Category: Femi Macaulay

So much has been expressed about the limitations of the Jonathan presidency and the governing Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) in the context of so-called state capacity, especially concerning the developing April 15 kidnap drama starring the Islamist militia Boko Haram and over 200 abducted students of the Girls Senior Secondary School, Chibok, Borno State. Perhaps the ultimate codification of the perceived ineffectiveness of the administration in bringing back the girls was supplied by a former United States of America presidential hopeful, Senator John McCain, who instructively declared on Cable News Network (CNN), “We shouldn’t have waited for a practically non-existent government to give us the go-ahead before mounting a humanitarian effort to rescue those girls.”

Such disturbing qualification may be on-target, but it apparently misses the point in a significant sense, which is common to all criticisms of the Jonathan government on the basis of alleged deficiency in state capacity, without considering the obverse, which may be defined as anti-state capacity. In other words, it seems not to be sufficiently appreciated that “a practically non-existent government” is being challenged by a practically existent terror machine.  From all indications, such one-dimensional thinking has been counter-productive because it essentially underrates the opponent and encourages a reactive attitude where it would be useful to be proactive.

It is inconceivable that the insurgents carried out perhaps their most daring and defiant operation since 2009 when they declared war on the state without scenario building. Is it possible that, given the sheer scale of their mission, they did not anticipate the worldwide outrage and condemnation that followed? Is it possible that they did not from the beginning of the plot have a defined purpose for the sensational abduction? Is it possible that now, nearly two months since the unpleasant incident, they have lost control of the narrative?

Certain developments last week reinforced the reality of a terror force that has been inadequately credited with insurgency intelligence and insurgency capacity to the detriment of the government and the country. First, in what seemed like an oblique admission of inadequacy, Chief of Defence Staff, Air Marshal Alex Badeh, made revealing comments at the Defence Headquarters, Abuja, during the visit of a civil society group, the Social Welfare Network Initiative (SWNI), in connection with the public campaign for the girls’ freedom. He said, “We are fighting more than Boko Haram. We are no longer fighting Boko Haram but Al-Qaeda in North and West Africa.”  Then he revealed his fears, but recovered quickly enough to give an appearance of capability. According to him, “Al-Qaeda is formidable, but we will defeat them. As for our girls, we will bring them back.”

Another happening hinted at, if not exposed, the government’s incapacity; but it was interestingly dressed as bigheartedness although it had the look of large foolishness. After signals that the administration was unenthusiastic about the militants’ guerillas-for girls swap proposal, President Goodluck Jonathan introduced a twist on Democracy Day, May 29. He told the anxious populace in a symbolic broadcast, “My government, while pursuing security measures, will explore all options, including readiness to accept unconditional renunciation of violence by insurgents, and to ensure their deradicalisation, rehabilitation and reintegration into the broader society.” In the same breath, he also publicised the planned intensification of counter-terrorism actions, saying, “I have instructed our security forces to launch a full-scale operation to put an end to the impunity of terrorism on our soil. I have also authorised the security forces to use any means necessary under the law to ensure that this is done.”

Jonathan’s amnesty offer to Boko Haram members may just be his own way of deescalating tension in the polity, and shouldn’t be taken seriously. It is easy to imagine the terrorists laughing over the proposal, if not laughing at him. He demonstrated intriguing denialism against the background of the fact that Abubakar Shekau, the militia’s notorious leader, spelt out unambiguous conditions for the release of the caged students.  Shekau said : “All I’m saying is, if you want us to release your girls that we kidnapped, you must release our brethren that are held in Borno, Yobe, Kano, Kaduna, Enugu and Lagos states, as well as Abuja. We know that you have incarcerated our brethren all over this country…We will never release them until our brethren are released.”  Maybe only Jonathan can explain how his amnesty idea could substitute for prisoner exchange.

Perhaps the administration needs to be reminded that it is battling against a murderous group, which has again and again proved to be unpredictable. The inescapable implication is that the government may be running out of time to secure the girls’ freedom, and would need to act expeditiously to prevent the group from having a rethink that might not favour releasing them.

Understandably, Jonathan is most likely anxious to avoid being perceived as  vulnerable to bullying tactics, particularly considering the fact that  he has often been criticised by the country’s political opposition for alleged weak leadership. However, this is a wrong occasion for him to attempt to change that perception, which may indeed be valid.  This is not the time for bluffing. Jonathan’s announced instruction to the armed forces to escalate the conflict sounds pretentious in the context of international assistance regarding the country’s anti-terror effort.

