Category: Segun Gbadegesin

I have a special love for Reggae, and one of the two foremost priests of the genre is Jimmy Cliff. On two occasions in the recent past, I jubilantly and optimistically embraced his lyric of some years ago:

“I can see clearly now the rain is gone// I can see all obstacles in my way// Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind// It’s gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day//. Oh, yes I can make it now the pain is gone//All of the bad feelings have disappeared//Here is that rainbow I have been praying for//It’s gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day.”

I embraced Jimmy Cliff’s lyric, not as a personal affirmation of any new development in my life. I am thankful to God for who I am and what He has made of me. I seek no further affirmation that I have been blessed through His Grace. But like Nehemiah of old, I see the ruin in my Jerusalem. I see the downing of its fence. I see the shattered young lives, the sea of heads that roam aimlessly the streets of our urban centres, the hopeless and hapless ones in rural enclaves that are deceived into finding excitement in dope. I see a future so bleak that nothing but miracle can redeem.

Then as I cried on account of what appeared to be a lost hope, it suddenly appeared that an end was in sight for the pain and gloom to cease. The dark cloud hanging over the future was about to disappear and the rainbow of a new era for dear country was about to emerge.

Such was my optimistic reaction to two national events in the last 12 months. The first was the registration of what appeared to me to be a real opposition party that could at least offer a serious alternative to the party that has held the nation hostage for 15 years or so. I will get to this later. The second was the President’s reversal of his opposition to the convocation of a national conference to deal with the major structural defects of the polity. When some major stakeholders cried foul and canvassed skepticism and cynicism, I declared for the message of hope that I thought the President delivered even when I saw some contradictions in his inaugural address to the conferees.

What now? You may ask. Where is the nation at the end of the conference? And yes, where is the future for a real democratic process as the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) Leviathan triumphantly rampages the land? What, indeed, is the chance of the All Progressives Congress (APC) in a game that appears to be violently rigged against it and in which it appears to be a willing contestant? And yes, where is the hope of the nation in the event that both of these seemingly optimism-inspiring initiatives take a back seat and the status quo ante remains? I shiver at the thought of an answer.

Why is the impasse that has come to be the lot of the National Conference so illogical and so painful?

First, it is because everyone knows or at least ought to know that the present system cannot be sustained. Therefore, causing or permitting the failure of a life safer of sort is contrary to the interest of the country and its citizens. In a sense, then, if the delegates were truly committed to making the experiment that is still Nigeria work, they would have patiently and prudently worked to resolve the issues that divided them. This much they owed to the President, assuming, of course, that Mr. President himself held high hopes for the success of the parley, and he didn’t just cleverly fly a political kite.

Second, conference participants from the six geo-political zones and various interest groups represent the cream of the Nigerian state. Among delegates in the elder statesmen category are individuals who have served the country in various capacities since the First Republic. They have invested precious time and mental resources in the Nigerian project. Younger conferees have been no less committed. Indeed, a good number of participants in this category believe rightly that the future is theirs to fashion. It is therefore not for lack of experience or enthusiasm that the conference failed to resolve the most critical issues.

Thirdly, for anyone who still believes, as I do, that making Nigeria work is still far better because it is far more in the interest of everyone than the alternative, the failure of the conference and the collapse of the hope that its success had promised is extremely disappointing. Now the future is bleak. Now, plenty of lethal ammunition has been supplied into the arsenal of the enemies of a united federation of equal entities where no one is oppressed. This was the ideal encapsulated in the eternal lines of our first national anthem: a federal structure that respects pre-colonial cultures and structures, but brings them together to build a new nation in which the differences of tribe and tongue do not prevent the unity of purpose of a Black African republic that inspires the Black race throughout the world. Where is that hope now when the status quo ante, with its obvious anomalies, is preserved? And if Nigeria cannot be that inspiration, who can?

Fourthly, I have certainly argued and canvassed for a true federation on the ground of its pragmatic effectiveness for a nation of diverse linguistic and cultural differences. Of course, I do not believe as some do, that it is divinely ordained. It was the wish and determination of Britain through the instrumentality of its colonial agents that an entity named Nigeria must be. It was a creation of force, maintained by force for 46 years and then granted independence. We managed ourselves for seven years and concluded that we must be together. We fought a war of unity and unity won the battle. The victory was, however, illusory because we avoided the needed corrective action. In the circumstance, much hope was placed on this conference to address and come up with a sustainable solution. And then it failed to agree on the most critical issue of structure and power devolution.

