. No one grudges the concentration of wealth in a few hands if it is a result of the hard-work of the individuals or groups. But we know that it is as a result of the rape of our common patrimony and an undue and unfair access through the abuse of political power. It is, therefore, impossible for the masses to reconcile themselves to this odious situation. They labor day and night to make ends meet only to discover that a few are making it unfairly through their exploitation of the system. What is more, they turn a blind eye on the constitutional requirement to provide for the helpless through the social distribution of the benefits of social life.

    With penal and distributive injustice at the core of our social life, ours has been a most vicious society crying for reform. If justice is a condition for peace, our national work is cut out for us.

     

    • For comments, send SMS to 08111813080

  • Law and a nation in troubled times

    Law and a nation in troubled times

    By Segun Gbadegesin

    From our discussion of values and morals and a nation in troubled times last week, today we move to the role of law, arguably the all-embracing and all-encompassing of all social institutions in the matter of social control and behavior regulation. It is also the most effective, though effectiveness, as we know, does not necessarily confer validity. My focus here is on law and its enforcement. Next week, we will discuss justice.

    In an ideal social setting, moral values will effectively regulate social conduct. But it is futile for society to base its expectations on an ideal setting which may never be real. Therefore, with the authoritative power of the state, laws are promulgated, presumably derived from, and founded upon, those moral values. Hence the belief that law and morality are inextricably linked, with the latter providing justification for the former.

    The claims in the last paragraph are weighty. First, on the assumed authoritative power of the state, many would object that the state uses raw power with no valid authority. This is especially true in the case of tyrants who identify the state with themselves. The presumption of the claim is that the people voluntarily grant authority to the state to govern them. Based on this authority, the state makes laws. But where this is not the case, as in a military takeover of state power, or in flagrantly rigged democratic elections, that authority is lacking and, therefore, the validity of law is suspect.

    The second assumption in the claim above is that the promulgated laws are derived from moral values and principles upheld by society and therefore law and morality as indissolubly linked. The assumption here relies on the goodness of the lawmakers; that they are consumed by altruism; that they are epitomes of moral courage; and that they are motivated only by patriotic zeal and the common good.

    This assumption is Rousseauean in nature. The idealist philosopher conceptualized a legislative forum in which each legislator rids him or herself of all the cravings of self-interest, focusing solely on the common good as he or she consults the general will for the right answer to a legislative question: what law is good for the common good in this situation? Won’t it be great if this is how legislation proceeds? But the reality of our experience is far different. Self-interest and group interest have been the dominant motivations in most legislatures across the world, this nation included.

    Let us start with the foundational instrument. No one can deny the influence of group interest, if not individual interest, on the deliberations that led to the adoption of the various constitutions up until the 1960 independence and 1963 republican constitutions. At first, it was the interest of the colonizers that was dominant. Then, as the nationalist struggle intensified, primordial, rather than national interest supervened. Argument over the most desirable system of government for a multi-ethnic, indeed, multi-national state like ours often degenerated into name-calling with unitarists attacking federalists as tribalists, using the language of the colonizers.

    In the end, however, reason prevailed and former antagonists and combatants adopted the federal system through negotiation, having recognized the good of the system for each of their groups. This is the logic of negotiation in a quasi-state of nature when the state had not yet existed and, therefore, there was no basis for thinking about the good of what was nonexistent in the negotiation for its existence. Each individual or group had to factor in its own interest. That the federal system was adopted meant that each group found it good for its wellbeing in the new state.

    Having adopted a system, federalism in this case, with all the details of its working for the good of each group, any departure from the agreed upon structure should normally be invalid unless the original agreement is renegotiated by the different parties. A unilateral adoption of a different structure is therefore problematic from legal and moral perspectives.

    Yet that was what happened on two levels in 1966. First level was the military takeover of government, which was an extraordinarily unconstitutional usurpation of power. Second level was the egregious and unilateral abandonment of the federal structure for the unitary structure which just happened to be conveniently consistent with the military’s command structure. This was the original sin for which there has been no repentance or restoration. By itself, it accounts for an unquantifiable proportion of the crisis in the nation’s troubled times.

    This reasoning is not difficult to validate. The founders knew that the Constitution was the foundation, which if faulty or wobbly, makes future trouble inevitable. Their thought was sound and was the basis for the new nation moving forward. Suddenly, military self-interest and command structure prevailed, and the basis of the original agreement was rendered null and void. But if the military was wrong, what about the civilians that subsequently took over from them? What have they done to redress the anomaly?

    Let us assume that there was a genuine belief by some groups that the structure agreed upon at the inception of the new nation was no longer desirable. What fairness dictates is to invite other groups to embark on a new round of negotiation that takes into account new realities. If the consensus is for a new structure, so be it. But no such renegotiation has been initiated talk less of a consensus. However, some groups, thinking solely about their group interests, and ignoring the interest of others, have simply imposed a new structure on every other group. How is there not to be trouble? This is where the nation is. The common good of the nation has been sidelined and truncated for sectional interests.

    The Psalmist’s rhetorical question is apt: If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do? A logically sound answer is that the righteous ones, like Nehemiah of old, have a duty to mobilize others to rebuild. Again, unfortunately, this has apparently not happened or any such efforts have been inadequate.

    Tragically, the collapse of the foundation also appears to have hastened the gradual demise of objective lawmaking. It is in legislative activities that the Rousseauean ideal actually makes sense. For once a political association in the form of a state has been formed, then every member must see themselves as an integral part of the body. They must therefore look at legislations in terms of the benefit and good of the state. Self-centered or sectional legislations are to be avoided because they will ultimately lead to trouble. Again, it is not difficult to see that this principle has not been adequately followed in our legislative activities in which the question: “what’s in it for me, my party, or my corner of the nation?” is prioritized over “what’s the good of the nation?” Examples abound.

    We are embarrassingly and regrettably described as a lawless people. In many cases, this is obviously true: driving against traffic, running red light, disobeying sanitation laws and regulations meant for our protection, etc. But if you give violators of such laws opportunity for defence or explanation, they’d have plenty to say. All laws are burdensome, but some are unjustifiably so. There are laws that don’t take into consideration the conditions that citizens are going through. Some laws lack moral validity because they place sectional interests above national interest.

    It is fair to observe, then, that we are not inherently a lawless people. A simple way to confirm this is to observe our nationals when they pay visits to or reside in other countries, compared to how they behave inside their own country. The difference can be explained in various ways. They aren’t happy with the system. They suffer and blame it on the system.

