By Segun Gbadegesin

These are trying times. Insecurity has become the unfortunate norm and tension is understandably high. Between the rulers and the ruled, there is a deep-seated mistrust. One-time partners have suddenly become bitter adversaries. Before we approach the precipice of national existence, it is a good time to remind ourselves about what we owe each other. But to come to terms with what we owe each other, we must first understand what we have in common. What binds us together such that it demands of each of us specific obligations toward the other?

What we have in common is not a common ethnicity. Neither is it a common citizenship. Nor is it a common religion. While some of us have each of these in common, each is also a basis for differentiation in other respects. Citizens are different from aliens in respect of their relationship to the nation. But there is something that a citizen has in common with a resident alien. And there is something an Orisa worshipper has in common with a Muslim even when they differ on account of the Being they worship.

Our common humanity is what binds us together despite the artificial differences of ethnicity, nationality, or religion. The same blood runs through our veins. We share the dualism of body and soul. In addition to being commonly susceptible to physical and emotional pain and suffering, we also possess in common the distinctive quality of dignity which makes us objects of respect. We have the ability to think and plan our future and we have the inbuilt capacity to empathize with others.

Now, while everyone readily concurs that he or she is endowed with every quality in the foregoing characterization of our common humanity, not everyone acts in ways that show or demonstrate that he or she recognizes the humanity of others. If we all did, we would not have the unfortunate cases of inhumanity of humans against fellow humans. We would not have kidnappers dehumanizing other human beings. We would not have killer herders maiming farmers and destroying their crops for the sake of cows.

The crux of what we owe each other is the recognition of our common humanity, its essential character, its basic needs and requirements, and the willingness, when we are able, to help facilitate its triumph over handicaps and obstacles. And since most of us claim allegiance to one or another religion, it is important to underscore the fact that this demand of recognition is the least common denominator of all religions.

But it is not just the monopoly of religion. It is also at the heart of every humanistic ethos.

What does such a recognition entail? What are we required to avoid doing or to do when we recognize the common humanity of others? Both religious and secular ethics settle on these two broad categories: things we must not do and things we must do. For don’ts, we are enjoined not to kill, steal, or defraud others, etc. For do’s, we are enjoined to help others in need. Perhaps, for reason of enforceability, our laws and statutes focus on the former rather than the later. We don’t generally have laws enforcing the obligation of charity.

Let us admit that a general observance of the don’ts in our legal system would serve us well as it ensures a peaceful and stable society, which in turn may enhance our individual ability to take care of ourselves without needing the charity of others. This is why the enforcement of those laws are of prime importance and why a society in which they are not, must be deemed as violating the requirement to recognize and respect our common humanity. It is also why we are gravely disappointed when our elected officials fail in their responsibility to enforce the law, thus endangering our common humanity.

When laws that are supposed to enforce citizens’ obligation to refrain from harming other citizens are trampled upon and government feigns ignorance or appears helpless, citizens are at the mercy of criminals as their humanity is abused and disrespected. We just heard about the pain of parents losing their job-seeking young daughter to a rapist-killer! It hurts and demeans us all.

We have an obligation to speak out in protest. We owe the young victim a duty in virtue of the common humanity we share to not let her killers escape justice. Furthermore, we owe each other the obligation to struggle to prevent a future occurrence. When we hear of protests motivated by systemic injustice in other climes, it is this obligation that individuals rally to discharge. Our common humanity beckons us to similar conduct. It may be misconstrued by governments as illegitimate or hostile, but that is their take. Ours is respect for the common humanity that they sometimes despise.

As important as the duty to refrain from harming others is, it doesn’t exhaust our moral obligations. Importantly, we have an obligation to help others. This is especially important in the time and era that we find ourselves with many people hurting through no fault of their own. And just as the duty to refrain from harming others, the duty to help is also common to all ethical traditions.

In African traditional religions, as in almost every known religious tradition, emphasis is placed on kindness, not just to relatives but also to strangers. In the Orisa tradition of the Yoruba, Orunmila admonishes his followers to be kind because kindness begets kindness. We are assured that the calabash of a kind person doesn’t break. The dish of a kind person doesn’t crack. Instead, a kind person will have an abundance of wealth and children. In other words, there is no regret in practicing kindness.

Zakat is a core obligation in Islam. Muslims are required to help the poor and needy in proportion to their means. They are urged to be liberal in giving because whatever good they send off before their souls, they shall find it with Allah, echoing the Biblical injunction to Christians to provide for their house in Heaven by giving to the needy here on earth.

In the Christian faith, Jesus Christ personified this attitude to humanity with his own ministry of teaching, healing, and compassion. He did not just focus on evangelization. He deliberately sought after the welfare and wellbeing of people. Whenever he saw his followers in pain or in need, he had compassion over them. It was this compassion that led him to feed 5000 people and 4000 people on different occasions.

Jesus also taught compassion. With the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus established charity as a requirement for the faithful, insisting that our neighbors are not necessarily those living next door to us. They are whoever crosses our path and needs our help. As we also see in that parable, we don’t have to have a common ethnicity or religion. The Levite who bypassed the robbery victim was of Jewish origin and faith as the victim. The Good Samaritan, on the other hand, was of a different faith. Yet he was used by God to come to the aid of a Jew because he saw in him a common humanity.