Fifthly, I am sure that no one is now counting on either the President or the National Assembly to take up the mantle. The latter has not hidden its resentment of the idea behind the conference in the first place. In anticipation of its unlikely success, feelers had been sent out by the leadership of the Assembly about its reluctance to lend a hand to do the desirable with respect to an enabling legislation. Now, they don’t have to worry about being blackmailed by the nation. On his part, Mr. President can simply wash his hands off. After all, he has done what he was supposed to do. He initiated a National Conference as desired by the people. What can a Technical Committee achieve where the people’s delegates failed?

The most painful aspect of all these, however, is that the conference failed because delegates failed to compromise on the matter of the distribution of revenue accruing to the nation from its natural resources. Without doing much about revenue generation, delegates bickered over its distribution. Why can’t serious consideration be given to the appalling conditions under which our compatriots in the creek areas of the Niger Delta live, knowing fully that they bear the brunt of the development of oil and gas that fills the coffers of the nation? How can patriots be so obsessed with self-interest that they cannot even think rationally about the overall good of the nation? The news that some delegates rejected the establishment of state police by those states that want it and can afford it is unbelievable. For it remains unclear why, in a federal system, what some states want for the security of their citizens and can afford should be the concern of anyone.

I will get to the matter of opposition politics next week.

In a democracy, elections are the only means of choosing our leaders, and elections are about people’s preferences. Preferences, on their part, could be rational or irrational, self-regarding or other-regarding. It does not really matter because in a democracy, the electorate are the kingmakers. The analogy is apt. Just as kingmakers select the king and reserve the right to depose him in the days of old, so the electorate elect their governor or representative and reserve the right to vote him or her out in four or five years as the case may be. With the power of recall, they can even do so in less than four years. It’s the beauty of democracy.

Since the return of democratic rule in 1999, Nigeria has had three general elections with varying degrees of success in the manner they reflected the true preferences of the electorate. In 2003, there was the routing of the Alliance for Democracy (AD) governors from the Southwest, except Lagos State, with rampant and credible allegations of rigging and violence. 2007 was worse, giving rise to successful challenges at election tribunals in the cases of Ekiti and Osun. That was how Governors Kayode Fayemi and Rauf Aregbesola retrieved their mandates. In 2011, cases of alleged rigging were few and far between and the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) and President Goodluck Jonathan were justly commended for allowing the people’s will to prevail. In the past year, Anambra State reminded us of the earlier days of an inept INEC.

Ekiti 2014 has proved again that INEC is capable of shepherding our fragile democracy to a glorious destination and it should be commended by all citizens.

Now, the just concluded governorship election in Ekiti presents some issues for democracy and these arise for me in the form of questions that have agitated my mind since the announcement.

Does performance matter? If not, what does? What does the Ekiti election tell us about the electorate? They voted their preference. Is their preference for Fayose or against Fayemi? If their preference is for Fayose, what about him did they prefer? His person?  His programme? His party? If their preference is against Fayemi, what about him did they not prefer? His person? His programme? His party? Can preferences be wrong? Where preferences reflect interests, can interests be misinformed? What does the election tell us about the defeated candidate?

I confess that I have no answers to these questions. But I cannot deny that they flow from a particular state of mind, one that is confused, indeed, disappointed about the outcome of the election, having given a glowing endorsement of the loser. How and why did Fayemi lose? You might justifiably respond that he lost because voters rejected him, preferred Fayose, and that is good enough. But while it is good enough, it is not deep enough. It answers the “how” and not the “why”. For a follow-up question is reasonable: why did they reject Fayemi and prefer Fayose?

Did Ekiti voters reject Fayemi because of a lacklustre performance? Even his bitterest opponent, including the governor-elect and the leadership of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) would not go the route of despising the performance of the outgoing governor. Besides giving him credit for his statesmanlike concession speech to the people, he has also been praised for the achievements he made in four years. So, if a serious and objectively-valid case cannot be made against Fayemi on account of his performance, why did he suffer such a crushing defeat by the people, including in his own local government? There must be something more than performance that is central to the voters’ idea of good governance than performance.