Moreover, given that the concept and practice of prisoner exchange or prisoner swap are not strange, yielding to the idea may not be a bad idea after all. Of relevance to the country’s situation is the model of Humanitarian Exchange or Humanitarian Accord popularised by the experience of Colombia in which the government reached an agreement with guerillas to swap prisoners for hostages, an idea that was pushed by the families of the captives.  It is easy to imagine that in the Chibok case the affected families, if not the empathetic public, would readily endorse such arrangement.

It is a wonder that the administration keeps sending confusing signs about its intention. Jonathan attempted to project empathy when he said last week, “I share the deep pain and anxiety of their parents and guardians and I assure them once again that government will continue to do everything possible to bring our daughters home.” It is unclear what he meant by “everything possible”, but it would appear that possibility is defined outside the framework of humanitarian exchange, which is sad indeed.

If there are no complicating factors, or even despite the possibility that there could be, the campaign to have Akinwunmi Ambode succeed two-term Lagos State Governor Babatunde Fashola in 2015 may well and truly be on a successful course, which is the inescapable implication of his endorsement by Oba Rilwan Akiolu, the preeminent Lagos monarch who may be considered a reliable source of information on the thinking in the charmed circle of political kingmakers in the state. At 70, and having been on the throne as King of Lagos since 2003, Oba Akiolu could not have been speaking flippantly when he declared, “The elders of Lagos have said that Ambode will be governor.” His May 15 utterance at a book launch at the Civic Centre, Victoria Island, Lagos, undoubtedly provided food for thought in  the political sphere in particular and served as a pointer to the fact that the power struggle for the high office had begun in earnest in the All Progressives Congress (APC), even if informally.

Beyond the surface, the book presentation had the quality of a finely planned public relations stunt to sell Ambode’s governorship aspiration, if not his canonisation. Two books, Public Sector Accounting by Ambode who will be 51 next month, and his biography, The Art of Selfless Service by Marina Osoba, were the ostensible reason for the gathering of dignitaries, but Oba Akiolu left no one in doubt about the more significant purpose of the occasion. He said: “It is true that we are launching a book, but we know why we are here. Some aspirants have sent delegations to me…You will still meet in your party and take a decision on who will be governor. But in my capacity and in accordance with the wish of God and the elders around, I will make my position clear on this matter.” The king, in a fashion typical of Yoruba elders, resorted to wise sayings to drive his point home. His words:  “When you see someone that is dancing upstairs, you should know that some people are beating the drums downstairs for him.”  He elaborated, saying, “The elders have been meeting…We review things regularly…The elders have said that Ambode should be the next governor of Lagos. Other aspirants have a right to aspire too.”

It is noteworthy that Oba Akiolu was modest enough to suggest that there was a theoretical possibility that his standpoint could be contradicted by party hierarchs and decision makers, especially given the fact that the party primary would be the ultimate deciding factor. However, the reality is that he was probably being diplomatic, for he said in the same breath, “Those of you who are annoyed, you should be patient. He is a Lagosian and he will be governor.”

Evidently, not everyone shares Oba Akiolu’s conviction, and this actuality was demonstrated by the subsequent appearance of an organisation, the Lagos Development Advocacy Group (LDAG), which not only opposed Oba Akiolu’s position but also proposed a different individual for the position of governor. According to the group, “As we all have observed in recent times, pundits, commentators and even faithful party members have engaged in several analysis and debates on what should qualify any true breed Lagosian for the exalted seat of Lagos State Governor. Some of the issues that kept coming up are senatorial zoning, religious affiliation and many other sectarian and primordial considerations deliberately orchestrated in favour of some individuals eyeing the seat.”  Then it delivered a punch, saying, “After rigorous, conscientious search and consideration amongst the prospective candidates and other public officers, we found Mr. Babatunde Williams Fowler, BWF, as the most qualified in this regard and hereby make a clarion call for him to join the race for the exalted position on the platform of All Progressives Congress, APC, which he belongs to.”

It is ludicrous, to say the least, that the group tried to make a case for an apparently unprepared individual, for that is the connotation of asking Fowler to enter the ring when he has not himself  overtly indicated interest in the position. Or is this his way of declaring his aspiration, meaning that the group could be fronting for him, contrary to the argument that it is calling on him to participate in politicking?   Interestingly, from the look of things, no one is prompting Ambode, in contradistinction to Fowler; rather, he is being promoted, with the important implication that he is already in the race and, therefore, conscious of the demands of such political ambition.

It is instructive that Ambode himself reinforced his preparedness, saying, “When you work under the guidance of these two people, there is no room for failure. The letter of commendation by Fashola is my gold medal for public service.” He was, of course, referring to Asiwaju Bola Tinubu, a former governor of the state and acclaimed architect of the continuing transformation of the megacity, and the incumbent helmsman, Fashola,

Although Oba Akiolu did not elaborate on the perceived qualities that qualified Ambode for governorship in the eyes of “the elders” he referred to, available details about the aspirant’s public service record are impressive and compel attention. Significantly, he was Accountant- General of Lagos State between 2006 and 2012 when he retired voluntarily to pursue other dreams after spending 27 years in the state’s civil service, including a stint as Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Finance, and as Auditor-General for Local Government. This background is striking on account of the fact that it highlights Ambode as probably the most experienced individual in terms of familiarity with the state civil service operations to seek the position of governor since Lagos State was created in 1967.