On their part, secular philosophers of various persuasions are united in their embrace of charity as our moral obligation. We are to act in such a way as to bring about the most good or happiness. Lack of basic needs detracts from human happiness. Not knowing where the next meal will come from is stressful. Many children face such predicaments for no fault of their own. If we are endowed, we have an obligation to help those less endowed.

And should anyone feel unmotivated to help others, he or she must remember that by having such a mindset, he or she is signaling to others to have the same mindset. The problem is that since no one knows the future, everyone soon need the help of others, but will not get it because others would have shared her or his uncaring mindset.

Make the world better for humanity. Lend a hand to those in need.

By Segun Gbadegesin

From Aristotelian theory of physics and modern theory of spiritualism, we may infer a theory of social and political life with insecurity as its signpost. Its central thesis is that insecurity is a function of the vacuum created by weak leadership, inadequate structures and policies that neglect the welfare of citizens, especially the youth. Simplistic in its formulation, its appeal is its explanatory import.

In one of his most interesting theories, the Master of Those Who Know, observe that there cannot be an empty space in nature because for every such potential void, there is matter to fill it up. Nature abhors a vacuum. We know, of course, that later theorists refute this theory. But Aristotle’s proposition soon took on a life of its own and it has since become a popular idiom in psychology, spiritualism, business and yes, politics.

Consider spiritualism. If we have a tripartite nature comprising body, soul, and spirit as many worldviews, including our traditional offerings suggest, then all three need to be catered to. And since we tend to prioritize the spiritual for various reasons, including personal worries about the unknown, it is not a surprise that we have grown a thriving industry to serve this need.

But where and when moderation takes a flight, and we sense a void that is not satisfied by existing spiritual agencies, that void will be filled up quickly with the emergence of extremist and fake tendencies. Thus, cults and violent jihadists. A free society with a liberal posture to the expression of spiritual values, but limited interest in the development of the mind, is therefore susceptible to this destructive urge.

That our society has little to no interest in the development of the mind is not a creepy observation. Our colonial and first republic experience was far more positive in the matter of a laser focus on education. The federal and regional budgets devoted a healthy attention to education and this translated into great achievements which also guaranteed us an efficient civil service, productive private enterprise and responsible governance structures.

Now, turn to every HDI in the last 20 years and you’d be sorry for the children that we are bringing up. The 2020 figure of 0.539 which classifies us as one of the lowest in the world was the highest since 2003. This gives us a good idea of what has been the lot of our children. Without opportunities of a normal life, a void is created and nature abhors a void. Something somehow must fill the void. Cultism beckons. They answer.

This is really what feeds into every cycle of angst in social life and we seem to have no grip on how to get out of it. The minds that we refuse to develop and equip with sellable productive skills will be available for destructive ventures. Ancestral wisdom teaches us as much: the child that we refuse to train will end up auctioning off the house that we build. While we are proud of our undistracted focus on infrastructural development, hoodlums with their minds set on making quick bucks of the expensive gadgets are busy formulating their plans. It’s already happening.

One face of insecurity, its root cause, is the society’s abandonment of its social responsibility of educating the youth functionally and qualitatively and instead leaving them to fend for themselves. The other face is society’s neglect of its responsibility to provide adequate security for members. It’s a no brainier. If you refuse to do your part to develop your children so they can live responsibly and contribute positively to social life, then at least be sure you secure yourself firmly so your peace is not shattered by those you refuse to train. This we refuse to do. So, what do we really expect?

I know. Someone will be quick to tell me that there is crime in every society, including the most advanced. And it includes crimes committed by the most developed minds. True indeed! What makes the difference between ours and such societies is that they have a well-developed security and crime-bursting system while we fail on both scores. The rate of unsolved crimes in such societies is negligible compared to ours. And because of our lack, the vacuum thus created is easily filled. How?

With a weak intelligence and crime bursting system, corrupt officials are quick to fill the void, creating a graft industry that feeds on the innocent and denies them of justice. This also has its repercussions as frustrated citizens handicapped in the system seek other means. Jungle justice is born out of such frustration. It is easily predictable.

Read Also: Biola Adebayo: Don’t expect perfection in my marriage

Bandits, kidnappers and killer herdsmen flaunt their AK-47s unchallenged. They invade farms, schools and residential neighborhoods, cowing their victims into submission. This may trigger a response from daredevil avengers with a mission, thus filling the vacuum. And they may be joined by hoodlums who have nothing to lose. It’s happening before our very eyes and we are at a loss. But we created the void.

Our response thus far has been to create more official terror as a counter to what we consider to be illegal sources of the terror inflicted on citizens. It has not worked because even in this effort, we create huge vacuum. We pump funds into the weapons industry for use of police and soldiers but a fraction of such funds get used for the purpose.

To avoid the anarchy of the state of nature, in which the vacuum created by an absence of a competent authority is filled by warring groups competing for scarce resources, we created government represented by the state. We reject monarchical institutions in favor of a democratic republic that is expected to cater for the social, economic, and security needs of all. But we know that the spirit of anarchy that exists in the state of nature still lurks around the state. With competent leadership, the threat of anarchy remains subdued. However, with weak leadership, a vacuum is created, and anarchical tendencies quickly rally to fill the void. This is happening.

National unity is our buzz word. We invoke it at every opportunity as evidence of our patriotic zeal. We deplore ethnic and tribal sympathies. Surprisingly, we fail to recognize that while the latter are the first sentiments we are oriented into and they don’t need much help to be operationalized, supranationalism beyond ethnic nationalism requires hard work with a leadership that is above board. That is, a leadership that is seen as playing the role of a supranationalist without being a closet ethnic nationalist. When this is missing, a vacuum is created in national life and ethnicity quickly moves in. This is happening.