The last sentence needs modification. I am almost sure that Ekiti voters did not reject performance as an important criterion of good governance. But it appears true that they want something more. For them, it has to be “performance plus X”, where various items are substituted for X, depending on the preferences of individuals or groups. For contractors, it is performance plus contract awards. For teachers, it is performance plus payment of not only salaries but also allowances for training, in addition to not being held accountable for students’ performances through continuous certification tests. For students, it is performance plus free tuition at the Ekiti State University (EKSU). For the jobless, it is performance plus job opportunities. For the hungry, it is performance plus bags of rice and gallons of cooking oil. The list is inexhaustible because preferences are elastic, while the resources available to a small state like Ekiti, without the benefit of 13 per cent derivation fund, are limited. Here is the tragedy of our clime and whoever will put himself up as a transforming agent.

Fayemi has been accused of not being on ground, of not being a grassroots politician, and of not paying attention to what people want, instead of what they need, where want is prioritised above need. The last point is particularly troubling. No political office holder can hope to satisfy people’s wants especially in an environment of abject poverty. This is why developmental projects are targets for improving the lives of the citizens and the electorate. My information was that Fayemi made it a point of duty to solicit the input of Ekiti citizens in his budget priorities, prioritising what each locality claims as a need in the budget allocation for that locality. But apparently this wasn’t enough.

It has also been alleged that Fayemi imported contractors from out of state to execute projects and this deprived Ekiti indigenes of the proverbial dividends of democracy. If this was the case, it was a grievous error on the part of the governor and his administration. What might be the reason? It is not unusual; indeed, it is the rule in many cases that politicians-turn-contractors see contracts as rewards for political activism. They take mobilisation fees and run. I do not suggest that this is the case with Ekiti State, but it has happened with other states and with the Federal Government. We know of contract for road work that gets unexecuted. To preserve a legacy of developmental projects, Fayemi may have been advised to go for reputable contractors in or out of state. Sadly, we now know that the politics of stomach infrastructure is strategically more effective at the polls than an idealistic focus on developmental infrastructure.

In the final analysis, however, what really matters is that Ekiti voters have spoken with their ballot papers.  Their preference is for Fayose and against Fayemi. The task of governance must proceed. Fayose will have to prudently combine his grassroots charm with the task of effective governance. He has been there before and he knows that the people that shout “hosanna” today are the same folks that will demand “crucifixion” tomorrow. The people may prioritise stomach infrastructure at the moment, but that does not mean they will reject developmental infrastructure. A governor that finds a way to combine both and more is a winner. Of course, that is a tough call in an environment of scarcity.

I should end with a note of concern, especially for the Southwest political and economic development. Elections are about people’s will. If and when they have registered their will, politicians of all affiliations and tendencies ought to respect that will and work for another day. That was what Fayemi has been commended for and must be justly proud of. That frame of mind recommends itself to all, especially because in the spirit of the development of the Southwest and the commitment to DAWN, no state can be or should be left out. My greatest concern is that this election should have no negative impact on the spirit of DAWN, which Governor Fayemi has so effectively spearheaded. Governor-elect Fayose should be given every reason to know that he is an integral part of the success of DAWN moving forward. No matter the party affiliation, the work of developing the Southwest as a model zone is for all to embrace.

We are still in denial. When we don’t bury our ostrich heads in the sand, pretending that nothing is amiss, we play the blame game. I use the first person plural here because although, it is the Jonathan administration that is neck-deep in this shamelessness, we are all implicated. This is our government. This is the president that we voted into office. This is the president that we invested our hope in and lavished our goodwill upon. His challenges, whether self-imposed or other-generated, is our challenge. At any rate, we are the victims.

The reason the blame game has been particularly sad and unproductive is that it is unclear why it has to be the recourse for anyone. Why indulge in the ineffective practice of blaming when you can roll up your sleeves and find solution? President Jonathan played down the idea of negotiation because he didn’t see any successful outcome from negotiating with faceless characters. Boko Haram is a mirage, we were counseled. If you can’t identify them, how can you negotiate with them? That was before we knew that in fact there had been some attempt to negotiate years ago by the former President Obasanjo. That had to be called off because President Jonathan did not accept the conditions. Then recently, in the matter of the Chibok girls, we now know that a negotiated settlement was in process when President Jonathan again called it off.

Now it stands to reason that if you find it repulsive to negotiate with terrorists, then the option of using what only a government can muster is the next and only available option. Government has an absolute monopoly of the use of coercion. If negotiation is out, it is reasonable, indeed imperative to demand that force be applied. If we cannot identify who they are, we cannot feign ignorance about their operational targets. We know where they have hit over and over. We have declared a state of emergency over the entire North-East so that JTF may have a free rein. What has been the outcome?