    Perhaps, however, the most serious source of our lawlessness is the inadequacy of our enforcement infrastructure with a grossly deficient police to population ratio. The debate about how best to correct this deficiency has been a harrowing experience since 1999. Hopefully, one day reason will prevail and law and its enforcement will take its proper place in a well-ordered society.

  • Values and a nation in troubled times

    Values and a nation in troubled times

    Segun Gbadegesin

     

    In the last few weeks, I have focused on the condition of the nation in these troubled times and the state of the institutions that are expected to make a difference. Two weeks ago, I highlighted politics. Last week, I examined religion. Today, I explore values in general, and morals in particular. How have our values contributed to the state of the nation?

    The Holy Bible teaches that “righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.” The Holy Koran identifies the characteristics of righteousness: “believing in God …giving wealth….freeing slaves….obligatory charity…fulfilling promises…patience in poverty and ailment…..it is those who are the righteous.” Our traditional spiritual resources are not far behind as an Odu Ifa proclaims: “Be truthful and be of good conduct because the divinities support the truthful.”

    Of course, I am not suggesting that our moral values come only from the Holy Books of our various faiths. Neither am I suggesting that only the faithful could be morally virtuous. We have numerous examples of individuals who have been moral exemplars without being religious. And there are many morally bankrupt leaders and followers in all faiths. Indeed, it is undeniable that some of our troubles as a nation are not unconnected with unabashed hypocrisy in high places as we operate bifurcated and contradictory modes of living inside and outside the church and mosque.

    What values do we hold dear traditionally and how have we evolved over the years? I think it is fair to observe that traditionally, we hold a potpourri of values and we hardly make a distinction between religious, cultural, and moral values because we see them as mutually supportive. Yet, it is useful to separate them. For instance, one of our cultural values is having many children. But traditionally having many children is useful because our ancestors placed instrumental value on them as sources of farm labor. That is, of course, seeing children as mere means to parents’ end of affluence. And when times change and western education became an important asset, having many children became a burden. Yet, many parents still held on to traditional cultural value with serious social and moral consequences for them and society.

    Religiously, we see Babalawos, Pastors, and Imams as representative of our various Supreme beings on earth. They minister to our spiritual needs and we are to follow their lead. But they are as human as we are, subject to human emotions and proclivities. Thus, when they let their emotions get the best of them, are we still supposed to follow the conduct they model at such times when they succumb to the dictate of the flesh? This week, I watched briefly a video of a pastor cursing on the pulpit, threatening to kill anyone who insulted his father. I assume that because of the veneration we have for our elders, especially those who sire us, this may be understood culturally, even if not encouraged. But is it acceptable religiously or morally?

    Moral values emanate from the moral life established by a moral tradition. Moral tradition is the customary way of life that establishes codes of conduct for a people and provides the guidance not just for individuals but also for associations and entrepreneurial organizations as they carry out their organizational goals and purposes. As I observed last week, this is how morality, law, and religion, function as institutions of social control. Every culture or society has these institutions and their success or failure is in direct proportion to the effectiveness of these institutions.

    Omoluabi is the central and overriding moral concept in the Yoruba moral tradition with counterparts in other traditions. Since I have made some observations on this concept in previous submissions on this page, I would only remind readers of few salient points. First, the Yoruba, like every tradition, is invested heavily in the future of its culture. Therefore, it makes serious efforts to inculcate its values in indigenes to guarantee its survival. Children are brought up in the knowledge and practice of these values. The successful culmination of such efforts is a cultured and morally upright individual referred to as omoluabi, the epitome of good character.

    Just as the youth are encouraged to be of good character, so are elders. We know, of course, that much as the effort is grounded in tradition, it doesn’t always end well. Thus, we have omokomo (youth of bad character) just as we have agbaiya (elders of abhorrent character). The goal of any society is to have a preponderance of youth and adults as omoluabi. Unfortunately, often, the reverse is the case and when society has a large proportion of omokomo and agbaiya, there is bound to be trouble, anxiety, and unrest.

    Is this such a time in the nation? With all the crises going on and what the nation is going through, is it out of place to infer that the absence of omoluabi culture is the culprit? Notice, of course, that were this to be the case, such an inference would not have exonerated any one individual, group, or organisation. There is enough blame to go round, and rightly so.

    Let us identify some of the entities in the tool box of the proverbial omoluabi. There is honesty or truthfulness. A professional colleague once remarked in a publication that Africans are generally dishonest people. I took serious offence because it overgeneralised. Recently, however, such generalised indictment is coming from within Africa herself in various forms, from drama videos to journalistic reports. Whether it’s the former or latter medium, they often reflect reality, cutting across groups and classes. And that is damning.

    How about moderation? There is reason why tradition advises a farmer to cover up his big yam tuber. It is to prevent unnecessary envy that may lead to avoidable conflict. But we are now in an ostentatious mode of existence in which we open for the whole world to see our success as predators of a common patrimony. I watched, with sympathy for the pettiness of spirit, a former senator gleefully displaying his hundreds of wristwatches, numerous shoes, and gold-trimmed suitcases in a video. I have never seen a hard-working industrialist or businessperson who made his or her money in the traditional way flaunt such opulence for public consumption. But that is where we are as a nation.

    Integrity is the capacity for consistency, the ability to follow through with promises voluntarily made, an essential quality for individuals as for groups, including political organizations. Our word should be our bond and promises made must be kept. Otherwise, society cannot operate because it would be difficult to function without the ability to rely on the words and pronouncements made by others.

    Finally, an omoluabi is a selfless person with fire in the belly to do exploits for the community and make the supreme sacrifice if necessary. He or she doesn’t seek the good of the self ahead of the common good. He or she serves with a clear conscience.

    We are such in dire straits because selfish greed has taken over the communal spirit and many citizens feel forsaken, abandoned, lied to, and taken for a ride. The omoluabi philosophy is under attack. Dishonesty and promise breaking are the new norm in politics. But a policy of dishonesty is simply counter-productive. We are witnesses to the reality that if a political party relies on a strategy of dishonesty and promise-breaking, it may have a temporary success, but it will ultimately lose big when its modus operandi is revealed.