It is notable that, in reaction to Ambode’s ascendancy, some observers have pointed out that Oba Akiolu’s support may not be the same thing as having the backing of the party supremos. However, it is understandable that the powers that be in the party have not been openly declarative, even if they might also have endorsed Ambode by deduction from the king’s declaration. It is part of the beauty of democracy to keep every aspirant’s dream alive until the axe falls on it, which is a probable reason for seeming public neutrality by the kingmakers. Even though it is a possibility, it is unlikely that they are still undecided, given Oba Akiolu’s confident prophecy, which he is perfectly entitled to. “But all things are in the hands of God Almighty”, the king concluded on a philosophical note, with the clear suggestion that left to man the issue was settled.

Even in the context of constant flux and the implication that everything is perpetually evolving, the latest contribution by Lucky Igbinedion, a former governor of Edo State, to the business of image laundering, or more precisely, reputation laundering, stretches imaginative elasticity to yield point.  Ahead of his 57th birthday on May 13, he reportedly declared in an interview with journalists in Abuja, “In the darkest of days when the state was broke and could not pay salaries, I would run to these two people and they would borrow me money. They borrowed the state money.”  The lenders in question,  excuse Igbinedion’s illiterate usage, were his father and Esama of Benin Kingdom, Chief Gabriel Igbinedion, and the Chairman, Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) Board of Trustees, Chief Anthony Anenih. In case anyone needed corroboration, Igbinedion said, “Chief Anenih is around the corner here, you can go and ask him whether I borrowed money from him or not.” What about his dad? Shouldn’t he also be asked whether he actually lent money to Edo State through his son?

His claims prompt disturbing dimensions, including reflections on the riches of the named individuals, their motives, their possible gains from such deals, especially in economic terms as well as in relation to manipulative influence in the corridors of power.  It stands to reason that Igbinedion may have unwittingly provided insights into the phenomenon of “political godfatherism”, long identified as a major drawback of the country’s politics, with negatively weighty implications for socio-economic development.

From a more formal perspective, Igbinedion’s revelations, if they are to be believed, hint at illegalities, particularly on account of the implied non-official nature of the process, which is why they have the character of disclosure.  Apparently, the stated deals were known only to a closed ring of collaborators, outside the view of lawful institutional structures that should otherwise be aware of, if not endorse such course of action.

From the look of things, Igbinedion manifested not only social anxiety, but perhaps also a sense of guilt. Seven years after he left office following two four-year terms from 1999 to 2007, he seems to have suddenly awakened to the fact that his track record may need clarification, especially in the light of superlatively superior governmental performance by Adams Oshiomhole, who has governed the state from 2008 and was elected to a second term in 2012. Indeed, Igbinedion’s power years pale into insignificance, except as a model of ineptitude, when compared with Oshiomhole’s tenure, which is widely acclaimed as demonstrative of good governance and an example of competent administration. Moreover, against this background, it is possible that Igbinedion may have a guilty conscience for frittering away his time in power, which is generally perceived as an era of wastefulness and wasted opportunities. Sadly, he cannot turn back the hands of the clock, but the evidence that it may be on his conscience is, at least, something positive about him, even if inconsequential.

Igbinedion’s defensiveness mirrored a subconscious burden conveyed by his words. “For you to loot,” he declared, “there must be something. Edo State had no money to loot.” This latter-day logic is contradicted by the fact that in January 2008 he was declared wanted by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) concerning 142 counts of financial fraud. Specifically, he was alleged to have embezzled $24 million (12 million pounds) using front companies, and he gave himself up in the same month.

Furthermore, in December 2008 he was convicted by the Federal High Court, Enugu, on corruption-related charges.  He was actually fined N3.5million after pleading guilty to a one-count charge of neglecting to make a declaration of his interest in Account No. 4124013983110 in a new generation bank in his declaration of assets form.

Astoundingly, Igbinedion said, “If anything, it is the state that owes me money and not me owing them.”  If the borrowing and lending were open only to him and collaborators, as the picture he painted suggests, it is intriguing that he has an obviously misplaced sense of the state government’s financial indebtedness to him. It is unclear whether he implied that he also lent money to the state, which he did not recover before his exit, a suggestion that is perhaps intended to incorrectly portray him as having a social conscience. He should have been sincere enough, if the quality is not beyond him, to detail the inflow of funds allegedly borrowed from clandestine sources as well as the outflow of payments to the same for public information.