It turned out that Governor Shettima was right. We can’t match the terrorists in the quality and quantity of the arsenal at their disposal. And if as the government insists, that is not the case, then the alternative explanation for why we are helpless victims is that we do not have an armed force with the motivation and determination to effectively engage the terrorists in battle. There have been citizen reports of the army fleeing into hiding at the approach of the terrorists. Sadly, we have been in denial in respect of each of these possibilities. It is sad because if we don’t have a handle on the correct diagnosis of our ailment as a nation, we are doomed.

Our national pastime, which the president has effectively symbolised in this crisis, is the blame game. Thus, President Jonathan complained recently that the goal of the insurgency is to bring down his government. By inference, terrorists are nothing to worry about if we can get at their sponsors. Therefore the focus has to be on those who are behind the obnoxious goal. This of course leads to the all-important question: Who is behind the insurgency? Are they politicians? Or is it the opposition? Is it the Cleric or Labour? Is it ASUU or students? How about market women? Or is it all of the above? But if this is how our mind has been working, can we possibly deal with or even start to seriously deal with the insurgency without an answer to the all-important question?

It is important to note that the Boko Haram insurgency predated the Jonathan presidency. Therefore its original motivation could not have been to bring down the government of Jonathan. Furthermore, we should recall that when it first appeared, Boko Haram was treated as a criminal and misguided gang for which police action was appropriate. Indeed, its leader was killed in police custody. No one suspected or looked for political sponsors until Jonathan assumed presidency when it suddenly dawned on us that Boko Haram was an evil ploy of the North to get back by force what it lost through the ballot box. It didn’t matter that emirs were targeted. It didn’t matter that northern politicians have been victims. Inadvertently we gave terrorists the time they needed to master their plan. We lost precious time.

Now, we have had three and a half years to answer the all-important question of who are behind the insurgency. Do we have an answer? Of course not; because there can be no answer to a wrong-headed question. Imagine if the United States engaged in the politicisation of terrorist threat post-9/11. Bin Laden would still be hiding in Pakistan and uploading YouTube videos. President Obama didn’t blame political opponents. He pursued and funded Intelligence until Bin Laden is history. A criminal terrorist has thumped our national nose for more than four years and we are blaming others and passing the buck.

A more shameless reaction occurred recently. In response to the outpouring of emotion on the part of traumatised citizens protesting to their President to “Bring Back Our Girls”, a delegation of the President’s aides met the protesters and suggested to them to take their protest to Boko Haram and its leaders. Consider an analogy. An ancient town under the authority of a king is under attack by invaders. The town dwellers cry to the king in protest. Does the king tell them to take their case to the invaders? Certainly not! In addition to what else he might plan to do in consultation with his chiefs and priests, he reassures his subjects and mobilises them to defend their town. But this is the era of party politics where every move is perceived in partisan terms.

The outcome of the presidential response to the protesters is the inauguration of a rival group, the “Grand Coalition Against Terrorism”, with a message to Boko Haram: “Release Our Girls Now.” After all what is the meaning of the message to the President and his government to “Bring Back Our Girls” as if he has the capacity to do so? Why not send your message to the terrorists who are holding the girls to release them?  But the terrorists are in the bush, aren’t they? So why are the members of the “Grand Coalition Against Terrorism” protesting in Abuja and not on their way to Sambisa forest to deliver their placards to Shekau?

What ought to be a common approach to our security challenge has been shamelessly politicised, no thanks to a presidency that perceives politics in everything. God save us from ourselves!

As terror ventures out of its base, the imperative of a truly secular polity becomes categorical.

At the inception of its campaign of terror, the haven of Boko Haram was the Northeast where it has ravaged families and battered innocent lives. Then, it bared the fangs of its horror at Abuja, the ultimate symbol of the nation’s strength and pride, and sadly for our bloated sense of national honour, the terrorists claimed victory. Now, basking in its “successes” against the weak “infidels”, as it describes all individuals and institutions that reject its jaundiced jihadist religious ideology, Boko Haram has ventured into the North Central, which has had a tradition of mixed religious identities since the beginning of times. If it succeeds in the Middle Belt, nothing prevents these agents of death and self-appointed soldiers of a God of peace, from marching south.  What will stop them? Who can stop them?