    Our republican system of government has taken over the role of traditional communities. In this system, political parties, like age-grade associations, moderate conduct and set national agenda. Therefore, they must be above board. Dwight D. Eisenhower was right: “If a political party does not have its foundation in a determination to advance a cause that is right and that is moral, then it is not a political party; it is merely a conspiracy to seize power.” (my emphasis) Translation: politics is inherently a moral practice. Our national crisis is consequent upon how we have disconnected the two.

     

  • Religion and a nation in troubled times

    Religion and a nation in troubled times

    By Segun Gbadegesin

    Last week, I made the case, as if one was needed, for the claim that this nation is going through some hard times. I identified politics as a force, negative and positive, to be reckoned with and called to account, in the troubled condition of the nation. But as I also noted, while politics is supposedly the architectonic in the grand scheme of things, with an assumed built-in capacity to make things right, human nature has unfortunately ensured that the political class is incapable, without external assistance, to soar majestically like an eagle in the direction of redemption.

    Today, I would like to interrogate one of the institutions which has been identified as the antithesis of the political institution, supposedly with little to none of its negative characteristics, and, therefore, boasting of an inherent capacity to serve as an antidote to the foibles of politics. I have in mind the institution of religion.

    One of my pet theories, which I have pushed in professional forums, is that politics, religion, law, and morality, are a powerful quartet in the realm of social institutions with similar purpose and objectives. They are created for the purpose of promoting the peace and order of communities and nations. To the extent that they succeed, this purpose is well served. Otherwise, communities are in danger of collapse. To avoid such a calamity, each of these institutions serves in various ways, formally or informally, to make up for the excesses or deficits of the others. Religion and morality are especially effective in this regard, the former more than the latter for obvious reasons.

    A useful approach to the matter at hand is to go back to the origin of our tradition to investigate the role of religion in its management. Years ago, in African Philosophy, I noted how traditional religion in Yorubaland in particular, and Africa in general, served as a rallying point of the community and how it promoted the peace of the land. For, with no mandate for evangelization or proselytisation, rivalry is absent among the followers of the various deities.

    Most significantly, the priests and priestesses, believing in the unforgiving power of their deities to punish waywardness and oath-breaking, spoke truth to power without minding whose ox was gored. Not infrequently, as tradition required, in case of a vacancy created by the demise of an Oba, Ifa oracle was consulted to determine who the best choice was. Or in an outbreak of pestilence, a priest must determine the cause and what needed to be done for the health of the community. In all these, the truth, and nothing but the truth, was the sworn obligation of the priest or priestess. And the community and its leaders had the utmost trust in and respect for the sincerity of their intercessional efforts.

    Needless to add, we have since moved on from the primacy of priests and priestesses of traditional religion in communal affairs, to embrace the Abrahamic faiths in their various iterations. Recently, in an otherwise polemical attack on a cultural and intellectual icon, we have what should pass as one of the most unabashed defenses of that movement. We were urged to see our traditional cultures as pagan-infested and therefore abhorrent, and our new religious faiths as the best of modernity, and thus a movement from darkness to light. As my friend observed, the vituperation amounted to a shameless “dressing up of cultural inferiority”. But I put that aside.

    The pressing question we must address now is this: How have our adoption of Abrahamic faiths fared in dealing with the important task of promoting peace and order in the multi-national and multi-faith context of our troubled times? Incidentally, with the leadership of IPOB’s recent embrace of Judaism, we may now boast of having the three Abrahamic faiths represented in the land. What can we show for this feat? What has been our experience?

    A most visible and undeniable aspect of our experience is that these Abrahamic faiths, from their inception, with the exception of Judaism, the newest arrival, have their focus on proselytization and evangelization, the perceived means of saving souls, which is the ultimate goal. This has the prospect of keeping adherents tethered to the principles of inner conviction and external conduct which are well-suited for the peace of the community. If the Christian beatitude and its counterpart in Islam were to be embraced by all, we would have the semblance of paradise on earth.

    However, beside the fact of the stony nature of the human heart, the proselytization imperative of Islam and Christianity almost invariably ensures that friction and conflict are wired into the fabric of our national existence. Therefore, despite a common belief in the religio-ethical teachings of both, adherents of the two faiths have hardly seen eye to eye. Rivalry and envy have stood in the way of a common approach to national peace. Indeed, it is arguable that, in a counter intuitive respect, given the fundamental tenets of each, the two religions have proved themselves to be stumbling blocks in the way of peaceful relations in recent times. Petty rivalries having nothing to do with the principles of each religion ensure that this is the case.

    The task of forging peace in a multi-religious political environment is made more daunting when there is a perception of partiality on the part of the political authorities, as ingrained rivalry ensures that every move of a governor or president is seen from the prism of religious favoritism. The ongoing tragedy of Southern Kaduna is a case that breaks the heart. How, in the name of religion, human beings could act below the standard of beasts is mind-boggling. But that is where we are in the life of a nation draped in the garment of fake religiosity.

    The political exploitation of religious sentiments by politicians and their hangers on haven’t helped matters. Where leadership is required to correct false impressions, we have many leaders behave as followers down the path of insanity.

    The prophets of old were notable for their boldness in fighting social injustice, standing firm against corrupt civil authorities, often suffering the worst fate of loss of life, which they didn’t consider a loss because they would have saved their souls. In our time, we have also witnessed the boldness of faith in some of our religious leaders as they speak truth to power. Unfortunately, however, we have also seen too many impostors and false prophets with huge followings whom they indoctrinate and lead astray. With emphases on worldly prosperity, they forget the main message of the scripture which is to lay our treasures in heaven. Their message corrupts and pollutes with unimaginable consequences for the peace of the land.

    In other cases, in an apparent pivot to the political leaders of their liking, some prophets in the evangelical mode delve into divisive social issues with no redeeming spiritual value. In some cases, such issues tend to appropriate the language of oppression which the powerful have always deployed for the marginalization of the weak, or worse, the enslavement of their minds.

    How, for instance, does the representation of blackness in the discourse of faith square with the experience of black people? How should we understand the pronouncement from the pulpit that blackness is evil? Is a black person to repudiate his or her skin color to avoid been a subject of evil? An obviously non-religious singer was bold enough to affirm the positivity of his blackness. That was James Brown. Another was philosophical enough to preach the gospel of emancipation from mental slavery. That was Bob Marley. For them, what we make of any color is what it is.

    Of course, it is true that the ideas of the ruling class have always shown up as the ruling ideas. So if the enslavers from the ancients to the contemporaries effectively categorized black as evil in order to subjugate black people as their properties, does that make them right? Aren’t we told in the scripture that the One who made them all made them well and saw them all as good?  God help us!