This character took hyperbole to new heights with his claim that somewhere along the line he got tired of the office of governor and desired to quit before the end of his tenure, which would have been unprecedented in the country’s political history and earned him a place in the pantheon of frustrated patriots, if he could be dignified by such description.  According to his tale, “Between you and I, if not for family pressure, I contemplated resigning, especially during my second tenure. I just asked myself why I was going through all these troubles.”   Igbinedion must have scant regard for public intelligence, if he actually believes that the people can be fooled by such sob story.

Then he somersaulted, uttering words that expressed absolute nonsense. “First and foremost,” he began, “you do not have the money to do some of the projects you want to do even though there was no way I would have completed the projects with the whole money in the whole world.”  Tragically, this declaration unveiled his unpreparedness for helmsmanship as well as fundamental visionlessness.  Without intending to do so, he also betrayed the fact that he ran a government of uncompleted projects, meaning that he left a legacy, if it could be so called, of inchoateness, which amounts to nothing.

He was delusional, a condition he is entitled to in his private space, but which is unacceptable in the public sphere and especially when it is about the serious business of governance.  He chose to grade himself, an exercise that is prone to selective perception at best, and total misperception at worst. In Igbinedion’s case, he couldn’t have been more off-track. His self-assessment: “In terms of performance, I am glad history is beginning to reveal itself. I performed credibly well. The perception and expectations are two different things.”   The truth is that most times dirty laundry isn’t a matter of subjectivity and there are times when washing them clean enough could be problematic. This is Igbinedion’s challenge.

Recent revelatory events reinforce the thinking that until Nigeria embraces good governance with religious zeal, or more exactly, as a religion, the country may be going nowhere. A striking pointer was last month’s startling  and puzzling appearance of Chief Femi Fani-Kayode, an ex-Aviation Minister, former partisan of the ruling Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) and lately an enthusiastic voice of the opposition in the All Progressives Congress (APC), at the Presidential Villa, Abuja, where he reportedly met with President Goodluck Jonathan behind closed doors. It provided evidence of a misperceived, questionable and regrettably retrogressive  linkage between faith and political performance. Certainly, this is not to deny that religion can be politically influential; rather, the point is that, except perhaps in an extreme theocratic context, the influence of faith on political players is usually tempered by other, or outside, factors.

Interestingly, after familiar but unconvincing bromides about the Presidential Villa being a place where every Nigerian who is welcome can always visit, Fani-Kayode spoke about “the wonderful people here”, a flattering reference that was food for thought, given his known oppositional attitude to the Jonathan administration.  What has changed about the government to prompt the praise, or perhaps to be more precise, what has changed about Fani-Kayode to inspire the new song?

“I won’t go into that,” was his curt reply to reporters who sought information about what he discussed with Jonathan; and when he was asked whether this unexpected meeting was a signal that he was about to exit APC, his answer was pregnant with meaning. He said: “The step I will take will be made known to Nigerians at the right time. The most important thing and I think you are fully aware of this is that I cannot and will not be associated with a situation whereby any group of people is promoting a religion above another.”

It would appear that there was a lot more significance about what he did not say than what he actually said. There was an unmistakable implication that all is not well with his APC-connection.  More importantly, there was also the implied point that religious differences, or differences about perspectives on religion and its political influence, may be why he is rethinking his political affairs. According to him, “I think all of us have gone past the stage of religious politics in this country. We must treat the Muslim community with utmost respect and we must treat the Christian community in the same way, and even the non-religious.”

So who is playing “religious politics” by Fani-Kayode’s definition or standard? It is noteworthy that Jonathan, well before his March visit to Pope Francis, the global head of the Roman Catholic Church, at the Vatican in Rome, which was possibly the ultimate move in a series of churchy activities, faced a barrage of criticism for his overt romance with Christian places of worship in particular and his indecent exploitation of otherwise spiritual space for the strictly secular business of politics.

More concretely, it is logical to situate Fani-Kayode’s fresh exploration of a possible renewal of old political affiliations within the conservative circle. Or could it be better described as an unprincipled pursuit of reunion with his old ideological collaborators? In this connection, it is worth mentioning that his pilgrimage to the Presidential Villa was sequel to his publicised rejection of a speculated APC Muslim/Muslim combination for the 2015 presidential election, which has also been criticised as unrealistic in certain quarters where the accepted wisdom is that a same-faith blend is unworkable and bound to fail in a multi-religious state like Nigeria. Obviously, convenient amnesia is at work here, for such union was a hit in the country’s famous   June 12, 1993, presidential election.