It is not as if nobody saw this coming. As recent as the beginning of the fourth republic, the seed of religious discontent and confrontation was sown by bigots and watered by both the legislature and the executive who chose to look elsewhere. Sharia Law was legislated in the name of religious freedom at the same time that opportunity for functional and quality education was curtailed for the youth, who then got recruited into the army of God. We have a constitution that is secular only in name because politicians and elected officials lack the essential spine of political courage to stand up to religious bigots and career religionists. The deliberate politicisation of religion at the highest level of government is sickening.

Some years ago, I suggested that the spread of terror across the North pointed to the urgency of a dialogue over the place of institutional religion in a secular state like Nigeria. I made this point at that time because, then, as now, the avowed reason for the anger of Boko Haram is its demand for the complete islamisation of the entire North in particular, with the propagation and enforcement of Sharia Law.

 An update is warranted because lately, the sect has moved the goal post further. Now it would not accept a non-Muslim to rule over its members and all who subscribe to its hatred of other religions. This is its rationale for venturing out of its base.

Granted that the publicised grievance of the sect may diverge from its unspoken gripe against the state; it is reasonable to assume that religion is central to its raison d’etre and it is the source of its angst. In the circumstance, it’s unclear how a secular state can oblige the sect without undermining its secularity.

This may explain why the focus of the reaction of concerned citizens has been the poverty index and the impact this has had on the psychological and material wellbeing of the people. A hungry man is an angry man and the resentment emanating from a state of acute poverty can find an exit in any number of outlets, including a pseudo-religious one. The reasoning then is that religion is a camouflage for the underlying effect of poverty. Treat the disease of poverty and all will be well.

If poverty is the foundation and religion is only a superstructure, one can keep hope alive that the cause of peace and stability is not beyond the nation’s reach provided that the political will is summoned to combat poverty. We can get at poverty and expect desirable results in due course. I confess that I sympathised with this reasoning as an important element of the crisis. But Shehu Sanni recently disclosed his encounter with university graduates who confirmed to him that they shredded their diplomas in order to be recognised as authentic members of the sect. This should not be a surprise. The masterminds of the 9/11 attack in New York were university-trained engineers.

It is safe to assume that not all members of the sect are complete outliers with regard to western education. Even if most of them are out of the box of western education, the leadership of the group isn’t. Furthermore, I would like to assume that in view of the resources that they have access to in the conduct of their deadly campaigns, they must have a close affinity with those whose educational attainment give access to comfortable living and giving. With all these assumptions, I hypothesise that the group is benefitting from Western education which it has roundly condemned and rejected as sin.

Of course, one may benefit from something that one truly finds to be evil and sinful, not necessarily by being a hypocrite; it may just as well be out of ignorance, as in not knowing that the said benefit is from a sinful or evil source. But it seems to me unlikely that Boko Haram members are innocently ignorant of western education as the direct or indirect source of some of the resources at their disposal, including access to video technology and YouTube.

While the sect’s recent attacks (in Abuja, Bauchi and Jos) have been indiscriminate, it has not always been vague about its targets, which have included churches and security agents and agencies; the latter presumably because they are the instruments of the state campaign against it. With respect to churches, the message does not get clearer. The sect perceives churches as evil and worshippers as demons. Is this perception poverty-driven? Perhaps the suicide bombers that attacked churches during Sunday worship hours were paid handsome compensations to carry out their mission in addition to the promised reward of a paradise of blissful lives ever-after, giving them an additional motivating force. Yet this doesn’t detract from the religio-spiritual persuasion without which material compensation is meaningless.  If we ignore this, we fall into the same mistake of explaining ethnicity as essentially a symptom of the disease of poverty.

We have to accept that just as there is the disease of poverty, for which an adequate cure is required and which a capable state would effectively deal with; there is also the disease of extreme and radical religiosity which the state cannot afford to accommodate because its fury is limitless and is capable of consuming the state.

A policy of non-accommodation of radical religiosity is the normative ground for affirming the secularity of the state, especially in a multi-religious state where people of different faiths are inextricably welded together. Paradoxically, it is the educational achievement levels of its members that facilitate, though without guaranteeing, the affirmation of secularity, and the rationale for a secular polity in a pluralistic society.

