The Nation Newspaper

Category: Monday

  • Comrade and his women

    Comrade and his women


    [dropcap]W[/dropcap]e arrived Abeokuta in the first ink of dusk, at about 5:00pm. We were visiting the city’s most iconic figure, the white-haired, white-bearded, tall, grand fellow of many battles and accolades.

    Before we made the turn to the bush, a sign was unmistakable. Louis Odion, the writer in resting, who sat beside me in the car, read the sign. Roared Louis in a guttural register: “Any trespasser will be shot and eaten.”

    The imprimatur of the poet. All around were trees. We drove on, and a sense of rural splendour fell over me. The serenity of trees. Birds. Leaves in lush colour. Earth Edenic. Modernity alienated. A shadow cast not by twilight but by the peculiar colouring of a forest. It was as though I was on my way to my mother’s home village in Delta State.

    In a few moments, we saw what looked like a clearing. Looking farther, a big house, unpainted but tasteful, with a grandeur one would describe as quaint. Nothing ornate. Not the windows, not the stairwell. It was a house sitting in arboreal paradise.

    The vehicles parked, and in a few moments, the guest of honour, the sprightly Governor of Edo State, Adams Oshiomhole  and his elegant wife, Lara, materialised from a vehicle. We moved in and waiting was chief host, playwright, poet, writer extraordinaire Wole Soyinka. It was billed as a lunch but the vagaries of technology associated with his flight arrangement turned it into a dinner. Former governors, Babatunde Raji Fashola and Rotimi Amaechi, had visited earlier in the day.

    As we sat, I delved into wordplay and described the setting as “Adamic.” The Edo Governor appreciated it and turned to his wife and they exchanged a joke about the Garden of Eden, and the wife quipped that if the Governor was the Adam, then she would be the Eve. At that moment I started to contemplate Adams, just as W.S. served wine and later asked us to the dinner table with his wife Folake.

    I thought here was Adams, and the story of the man in the past few months revolved around women. The first was his wedding. He, a Nigerian, above 60, and the bride young and from Cape Verde. The news generated quite an attention.

    Those who attacked, especially young men, were probably envious it was not them. Those women who condemned the bride, mostly girls, were also envious she was not them. I wonder what W.S. thought about the couple during the bonhomie of conversation over wine and food.

    He, too, wedded Folake, but to less flurry of envious rage, maybe because we did not have Internet or Facebook then. But essentially he was a prophet of his own nuptials with his play, The Lion and the Jewel. I told myself, we had two lions and two jewels at the table.

    Nothing about this irony propped up in the conversation, and so I reined in my mischief. I took my time to watch, speak with and listen to a man I had admired all my life. That was enough peace for me eating his jolof rice, fried plantain and fish with the lubricating grace of red wine.

    But what I also thought of were Oshiomhole’s other women. The one was former so-called coordinating minister of the economy, Okonjo-Iweala and, of course, the big-eyed oil minister Diezani Alison-Madueke. When the Edo Governor started lashing out at the other women, attention swiftly turned from his beauty parlour to the beasts of the economy.

    Adams had noted how the so-called World Bank, Harvard and all the phony accolades of western brilliance of the finance minister gave us nothing but poverty. Ngozi was a failure. She was a disaster. When the Edo governor reeled out her financial iniquities, I felt especially vindicated.

    Very early I was not moved by her resume. She was not trained for the Nigerian economy, just like her bow-tie colleague now roosting like hens in another African agricultural employment. She was trained about the dependency of African economies.

    I know because I attended quite a few of them and I inoculated myself against their paradigms. She did not and that explains why she met a buoyant purse and left a leaky one.

    Then he visited the United States with President Muhammadu Buhari, and when he returned he unleashed a bombshell. One minister stole as much as six billion dollars from our purse.

    How much is that in naira? In my own calculation, it is at least N1.2 trillion. That money will pay all the salaries owed the state workers, build quite a respectable cancer centre in the country. He would not say who the minister is out of decency. But we cannot but know that the finger pointed at the oil minister. She was the only one who could have had that kind of access.