How does a progressive government respond to this phenomenon? The success of progressivism in the last years of colonialism and the first few years of independence in this country is a pointer in the right direction for an answer to this question. Progressivism is people-centered, placing them above structures and materials. Their welfare is prioritized and the development of their mind is number one on its agenda. A progressive government that abandons this model is so only in name.

In terms of policies, we have failed the generation of youths roaming round our cities. Take education as an example. We are granting more and more university licenses even though millions of our youths are rejected admission and we have no other avenues for them to advance. We are not even providing the budget needed to make these universities operate optimally. And we are training students to become worthless graduates who cannot complete in the marketplace of skills.

Yet we neglect to invest in youths’ acquisition of middle level skills that can trigger development in the technological-information age. The federal government can lead efforts in technological education with the establishment of technical schools as we used to have in the first republic. If we do, we would absorb from the streets high school graduates with no prospects of university admission, whose eyes are now so deviously set on cultism and other crimes. We will fill the void with useful and productive ventures.

Just a thought!

By Segun Gbadegesin

Who is really rooting for national unity? I don’t mean enforcing. And I certainly don’t mean imposing. What’s the difference?

Between 1967 and 1970, the Gowon military administration fought a civil war against secessionist Biafra. “To keep Nigeria one is a task that must be done” was the rallying battle cry. Biafra lost. But even with a compassionate “no victor, no vanquished” declaration, winning had consequences. National unity was enforced on the battle field and imposed on the country.

Half a century later, we know how that enforcement and imposition worked. Agitation for Biafra has never been louder. The nation now faces deepening disaffection across other zones and agitation for self-determination and declaration of autonomous republics in the Southsouth and Southwest.

How is it that fifty years after a devastating civil war with two million souls lost, we are still this much divided? And the political leadership, and yes, the military leadership that fought that war and supervised the nation for much of that time, have failed so woefully in forging national unity?

There have been two approaches to addressing these questions. One is the pessimist’s “what do you expect?” shoulder-shrug answer. “Have you come across a nation-state such as ours begotten by a colonial or other external imposition, ruled under a divide-and-conquer strategy, survive and prosper as one nation? If not, why do you expect a miracle in Nigeria?”

The second approach, a combination of philosophical and metaphysical-religious answer, is an attempt at addressing the rhetorical query of the first. It argues that the past is not a guaranteed evidence of the future. That the sun has risen every day in the past millennials isn’t sufficient to conclude that it will rise tomorrow. By extension, the fact that colonial imposition of nationhood on disparate entities has not succeeded anywhere, if true, isn’t sufficient for the inference that it will not succeed in any one particular case. From the failure of nation-state in former Yugoslavia, USSR, or Czechoslovakia, it doesn’t follow that it cannot succeed in Nigeria.

Following from the philosophical answer, the metaphysical-religious answer then hits us with a fait accompli. God was the reason for the British colonization of the pre-Nigeria entities. God was responsible for the amalgamation of 1914. Without God the British would not overpower 250 nationalities and force them into one nation. And what God joins together, humans must not try to put asunder. This approach, incidentally, has been favored by our political, military and religious leaders, especially in trying times.

Going by the famed religiosity of all the ethnic nationalities that people the Nigerian geographical space, the preceding approach should normally click in our consciousness. We should accept the verdict of the Almighty in our lives and trust that the One who caused it has the power to fix it. Why has it not worked that way? Is it because the human spirit tends to rebel against its creator? Or is there more to the will of God that has not been reflected in our national experience and which we earnestly seek after?

The attractiveness of God in every religious persuasion is that God, as a God of justice and fairness, abhors injustice, hates oppression, is contemptuous of discrimination, and condemns marginalization. Every Holy Book attests to this nature of God. And prophets of old who were much closer to the Divine mind and through whom the will of the Almighty was revealed from time to time, not only attested to this, they also engaged in real struggle for justice. “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream”, Prophet Amos preached.

If God requires justice of his creation, then where it is lacking, the people have a right to seek redress, and in the event that redress is denied, the struggle for separation may be justified. Thus, the elders of Israel approached King Rehoboam, begging him to lighten their burden. They rooted for unity and were reluctant to seek separation. It was when the King denied their appeal that they retreated to their separate tents.

Our leaders embrace the metaphysical-religious approach stated above. For them, Nigeria is destined to be a nation. But we have experienced crises of injustice and unfairness. We are at a breaking point of malaise. From complaints about growing insecurity, too much centralization and lopsided political structure, to marginalization in federal appointments, ethnic nationalities have raised their voices separately to high heavens. What has not happened is a national synchronization of voices on a multi-nationality, multi-religion, multi-professional basis in the search for answer and resolution.

Let me explain with an example from our recent experience. The struggle for the return of civil democracy in the depth of military abuse of political power in the 1990s was fought on many fronts. But we cannot deny that the most effective of these fronts were the national ones when various political and professional groups coalesced into formidable national groups that cut across ethnic and religious divides. In the homeland there were NADECO, UAD, CD, G34, and others. In the diaspora, there were WCFN, UDFN, NADECO-Abroad, and others.

Such national coalition of forces, made up of concerned citizens from diverse backgrounds, ensures that their agitation is taken seriously and political leaders are not paranoid about ethnic or sectarian bias against them.