Educational levels enhance the probability of individuals understanding that freedom of religion, that is the liberty to make choices of religious doctrines and affiliations, is essential because spirituality cannot be forced even in monolithic societies since each person must account for him or herself on the judgment day.  If education enhances this understanding, it is not a surprise that religious fanatics and spiritual radicals would find it evil and sinful. This is why Boko Haram is against western education.

If education is loathed and, therefore, prevented from performing its task of opening the eyes and clearing the mind of its idols, what is the recourse of a state focused on peaceful coexistence among peoples of different faiths?

To prevent the looming religious war that is being dangerously canvassed by Boko Haram, we must uphold the secularity of the state; guarantee the freedom of religious affiliation anywhere and everywhere in the country; and identify radicals and fanatics, including political opportunists that stand in the way, enemies of the nation. At a time such as this, the hope of a peaceful, stable, and prosperous Nigerian nation depends solely on the collective will of our political leaders and their religious and traditional counterparts.

Will the Committee on Religion at the ongoing Confab place the career interests of religious bigots above the nation’s interest in a secular state that provides opportunities for religious freedom but no preferences for any particular religion? Conference delegates must send a clear message to agents of hate and religious bigots: Nigeria is a secular state and secularism is her strength.

The President’s advice to the national conference delegates was to think of national interest in all their deliberations. It is becoming increasingly clear, however, that whatever understanding of national interest the delegates had prior to their arrival in Abuja has been the prime mover of their contributions to conference debates. This is by no means to be lamented. Delegates come from different backgrounds and they will prioritise the interests that they perceive as directly congruent to their respective conditions.

It would appear then that in a situation where delegates present conflicting proposals based on their interests, there can be no arbiter or objective umpire. For contrary to the idealist belief that political deliberation and voting is a process of discovering the truth, what we are faced with is a different reality.  Where interests are prioritised, reference to truth must take a back seat. That is to say, there is no truth to be discovered, only interests to be canvassed and promoted.

Contrary to the mindset captured in the preceding paragraph, I would like to argue that even if interests are prioritised, there is still room for an objective determination of the means to achieving those interests.

Confab delegates certainly have an interest in security because their various constituencies, including ethnic nationalities, professional groups and religious organizations, understand that without adequate security, they cannot satisfy any of their other interests. For this reason, there is a committee on National Security and at least one of the other sub-committees includes security as part of its mandate. This is the Committee on Devolution of Powers.

From the reporting on the conference deliberations, however, it appears that both of the subcommittees that focus on security have rejected the proposal for the institutionalisation of state police in the constitution. From the Committee on Homeland Security, we have a recommendation for scrapping the Ministry of Police Affairs and replacing it with the Ministry of Homeland Security, which is to coordinate the “activities of the National Guard, Nigerian Police Force, Civil Defense Corps and the Nigerian Prisons Service”. What is significant, however, is not so much what the committee included but what it rejected. For while it endorsed the creation of a Ministry of Homeland Security, it rejected the creation of a decentralised police structure and opted instead for the continuation of the failed centralised security system that has demobilised us for almost fifty years.

It is unclear from the reports what arguments the committees proffered for their support for a centralised and against a decentralised security regime. But if precedent can be a rational guide in these matters, the arguments are too familiar and remain fallacious on all counts. If there is a common interest in security, the question we must answer is, “has a centralised system been effective since 1966?” The answer clearly is “no.” If we are rational human beings, we must be willing to jettison a failed approach and embrace one that has been shown to be successful in other places and make it work for us.

In the recent past I have had to deal with the spurious arguments against state police and at the risk of repetition I shall once more rebut those closet unitarists whose idea of a federal system is the extreme antithesis of what it is.

The arguments against decentralised (state) police are samples of immature and unsound reasoning. The first is that state police has the potential for abuse by politicians, especially governors and the party in power. The second argument is about funding the system.  So, there is widespread agreement on (i) the present perilous state of internal security, (ii) the inadequacy of the federal police to deal with it, and (iii) the universally acknowledged effectiveness of state and local police in dealing with internal security in any nation. But because of the fear—imagined or real—that politicians, especially governors are likely to use it as an instrument of oppression, plus uncertainty about funding, otherwise reasonable people are against the institution of state police.