The critical question arising from this stance must be whether such otherwise enlightened critics should be more attentive to so-called “religious politics”, whatever the form or content, rather than the goodness of governance in form and content. Indeed, this consideration is crucial as next year’s general elections draw near. However, it should be admitted that the meat of the matter may not be as clear-cut, and Fani-Kayode’s position as an insider must come with insights that may be obscure to non-participants. Be that as it may, the religious dimension need not be overstretched, particularly to the detriment of reason, by the suggestion that the faith question, or the influence of belief, is of paramount potency in the country’s politics.

To project such unrestrained viewpoint is to insult the concept of good governance, which is neither a function of religiousness nor irreligiosity. As things stand, there is a compelling need to de-religionise the country’s political space, and to relegate religionism and religionists to irrelevance. To put it more accurately, it is time to religionise good governance, which is not to imply the end of spirituality. The idea of secular spirituality, indicative of non-religious worship of eternal virtues and values, should be appealing for its emphasis on solid social-development orientation instead of socially unhelpful misorientation based on religious thinking.

In practical terms, Nigeria’s disgraceful rating as 41st on a 52-country list called the 2013 Ibrahim Index of African Governance (IIAG), a project of the respected Mo Ibrahim Foundation, is gravely instructive. The country not only scored lower than the continental average (51.6), it also ridiculously scored lower than the regional average (52.5) for West Africa. Assessment was based on four key areas: Safety and Rule of Law, Participation and Human Rights, Sustainable Economic Opportunity and Human Development.

It goes without saying that the country desperately needs new paradigms of progressive leadership, particularly in today’s world with its galloping pace of development.  It is a huge shame that the country is still struggling with inexcusable poverty, appalling infrastructure, backward education and primitive health care arrangements, among other inadequacies that make it the butt of jokes in enlightened circles.

The exemplary leaders, focused on excellence in office, which the country desires and deserves, will not emerge as long as religious considerations reign; and it would  amount to undesirable capitulation to visionless mediocrity should  the criteria for high political office be defined in terms of religious balancing rather than an equilibrium of effectiveness.

Demonstrable commitment to good governance and capacity to deliver what the people yearn for should rank among the uppermost qualifications for the type of progressive leadership that would benefit the country at this historical juncture; and religion should belong to the lower rungs as a deciding factor.

From all indications, it may not be out of place for the Jonathan presidency to introduce preemptive emergency rule in the federal capital, Abuja, particularly in the light of the reported declaration of territorial presence by the commander-in-chief of the Islamist militia Boko Haram, Abubakar Shekau. “We are in your city,” the rebel lord was quoted as saying by way of conscious self-indictment, ostensibly addressing President Goodluck Jonathan, following the outrageous April 14 bombing of Nyanya Motor Park in the city which consumed at least 75 lives, with 164 people injured. Similarly offensive was the group’s next-day abduction of over 200 students at the Girls Senior Secondary School, Chibok, Borno State, which represented a defiant statement reinforcing its reality in the state already under one-year-long emergency conditions along with Adamawa and Yobe states in the country’s northeastern region.

Although the Abuja bus terminal blast extended the chain of violently destructive behaviour by the group, it is noteworthy that the attack was perhaps its most devastating in the capital city since 2009 when the insurgency gathered momentum in the northeast. Ironically, Shekau, who claimed responsibility on behalf of the group, reportedly referred to the carnage as “a tiny incident,” suggesting that it was a tip of the iceberg and more monstrous tragedies lay ahead. By serving this foretaste, it is reasonable to expect that the rebels will follow up as Shekau probably implied.

His reappearance was itself ominous, considering the controversy over his supposed end, which now sounds more like a wish than a report of actuality. Even more foreboding was his martial manifestation as he allegedly announced to the world, “We are the ones that carried out the attack in Abuja.” Reports said he was “seated with a Kalashnikov resting on his shoulder and dressed in military uniform,” and “spoke in both Arabic and the Hausa language that is dominant in northern Nigeria.” It is enlightening that he sought to maximise his reemergence by taking advantage of the power and influence of an international medium. According to Agence France-Presse (AFP) which reported his comeback, Shekau made the claim in a 28-minute video it received from the insurgents through familiar sources. The issue of believability was, therefore, out of the question.

For an individual who has been tagged as a terrorist by the United States (US) with the promise of $7m bounty for his capture or assistance in his capture, Shekau’s materialisation after a lengthy lull that generated claims and counter-claims about whether he was still alive or dead can be interpreted not only as an audacious assertion of his existence but also a loud and clear signal of danger.

The thrust of Shekau’s statement, “We are in your city”, cannot be that his group was hitherto unrepresented in Abuja, the seat of federal power with its boisterous actors and actresses in the drama of representative government. Such misinterpretation is highly improbable, particularly given the fact that even Jonathan, perhaps in a rare moment of insight accompanied by paradoxical perplexity, hinted at the possibility that the central administration had been infiltrated by Boko Haram.

