Category: Segun Gbadegesin

What has changed since June 12, 1993? The uniformed services, shamed out of office after thirteen years of official terrorism, are no longer in direct control. Beyond that, the body politics hasn’t changed a bit. Indeed, there are significant lessons unlearned.

I do not want to belabour the reader with the known quantity. An election was contested keenly, and a candidate won with clear margins of victory across the nation, a once in the lifetime of the sleeping giant that would have created the much needed action in the direction of nationhood. But that was not to be because in the eyes of a few, Nigeria was not to be unless they are in charge.

There were protests and rallies, and then a prolonged battle sustained by the undying optimism of a minority led by NADECO and a coalition of progressives at home and abroad. The struggle was not without its ups and downs. The forces that have always scuttled the emergence of a political nation out of the motley crowd of ethnic nations were at their strongest. They turned the battle against military dictatorship into a sectional and sectarian struggle. It became a we-versus-them affair. And within the struggle itself, ego had its field day and the stress of the battle clearly showed. In the end, the unseen forces that believed in a future for the country intervened giving her a second chance.

How has the second chance been used? I want to focus here on four areas of national life that contributed to and/or directly caused the debacle that was the aftermath of June 12, 1993 elections.

First is our system of electoral politics and the way we approach elections. The remote and immediate causes of the June 12 fiasco have been well documented. What still stands out was the way the military administration of General Ibrahim Babangida manipulated the sensibilities of the political class and mischievously dribbled them for purposes other than national interest. His idea of leadership at the center was coloured by, not necessarily evil, but certainly primordial considerations of personal and ethnic hegemony. While the June 12 election held the promise of a united nation, Babangida and his crew opted for the unity of a clique promoting the agenda of hegemonists.

Sadly, nothing has changed in our electoral politics since the beginning of the present dispensation fourteen years ago. Between 1993 and 1999 the nation was at the brink of collapse as the clamour for peaceful separation rang clear and loud. Shouldn’t it shock reasonable people that we have not moved a bit from the insanity that almost leave us dead as a nation?

Electoral manipulation greeted the very first elections in 1999 and has only undergone various forms of perverted perfection since, with desperate declarations of elections as “do or die” events. The deliberate and bare-faced bungling of the election of the Chairman of the Nigeria Governors’ Forum is the latest example of the shamelessness of the political class. And it is a mirror image of the June 12 experience. For just like that experience, we are now treated to the drama of participants in a free and fair election shamelessly denying their involvement and asking for evidence of their participation. They are protesting, after the event, that the election shouldn’t have been conducted because NGF Chairs have always been selected by consensus. Well, shouldn’t this have been agreed to by all participants? And if there was not an agreement because some die-hard democrats preferred an election, and you acquiesced, do you have a right to complain because the outcome doesn’t favour you? It’s all in character, and is good evidence that we have learnt nothing and gained nothing. And it is just an indication of what to expect in 2015.

June 12, 1993 represented hope for a new sense of nationality with the expectation of a genuine unity of purpose. However, the hope began to be shattered with the struggle for the restoration of the mandate that followed the annulment of the election. Instead of a united front, efforts were made to regionalise and ethnicise the struggle. And that effort has not abated even since the return of civil rule in 1999. We can debate the depth of our ethnic tensions at this time compared with 20 years ago. I am sure, however, that no one can deny what is obvious, that we do not now have a united country and the very idea of a nation is constantly being threatened. If a group can insist that their man must be president or there will be an end to the country as we know it—whatever the election results are—then we know that something is terribly wrong with our sense of who we are and what ideals we espouse.

We now think in terms of our ethnic nations, its marginalisation and all, with no corresponding interest in the entity named Nigeria. Why don’t we just get together then and reach a peaceful accord for everyone to go to their tents? I think what now holds the country together is the private interests of the political class. It is why the various elements of the ruling party who would have nothing to do with each other still get together to reconcile their differences. The Northern Governors Forum is out to protect the interests of the North. So is the Southsouth Governors Forum. These groups are majority PDP governors. But there is no overriding PDP national ideal that prevents conflict and promotes harmony between the sections. What does is the private and sectional interests that each governor wants to protect. As long as those interests are there, and can be protected by patching up difference, we may expect the Nigeria project to go on. But this is not a guarantee for lasting hopes for the survival of talk less of the prospering of the nation.