    The American officials cannot say such a grave thing without evidence. Diezani was the worst of the Jonathan era. She was a disgrace of a minister just as Jonathan was a scandal of a president.

    We raked in the most money in that era, we are broke today because of them. Adams had to come out with the facts because he, too, was outraged. It was Adams the activist, the fulminating labour leader that squared off against Iweala and Madueke.

    Was it not in the same era we had other women, like Mama Peace, and Stella Oduah. Mama peace, the first lady, with whom many Nigerians lost patience, spoke as though the nation was a Mammy Market and all Nigerians were subaltern, backwater denizens without culture.

    The evening eventually came to an end after close to four hours of exchange of jokes, ideas, etc. I could not but also note the sheer number of carved masterpieces in W.S. home. I called back his recollections of his search for an African artifact to as far away as Brazil. He wonderfully delineated the adventure in his memoirs, You Must Set Forth At Dawn.

    We left into the bush again, and then back into the urban jungle. But it was a gradual descent into modernity. We saw buildings here and there  interspersed with bushes until it was bricks and tars and cars.

  • Obituary of confusion

    It looked like denialism, culturally endorsed and encouraged.  Media reports that said Oba Okunade Sijuade, the Ooni of Ife since 1980 and a pre-eminent Yoruba monarch, was dead sounded like nonsense to the community’s circle of chiefs. High Chief Joseph Ijadola, the Lowa of Ife, presented the sense of the palace: “We were all shocked when we heard the rumour. If at all such an incident had happened, the traditional council would be the first to know and to break the news to the entire public. Sixteen of us are his chiefs and when he was travelling out, he didn’t look like he was going to die and should that have happened to him, we would have been informed even before anyone would hear about it.” It is noteworthy that Ijadola didn’t say that kings never die, or that Oba Sijuade could not die.

    With the question of the king’s mortality settled, Oba Sijuade cannot be dead and alive at the same time. It is interesting that Yoruba cultural thinking accommodates the conceptual possibility of life after death just as it accepts the reality of death after life. In other words: If he is not dead, he will die; and if he is dead, he will not die.  The essence of this belief is that there is an enduring partnership between life and death. In this context, the eternal lesson of the drama of colliding and conflicting claims about Oba Sijuade’s existence and exit is the marriage of mortality and immortality.

    In the global village of the communication age, news travels fast and far. This reality poses a powerful challenge to the conservative information management that is culturally prescribed in the event of a Yoruba king’s death. There are complications because Oba Sijuade reportedly died in a foreign land, on July 28 at Saint Mary’s Hospital, Paddington, London. If the reported death had happened in the Oba’s domain, it would have been perfect for the enforcement of traditional secrecy. The London dimension instantaneously  internationalised the news, and it is unsurprising that traditionalists are wrestling with modernity and modernised media.

    In addition, in an increasingly open world, the space of mystification is shrinking, which is a potent challenge to the romantic mystique associated with certain ancient cultural practices. To allow a reign of silence for a specific period before announcing a king’s death, as reportedly dictated by Yoruba tradition, is out of sync with the information philosophy of the 21st century, which is speed-oriented.

    The beginning of a seven-day Oro festival believed to be related to the reported death deepened the drama, though traditionalists observed that important and clearly defined rituals expected to publicise the death of an Ooni have not been performed, meaning that Oba Sijuade may not be dead as reported.

    Interestingly, the source of confusion is not Oba Sijuade’s first obituary. According to the Secretary, Royal Traditional Council of Ife, the Ladin of Ife, High Chief Adetoye Odewole, ”They did it in 1984, also in 2004 and now, these people are coming up with another rumour. Oba Sijuade remains in sound state of health.”

    Critical obituarists focused on Oba Sijuade’s alleged unprogressive tendencies in the country’s political sphere without considering the difficulties of a monarchy in a democracy. Oba Sijuade’s cultural radiance and relevance, distinct from his alleged political incorrectness, cannot be disregarded.