Neither of these concerns is unresolvable. They are challenges that reasonable people can meet and overcome. Take the case of funding. If security is the foremost responsibility of government, surely state governments can be expected to source for the means of discharging this responsibility even if it requires moderating expenses in other sectors. What is more, an effective system of internal security has the potential for generating internal revenue that not only pays for itself but also yields substantial dividends for investment in other sectors. Certainly such a regime can expect to attract a decent amount of domestic and foreign investment into the state. With business and industrial investment, opportunities are created for youth employment which in turn creates buying power, which leads to more investment and the circle can only be a virtuous one.

There is a second consideration about funding. Even now that the police falls under the exclusive list of the Constitution, governors cannot be unconcerned about resources available to the police commands in their states, for they are still responsible for securing their citizens. A good number of governors have created State Security Commissions that raise funds for the police, while some raise their own vigilante groups.

The major concern of opponents, however, is that in the hands of governors, state police is a weapon of harassment. This is not an imaginary fear because it happened during the First Republic.  But the reality of the experience of almost half a century ago, vivid as it might be in our minds, cannot be a reliable yardstick for determining how we should now live our lives. The mark of our humanity is rationality and with this endowment we are able to think through the most efficient and effective means of meeting the challenges that we face and identifying the most efficient means of satisfying our wants and needs.

If we are wary of the experience of the past—premiers using state police to torment opponents—and we know that federal police has not worked efficiently and effectively to secure us—the blind can see it—then we must put on our thinking caps and device an effective means of avoiding the unacceptable experiences of the past. We could ensure that governors have no monopoly of supervisory authority over the state police by creating a civil and apolitical policing system. Each state might have a transparently independent Police Commission, with representation from major sectors of the civil society and financially autonomous, with constitutionally guaranteed revenue.

Secondly, if we are fearful that governors may use state police to rig elections—harassing political opponents while empowering the rigging industry of supporters—then again we must device a means of avoiding such an inauspicious outcome. In any case, if the first proposal is acceptable and there is an independent supervisory agency, then the fear of using the police to rig elections would have been misplaced.

For far too long, there has been one constant refrain against proposals for changing our way of doing those things that we all agree are not working. Whether it is change from dictatorship to democracy or unitarism to federalism, the opposition has always expressed a baffling lack of confidence in our collective maturity. We were told that we were not mature for democracy; that the kind of federalism we seek is dangerous in light of our present political circumstance. And state police is for mature societies which ours is not.

The people making these claims consider themselves mature. This is what gives them the audacity to advise us against attempting what they believe the country is not ready for. While I cannot pronounce on the veracity of their claims to maturity, what is clear to me is that their arguments are self-serving and short-sighted as such.  Federal control of security serves their self-interest. They forget, however, that control of the center is unpredictable and a failed security regime is an equal opportunity victimiser against which nobody has proven immunity.  Hopefully, the entire conference at its plenary will vote for a decentralised police system. It is an important measure of a successful conference.

Two years ago, I reflected on the challenge of residency rights in the context of our fascination with, indeed, fetishisation of place of origin. This mindset is thoroughly human, but industrialisation and modernisation has virtually erased it from the landscape of the Western world. It is very much alive in Africa in general and Nigeria in particular. There is nothing inherently wrong with the mindset. In fact, it has been exploited profitably for developmental efforts in villages across the land. However, if there is an interest in the strengthening of national integration, fascination with place of origin is a real challenge. Now that the National Conference has waded into the issue, the collective wisdom of delegates may provide the breakthrough that we need.

Pursuant to the declaration that the “motto of the Federal Republic of Nigeria shall be Unity and Faith, Peace and Progress”, the 1999 Constitution pledged that “national integration shall be actively encouraged, whilst discrimination on the grounds of place of origin, sex, religion, status, ethnic or linguistic association or ties shall be prohibited.” This is the central political objective of the document that constitutes the grundnorm of the nation’s existence.

To the extent that the constitution recognises the importance of national integration as key to the realisation of unity and faith, peace and progress, its framers deserve credit. It may be argued that this recognition is only on paper. The answer to this charge is that the constitution is a written document, and its provision can only be on paper. It is the responsibility of those who pledged to uphold the spirit of the constitution to implement its provisions and transform it from an ordinary paper to a living reality in the lives of citizens.

Indeed, the document goes on to enumerate the means to the realisation of the objective of national integration when it identifies the duty of the state to “provide adequate facilities for and encourage free mobility of people, goods and services throughout the Federation; secure full residence rights for every citizen in all parts of the Federation; encourage inter-marriage among persons from different places of origin or of different religious, ethnic or linguistic association or ties; and promote or encourage the formation of associations that cut across ethnic, linguistic, religious or other sectional barriers.”