More likely, the grave implication and import of his announcement may be that the insurgency is about to relocate to the federal capital, or more precisely, that the militia has reviewed its operational strategy with greater concentration on the city. Either way, it is bad news for Abuja. It is thought-provoking that such positional clarity is coming from the group at this time, with the approach of the decisive 2015 general elections which continues to engender fissiparous contention in the polity.

Against this grim background, Abuja, the playground of the prosperous and powerful, well-known for its paradisiacal features, ought to pay greater attention to fundamental security, and this must not be in an insular manner that discriminates against the underprivileged humanity living in the suburbs.

Indeed, it is catastrophic enough that Boko Haram penetrated the city; but even more tragic is its noticeable defencelessness, which may not be divorced from official corruption. It is scandalous that, according to reports, the $470m (about N76bn) National Public Security Communications System (NPSC) project completed two years ago in Abuja has turned out to be an embarrassing failure. The job, handled by a Chinese company, ZTE Corporation, was designed to provide “voice, video and data using the Code Division Multiple Access technology to enable security agencies to combat terrorism and other violent crimes in the Federal Capital Territory, Lagos and other cities across the nation.”

An investigative media report said, “the security agencies had been unable to deploy the system in checking terrorism, kidnapping and other violent crimes in the country.” It also stated: “Checks showed that the Video Surveillance Cameras Monitor and the Video Conference Terminal at the Force Headquarters, Abuja Main Switch Centre, had been largely dormant due to lack of video feed from installed cameras, most of which are not functional.” In addition, it said, “Further findings showed that many of the installed 1,000 Close Circuit Television (cameras) apart from covering limited areas of the city had never worked while most of them had been vandalised and their parts stolen.” Moreover, according to the report, “It was learnt that the installed cameras covered only areas inhabited by influential Nigerians and districts where important facilities and institutions were located like the Central Business District, Asokoro, Maitama and major roads and junctions in the city.” The clear meaning of this latter finding is that places like Nyanya will always be vulnerable, even if the security system worked, because it was not planned to work in their interest nor in their favour.

Not surprisingly, Jonathan’s Easter message to Nigerians referred to “evil machinations of terrorists, criminals and their collaborators,” boasting that despite the negative activities of such instruments of evil, “our administration remains ardently focused on efforts to successfully execute the Federal Government’s Agenda for National Transformation and achieve sustained development.”

However, the president needs to understand that the terror war will not be won with bromides. He should appreciate that Shekau’s latest statement may make matters worse, considering the government’s dilatory approach to counterinsurgency. Particularly at this time when the subject of a possible further extension of emergency in Adamawa, Borno and Yobe states is burning on the front burner, and school girls are increasingly endangered by terrorism, the administration will profit from an awakening.

For sheer theatricality, the spectacular emergence of Mr. Ayo Fayose and Senator Iyiola Omisore as the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) governorship candidates in the approaching elections in Ekiti and Osun states respectively was evocative of the 1921 “absurdist metatheatrical” play Six Characters in Search of an Author by Italian dramatist and 1934 Nobel laureate in Literature Luigi Pirandello. The core of the drama is the invasion of the stage by six outsiders who demand to enact their own story.

Although in the specific instances of Fayose, 53, and Omisore, 56, it is about an obsessive quest for power, nevertheless their antagonistic entry and seizure of space, with the associated absurdities, must qualify them for positions in the realm of the fantastic. Beyond the surface, at a more profound level is the fact that in Pirandello’s plot the characters interrupted the rehearsal of a play called The Rules of the Game, a dimension that has a serious implication for the political ambitions of both men in an environment with a reputation for scandalous and unconscionable electoral fraud.

Against the background of protest by co-contestants that both men allegedly triumphed at the party primaries through dubious means, the question of fidelity to rules is of instructive significance. With the foundation of alleged impropriety, it may not be out of place to consider whether the gubernatorial contests in the two states will be free from corruption. Will the fundamental principles of “free and fair election” and “one man one vote” be allowed to prevail, given that the very processes leading to the elections were reportedly perverted and subverted?

Speaking of the absurd, Fayose’s contested endorsement at the primary reflected a basic ridiculousness on account of the fact that he is still facing trial for alleged financial misconduct while in office as governor of Ekiti State from May 2003 to October 2006, his four-year tenure having been shortened by impeachment. Not surprisingly, he has understandably and quite correctly taken refuge in the fact that his guilt has not been judicially established, which technically makes him unencumbered. However, even legalism has its limits and limitations, for Fayose , no doubt, labours under an undeniable moral albatross. It is both puzzling and disturbing that he doesn’t seem to appreciate the weakening implication of his situation, and has been busy trumpeting his self-perceived strengths without the sense of sobriety that would have been expected of a power-seeker in his demystified circumstances. He asked, possibly gleefully, in an interview, “Don’t you know that in law, a man is adjudged innocent until proven guilty by a court of competent jurisdiction?”