    An illustrative narrative:  It was July 2013. The 10th Orisa World Congress was holding at the Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU) in Ile-Ife, Osun State. Ile-Ife, regarded as “The Source” and a culturally significant Yoruba town, was an appropriate setting for discussions on the challenges of the Orisa way of life, especially in the context of a diverse globe, and contending faiths, some of which have the advantage of apparent numerical dominance. The variegated gathering, which included participants from the United States of America (USA), Brazil, Cuba, Venezuela and Mexico, demonstrated the appeal of the Yoruba religion beyond its local provenance, and brought instructive international perspectives. An all-male family of four from Cuba, a Chinese couple who lived in Venezuela and a densely bearded white American were among the alluring sights.

    It is worth noting that in 2005 the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) added the Ifa Divination system to its list of the “Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.” A multitude of gods or orisa makes up the Yoruba pantheon, with Ifa as the oracular mouthpiece of Olodumare, the Almighty in Yoruba religion.

    Oba Sijuade, the community’s revered traditional ruler and the Grand Patron of the Orisa tradition and religion, took advantage of the forum to name July and August as “Yoruba cultural months” starting from 2014.  ”I implore all descendants of Oduduwa to return home every year during these months to celebrate our culture and religion,” he said, at the opening ceremony at Oduduwa Hall, OAU. Oduduwa, regarded as the progenitor of the Yoruba people, is artistically represented by an imposing wooden sculpture carved by Lamidi Olonade Fakeye, which was unveiled at the front of the university theatre in 1987 by Oba Sijuade himself.

    Oba Sijuade also said: “Celebrate the values, virtues and treasures of our towns and cities. Hold public events, conventions and activities that showcase the invaluable riches of Yoruba culture and religion. These are the treasures that have made Yoruba culture and religion a global heritage of humanity.”

    On the last day, it was time to visit Oba Sijuade’s palace.  In a large decorated hall with shimmering lights, the Royal Court Band played danceable melodies, and the visitors socialised in a setting that reflected monarchical grandeur. Oba Sijuade, 83 at the time, was resplendent in a white flowing robe which he wore over purple attire. He wore purple shoes and a glittering white cap.  It was momentous that three devotees were installed as Cultural Ambassadors at the party. They were: Suriname-Dutch American Tony Van Der Meer, Chinese Chiu Ming Ho, and Michelle Abimbola, a white American. There was a mystic dimension to their installation, or perhaps more precisely, their initiation;   one by one, they went briefly into an enclosure formed by powerful traditional chiefs who created a human screen that prevented any view of their encounter with the Oba in the sacred space.

    The 10th edition of Orisa World Congress in Ile-Ife, with the theme “Culture and Global Peace,” was the fourth in the ancient town, and six others have been held in Brazil, USA, Trinidad and Tobago, and Cuba.  Founded by Prof Wande Abimbola in 1981, Orisaworld is “an organisation of practitioners and scholars ofOrisa tradition, religion and culture”; the group’s overriding aim is “to revitalise and rejuvenate the Orisa culture and all its traditions.”

    It is memorable that Oba Sijuade spoke of a religion that would never die: “I hereby make the following proclamation: the religion of Yoruba land; the religion of Oduduwa who descended from Heaven on a chain of iron; the religion of Oranfe who lives in a house of perpetual fire in Heaven; the religion of Ifa, witness of destiny; the religion of Sango, the great warrior and giant, child of Oranmiyan; the religion of Oya nicknamed oriirii, eater of she-goats, the female warrior who wears a sword as part of her outfit; the religion of Osun nicknamed ewuji the greatest mother of all; the religion of Obatala, owner of ancient Iranje; will never perish.”

     

  • Postscript of Buhari’s US visit

    President Buhari’s visit to the United States of America (US) has come and gone. And its outcome has meant different things to different people depending on the angle from which it is viewed.

    Broadly speaking however, there is no doubt the nation stands to gain from such engagements given the globalization of the world economy and the prime role of the US in its affairs. It was also significant in the sense that it represented a demonstration of confidence by that government in the capacity of our democracy to endure.