The framers of the constitution truly believed that the state, through its elected leaders, can make all the foregoing happen. After all, “ought implies can.” In light of the experience of the last thirteen years, it would appear that the optimism of the framers was a little bit misplaced. Of the group of four ideals that comprise the motto of the nation, we cannot pretend to be close to beginning the journey toward the realisation of three: unity, peace, and progress. The fourth, faith, is the most vague in what it includes and, therefore, perhaps the most difficult to know if we are inching towards it. Does it mean faith in the republic? Or does it mean faith in God, gods, humans or wealth and greed?

The nation has moved from militancy to terrorism in fifteen years; it has found itself in the belly of ethnic and religious whales, and the god of its creation has not been able to deliver it. It is debatable whether that god is not somewhere having a belly laugh at the expense of its creature. Didn’t  he/she/it anticipate these outcomes?

Two years ago, the National Assembly also took a bite into the complex tissue of this monstrous entity. In order to give teeth to the idealistic provisions of the constitution regarding national integration and residency, the National Assembly, as the beneficiary of the people’s sovereignty, flew again the kite of residency right. It is laudable in the context of the goal of national integration. The question was about its workability?

The Federal Government can promulgate a residency requirement: if you live for ten years in a locality, discharging your full legal and civic responsibilities, you qualify for full residency rights including the right to vote and be voted for. This is what happens in other nations.

Now, that proposal appears very reasonable until we identify one significant difference between this country (as well as many African nations) and the other countries where this works. America is a land of immigrants. Human movement is what gives the United States an edge. Mitt Romney’s father was governor of Michigan. Mitt moved to Massachusetts and became governor there. Barack Obama moved from his birthplace of Hawaii and became a Senator from Chicago. Bill Clinton was governor in Arkansas and from there he got elected as President of the United States. He then moved to New York where his wife was elected Senator. The list is long. The reason this is possible in the United States is that the idea of residency is not tied to any fundamental ideal of belonging concretised in the symbolism of umbilical cord burial.

In the defense of some of our practices, we self-indict by referencing our level of development or maturity. They say, for instance, that we are not ripe for State Police because governors will abuse it. Of course, I think this is a spurious claim. But the fundamental ideal of belonging that we all cherish doesn’t even belong to that category of practices. Grant residency rights by law and empower individuals to be integral parts of the communities in which they reside. Grant them that right, and what do you have? At census time, they pack their families to their birthplace where they feel they truly belong. The right to free movement cannot prevent this from happening.  And what they fail to do in life, they choose to have done at death. For the Yoruba, royalty (and everyone is included here) deserves proper hometown internment (ori oye kii sun ta).

This obsession with place of origin does not just relate to ethnic or state origins. It is an issue among members of the same ethnicity just as it is a challenge to intra-community harmony.

Consider a typical small Yoruba community with a newly developed neighborhood settled by people from different parts of the community and surrounding towns. Significantly, in deference to their different origins, they name their new settlement Ilupeju (the assembly of many towns).  What is more, each settler family finds his or her way to their places of origin, probably on 6 km away for voter registration; for elections, and to their “home” churches and mosques for spiritual activities.  It doesn’t matter that they can access these facilities in their new homes. Were legal obstacles to national integration removed, this tendency for voluntary separation and identification with origin is a greater challenge to effective integration.

In light of this, we should not be deluded into thinking that once we promulgate residency rights, national integration would be achieved. In the context of our cultural beliefs, it is the beneficiaries of full residency rights that are most likely to be its worst violators. Yet there is something unsettling about referencing negatively those cultural beliefs and practices that appear to counter our notion of national integration as violations. These practices have been recognised by the people as part of their being—what makes them who they are. They are what psychologists understand as identity markers. It would appear then that the objective of national integration can truly conflict with our fundamental notions of who we consider ourselves to be.

Of course, the encouragement of national integration through residency rights does not force anyone to take advantage of such rights. Individuals and family members may choose to self segregate rather than integrate with their “host” communities. This raises a different set of issue. A settler who self-segregates in spite of the right to residency becomes suspect to the host community: what does he/she think of us? Why live with us and not integrate? More important than legality is an enabling environment that allows people to internalise the norms of citizenship through voluntary interactions so they can collectively develop relationships that supersede their various private and group enclaves.