  • Politics and the nation in troubled times

    Politics and the nation in troubled times

    Segun Gbadegesin

     

     

    In the life of the nation, these are not normal times. These are troubled times. Many may consider this as an understatement. They may suggest something more dramatic. These are calamitous times.

    I concur. What with the unending spate of violence from terrorism to banditry, kidnapping, cultism and armed robbery? Or the hopelessness, an avoidable affliction of the youth? Or the hunger across all ages and vulnerable demographics? And the scourge of the global pandemic that respects no class or creed? The stress that all these create for our people in daily struggles of life is unfathomable. Yet they lumber on, hoping and praying for better times.

    As it is to be expected, there are some who would see the above depiction of our current experience as a hyperbole. And they may be right. The nation has had other troubled times. Indeed, many would argue that in its calamitous character, these times pale in comparison with earlier times.

    In truth, since her becoming, Nigeria has gone from one major crisis to another, and through it all, the same set of people, the vulnerable among us, have suffered the most. Think of the first republic and its political violence that pitted the poor against the poor. Think of the pogrom of 1966. Think of the civil war. Or the thousands that perish or suffer indignities in the crisis of June 12 1993 and beyond. The point, then, is that trouble hasn’t left this country alone in her checkered journey to nationhood.

    Let us admit that the nation and trouble have been in an undesirable companionship for as long as she has existed. On the assumption that we find it desirable that the nation endures, a reasonable and commonsensical follow-up to this admission suggests two questions: what is the source of the trouble? How can it be extricated or removed? Of course, it is also possible that the preceding assumption is false; in which case, we should just give it up. Why keep deceiving ourselves on the matter of nationhood?

    Let us explore a bit more the truth-value of the last narrative on the assumption that we find it desirable that the nation endures. Is it true or false? How are we to tell? The unity of the fight against colonial rule and the success of that fight despite all its ugliness? The determination of the military to keep the nation united culminating in the end of the civil war and the “no victor, no vanquished” declaration, which seemingly meant every nationality is once again a member of the multinational family? The resolution of the June 12 election crisis and the final end to military adventure in politics? Each of these appears to be critical moments of renewal of faith in the nation and together they signal a desire to proceed as one united entity.

    Yet, however, each of those moments has also been followed by setbacks of enormous proportions. A sequel to the nationalist struggle saw the harassment of the West and the humiliation of its hero in detention and prison jail. The first coup and the ensuing civil war and military rule witnessed the most devastating influence of politics on the military and its attendant fatal corrupt grip on esprit de corps. The resolution of the June 12 debacle is still a work in progress which, while appearing to have curbed military adventurism, has yet to resolve the root of our national dilemma: to be or not to be?

    To be clear, then, the truth value of the assumption that we find it desirable for the nation to endure is not completely positive. Look around and observe the various self-determination groups in action. IPOB is the most active and visible. There are reports of its foray in the international arena seeking recognition. Yoruba World Congress (YWC) is not far behind with its registration with Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organization (UNPO). What began as calls for restructuring in the early 90s is fast becoming demands for self-determination by various sub-national units.

    But the truth value of the assumption is also not completely negative. This is especially true of the political and business class who believe that a united Nigeria is a desirable ideal worth fighting for. They see the nation as an African juggernaut with a great potential for driving the continent’s economic and industrial revolution in the 21st century and beyond. They therefore focus on policies that they consider to be the effective means toward the achievement of that end.

    Unfortunately, however, this politics of means eventually collides with the realities that they deliberately or inadvertently choose not to countenance. And this is where our politics of means is at logger head with our troubled times.

    Consider the fact that it has been 21 years since the return of civil politics and we have hardly achieved a substantial or noteworthy breakthrough in economic advancement. Sure, we have a breakthrough in communications with the GSM explosion. But our focus on infrastructure, which should lead any economic and industrial revolution, has only received much needed attention in the last six years.

    Neither have our foreign policy achievements been particularly spectacular. At various points since independence, we have made Africa the centerpiece of our foreign policy. That is the way it should be because of our understanding of our place as the giant of the continent. But we have not always matched our understanding with the action it requires. We have not related to the African Diaspora as our smaller cousin to the West has. The undertones of disunity and insecurity that foreign investors perceive from the signals that we inadvertently send out have not been especially helpful.

    Nonetheless, the politics of means fires on on all cylinders, looking neither through the side mirrors nor the back view. Far be it from me to suggest an ulterior motive to this politics. I want to believe in the decency of the heart of every politician. I want to believe that everyone means the best for the country. I want to trust that each means what he or she says in the oath of allegiance to the constitution of the republic. What I want to suggest, however, is that we ponder the possibility, indeed, the probability, that our best intentions may not always be right or conducive to the health of the nation and its future well-being.

    In the battle for political ascendancy, we employ and deploy every tool in our toolkit. We deploy every weapon in our arsenal just to make it victoriously. Do we ever ask the question: Is this in the interest of the nation? What is missing? What is needed right now to heal the nation so that it moves forward as a united entity? But these are the right questions to ask. And if the political class is too engrossed with winning such that it finds itself crippled beyond redemption to ask these questions, then it should fall on the part of some other entity to step in.

    What entity? What group? Over the years, ethnic nationalities have raised issues that speak to their particular fears and interests almost always in isolation from the fears and interests of others. They have sought others with similar interests and fears while demonizing those they consider to be “enemies”. However, it should be clear that we have reached such a point in this our national lifeboat that we either stay afloat together or sink together. The choice is ours. Going to another civil war is obviously not an option. No one will come out swinging!

    A Yoruba adage observes that when elders are around, a newly born baby doesn’t come off with a crooked head shape. Clearly, Nigeria is a baby, not only with a crooked head shape, but with one that severely aches. Partisan politics of means cannot fix this aching head. It will only aggravate it. But there are selfless elders, including intellectuals, professionals, traditional rulers and God-fearing clerics, across all geopolitical zones. They cannot take sides. It is their duty to intervene before this crooked and aching head bursts beyond repair.

     

  • What are we?

    What are we?

    By Segun Gbadegesin

    Readers may have two questions regarding my title today. First, you may wonder what is the reference population, “we”. Second, you may ponder what triggers my question. With regard to the second question, you may wonder “what is going on inside the head of the questioner?” These are legitimate questions, which themselves are triggered by the presumably strange nature of the question. How does anyone ask what we are if the questioner doesn’t also entertain a doubt about our humanity?