Finally, we may ask about how we have fared with respect to respect for the rule of law and combine this with the so-called war on corruption. The two are related and have always had a combined effect on the prospect of national development and progress. The first president inaugurated after the June 12 debacle was himself a victim of the manipulation of the rule of law. But he went on to perfect the art of manipulation in many ways, the most egregious being how he mocked the Supreme Court ruling on his seizure of Lagos State Funds.

Subsequent administrations continue to mock the rule of law. The Nigerian Judicial Council is by our constitution the authority over the appointment and discipline of judicial officers. But their pronouncements now have to be agreeable to the political class, otherwise they are ignored with impunity.

The June 12 debacle is attributable in part to the depth of the corruption of the body politic literally and metaphorically. And we have learnt nothing from that experience. This is why there is so much cynicism about the government rhetoric on corruption. If there is a war going on, it is not visible to the majority of our people. Indeed, they see the opposite when we granted pardon to a notoriously corrupt politician who the international community has written off and an irredeemably corrupt person. The politician that our judicial system absolved from the crime of corruption was found culpable by a foreign court. It is unclear how long we have to wait for our government to redeem itself and our nation from the current state of political stupor.

The pathetic picture of a young woman baring her breasts in public on a Lagos street in a desperate attempt to call attention to her miserable condition has gone viral on the web, with a wide range of comments by Nigerians. The significance of the incident should not be lost on right thinking people, who still appreciate the rationale for having a political community.

Many commentators have called attention to the importance of individual responsibility, and that is a good point. Having too many children without adequate planning is a bane of our society. Children having children, and men acting as bullies and controlling the lives and future of women with impunity has been an undeniable part of our tragic history. The story of the young woman bears out this important observation. Yet it is also important to note that there are helpless victims of societal neglect and for them, our collective obligation is undeniable and the government, as our representative, has a huge responsibility.

While security of the individual is one component of the rationale for government; the other component is the promotion of the welfare of the individual. In other climes, government serves as benefactor of the poor, the needy, and the sick. We know that poverty is a reality. We also know that it is pervasive in our society. Where this is the case, it is not possible for our people to be their brothers and sisters keeper the way they used to be because they are all mostly poor. The system of charity that prevails in advanced countries is not replicated here because of this prevalent and generalised poverty. In the circumstance, government has to care for those who through no fault of theirs find themselves on the wrong side of the economic divide. This is why poverty alleviation programs are important when they are not politicised.

Government must be the insurer of last resort of citizens against the uncertainties of social life. People pay for insurance not to prevent disaster but to limit its negative impact on their resources. Diseases, disability, loss of employment, and unanticipated changes could be devastating. While some have the capacity to overcome such adversities on their own, the majority of our people are unable due to inherent disabilities. Esther Odozi is only one representative of that silent majority. As a community, we failed them.

Despite the tremendous wealth of natural and human resources with which we are endowed, Nigeria is ranked as one of the poorest countries because of the number of poor people. There is no use going over why this paradox has been our lot. It is clear to all that we have not utilised our resources for the benefit of our people. We also know that in the last three decades, Nigeria has spent a better percentage of her resources battling poverty. Yet on the eve of President Obasanjo’s second coming in 1999, the World Bank’s report revealed that the Human Development Index (HDI) of Nigeria was on 0.416 and 70 per cent of the population was living below poverty level. So how can anyone justify the amount of resources purportedly invested in poverty alleviation with such a dismal result? This is the fundamental question.