Who are the stakeholders in the project of national unity and what influence do they have?

Traditional rulers surely have a stake. But they do not have a constitutional role, which they have been seeking. Besides, the national entity representing them is a government creation. What credible independence can they have to make a difference? Clerics who ought to do more by combining their voices as oracles of the divine being are only after increasing their size of followership, thus acerbating the gulf of division. Elective officials don’t always behave as if they have a huge stake in national unity. They are after winning elections and ruling, especially at the center, where the resources are. Many pay lip service to unity without lifting a finger to make it happen.

Youths certainly have a stake in what becomes of Nigeria. Unfortunately, they are handicapped and therefore ineffective, because their present itself is mired in uncertainty as the group most negatively impacted by the trajectory of the nation. Professionals have a stake in the success of project Nigeria. They are nationalistic in outlook with pan- national organizations such as NBA and NLC.  They are in a strong position to do more to impact the discourse on what must be done to ensure unity and avoid another civil war.

This brings us to zonal elders. When an elder is around, a new baby is not born with a crooked head, is the Yoruba view of the role of elders in a community. And when elders are missing, then a community is not far from destruction. Elders and zonal leaders across the country have been vocal in articulating their various nationality concerns, be it on marginalization, kidnapping, farmer-herdsmen attacks, or cultism and banditry. They have held separate nationality summits where the S-word has sometimes featured.

What they have avoided thus far is to follow the example of the elders of Israel in their petition to Rehoboam. Ethnic nationalities must now mobilize their representatives from various zones, get together, and work out a proposal on the conditions for national unity for the deliberation of Mr. President, NASS, and the National Council of State.

I do not see why there can be no agreement on such conditions. Through various organizations and outlets, Northern zones have indicated that they are not against restructuring. Characteristically, Southern zones have always insisted on restructuring as basis for national progress and advancement. While frustrated groups have been vocal about secession, the major organizations across the Southern zones have focused demands on restructuring.

These Southern zonal leaders must now get out of their comfort zones, reach out to their Northern counterparts for inter-zonal meetings to resolve this perennial problem. Then we’d know who’s rooting for national unity. Otherwise, such a meeting may also determine the terms of peaceful separation. Heaven will not fall!

By Segun Gbadegesin

The sad news of the untimely passing of Yinka Odumakin, the spokesperson of Afenifere, the Yoruba socio-political organization in the frontline of democratic and federalist struggles since 1951, hit the nation like a political tsunami last Saturday. And we are yet to recover from the shock.

How can it be that such a young life, with yet a lot to contribute, was called home without notice or warning? Doesn’t it mean that, as Camus and several other philosophers insist, life has no meaning? That like Sisyphus, we are punished and condemned to a repetitive pursuit of meaningless tasks? Sisyphus’ task was to ceaselessly push a boulder up a mountain only to experience it roll down over and over.

As Yinka’s life and many before him demonstrated, our condition seems no less dire. We make tireless efforts to push many different types of boulders up our mountains of life. Though Camus presented Sisyphus’ pointless task as a metaphor for modern work life, it is even more so for our more grandiose endeavors, especially for the few that take on the thankless burden of the struggle for fairness and justice in our national life.

Will it ever end? Are we going to ever exhale? Is it really worth it? And why does the burden have to be so disproportionately shared? Go back to the earliest struggle for independence. The warriors against colonialism thought that their task was going to be done with the attainment of independence. They were going to set the country on the path of development and progress.

But it was not to be because the crown of achievement did not go to the tested fighters. And a change of course had to ensue. From fighting externally imposed oppression to struggling against the internally generated tripartite evil of injustice, poverty and ignorance.

Since 1960 the struggle has taken many twists and turns. It has led to the untimely passing of patriots, too numerous to mention, who took it seriously and made it their life course. Yet it has not been half won. Can it be won? Aren’t the conscientious among us condemned to a life of endless pursuit of justice which is, in the end, unattainable? Isn’t this the meaninglessness that Camus is deeply concerned about? If so, what is the answer?

Camus rejects suicide as a response to the absurdity of individual life, a contradiction that ensues when human reason confronts an unreasonable world. By the same token, we must acknowledge the contradiction of our rational expectation of a just world and the irrational order of injustice. But we must live this contradiction, not evade it. How?

In what may strike us as resignation to fate or acceptance of defeat, Camus thinks that Sisyphus is a free man once he realizes the sealing of his fate in the futile task that the gods assign him. At that point, we “must imagine Sisyphus happy”, Camus concludes.

But no! How can we give up the struggle for justice? Just because it is not achieved in our lifetime doesn’t mean that it will never be achieved. Somehow, Camus himself gives us a path to this conclusion when, in an apparent acknowledgment of our human nature, he implies that we cannot permanently accept the absurdity of the human condition. We always have to confront it and revolt against it.

Yinka Odumakin’s obsessions and struggles typified the indomitable human urge to confront and revolt, an urge that is irrepressible even with the realization of the absurdity of our condition. From his days as a student union executive to his pro-democracy struggle against military dictatorship, and his fight for a true federal democracy in Nigeria, Yinka was a passionate defender of his conviction.