    Your guess about the questioner’s motivation is spot on. But why that motivation? Why entertain doubt about our humanity? Kindly allow your imagination the freedom to cruise around like a bird in the air. Consider with me the possible competing answers to the question, and maybe we will come to a common understanding of our predicament.

    That leaves the question “what is the reference population, “we”? Simply put, my reference population obviously includes me and it includes you, my reader, especially if you are perceived, and perceive yourself, as an African in general, but in particular, as an African descendant of the continent’s most populous nation-state, Nigeria. What are we?

    Let us attempt a process of elimination. Are we stones and pebbles? On the face of it, this is insulting, isn’t it? Stones and pebbles have no blood running their veins. Damn it, they don’t even have veins! Why attempt to identify us with them? They don’t hustle as we do. They have no worries as we have. They simply follow the laws of nature without the ability to formulate any of theirs. They have no consciousness and no self-awareness.

    We gloat in our superiority over stones and deal with them as we like. We crush and grind them for our use. We feel no guilt in what we do to them because we assure ourselves that they feel no pain. Therefore, it is alright how we treat them. So, a question: When we do to those of our kind what we do to stones, do we just pass them off as stones? If so, and if there is no difference between those of our kind and us, don’t we just then similarly identify ourselves as stones? Do we also will that we be treated as we treat them? Isn’t this what the logic of consistency requires?

    How about logs of wood? They are inert and non-sentient, without reason or emotions, all of which we boast having as our unique properties. Therefore, we are not logs of wood, which we treat as mere means to our ends. But, without compunction, we treat others of our kind as if they are logs of wood. It is also important for us to acknowledge our role in the status of inertness acquired by logs of wood. After all, a log is a felled tree, thanks to human action.

    But what are trees? Are they sentient or conscious? We are not used to thinking of trees as sentient beings. However, in the last eighty years, scientific research has provided ample evidence that, like animals and humans, trees are super communicators and sentient beings, with intelligence, and the ability to pass information inter-generationally. And this is not exclusive to big trees as botanists have also established that plants as apparently tender as tomatoes do produce electrical signals to cause change in other parts of the plants. This suggests that the lack of brain does not preclude intelligence. So much then for our superiority complex.

    So, we are not plants or trees, but trees and plants are not necessarily inferior. However, we treat them as such. More importantly, we tend to treat those that share the same properties of brain intelligence with us as we treat plants and trees. We cut them down in their prime. We do to them what plants and trees don’t do to themselves. One scientific research finds that plants and trees take care of their offspring by transferring signals for survival to them. For our kind, education happens to be one of the ways that our brain intelligence suggests we could ensure the survival of our offspring and preserve their future. Instead, however, we choose to deliberately fail their future. We are not plants and trees, but we behave less intelligently and more greedily and cruelly than plants and trees.

    Moving to traditionally acknowledged sentient beings, from the tiny ants under our feet to the pets that we keep, there is even more glaring evidence of our depravity vis-à-vis those we despise. The Holy Scripture that endows us with that pride of superiority also directs us to learn from ants and follow their lead in the matter of industry. But rather than see our greed as a clarion call to hard work, we see it as rationale for plundering or eliminating others. Hobbes was right. Our pets are more loyal than we can ever dream of being. The “me-mentality” which motivates greed keeps regenerating itself.

    You say to me that we are not fish and beast of the water or wild animals in the forest. And I ask, how are you so sure? What do they do that we aren’t capable of doing at a more alarmingly damaging rate? The lions, tigers, and hyenas of this ecosystem of ours can even be exonerated of wrongdoing in the “crime” of cannibalism. They cannot help it because nature doesn’t avail them of alternatives. But how do we characterise human cannibals other than as animals in human clothing? More importantly, we know that animals don’t kill their kind for sport. So-called humans unfortunately do. A whole industry of weaponry is created for the purpose.

    What is more, so-called wild animals sometimes show more kindness and empathy to their human cousins than we show to each other. A bear in a zoo was seen taking care of a human baby who accidentally fell into its den. A lion was seen in New York looking sympathetically at a young woman who taunted him in his den. In an adorable video, a baby elephant was seen rushing to help a human swimmer who he thought was drowning.

    This nation is reeling under an unending epidemic of violence and insecurity in which we are victims, not of wild animals, but of human-on-human violence in the celebrated continent of “humane” animals.

    Without warning, I opened a video from an elder and I will never be the same again. A young woman was in a tank top and a pair of shorts. She was struggling on the bare floor with her hands tied behind her back. Her attackers whipped her mercilessly. Then suddenly one of them, brandishing a machete struck her on the neck. Then a second time. Blood gushed out. She died.

    Another young woman and her fiancé were returning from their farm. They were ambushed by Fulani kidnappers close to Lanlate. They tried to escape but were out-maneuvered by the hoodlums. The young man was gunned down for daring to escape. The woman was captured, taken to the bush and brutalised until ransom was paid. No one has been found or charged. A young dreamer’s life was cut short.

    Rape is the new norm in the land of mega churches and mosques. Even not a few clerics see their calling as entailing the victimisation of their women congregants. And many cases of incestuous rape have been reported. What has become of the humanity that we so much flaunt as a badge of superiority?

    Hobbes observes that nothing distinctive should be read into human rationality because, left to itself, it seeks the good of the self. In the state of nature, which is simply a state without a controlling authority, individual reasoners will discover that it is in their self-interest to form a political association with an authority to regulate activities. This is the warrant for the state—to make and enforce laws for security.

    What is the business of having a state without the capacity to secure the lives of its citizens? What we are is an imperfect specimen of humanity. The state exists as a bulwark against human imperfection. Ours is failing.

  • Freedom from reason

    Freedom from reason

    Segun Gbadegesin

     

    I TAKE my topic today from my late professor, Marcus G. Singer. It was the title of his review of an ethics book, Freedom and Reason (Oxford, 1963), by R. M. Hare. In the book, Hare had argued that “one of the most important constituents of our freedom, as moral agents, is the freedom to form our own opinions about moral questions, even if that involves changing our language.”

    Moral philosophers have been at logger heads regarding the status of moral questions and moral judgments. Are they statements of facts? Are they prescriptive statements? Do they make any sense? Are they deductions of reason? Hare thought that there “can be no logical deduction of moral judgments from statements of fact.” From “You just killed an innocent person” we cannot deduce “That’s bad of you” or “that’s wrong of you.” Or from “Mask wearing saves lives” we cannot deduce “Everyone ought to wear masks.”