Since the beginning of the Third Republic, the Federal Government has used Poverty Alleviation programme as one of the instruments to combat the scourge of poverty. We can tell how effective this programme has been in light of the incidence of poverty in our midst. Whether we focus on the Youth Empowerment Scheme (YES) or the Rural Infrastructure Development Scheme (RIDS) or the Social Welfare Services Scheme (SOWESS) or yet still the Natural Resources Development and Conservation Schemes (NRDCS), the failure of the programmes is visible to the blind. The poor are still very much around.

Our poverty alleviation programme is politically motivated with little to no sincerity about its effective outcome. A national programme, administered as a centralised federal programme can hardly be expected to effectively reach the poor who live in the states and in the local government areas. These are the first responders to the afflictions of the poor. It is therefore going to be difficult for the Federal Government to operate poverty alleviation programmes which it wants the states to be an appendage to. It could have been more effective for the Federal Government to issue broad policy goals and targets which it expects states and local governments to meet, and then give poverty alleviation grants to these local authorities to implement.

It doesn’t help that we have an aggravated competition system of politics in which the Federal Government is controlled by a political party that is in some cases different from those controlling the states and local governments, and in which there is a lack of mature relationship between the actors. In such a situation, the necessary cooperation in implementing such a programme is lacking. And where you have an arrogant leadership at the centre, the problem is compounded. The National Poverty Alleviation Programme (NAPEP) was a victim of such condition which mandated the implementation the programme in the states through the Federal Government Controller of Works in each state, thus marginalising the states and local government authorities. And an investment of more than N10 billion went down the drain. 200,000 jobs were to be created in a country of 140 million people with unemployment at more than 40%. Instead, emergency millionaires were created in the hierarchy of the ruling party. The poor remain poor.

Nigeria needs leaders with an adequate knowledge of the requirements of effective leadership. In addition, however, such a leadership must also have the endowment of a heart that feels the pain of the downtrodden and helpless citizens of our great country. But a leadership does not fall from the sky. It will have to come from among the citizens and be accredited and mandated by them. Therefore citizens also have to have the heart that recognises the obligations that we owe to each other. In our pre-governmental relationships, in our various communities, we are each other’s keepers. The coming of the state does not negate that relationship. It is expected to enhance it. This is why we cannot be satisfied with mere sloganising about the greatness of the country. A landmass is not great in itself; it is the commitment of patriotic citizens that make a nation great. But that commitment is not forthcoming without a realisation on the part of citizens that the political leaders place the highest priority on the interests and welfare of citizens. If what is apparent to citizens is the cut-throat competition to acquire the most for self and family on the part of leaders, then the vicious cycle of poverty and alienation is not going to cease.

In the matter of promoting the welfare of our people and confronting the scourge of poverty, we must strengthen our educational system to give the necessary tools to our youths to make them productive citizens. Through them, we can raise the productive capacity of our economy, and provide for the needs of our mounting populations. Consider this. A well-educated citizenry is in a better position to solve the myriad problems of technological development, be it in the area of power, agriculture, including food technology, or transportation. In addition, gainful employment that is made possible when education is extended to a majority of the population reduces the potential of insecurity caused by unemployment. If only a minority makes it big while the majority suffers in silence, it’s a short step to anarchy and chaos, the kind that has characterised our democracy in the last fifty years. Esther Odozi is a national wake-up call!

Since the announcement of the mega merger to form the All Progressives Congress (APC), there has been a new art of scaremongering and there is something paradoxical about it.

Let me substantiate. Various spokesmen of the ruling party have gone from demonising the leaders of the proposed merger to scaring one segment of the electorate, especially in the Southwest, that APC is their death knell as a people. In series of press briefings and statements right after the announcement of the merger, Presidential spokesperson Doyin Okupe had some harsh words for the party and its prospects. On the one hand, Okupe asserted that the merger will crumble within a year on the ground that “it is a weak association.” The basis of this assessment is unclear given the widespread nature of the membership of the merging parties and the levers of power they presently control. But Okupe is so sure of his position that he chose to stake his future identity on the veracity of his prediction.