I met Yinka online before I met him in person. After he took over as the Publicity Secretary of Afenifere, he and I corresponded on issues of interest to the Yoruba, and my online communication with Baba Abraham Adesanya was mediated through him. He had a powerful understanding of the fundamental issues, and he analyzed them with surgical precision. When I finally met him at the Jibowu secretariat of Afenifere, I was pleasantly surprised by his youthfulness, and hopeful for the future of the nation.

Over the years, Yinka threw the full weight of his intellect into the struggle for restructuring the Nigerian federal system toward a more just and equitable governance structure. While justice and equity are values worth fighting for in themselves, it is also important to understand that they are not abstract values. We must recognize them as instrumental values for peace, stability and national progress. Yinka understood this.

The sea of young heads that roam our urban centers daily are victims of a centralized federal system that cannot possibly provide employment opportunities for its urban youths talk less of the forgotten ruralites. This is why our place in the Human Development Index has been abysmally and dangerously static in the past two decades. Yinka knew this. And a restless soul like his would not stop fighting while he still had the breath of life.

Baba Adesanya was our hero. As president of Egbe Omo Yoruba between 1997 and 1999, I worked closely with him. He inspired us. We saw him as our pillar of strength. If he wasn’t tired at his age, we shouldn’t be. And he provided Afenifere with strong and ethical leadership.

The murder of Chief Bola Ige, the handling of the 2003 elections, and the internal wrangling that followed, proved to be an existential threat to Afenifere.  I was distraught when Baba Adesanya became ill and died. Yinka and I discussed these matters and I shared his sense of disillusionment. I think he left Afenifere for a while before he returned. And he returned because he felt strongly that Afenifere can still lead the restructuring agenda of the Yoruba.

In and out of Afenifere, however, Yinka did not lose his bearing. At home and abroad, he contributed superior ideas when called upon. Whether in Tampa, Florida on the invitation of Egbe Omo Yoruba North America, or on Yoruba Gbode radio program hosted by Sola Aiwinilomo, or in Washington DC with Yoruba intellectuals, Yinka stood out as a passionate advocate of true federalism. In All the Way: Serving with Conscience, I make copious references to Yinka’s activities and contributions to the continuous struggle for true and fiscal federalism.

It is not unusual, neither should it be a surprise that such a passion, buoyed by the exuberance of age, would sometimes break out in uncontrolled utterances which may strike us as beyond the norm of decency. We know that such occurrences were unfortunate. But we also know that they were not from the heart. And we know, because Yinka said so. On the last occasion we were both on the Yoruba Gbode program, he was asked. And he thoughtfully responded that he bore no grudge against anyone. He also said that he would support whoever the Yoruba people put forward in the contest for the presidency.

On a personal level, Yinka was a dependable ally, taking on assignments without asking for any favor. He and Hon. Wale Oshun were helpful in mobilizing members of Afenifere Renewal Group to my son’s traditional wedding in Port-Harcourt in December 2008. In 2015, Yinka was out of the country during my 70th birthday celebration in Lagos. When he got back, we couldn’t arrange a meeting before I had to head to the airport for my departure. However, Yinka made sure that he met me at the airport to say goodbye. In 2017, Okeho had its centennial celebration. Yinka personally sponsored a jingle on his Radio station. He was on his way to the ceremony in Okeho but had a vehicle breakdown. That is who he was. A friend indeed.

With such a torrent of tributes from across the country, including the personal touch of some of those that many would consider as his adversaries, we can rest assured that Yinka’s soul is already at peace. The Great Comforter will comfort his loving wife and aged parents.

We will understand it better by and by.

By Segun Gbadegesin

I want to discuss rural Nigeria and its unfair burden of existence. But I must confess that I face a real burden of definition. The rural-urban divide has been variously characterized, by the density of population, nature of predominant occupation, prevalence of factories and industries, and availability of utilities, including electricity and potable water.

For some experts, rural communities come in different shapes and sizes, with populations ranging from less than 2500 to more than 10,000 most of whom engage in subsistence agriculture, and having large swaths of undeveloped land. There are no factories or industries, and are largely without access to essential utilities.

While this description may be useful for neat classification, it achieves neatness at the expense of functionality. It is more rewarding to see the rural-urban divide as a continuum, the two ends of which define the extremes of rurality and urbanity. Between these two poles, there is a vast middle which can go either way. What is most important for my focus here, however, is how this vast middle is treated policy-wise.

Let us note that going by the population criterion, many local government areas in the country will not qualify as rural. The lowest of them had 37,000 in 2006 with a projection of 51,000 for 2016. But while this number is for an entire local government, villages and towns within it will have much less. It is therefore within the realm of possibility that even some local government headquarters may qualify as rural.

Being rural should not be a curse. Indeed, in view of the congestion of urban cities, rural living should be a preferred alternative. That is, where government policies make rural living bearable and comfortable. Were this to be the case, an additional great consequence would be a desirable reduction in rural-urban migration and thus in the problems and challenges of urban congestion.