    The import of that position is that “we are free to form our own moral opinions” and, unlike opinions about facts, our moral opinions do not have to agree with the moral opinions formed by others. The fact that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west is established. But that is not the case with moral statements.

    In his review, Marcus Singer thought Hare’s position was strictly not a reconciliation of freedom and reason, but rather, a quest for freedom from reason. In other words, what Hare did was to set us free from the directive of reason. But it is a dangerous move because we are rational beings, and without the guidance of reason, humanity is bound to self-destruct.

    Philosophy, in general, has not always been seen as relevant to real life. But at its inception in Greek and Ancient Egyptian systems, moral philosophy aimed at the good life with a focus on how to live well. In the late 19th to early 20th century, however, this uniqueness of moral philosophy was questioned by philosophers who insisted that any attempt to make moral statements or give moral judgments was nonsensical. Philosophy must be about analysis of concepts and not about normative claims. This debasement of normative moral philosophy in the name of conceptual analysis is, for Singer, an abandonment of reason.

    There is a sense in which academic controversies in general, and philosophical controversies in particular are mirrors of society. There is no better evidence for this observation than what is going on around the world in the onslaught of the coronavirus pandemic, and Singer’s coinage of the phrase “freedom from reason” aptly captures the current predicament of humanity. While we can certainly find ample evidences of our collective abandonment of reason in every corner of the world, there is no better place to look now than in the most advanced, richest, and most intellectually endowed of all 21st century societies, the US of A.

    But, you may ask, what is wrong about getting relief from the dictate of reason? Why do we need the guidance of reason and who or what makes reason master over us? While these may appear as ridiculous, if not rebellious, questions, they are legitimate. Indeed, philosophers have not been shy to raise them, and quite a bunch, including the Scottish philosopher David Hume, have ridiculed the impotence of reason in the presence of passion. Yet the vast majority stick to the property of rationality that defines our humanity and insist that, as such, reason must sanction our conduct.

    It is hard to dispute the significance of following reason. Strictly, this means having sound reasons in support of our actions, and where we encounter a reason better than ours, we shouldn’t hesitate to abandon ours in favor of the better one. We should not let our emotion and passion, which could be subjective, dictate our conduct. This is especially true and important where our conduct have consequences for our wellbeing and the welfare of others. Thus, even when I crave with passion the taste of red wine, I should not indulge in excessive drinking if I also have to drive. Even if there is no law against drinking and driving, reason dictates that I should avoid it. It is this dictate of reason that the law codifies.

    The United States of America is the iconic land of the free and the home of the brave. It is therefore not unexpected that freedom would be honored, respected, and protected. Leave free or die. In particular, the liberal conception of freedom as absence of constraint is the reigning conception of freedom in the West, the United States included. Therefore, any constraint, legal, regulatory, or moral, is considered an obstacle to be avoided, or if impossible to avoid, merely tolerated without total acceptance.

    In other words, what reason dictates and is codified in laws, regulations, and morals, freedom may at best tolerate or, at worst reject.

    It is now common knowledge that the United States accounts for the most cases of coronavirus infection in the entire world. As of this week, there are more than 5 million cases and more than 160,000 deaths. It is extraordinary, given that here is one of the most advanced nations technologically, educationally, and politically. The U.S. has led the world in the number of Nobel Laureates in every sphere of learning. So, why has it also led in these negative statistics?

    There are two approaches to understanding the debacle that has been the lot of the US in this pandemic situation. One, which only a few would find controversial, is the governance philosophy that has predominated in the nation since 2016. This philosophy downplayed the severity of the pandemic, dismissed it as a hoax; insisted that it was going to disappear, and contradicted the experts at every point. With a laser focus on his reelection, the president was publicly reluctant about a lockdown, even if temporary, that can slow down the economy. Yet, the experience of other industrialized nations has demonstrated that the most effective approach was what the president of the United States was hesitant to adopt. Consider New Zealand.

    As it has turned out, the US economy has suffered severely. Millions have lost their jobs; the country is in the worst recession since the Great Depression; and there is no end in sight.

    But there is a second approach to understanding the US predicament, and it has to do with the obsession with freedom. Face mask wearing and social distancing are proven preventives against the spread of the virus. But thousands of Americans have continuously and perilously shunned the recommendation of public health experts about mask wearing. And these people have been supported and applauded by some local and state leaders in some states and counties controlled by the president’s party as well as by the president himself.

    A Florida Sheriff banned the wearing of masks for all deputies and visitors. His reason? Masks make it difficult to identify people, and with “anti-police sentiment”, “someone might enter the sheriff’s office with nefarious purpose and be unidentifiable with a mask”. Does this make sense? Another Florida city-council passed a mandatory mask ordinance. It was vetoed by the mayor because “his constituents don’t want a mask ordinance.” It is the most vivid, if dangerous, illustration of the exercise of freedom from reason.

    Widespread testing and contact tracing are the other two tested approaches to combating the virus. But the President has argued ad infinitum that more testing means more cases, and less tests mean less cases as if it is testing that causes people to get infected. He has therefore asked for less testing, publicly demanding that his team must “slow down the testing.” But the President and his aides get tested frequently. So does whoever has a physical appointment with him. However, some animals are less equal than others, and the unfortunate ones get sick and, not too infrequently, die. That was the lot of a prominent leader who attended the Oklahoma rally, shunned mask wearing, caught the virus, and passed on.

    In the land of freedom, exercising the freedom from reason has dire national and personal consequences.

     

     

    • For comments, send SMS to 08111813080

     

     

  • Parakoyi’s glorious exit

    Parakoyi’s glorious exit

    By Segun Gbadegesin

    “How have the mighty fallen and the weapons of war have perished!”

    I was away from this page in the month of July for an overdue rest and much needed bodywork. A few days after my last column in June, the Grim Reaper struck with a vengeance, taking away a number of prominent personalities from us. Among them was Sir (Chief) Bode Akindele (CBA), Parakoyi of Ibadanland, Knight of John Wesley, Baba Ijo of Methodist Cathedral, Agbeni, Ibadan; founder of Modandola Group (Nigeria), Fairgate Group (Europe), and a global business icon. His gallant exit is an occasion for the celebration of his life and unique business model.