On the other hand, however, in an effort to paint ACN as a regional party, Okupe ended up disparaging the Yoruba as diehard regionalists. In his thinking, the only attachment that the Yoruba have with ACN is its identity as a regional party. This translates to the view that the Yoruba are not worried about the programmes that are beneficial to them, nor are they concerned about the ideological orientation of a political party. “The party’s only relevance in the Nigerian politics is that it is the outfit with which the Yoruba politics stands out. So when they have lose (sic) that garb, they are gone,” Okupe predicted.

Recall that this has always been the tragic resort of opponents of both the Action Group and the UPN. Okupe indeed referenced these parties as examples of his meaning. Recall also that one of the campaign slogans of PDP in 2003 was the need for the Yoruba to go into the mainstream of Nigerian politics. Now, the leadership of ACN is making the move via a different route and the scaremongers are at work.

From another angle in the same art of scaremongering, the leader of the Niger Delta Peoples Volunteer Force (NDPVF) Alhaji Mujadid Asari Dokubo declared in an interview with Saturday Sun that the “emerging merger of the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN) with the Congress for Progressive Change (CPC), All Nigeria People’s Party (ANPP) and a faction of the All Peoples Grand Alliance (APGA) will spell doom for Yoruba people.” In Dokubo’s chauvinistic assessment, “it is political suicide for the Southwest to align with the North in the power equation.”

The reasoning is so far out that it is hardly worth examining from a rational perspective. First, if the issue is about experience, isn’t it true that the Southsouth in general, and the Niger Delta in particular have always aligned with the North in federal elections since at least the second republic? Dokubo asserted that “nobody calling himself progressive would go and align with feudalists.” This is a valid point; but it begs a question: Do we identify feudalism with ethnic nationalities or with mindsets and practices? Do we dismiss offhand the prospect of progressive policies coming out of particular groups and individuals just because of their ethnic origin? This appears to be Dokubo’s challenge and the challenge of all of us having been so caught up in ethnic politics and name calling that are detrimental to whatever aspirations we have as a nation.

Recently, I came across a YouTube video on the visit of the late Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa to the John F. Kennedy White House in 1963 and I was pleasantly surprised. I never heard Alhaji Balewa speak during his lifetime, and watching that video sparked in me a pride in the founding fathers of this country that I found myself giving a standing ovation at the end of the video. Balewa spoke with class. He was articulate and confident. His speeches were brief, casual and off-the-cuff, yet profound. Of course, we could disagree about the policies of his party but we should now learn that name calling is a game beneath our collective dignity as a nation. After all, no one has a monopoly over such practices.

The second question is this: in what sense is the proposed merger of four parties into APC an alliance with any particular zonal establishment? The parties are spread all over the country. While ACN has control of state houses across the Southwest, it also draws membership and National Assembly members from other zones. The leaders of the merging parties have consistently declared their intention to uphold the principle of internal democracy within the party and in particular in the matter of the choice of flag bearers at all levels. Yet the scaremongers cannot wait for the party to emerge and demonstrate its commitment to democratic principles. They want to cause so much stress for the pregnancy so that their desire for a miscarriage would be realised. In whose interest is this?

Here then is the paradox. The leaders of the proposed APC have been so methodical and deliberative in their choices that opponents are so scared about the possibilities and potentialities of the party that they would rather not have it come to life. The deliberativeness is not just about the months of dialogue and negotiations; it is not just about the choice of ideologies and manifesto. It is also about symbolism. When they chose the name of the proposed party, they came up with an acronym that carries so much symbolism that it scares the hell out of the opposition: if you have a headache, APC is the answer. In case you are molested by kidnappers and armed robbers, we are the Armoured Personnel Carriers (APC). In a political universe where symbols are sometimes much more effective than substance, it is not uncommon for the sensibilities of the electorate to be attracted to such eye-catching symbol as the broom and the promising chorus of “change” that comes with APC.