    Of course, his hosts gave assurances of assistance in the war against the Boko Haram insurgency; the repatriation of looted funds stashed in the vaults of other countries by marauding leaders and such other measures that will aid the nation’s economic development.

    But there were two issues in the course of the visit that should not and cannot be glossed over. This is because they seemed to have cast some slur on the overall success of that visit. The two saw the presidency issuing statements ostensibly to contextualize what was said in the course of the event. The first was the statement credited to the President while answering questions from journalists. He had said “going by the election results, constituencies that gave me 95 per cent cannot in all honesty be treated on the same issues with constituencies that gave me five per cent. I think these are political realities. While certainly there will be justice for everybody but the people who voted and made their votes count, they must feel the government has appreciated the efforts they put in putting the government in place”.

    The second came from his prepared speech at the United States Institute of Peace (USIP). It read, “unwittingly and I dare say, unintentionally the application of the Leahy Law amendment by the US government has aided and abated the Boko Haram terrorist group in the prosecution of its extremist ideology and hate, the indiscriminate killings and maiming of civilians, raping of women and girls, and in other heinous crimes. I believe this is not the spirit of the Leahy Law”.

    On both scores, the Special Adviser to the president on Media and Publicity, Femi Adesina was quick to issue statements either clarifying what the president actually meant or canvassing positions urging the public to be wary of misconstruing what was actually said. Curiously, in all these interventions, he did not say the president was misquoted but only sought to place the statements within the context he would want them to be understood.

    But in doing these, he inadvertently created two sets of problems. The first is the presumption that the larger public is incapable of properly contextualizing both statements and therefore needed to be helped out.  How he came about that conclusion remains largely curious. Second, the clarifications also created the impression that either the presidency was very uncomfortable with its position on the two issues after they went public or it was under pressure from some unseen quarters to defend them. There is also the third suggestion that the president only realized the full purport of the statements after they had gone public. The extent to which those seeming clarifications achieved the desired objective remains largely illusory.

    Before we go into the context of those statements, it will be helpful to bring into focus Adesina’s clarifications on them. The objective is to fathom if there are any differences between them and what the president actually said.

    On how the president will treat those who voted for him, Adesina admitted that what was attributed to the president actually came from him. But then, he contended that the president also said the constitution has guaranteed the rights of every part of the country. According to him, “what this means is that those who voted five per cent will get their due and will not get things commensurate with five per cent votes”. He accused unnamed persons of not balancing the entire statement. The first flaw here is with the concept of what is due to those who voted five per cent. It cannot definitely be the same with what is due to those who voted 95 per cent. There is problem because of the introduction of ratio or proportion. Having brought in this exogenous variable, the clear interpretation is that it will be the prime yardstick for the distributions of the spoils of office. There is absolutely no ambiguity in this. Buhari even went further to admit this consideration as political reality. There are thousand and one angles from which the president could have approached journalists’ question on the matter without bringing in the matter of ratios.

    The argument that the constitution guarantees the rights of every part of the country or that there will be fairness for everybody on that account, cannot mitigate the harm in that position. It could even be further developed to imply that but for such constitutional guarantees, the percentage of votes cast in the last elections would be the only determinant of the president’s relations with parts of the country.

    If you ask me whether the president should have gone into such comparisons, my answer will be capital No! He could have referred his audience to his much acclaimed inaugural statement that he belongs to nobody and belongs to everybody. That could have sufficed. It was therefore a huge contradiction and monumental error to be talking of percentages in the presence of that international audience. By extrapolation, the president succeeded in saying that he belongs to those who massively voted for him in that election. He has to live with that foreboding reality, attempts to clarify it notwithstanding.