But consider with me the following true stories:

1. A rural community hospital was allocated medical equipment by the state government. But shortly after delivery, and before the hospital started using the equipment, the same state government sent a truck to evacuate the equipment for reallocation to a general hospital in the state capital. It took a loud protest of the community leaders and several trips to the state capital before the matter was resolved and the governor backed down.
2. Armed robbers attacked a rural community bank and the police station in town, damaging the armory and the entire building. Residents mobilized and counter attacked the armed robbers, arrested them and handed them over to the police. The police unit was withdrawn from the town because they cannot use the damaged building and will not agree to a temporary location in town. The community had to bear the cost of repairing the police station.
3. Security in rural communities is as dicey as in urban capitals. But while capital cities can rely on full security details, Operation Gbale, Operation Burst, etc. without authorities imposing financial burden on residents, rural communities, including local government headquarters, are almost always made to bear the financial burden for the provision of essentials such as housing, power supply, and general upkeep of security details in their communities.
4. Rural communities struggle to have higher institutions located for the benefit of their young ones. It would also draw development to the communities and reduce rural-urban migration with its many attendant problems. But while urbanites and residents of state capitals never have to make contributions towards the location of higher institutions in their cities, rural communities are not so lucky. They have to provide land, build classrooms, and supply equipment.

The above is just a snippet from one corner of the country. But I am sure it will resonate with rural residents of other states. Is this fair or just? What does justice demand or require in the distribution of benefits and burdens of social life between rural dwellers and urbanites, between capitals and peripheries?

Let me suggest that the question of the fairness or justice, or indeed, the defensibility of each of the cases above is not a simple straightforward issue. Sure, each of them appears unfair on its face value. But I can see an approach that tries to justify one or two of them.

Consider the first case of a governor ordering the removal of medical equipment from one rural hospital to an urban hospital. What could be his justification?  From a policy perspective, he may argue that the equipment can be put to better use for a greater number of people in the urban hospital. This is a utilitarian perspective. Whether this was the governor’s explicit rationale or whether his was just a contemptuous disregard for the humanity of the rural community is hard to tell. Matters of motivation are notoriously indecipherable.

Indeed, the consideration of a contemptuous attitude cannot be ruled out in view of the government’s modus operandi in the matter. A truck just showed up in the driveway of the hospital to remove the equipment. There wasn’t any prior consultation with the community. There was no explanation. There was no offer of alternatives.

But assume that the governor was motivated by utilitarian considerations and his calculation was that more people stood to benefit from the equipment in the city than in the rural area. Doesn’t such a policy amount to an unjust sacrifice of the health of rural dwellers for the wellbeing of the city dwellers? And if considerations of utility are the yardstick for distributing the benefits and burdens of social life across communities, will rural communities with less population ever be advantaged? This is the heart of the challenge of the social policies that we have favored as a nation.

The second case is even a more egregious violation of the demand of justice without a redeeming utilitarian value. It is a case of punishing a community for a crime committed by armed robbers. This, despite the bravery the community residents demonstrated in repelling the attack and getting the robbers arrested. Why should it be the responsibility of the community to rebuild the police station? What are security votes for?

Even more repugnant to good governance was the fact that the police personnel were completely withdrawn from the community until the station was certified as repaired. Even after the certification, it took the intervention of a God-fearing Abuja-based senior police officer to demand that the police be returned to their post in the town. Did the government care that other armed robbers or bandits may have taken advantage of the vacuum they created?

Now, the government is not without a possible defence in both cases. It may be argued that rural communities contribute less to the social pool of resources than urban areas and state capitals. And if we are concerned about justice, it should not just be about the fairness of distribution, it should most importantly be a reflection of the fairness of contribution. What is contributed is what is distributed. This argument would make sense if it was really true in our context. The truth of the matter is that most Nigerians are not tax payers. Since the early seventies, the nation has depended on oil revenue than income taxes for projects and services. Therefore, scapegoating rural communities is itself an unfair attack.

These two cases demonstrate the fact that the cause of justice is not served by how we treat our rural communities. But as important as justice is, we should also worry that the consequence of such policies is detrimental to peace and stability.

Rural communities hardly riot or stage protest rallies. So the effect of such policies on peace is at best indirect. One such is increased rural-urban migration when young ones, lacking opportunity for progress and development in their communities, relocate to urban centers and state capitals. Without sellable skills, they typically become vagabonds, easily radicalized and recruited into gangs and cults, with deadly consequences. They become dangers to themselves, to the urban centers, and to the nation. Obviously, how we uncaringly treat rural communities have reverberating consequences for the entire nation.

By Segun Gbadegesin

On Saturday March 6, I missed the zoom webinar organized by the Obafemi Awolowo Foundation in celebration of the sage’s 112th Birthday. Missing the event was unavoidable because my second dose of the Moderna vaccine had been scheduled for the exact time that the lecture event was to begin. Driving time and the onslaught of the second dose painful side effects, of which I had ample warning, just knocked me off for the next 36 hours. But thank God, it’s over and I can exhale now.

Media reports of the event, including the lecture and the invited contributions, are heart-warming and reassuring. The wise spoke in unison and we are grateful beneficiaries of their wisdom. We will always be blessed with the wisdom of elders.

More reflections on Awo, the unforgettable, led me to my topic for today, the gulf between the ideal and the reality in politics, and how this seemingly unbridgeable gap is dispiriting and discouraging, and, unfortunately, undermining trust in politics and politicians.

Ideally, the purpose of politics, its raison d’etre, is the common good. It is this sense of politics that Awolowo has in mind in The People’s Republic when he traces the origin of the state to the family and attempts its justification by appeal to the family bond. With reference to Africa, “it is the paterfamilias, sometimes advised and assisted by the materfamilias and other adult members of the family…..having regard to the common interests of the family, lays down the rules by which the conduct of the members of the family will be governed, adjudicates all disputes among them, and punishes the offender”.