It is food for thought that he emerged as standard-bearer despite the moral burden on his shoulder, suggesting that his party is unbothered by that factor, if not dismissive of it. He is likely to go into the election with the unresolved issue of his alleged fraudulence, and it would be interesting to observe voter perception and behaviour in such context.

Remarkably, he seems to have unwittingly given the electorate a clue on how to vote, that is, against him. “I am assuring them that the Fayose they were afraid of is a better Fayose,” he said, adding, “He is more mature and more responsive. If you say I’m a bad man, I say I’ve changed. I am appealing to them that I am a changed man.” Of course, change, positive or otherwise, is always a possibility in the dynamic flow of life, but the people would expectedly and rightly need more persuasive proof than mere declaration of transformation, especially when his record is contrasted with the widely acknowledged superior governmental performance of the incumbent governor, Kayode Fayemi of the All Progressives Congress (APC), who is pursuing a deserved second term.

Absurdity was also a central aspect of Omisore’s materialisation; and in his own case the narrative is extremely scarier. A former deputy governor of Osun State from 1999 to 2003 and two-term senator from 2003 to 2007 and 2007 to 2011, he is as well seeking, probably illusorily, the glory of political helmsmanship in a state where the incumbent governor, Rauf Aregbesola of APC, has overwhelming advantage to achieve a second term in office based on popular endorsement. Of course, he is entitled to his ambition, however dreamy, but it is alarming that he allegedly resorted to unbecoming violence in the situation.

Incredibly, his involvement in the intra-party struggle for the ticket reportedly betrayed undesirable qualities that can do the polity no good, and which the people should reject in unambiguous terms. The picture of behind-the-scenes bestiality painted by Isiaka Adeleke, a co-aspirant and ex-governor of Osun State, is damning and disqualifying. According to Adeleke who alleged that he was dangerously manhandled by Omisore and Minister of Police Affairs Jelili Adesiyan, possibly to discourage him, his attackers are “unfit to live in a civilised society.” Should any individual described in such language be encouraged to aspire to leadership?

Adeleke recounted, “When I got to the hotel in Osogbo last week, I met about five people lying face down. The police put guns to their heads claiming that they were thugs. I checked them out and discovered that they were my people. One of them was a former council chairman in Ede North.” He continued, “I told the police that they were not thugs and were my people. They later released them to me and I went inside to ask what was going on, but rather than explain, Adesiyan, Omisore and Sogo Agboola started beating me. At a point, about seven guns were pointed at my head.” He said further, “I am going to press charges against these people. They put off the light in the hotel so that the cameras would not be able to record their atrocities. Thank God we use infrared to aid our recording. This they did not know. They said I had been bought over by the All Progressives Congress but that is a lie.”

These portraits of Fayose and Omisore are useful for an understanding of the major characters that will be challenging the progressive camp in Ekiti on June 21 and in Osun on August 9. Even the otherwise assonantal appeal of their names, which is certainly inadequate for election purposes, loses beauty in the light of their essential unattractiveness as governorship candidates. All things being equal, it should be expected that the sovereign electorate will decide against them.

It is a thought-provoking testimony to mischievously partisan inventiveness that the otherwise appealing political catchphrase popularised by Lagos State Governor Babatunde Fashola has been corrupted in certain quarters. During the 6th Herbert Macaulay Memorial Lecture and Merit Award held on March 22 at the Nigerian Institute of International Affairs (NIIA) , Lagos, now and again the voice of spoilers could be heard subverting Fashola’s slogan, Eko o ni baje, meaning, Lagos will not go to ruin, which is a declaration of intention to sustain excellence.

Oddly enough, at the event organised by the Association of Lagos State Indigenes (ALSI) and focused on the theme, “The Place of Lagos State Indigenes – Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow”, the undisguised refrain all around was a parody of Fashola’s saying. The re-invented phrase became, Eko o ni baje ju bayi lo, meaning, Lagos will not be messed up beyond this point. It was both a statement of dissatisfaction and a call for change, presumably for the better, suggesting strongly that the association had succumbed to divisive politics.

Paradoxically, Prof. John Obafunwa, the guest speaker and Vice-Chancellor, Lagos State University (LASU), in the course of the difficult clarification of the identity and identification of the Lagos State indigene, or Lagosian, listed Fashola among 12 exemplary indigenes that, he argued, represented the essence of Lagos. Although he described the “list of indigenes” as “not exhaustive”, he left no one in doubt about his high rating of these individuals. Fashola’s inclusion apparently belied the groupthink, and must have caused quite a few heartaches in the hall.