    His aide also said in respect of the Leahy Law, the president’s statement was misconstrued. According to him, it should be seen as a passionate appeal to the US government to soften on the law to enable Nigeria intensify action and win the war against Boko Haram. The aspect of the written statement that is said to have been misconstrued and those who misconstrued it is hazy. What that portion of the written speech said is very clear.  Being a written speech, the president must have taken time to go through it and possibly agreed with its content before going public. It is a different ball game if the disputed section was not laced in diplomatic niceties; conveyed unintended meaning and thus inappropriate for that audience. The problem with the statement is in its sweeping assertion that the Leahy Law amendment by the US aids and abets the Boko Haram terrorists group.  The Leahy Law does not aid and abet the Boko Haram terrorists.  Boko Haram is propelled, reinforced and sustained by weird fundamentalist Islamist ideology and the army of their unseen sympathizers. The law only imposes some constraints in the prosecution of the insurgency war. That is the proper perspective. The blame for this vague presentation is still that of the presidency. It was at liberty to have expunged that section if it was sufficiently satisfied it would create doubts for the administration.

    Be that as it may, the discomfort of the government with that portion could possibly have arisen from fears from two quarters-one from the host government and the other from the home country. The US was bound to show discomfort with the statement given the wrong impression it created. On the other hand, the presidency is bound to be scarred by its likely interpretation at home. The second plank is more so given the politicization of the issue of human rights abuses in the war against Boko Haram. Before now, much of the reservations of the US government on that war had hinged on this singular issue. It is for the same reason it refused to sell categories of arms and ammunitions to the last regime. Discomfort could have been aided by the fear that the new regime was about to fall into the same trap.

    There is also the issue of local propaganda. Those who opposed the previous regime had made issues out of its purported human rights abuses. Amnesty International has also been notorious for levying copious allegations along this line without regard for the grave human rights abuses by the fundamentalist group. It would appear this dialectic is at the heart of the current discomfort.

  • The Family Dasuki

    The Family Dasuki


    Whose who hate history and have discouraged our schools from making it a compulsory course of study in our secondary schools should follow the interplay between Sambo Dasuki and Buhari’s men.

    For many, it has gone beyond whether the DSS had warrants, or whether the former NSA had 12 vehicles and five armoured cars, or whether Dasuki had a right to wrap soldiers around his home, or whether his driver spirited away five million dollars, or whether he was guilty of treasonable felony, or whether he clucked peevishly at Chatham under Jonathan.

    For many it is a story not of 2015, but of 1985. According to the story, Sambo Dasuki, then a dashing and ambitious army officer, led a group of soldiers to pick up then military leader Muhammadu Buhari. It was IBB’s coup. Sambo was IBB’s boy. The mission was to stop Buhari from firing IBB and a few other soldiers whose conducts were out of sync with the perceived moral gravity of the Buhari junta.

    Buhari, then as now, was a fatalist, and knew of the plot but reportedly did nothing about it. When Dasuki burst into Buhari’s presence and told him his reign was over, the tall, gaunt and defiant leader still demanded Dasuki and his men to give him the military salute as he was still their superior officer. They obliged before arresting their quarry.

    Buhari spent a long time in captivity. When he walked into a free air, he waltzed back into politics. He dueled IBB over June 12. Later, his body language and speech cadences reflected an unfinished match with the man who truncated him, and he ran for president several times. Some said he had to triumph over IBB, and the marker of that triumph was to take back what IBB took from him. His honour lay in returning to the throne.

    In the course of this epic duel, Dasuki materialised, sword in hand. He broke the first lance in Chatham House, and according to newspaper reports, he subsequently urged all means necessary to stop Buhari and his whirlwind of electoral change.

    Dasuki’s failure is common knowledge.

    So when DSS attacked, the temptation was to reconstruct the standoff as comeuppance. Buhari sought his pound of flesh, it is alleged. Whatever the truth of this matter lies in the speculative realm. And all we urge is the adherence to the rule of law. Dasuki is not above the law, and if he has questions to answer, his historic war with Buhari should take a backseat to the preeminence of the law of the land.

    What fascinates me further though is the irony of the Dasuki family. They are royalty, and the first hint was when his father mounted the throne as sultan. Some in the royal porch thought he had no right to the preeminent seat of the caliphate. In not many words, they called him an impostor. But he soldiered on as the first feather of the royal cock. Questions about his legitimacy haunted him, until the Khalifa, the goggled tyrant, swept him aside. Earlier in his career, Sambo had left his precious perch as a senior officer and ADC to IBB as well documented in Debo Bashorun’s book, Honour For Sale. Things did not seem to work. It was a duel between two eminently undemocratic forces seeking the public to adjudicate on who was legitimate. It is as though it was anticipated in Soyinka’s dark and cynical play, Kongi’s Harvest, where the king and the dictator provide the Hobson’s choice.