Awolowo goes on to observe that the family unit takes care of the education, health, and welfare needs of its members. And when it recognizes the need to go into a compact of association with neighboring families, each family unit reiterates the importance of these social obligations which the larger unit must take over for every family. To survive, the new aggregation of families “must see to it that, in all they do, they reflect the wishes and promote the interests of each and all the members of the aggregating families.”

The above sums up an understanding of politics in its ideal sense. It was this ideal that Awolowo brought into politics as Leader of Government Business and Premier. Reflecting the wishes of the people and promoting the interests of each and all the members of the aggregating families is the purpose of ideal politics. It was why he and his team focused on “freedom from ignorance, freedom from disease, and freedom from want” as the party’s mission.

Translated into actionable agenda, they knew that it was in the interest of every family or aggregation of families to have their children educated. So they provided free universal primary education. They knew that each family or aggregation of families would benefit from good health. So they introduced free medical treatment for children up to 18. They built General Hospitals in every divisional headquarter. For freedom from want, they empowered farmers and introduced farm settlements for young adults. They were not awash in funds and they had the hostility of the colonial administration to deal with. But they persisted.

Now, notice that neither the leader nor members of his team monopolized resources. None of them cornered facilities or institutions to their neck of the wood. Resources were distributed per local governments and divisions. They made adequate plans for the products of free primary education with feeder schools, including Modern Schools and Technical Colleges around the region. Farm settlements were located across the region at, among other places, Fashola near Oyo, Ilora, Eruwa, Igbogila, and farm institutes  at Odeda, near Abeokuta, and Ikorodu, etc.

The ideal that the Awolowo team embraced was the promotion of the welfare of the people without discrimination and without partiality. They were not greedy. Many legislators served on part-time basis. Nepotism was anathema. That was why none of his children directly benefitted from his position as leader or premier. They were trained to be independent professionals.

Surely, idealism is important especially if the masses are to trust politicians and governments. To mobilize them, you have to earn their trust. And if you are the deceitful type, you can deceive for so many times but they will eventually get you. In and out of power, Awolowo earned the trust of the people.

But an idealist in politics, including our own, is, by and large, a rarity because the cost is steep and the reward may be low if at all existent. Or so many think.

What they mean is this. If you told the people the truth about your program that it will impact them negatively, you will not gain followers. So you must lie. And you are lectured to about the wisdom of grabbing resource and facilities to yourself or your kin, especially because you are not sure how long it will last. And after all, even when a mad man is handed a hoe, he will only move the cleared weeds to himself. Therefore, if you are in power, why won’t you keep it to your side or zone for as long as you can? Why bother about sharing it with others. Only fools rotate power.

This is the philosophy of realism. Politics is the acquisition and use of power to allocate scarce resources. If you acquire it, you must use it for your best interests. And you must keep it for as long as possible. You must not allow moral considerations to neutralize your use of power. If you are able to deceive the people and still get their support, good for you. It is Machiavellian at its best. And we have many Machiavellians now in positions of authority at various levels of our polity.

They were also there in Awolowo’s era. But he resisted the temptation of realist politics. The Western Region benefited from his early decision to stay in the region even when he had the option to serve in the Federal Council of Ministers as the leader of the party. But as he and his colleagues agreed, “as the moving spirit behind all (their) plans, (he) must be on the spot to take charge and direct the operations.” That decision ensured that the Western Region would be the pace setter in all development indices in the nation.

Awolowo left the Western Region in 1959, with the hope of replicating the feat of visionary administration at the center. It was not to be and he settled for the leadership of the opposition. Four years later, the politics of greed and intolerance in the post-colonial state took its toll. He was incarcerated, and so was the march of Nigeria to greatness.

Many, including yours truly, have toyed with the usual “what if?” question. What if Awolowo didn’t go to the center? Won’t the Western Region have matched the greatness of a South Korea or Indonesia? Lately, I have answered that question for myself. Even if he remained in the West, the forces that were after him would not have been satisfied with the march of progress in the region.

I have always argued that the fall of the First Republic was not primarily due the structure, though this contributed in no small measure. Rather, it was mostly due to the poverty of human nature. Within the Western Region itself, there were those who saw the center as the locus of power and resources and they felt that the West was being shortchanged by Awolowo’s idealist politics and ideology of democratic socialism which grounded free education and other social policies of welfare liberalism.

At the center, on the other hand, there were those who resented Awolowo’s intellectualism and tenacity of purpose, including his courageous advocacy of the creation of more regions for a balanced and true federation. These forces at the center soon found willing collaborators in the region. Even if Awolowo had remained as Premier of the Western Region, these willing collaborators would still have found a way of sabotaging him and stopping the march of the West.

By Segun Gbadegesin

Chief Obafemi Awolowo left office as Premier of the old Western Region in 1959. That was 62 years ago. This means that many Nigerians less than 60 years old never witnessed his action in office. He died 34 years ago in 1987. Therefore, Nigerians below 30 years of age never knew him in person. Yet to many of these Nigerians, Awolowo is an unforgettable founding father.

We are at a crossroad in the journey of this federal republic. Tension has not been this high since the days leading to the civil war and it is by no means abating. Chief Awolowo was integrally involved in the shaping of the foundation of the nation before and after independence, including at the most precarious period of civil war, as a nationalist, premier, leader of opposition, member of war-time cabinet, and presidential candidate.

As Leader of Government Business/Premier, Awolowo served for only eight years. What makes a public servant who served for such a short time, not as Prime Minister or Governor-General, but only as the Premier of one of three (later four regions), so unforgettable decades after his passing? The importance of raising this question and addressing our minds to it cannot be overstated.