There is a third question: if the reasoning of the NDPVF leader is valid, why can’t the Northern zones be apprehensive of an alliance with the Southwest since indeed, the ACN can boast of its strength and the widespread nature of its mandate? It seems that the thinking here is that what makes an alliance with CPC so scary is that the North can consume its partners. Yet in the same breath Dokubo suggested that former President Obasanjo, a Yoruba, “changed the political landscape” because he made “a conscious effort to create a balance in the patronage distribution in Nigeria.” But it was very clear to all in 1999 that the North wanted Obasanjo as president and voted overwhelmingly for the PDP. Was that not an alliance with the Northern establishment?

The bottom line is this. APC is becoming a reality and there is palpable fear concerning its impact in the political scene in 2015 and beyond. Whatever side one takes—for APC, PDP or against both—the one benefit that the nation as a whole stands to gain from the emergence of a strong APC is the deepening of democratic norms and practices. Two strong parties vying for acceptance by the electorate at the center is the best thing that would happen to the country since the aborted third republic.

What makes this approach better than the Babangida initiative of a two-party system is that it would have evolved from the practice of democracy itself. Having learned the importance of numbers, and having benefitted from the frustration of the people with the ruling party and the lackluster leadership at the centre, political sense dictates the rationality of splinter parties coming together under one umbrella for a common cause. Of course, the new party must have to show that it is different, not just in terms of symbols but more importantly in terms of the substance of its programs encapsulated and effectively articulated in its manifesto.

Courageous. Honest. Humble. Smart. Tenacious. Loyal. Beautiful.These are a few of the numerous adjectives that, friends and admirers have used to describe the late Mrs. Funmilayo Olayinka, also known as Moremi Ekiti, the amiable Deputy Governor of Ekiti State until her passing on April 6, 2013. She was a noble soul whose sojourn on mother earth, though short, was wrapped in meaning. According to our human understanding she left the stage too soon; but she left behind a lasting footprint on the sands of time, and, hopefully, one that can initiate a tradition of excellence and selfless commitment to public service.

The adjectives that describe Funmi Olayinka are commonly deployed by many of us without paying attention to the reality that they depict. The danger here is that they get applied frequently even in situations where they hardly fit. It is therefore essential to remind ourselves of what they require and why they apply so fittingly to Funmi.

Courage is one of the most important virtues. A courageous person is one who does the right thing even when it is clearly too risky. Going into politics, especially in Nigeria, and particularly for a woman carries a lot of risk. Beside the physical threat to life, there is the threat to integrity and honour. It is said that fear and courage are cousins between who there is always sibling rivalry. Victory for one is defeat for the other. Naturally, we are disposed to fear in the face of danger. The person that faces danger head-on, knowing that she intends to fight for what is right and just and is not subdued by fear, is the courageous person. That was the decision that Funmi Olayinka and Kayode Fayemi made, going into the murky waters of Ekiti politics. They were both comfortable as successful professionals. But they saw the decay and they were moved. But they also noticed that political discourse in the Land of Honour was anything but honorable. Faint hearts would cringe. But as the famous jurist, Oliver Wendell Holmes observed, there can be no courage unless you are scared. Kayode and Funmi went ahead and plunged in. That is what courage means.

In the course of the campaign, the election, and the subsequent thwarting of the people’s will, Funmi was steadfast. She could betray the cause as some did. She could jump ship. She could make herself available to the highest bidder. Not a few did just that. But Funmi didn’t. She stayed strong even when hope dimmed and all appeared to be lost. That was courage. It was also loyalty, not to a man, but to a cause that is larger than any human.

Funmi’s close friends and associates, including Erelu Bisi Fayemi, have recounted how she faced her health ordeal with courage and complete surrender to the will of her maker. Many of her colleagues in and outside the government hardly knew what she was going through. Indeed, as late as September 2012, when she must have been weakened by chemotherapy, she represented the Chairman of Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN) at an event in Ireland. She bore the fate of her life with dignity and grace. That was courage at its best.