    Neither Abacha who ousted him nor the Dasuki family had any legitimacy on the streets, just as Kongi and the oba, and the result was a yam harvest that nourished no one in society.

    It took several years and Boko Haram for a revival of the Dasuki name. GEJ appointed him NSA, and the justification lay in his royal roots. He, a prince, was asked to work the paupers, Boko Haram, to a berth of peace in the Northeast. This column warned that Boko Haram had contempt for princes, and a Dasuki provided an antithesis of the militant’s dreams. It was GEJ’s capital misreading of the conflict of philosophy and social hierarchy of the northern cauldron and conundrum.

    His stewardship stumbled and fell, and Boko Haram became another manifestation of the royal family’s failure. Just like Mark Twain’s famous novel, the prince could not abide the pauper and vice versa. It was partly because of the prince’s failure that voters swept GEJ out of power and Dasuki floated along in the epic gale.

    The DSS standoff is the latest of the Dasuki epic, and something tells me we have not heard the last of it. It is stories like that of Dasuki that provide resources for imaginative novelists to tell tomes of stories of big families, slaughtered ambitions, hubris, intrigues, capitalist acquisitiveness and how such theatrics reflect and prey on the rest of the society over generations. Such books include Dostoyevsky’s Brothers Karamazov, John Updike’s Rabbit trilogy, Thomas Mann’s Buddenbrooks etc.

    Since the Dasuki family tasted the throne, it has lost its innocence. It is like Anton Chekhov’s famous short story called The kiss, when a man lost all concentration for a long time after an unknown lady kissed him in a dark room. He could not replicate the experience and spent the rest of life in despair of that magical moment.

  • Positive terrorism

    OF all the arguments to redeem the image of the Nigerian military as it battles unimpressively and unconvincingly against terrorism, the most mystifying must be the illogic that blames media treatment of the anti-terror war for the continuing demystification of the country’s armed forces. The signs of a possible prolongation of the already protracted defiance of state capacity by the Islamist militia Boko Haram are observable, despite oft-repeated assurances from official quarters that the insurrectionists are doomed.

    Media blaming was discernible when the Director of Defence Information, Major-General Chris Olukolade, launched his two books in Abuja on June 30. The title of one of the books in particular, Issues in the mobilization of public support for military operations in Nigeria, was suggestive enough.  The other book was called The Voice and battles of the Nigerian military.

     It is instructive to note that Olukolade stated his aim in a pre-launch message: to “celebrate the Nigerian military and my career therein.” Given this celebratory goal, the event was not a stage for self-contemplation. In other words, the military emerged from the event smelling good. But not the media, which needs to ponder the wider and graver implications of Olukolade’s remarks about its performance in the context of the anti-terror war Speaking about the men and women whose job is to “splash military stories across pages around the world”, Olukolade reportedly said: “I think they misrepresent our stories not out of sheer mischief but out of mere disorientation.”

    According to a report: “He added that the only way to reduce the level of misinformation is to increase the skills of journalists and media executives to report issues of military affairs. Mr. Olukolade noted that he has always sought to reduce the instances of misinterpretation of military actions but also eliminate public empathy towards the use of the military power when the need arises.”

    It is interesting that Olukolade’s message to the media was reformulated and reinforced by no other than former military president Ibrahim Babangida in a Sallah message on July 15. Babangida was perhaps more frontal in his accusation that the media has been pro-terrorism in practice. He said: “Going by the news and information we get every day, I feel very strongly that the media has a greater role to play in the management of information. The types of headlines and lead stories that are promoted in favour of the insurgents could only help to motivate members of Boko Haram rather than demotivate them.”