We may approach our question from several angles. But our answers will revolve around two interrelated themes: strength of character and policy choices and achievements. These are interrelated in an obvious sense. The strength or quality of your character determines the quality of your policy choices and the tenacity you bring to the pursuit of their realization in the political arena where you are most certainly going to encounter persistent opposition.

Both of these–strength of character and policy choices and achievements–ultimately determine the impact a political leader would have on the lives of citizens. Awolowo is unforgettable because of the impact that he has on his constituents and, by extension, many across the nation.

In A Psalm of Life, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow famously intoned: Lives of great men all remind us/ We can make our lives sublime/And, departing, leave behind us/Footprints on the sand of time. Reviewing the footprints that Awolowo left is not an exercise in hagiography. Its import is for us, especially political leaders and those aspiring to positions of leadership, to learn the art of the trade, advert their minds to greatness, and work towards its achievement.

Under the rubric of strength of character, I group intellectual endowment, Spartan self-discipline and moral probity, foresight, and forthrightness. It is important to understand that Awolowo got himself prepared well for leadership right from the onset of life. As a youngster he read voraciously and imbibed important lessons that he took to heart.

One such was from a book titled “It’s Up To You”, which dramatizes the author’s philosophy of life with a jar of various sizes of beans, small and large. Place the large beans at the bottom and the small ones on top. Shake the jar and you will discover that the small beans have been sorted to the bottom while the large ones move to the top. The moral is that where you find yourself in the scale of life depends on your size and weight. “Nobody can fool the jar of life.”

What Awolowo got from this analogy is that whoever wants to get to the top and remain there “must increase his (her) size and weight in his (her) particular calling–that is, mentally, professionally, morally, and spiritually.”  As is always the case, “by means of favoritism and nepotism” some may game the system and get to the top without personal effort to increase their size and weight. But they will not last there. And if they do, they will have negative or no impact, and will not be remembered or be remembered for ill.

Awo prepared himself mentally and made continuous lifetime efforts to increase his size mentally. And to underscore his appreciation of mental acuity, he formulated a theory of mental magnitude. In the context of colonial and post-colonial multinational politics in general, and the African context in particular, it’s hard to identify a politician with Awolowo’s intellectual endowment and original contribution to political theory and practice. His many books, addresses and lectures continue to be relevant to the political and economic struggles of the post-colonial state.

Personal mental preparation combined with intellectual and professional training produced a critically analytic mind focused on the analysis of the constitutional and structural options of a multiethnic society with eyes on stability and development. By dint of hard work, starting from the bottom of the jar, increasing his size and weight on the intellectual plane, Awolowo became the colossus of constitution-making.

We remember him for his insistence on the federal structure that we started out with at independence, for his standing firm while others waiver, until they eventually bought his position because they were convinced of the soundness of his arguments. But with decades of military abuse that stressed the structure and years of civilian inaction to restore the original structure, it is inevitable that the original architect of that structure remains close to our heart and mind.

With a self-discipline regimen that approaches the Puritan’s, Awolowo prepared himself as a moral exemplar worth his weight in platinum. He disciplined his tongue so that he was never involved in regrettable verbal diarrhea. He disciplined his pen so that he never engaged in frivolous intervention in simplistic or mundane issues, and whenever he wrote, it was with the Wisdom of Solomon.

He cultivated the habit of setting the terms of the debate, making his views known on important national matters, almost always leaving others the unenviable task of struggling for response. Recall how the then Chairman of the National Party of Nigeria had to board an airplane to the United Kingdom just to respond to Awolowo’s statement on the impending economic disaster. And while the Chairman denied everything in Awolowo’s statement and described him as an alarmist, it took less than six months before Awolowo’s prediction of economic recession came true. How could we forget a man with such a clarity of mind and weight of words!

Forthrightness is an essential quality of character for anyone, especially politicians, because it is the basis of trust which is sorely needed in the political arena. Awolowo was never shy about his goals, objectives, and strategies for accomplishing them. He spoke truth to power even when he was aware of the negative consequences for his campaign.

He famously insisted on the need and practicality of free education at all levels, forcing his opponents to counter with a nebulous idea of qualitative education. And his prediction of what we should expect of our youths if we refused to give them good and functional education is happening before our eyes. It’s impossible not to remember a man who saw the future.

Awolowo increased his size and weight mentally, professionally, morally and spiritually. Yet, we won’t talk about him today if he also didn’t match his talk with his walk, if he didn’t match his words with his actions, and if his practice didn’t conform to his theory. With the introduction of universal free primary education in the old Western Region in 1955, he and his team set the region on the path of progress in education.

With the investment in agriculture, including the establishment of farm settlements, including cattle ranches across the region, and the opening up of rural areas, Awolowo and his team prioritized food security for the people. And with the creation of the Western Nigeria Marketing Board, farmers came to appreciate that their prosperity was government’s concern as cocoa farmers were able to send their children to higher institutions.

We once had a true patriot, a political giant, an intellectual colossus, a fearless leader, a clear-minded visionary who worked for the greatness of Nigeria, fought for her unity and progress, and who is unforgettable in the hearts and minds of those for whom he struggled. On the one hundred and twelfth anniversary of his birth, we remember Chief Awolowo and thank him for being who he was.

Happy Birthday, unforgettable Awo!