    Born in 1933, by age 10, while still in elementary school, CBA had developed his business sense, following in the footsteps of his mother, a successful business woman of her era. He started by saving part of his pocket money and diverting it to the business of buying and selling coconut candies to his peers. According to the elders, omo ti yio je Asamu, lati kekere lo ti n jenu samusamu. Morning shows the day. This was one element of the CBA model: Start early, start small. I once discussed with him my plan on starting a business after retirement. He laughed it off and warned against investing my retirement benefits in a venture that will fail. “Stay in your lane; it’s too late to venture into business”, he said with the finality of an expert.

    A second aspect of his business model was “godliness.” We cynically mock the combination of godliness and business. The goal of business is profit maximization, which entails charging exorbitantly and disproportionately to cost. Surely, this cannot be godly. Yet, a businessman whose focus is godly business has ample resources for guidance. “You must not act deceptively or lie to one another” is God’s injunction in Leviticus 19:11. In verse 13 of the same chapter, we read that “the wages of a hired hand must not remain with you until morning.” Luke 10:7 declares that “laborers deserve their pay.” Above all, the Golden Rule is as applicable to the business world as to the non-business world. CBA knew that he had to be in tune with his God, and he made God’s instructions his guidelines in business and industry. Thus, his autobiography is appropriately titled “I Did it God’s Way.”

    A third element of CBA’s business model is what has become known in recent times as corporate social responsibility. However, prior the recent popularisation of this concept, CBA had been in the lead in taking responsibility for the less privileged among us. For, as a child of God, he has internalized the teaching of his Master in the Parable of the Sheep and the Goat in Matthew 25:31-46. Here, Jesus taught that when we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick and the prisoner, and take in the stranger, we do it for him. And if we don’t, it is counted against us, and the consequence is eternal condemnation.

    Without fanfare, Bode Akindele Foundation (BAF) undertook numerous charity projects for the benefit of educational institutions, church organisations, and non-profit organisations that cater for the less privileged and the least advantaged. A good number of them offered testimonials with hearts of gratitude in the events that celebrated his life last week.

    A final aspect of CBA’s business model that I would like to identify is neutrality in partisan politics and an aversion to partisanship. CBA knew that it was never in the interest of business to mix it with partisan politics. Indeed, it appears that it was not just the mixture of business and partisan politics that he was averse to. He was wary of partisan political competition, period. I recall that a well-intentioned effort was made to attract me to electoral contests early in this republic. The respected political leaders involved had approached Chief Akindele so he can talk to me about it. However, before he even talked to me, he had counseled against the idea. And when he talked to me, he told me that he had told them that he did not support the idea. He gave them the reasons which he also gave me. I agreed with him.

    Note here that the emphasis is on partisan politics. For politics, in its generic sense is inescapable, even for a godly business. After all, political decisions impact business in spectacular ways. Indeed, one of the political decisions of the military administration in the early 1970s was the indigenisation decree, which promoted indigenous businesses. And with Nigeria’s pariah status in the 90s, indigenous businesses suffered tremendous hardship. Therefore, businesses naturally have an interest in policies coming out of governmental decisions. And they can have influence on such decisions if they are not seen as partisans. This was Chief Akindele’s model of business-government relationship.

    Furthermore, CBA was also a democrat to the core. Not many Nigerians were aware of Chief Akindele’s contributions to pro-democracy struggles against the military after the annulment of the 1993 presidential elections. He didn’t make any noise about it, but he supported wholeheartedly with his resources. Indeed, he was a great benefactor of Egbe Isokan Yoruba in Washington, DC.

    Of course, good intentions did not always turn out well in the realm of politics. That was the case with his willingness to patriotically answer the call to invest in the privatisation program of the government in the early years of the Fourth Republic. The efforts of his group to buy NITEL were frustrated, and it was not a good experience. In January 2009, mid-way between his 75th and 76th birthday, CBA reflected on that experience with a public thanksgiving in which he gave testimony to the faithfulness of God for seeing him through that dark hour.

    “How are the mighty fallen and the weapons of war perished!” This was the reaction of young David to the tragic death, in battle, of King Saul and his son, Jonathan. The Philistines had killed Jonathan and wounded his father. Saul, not wanting the Philistines to have the pleasure of killing him, requested his armor bearer to do it instead. When he refused, Saul fell on his sword and died. The armor bearer followed suit.

    An Amalekite man, wanting to take credit, ran to David to give him the “good news” falsely claiming that he had killed Saul at Saul’s request. David was devastated. He tore his clothes in mourning for Saul and Jonathan. He turned to the young Amalekite and asked: “How is it that you were not afraid to lift your hand to destroy the Lord’s anointed?” Though Saul had pursued David with untiring efforts to kill him, David saw Saul as God’s anointed, and he ordered the Amalekite killed for “confessing” to killing Saul.

    David paid glowing tributes to Saul and Jonathan. They were warriors of national and international repute. “Jonathan’s bow never retreated. Saul’s swords never returned unstained.” Now, the mighty have fallen. The weapons of war have perished. As a man of war himself, this was David’s sorrow.

    We are aware of the exploits of Chief Bode Akindele in global business and industry. He was not awarded the title of Parakoyi for nothing. Traditionally, Parakoyi is the Chief of commerce in Yorubaland. He carried that title around the world with diligence, dignity and integrity. In his tribute last week, General Oluwole Rotimi recalled that his own brother had withdrawn from working with CBA because, according to him, CBA was like “a slave driver.” Well, the truth is that CBA drove himself like a slave. That was his work ethic: Eniti ko le se bi alaaru lona Ijebu ko le se bi Adegboro loja Oba.

    As David himself demonstrated with his victories, the weapons of war did not perish with Saul and Jonathan. Let us pray that with Parakoyi’s transition to glory, diligence, dignity, and integrity, the tested weapons of godly business, have not been interned with him.

    You earned your rest, Baba. However, Oku olomo kii sun. You must watch over your loved ones as they stay in the path of diligence, dignity, and integrity. Adieu!

     

     

  • Egbe Omo Yoruba and the memory of June 12

    Egbe Omo Yoruba and the memory of June 12

    Segun Gbadegesin

     

    EGBE Omo Yoruba North America (Egbe) is the leading organization in North America for the social, cultural, and economic interests of the Yoruba. Recently, the leadership of the organization commemorated the 27th anniversary of the Nigerian Presidential election of June 12, 1993, which was adjudged the freest and fairest in the history of elections in Nigeria. Won by Chief M. K. O. Abiola, the Ibrahim Babangida military regime annulled the election, the first such blatant act of injustice in the history of the country.