But the truth is that if gubernatorial grading is informed by fair-minded measurement of results, devoid of the narrow-mindedness that comes with oppositionist ideology, Fashola cannot by any stretch of the imagination be qualified as a failure. Therefore, it is reasonable to conclude that the new sloganeers surely miss the point, which is understandable because they are actually not looking for any point, but are rather engaged in a pointless exercise.

It was perhaps timely that Fashola’s performance in governance came under focus barely two weeks after the ALSI event as the governor celebrated his administration’s 2,500 days in office at the Blue Roof, Lagos State Television in Agindigbi, Ikeja. His words at the ceremony were revelatory as well as enlightening, particularly in the context of the undercurrent of denigration. Fashola said: “This morning, on my way to this event, I observed at Ilubirin Housing Estate that somebody has put a sign there that the Federal Republic of Nigeria owns the land. That land has been there for five years. The contract for reclaiming it was issued by Lagos to Julius Berger during my predecessor’s tenure.” He went on, “About a month ago, we awarded the contract for the construction of 1,188 flats there, but suddenly, the Federal Government is claiming ownership of the land. I was told Obanikoro was there on Saturday with soldiers.”

He added that soldiers acting on the orders of agents of the central administration also hindered work on the state government’s housing project at Oyingbo, where it plans to build 48 flats under the Lagos HOMS initiative. According to him, “The contractor at Oyingbo has stopped work because some Federal Government agents moved soldiers there, claiming that they own the land. That land is the land next to Mainland Hotel. It is good that Brigadier Mobolaji Johnson is here because it is part of the land he acquired during his tenure when Alhaji Femi Okunnu was the Federal Commissioner for Works. Documents handed over to the state government indicate that the land belongs to Lagos State.”

The mention of Musiliu Obanikoro, Minister of State for Defence, is fascinating, for he was the same official who gave a keynote address as the special guest of honour at the ALSI forum, where he bemoaned alleged “marginalisation of Lagos indigenes”, and suggested “state empowerment schemes for indigenous Lagosians”, among other amelioratory proposals. It is ironic that his name came up as an alleged supporter, if not promoter, of land grabbing tendencies that are unquestionably against the interest of Lagos and Lagosians, which he would want to be perceived as protecting. It is predictable that Lagos residents in particular would be scandalised by his reported involvement in the unprogressive use of bullying tactics by the federal government, given the fact that by arresting the state government’s laudable housing projects, Obanikoro and his ilk have demonstrated condemnable insensitivity to a consequential area of social development. This news represents a clear contradiction because Obanikoro, on the ALSI platform, sermonised about “oneness despite our political differences”.

Indeed, it is noteworthy that the recent launch of the Lagos Home Ownership Mortgage Scheme (HOMS) illustrates how well the Fashola administration understands the place of decent shelter in the hierarchy of needs. More importantly, it is commendable that the first set of 11 allottees received keys to their homes at a ceremony that was not only expressively emotional but also encouraging and promising for many who desire homes of their own. These 11 who had met mortgage requirements were among 31 successful applicants for the 200 homes available at the first draw. Publicised estates under the programme are Chois Gardens, Abijo- Lekki; Oba Lateef Adams Estate, Ilora-Agege; Igbogbo Phase II A Ikorodu Scheme; Micheal Otedola Estate, Odoragunshin- Epe; Alhaja Adetoun Mustapha Scheme, Ojokoro; Hon. Olaitan Mustapha Scheme, Ojokoro; Shitta Estate, Surulere and Hon Sotonwa Estate, Igbogbo.

Perhaps a significant aspect of the beauty of this programme is the fact that the home owners are supposed to emerge from public draws. The testimony of Mr. Amos Omodunni, one of those who had paid 30 per cent of the cost of their homes and got keys on March 31, was eloquently promotional. According to this proud new owner of a three-bedroom flat, “I and the other allottees are advocates of the transparency and fairness that we know is the bedrock of this particular scheme. We sing it high and loud everywhere we go, to our friends, neighbours and colleagues. Go and apply, it is real. You do not need to know anybody; just send in your application and you can become a home owner.”

Regrettably, actions like the unlawful occupation of Lagos State land by federal government agents could prove detrimental to the people-friendly scheme. If the move was possibly intended to disrupt the housing programme, and thereby dent the image of the Fashola administration, it betrayed the vacuity and reckless desperation of the opposition. As in the various other sectors where the state government has undeniably pursued “the greatest happiness of the greatest number”, Fashola doesn’t appear to be messing things up.