It is easy, but wrong, to associate loyalty with blind allegiance to a person or cause. Dictators value loyalty which they wrongly identify with patriotism. Philosopher Josiah Royce defines loyalty as “the willing and practical and thoroughgoing devotion of a person to a cause.” By a cause, Royce means something that is objective, in the sense that it is beyond oneself, and it is good. It was clear from her life story that Funmi has always placed the cause of transforming Ekiti State in the centre of her political mission. She subscribed wholly to the Fayemi administration’s eight-point agenda and was in the forefront of the implementation. Her loyalty was not blind; it was not misplaced because the governor acknowledged her contributions and respected her as an invaluable colleague by giving her the responsibilities that befit her office and skills. And she delivered.

Loyalty to a cause also implies honesty in the pursuit of the cause. It is easy to embrace fraudulence and deceit especially in public service in our clime. It takes courage to embrace honesty as the best policy. Indeed, as Immanuel Kant puts it, honesty is not just the best policy, it is the only policy.Funmi radiated honesty and everyone around her attested to this fact. During the campaign and the struggle to reclaim their mandate, she was entrusted with the coordination of resources and she demonstrated not just the professional competence that was essential to success but also the virtues of integrity and rectitude that were indispensable to building trust among the grass-root and foot soldiers.

All religions and moral systems consider humility as a virtue. The humble will inherit the earth. But humility can be misconstrued, especially when it is taken by others as a sign of weakness. The goodness of humility may be abused as foolishness and taken advantage of. Even in the face of such a risk, again, the courageous person does the right thing; humble herself before her God and fellow humans. The reward is what we are witnessing today in the case of Funmi. The person who showed respect for everyone around her is now receiving an unprecedented level of respect as she takes her leave. She was humble but not humbled.

It was in this matter of the quality of Funmi’s humility that I first encountered her. Four summers ago, I was on a short vacation and had paid a visit to Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu at his Ikoyi residence. I sat in his living room with a number of guests, including Funmi who I had not met before that time. She and I exchanged greetings with her going the way of Yoruba custom and tradition. It was at that point that Asiwaju came out and asked if I had met the future Deputy Governor of Ekiti State. I was embarrassed to say no. Funmi’s gracious response was: “Prof, I am one of the fans of your column.”

As in the matter of courage, tenacity implies hanging in even in the face of extreme difficulties. It is not being stubborn; it is being thoughtfully hopeful. A tenacious personality is persistently hopeful that things will turn around for the better while she is also action-oriented and works towards the set goal. Every aspect of her short life points to the virtue of tenacity in Funmi’s personality. You cannot have a good purposeful education without being tenacious. You cannot be on the Dean’s Honour Roll for four years without being tenacious. You cannot succeed in the murky waters of Nigerian politics without being tenacious. And in the face of the most scary health challenges that a human being can face, you cannot deal with them and still maintain your dignity and grace without the virtue of tenacity. In all of these Funmi excelled, and succeeded in teaching all of us the important lessons of life even as the avatar once taught us: it is not life that matters but the courage that you bring into it. She brought in a lot of courage and tenacity to life. For this we must be grateful.

We must also be grateful for her smartness and the opportunity afforded the people of the Land of Honour to benefit from her intellect. It takes a lot of wit to perform successfully the oversight functions over such sensitive and strategic agencies as the Muslim Pilgrims Welfare Board, Christian Pilgrims Welfare Board, State Emergency Relief Agency, Boundary Commission, Ministry of Local Government and Chieftaincy Affairs, and many others. One anecdotal report suggests that whenever she presided over the meeting of the State Executive Council in the absence of the governor, members dared not to be late because “mama” was going to preside. In what may be perceived as a “man’s world, Funmi earned the respect of her peers and subordinates. To crown it all, as Mrs. Funso Adegbola elegantly put it, Funmi was beautiful inside out. It appeared to me that it was the inside beauty that reflected so gracefully outside. An amazon paid us a short visit and left us asking for more. So long, virtuous woman!