    As one of the organizations that celebrated the fairness of the elections and the victory of Chief Abiola, Egbe stood firm against the annulment, committing its human and material resources to fighting it alongside many partners including NALICON, UDFN, NADECO Abroad, and others. For the reason of its deep involvement in the struggle for the validation of Abiola’s mandate, Egbe and June 12 became like Siamese twins. It was not unusual in those days for mockers to introduce our members as Mister or Madam June 12.

    Egbe wore such mockery as a badge of honor. And for 27 years, the National Executive Council and members have held events commemorating the struggle for the validation of that election, which ended unfortunately in July 1998 with the death of Chief Abiola. Thus, on Friday June 12, 2020, under the leadership of Dr. Odimayo Akindutire, Egbe invited its founding members far and near, and Yoruba leaders from other regions to a Zoom conference in celebration of the day and for reflections on the struggle and its aftermath. Appropriately titled “June 12, A Mirror of Our Polity: How Far We Have Come and Where are We Going?” its objective was to discuss lessons learnt from the struggle and its outcome in light of the politics of the 4th Republic.

    Given my own investment of time and resources in that struggle, my subsequent observation of events after the death of Chief Abiola, and my personal disappointment with the political wilderness in which the country found herself post-1999, my preference was to attend the conference and just listen. Unfortunately for me, President Akindutire insisted that I must not only speak but also keynote the session. I thank him for the honor.

    My short keynote focused on the theme of justice and injustice. I observed that the Yoruba have always been in the forefront of the struggle for justice because they are strongly averse to injustice. I argued that the reason that the Yoruba people so intensely engaged in the struggle against the annulment of the June 12 1993 election was not because the winner of that election was a Yoruba. I observed that if Alhaji Tofa had won that election and the military had annulled it, the Yoruba would have been no less enraged.

    Should anyone seriously doubt this simple submission, let them ask themselves some pointed questions: Who led the fight for the adoption of the practice of federalism in a diverse nation-state such as Nigeria? Who led the struggle for the creation of states so that minorities may have equal representation? Which nationality first accepted the creation of a region for the minority group in its population? From the colonial times to the present 4th Republic, as a collective, the strength that the Yoruba bring to Nigerian political and social life is serving as the gadfly for justice. This was what galvanised mainstream Yoruba political structure to dig in on behalf of democracy and justice with regard to the June 12, 1993 election and its annulment.

    Egbe Omo Yoruba got involved in the struggle because, as I put it to the conference, we are true sons and daughters of our parents and true descendants of our ancestors. We cannot but fight injustice wherever it occurs. Now, the annulment of a free and fair election was an injustice and a gross abuse of power by the Babangida military regime. But many civilians across the nation, including some Yoruba aided and abetted the injustice. Many others refused to lift a finger for reasons best known to them. We cannot now complain about those individuals and groups. We thank God for the grace we had to be on the right side of history. It is up to them to learn from their past mistake of commission and omission.

    My second point of emphasis to the conference was to remind our people that appreciation and gratitude are important elements of the practice of justice. This is why our elders compare an unappreciated good deed to a case of armed robbery which denies its victim his or her possessions. Unfortunately, those who should know better the contributions that many people, including foreigners, made to the struggle, have shirked a very important responsibility. It took twenty years for the federal government to recognise Chief M. K. O. Abiola who paid the supreme sacrifice which made it possible for the 4th republic to last this long. Even the first beneficiary of his sacrifice didn’t consider it fitting to honor him. How sad and petty!

    Beside Chief Abiola and his wife, Kudirat, many individuals lost their lives along the way. More than 200 souls were lost to the military clampdown on protesters in Lagos. Now that June 12 has been recognized as Democracy Day, we need a monument to all those who fought and died struggling for its recognition. Hopefully, President Buhari will find the courage to conclude what he started so well.

    On my part, whenever and wherever I have the opportunity, I will always say the names of those whose courage never dimmed, whose forthrightness was never in doubt, as they fought side by side with us. Though no longer with us, their legacy continues to make us proud. Among those Yoruba heroes were Chief Abiola himself, Alhaja Kudirat Abiola, Baba Adekunle Ajasin, Baba Abraham Adesanya, Pa Onasanya, Chief Bola Ige, Alhaji Ganiyu Dawodu, Chief Wumi Adegbonmire, Baba Olanihun Ajayi, Dr. Tai Solarin, Dr. Ola Oni, Chief Gani Fawehinmi, Baba Omojola, Dr. Fredrick Fasehun, Professor Olikoye Ransome Kuti, Fela Anikulapo Kuti, Dr. Beko Ransome Kuti, Dr. Wahab Dosunmu and many others. In Egbe Omo Yoruba, those who are gone home now included Ezekiel Ayotunde, Titus Folayan, Paul Olatoye, Adekunle Sobajo, Tokunbo Marcarthy, Professor Layiwola Abegunrin, Olaseni Ajao, Kehinde Lijadu, and Dr. Nurudeen Olowopopo. Chief Anthony Enahoro was the mighty oak that served as an umbrella for all of us. My advice to the Egbe was to strive always to keep alive the memories of these heroes of our struggle.

    Of course, pertinent questions remain. What was the long-term outcome of the struggle? Did we achieve our goals and objectives? In view of where our politics is now, can we truly answer this question in the affirmative? Indeed, President Akindutire insisted on knowing if we had any regrets given what turned out to be the status quo outcome.

    My answer to this burning question of course was that personally I have no regrets and I don’t think that the Egbe should regret its involvement. As previously observed, if we didn’t get involved, we would have denied our heritage. Could we have done anything more in the wake of the return to civil rule? We were not willing to get involved in the new world of partisan politics. But we did expect our partners to be guided by the principles and ideals that we all fought for, including the need to establish a true federal structure and to institutionalize electoral integrity. Unfortunately, they found themselves outwitted by the military transition.

    What next? Egbe Omo Yoruba is fully aware that our people are not satisfied with the state of affairs. They are unhappy that restructuring is still far from the front burner of national discourse. They are unhappy about electoral malpractice. And they are frustrated with the pace of progress on the economy and infrastructural development. As long as there are lice on our national outfit, we will have blood-stained fingers. But whatever it takes, Egbe must keep fighting for justice and fairness, the enduring value of our forebears.

     

    Note: This columnist will be on vacation in July.