    Babangida also said: “I expect, with a deep sense of patriotism, to see a greater deal of positive news promoted in support of military efforts at confronting this menace than a celebration of Boko Haram carnage, day in and day out…Each time we celebrate the dastardly acts of Boko Haram on the front pages of our newspapers and electronic platforms, it is a score for Boko Haram. We must weigh such information against our collective national interest. Do we subscribe to Boko Haram or to the Nigeria nation?”

    Evidently, Babangida considers the media guilty of anti-state activities, guilty of romancing and romanticising terrorism and terrorists. What deepens the gravity of Babangida’s charges is that they were made by an ex-military ruler and seem to reflect the current thinking in the military as expressed by Olukolade. This may be interpreted as a strange and complex manoeuvre by the military and its friends to shift an essentially military burden. It is disturbing because the externalisation of responsibility mirrors possible internal confusion and frustration.

    It would appear that there is a misapprehension of the media’s role in the “reconstruction of reality”. Reporting realities does not necessarily suggest poverty of patriotism or partying with terrorism. The military got it wrong.

     It must be thought-provoking that Abubakar Shekau, the elusive Boko Haram leader, was this year among “The World’s Most Influential People” listed by TIME. The identified influencers in the 2015 TIME 100 included four Nigerians and Shekau was the most intriguing of them, specifically because he is an anti-hero. According to the TIME portrait, “the citizens of Nigeria, Africa’s most populous country, know Abubakar Shekau all too well: he is the most violent killer their country has ever seen.”

    Of course, Shekau’s terrifying profile is compounded by the outrageous seizure of more than 200 schoolgirls by Boko Haram terrorists in Chibok, Borno State, over one year ago.  With most of the kidnapped girls still missing and the world still in shock, Shekau and his followers are like an open wound on humanity’s conscience.

    Before the TIME ranking, an international think tank, the Project for the Study of the 21st Century, said the Boko Haram insurgency was the fourth deadliest conflict in the world in 2014 and responsible for 11, 529 deaths. It is noteworthy that the think tank added that the figure of fatalities could be underestimated.

    The activities of Shekau and his destroyers necessitated ongoing emergency rule in Adamawa, Borno and Yobe states, and prompted the formation of a multi-national regional force expected to crush Boko Haram, including fighters from Nigeria and neighbouring Chad, Cameroon and Niger.

    To underline Boko Haram’s unignorable notoriety, the National Economic Council (NEC), after a July 23 meeting, released alarming information about its deliberations: “On Boko Haram issues, governors of Yobe and Borno raised the alarm of five local government areas of the two states being in possession of the insurgents.” Is it possible that reporting the dominance of terrorists in the affected local government areas, for instance, could be interpreted as a celebration of terrorism by the media?

    The anti-terror war is a real war in real life, affecting real people; and communicating these realities is part of the media’s real job. It goes without saying that fighting the war against Boko Haram is specifically a military responsibility, while reporting the conflict is a media responsibility. It may well be that, as far as the military is concerned, the media’s professional focus on the twists and turns in the fight against terrorism is itself terrorism of sorts. This may well be positive terrorism. In the final analysis, the military cannot reasonably expect an anti-terror partnership with the media that will negate the essence of its watchdog role.

  • Tears for Wike

    Tears for Wike


    [dropcap]J[/dropcap]ust like his Ekiti counterpart, Governor Nyesom Wike is one of the few people in Nigerian politics who should not be burdened with high office. His handling of the task of education minister was such a scandal that it was obvious that GEJ – no superior himself – had thrust an illiterate in charge of churning out persons of letters. He might have gone to school and evinced a measure of articulation. But his is education without culture. That was why Leo Tolstoy launched a campaign “to educate the educated.”

    His latest iniquity was a parody of Jesus when he promised to come back like a thief in the night. Wike decided to do his own in broad daylight. He paid two shameless visits to the Chief Justice of the Federation, Mahmoud Muhammed. The CJN understood the integrity of his office and the compromise that the governor’s call implied for the promise of justice in the land. He promptly made it public.

    Wike quickly clutched at straws to defend himself. He said he wanted to discuss the state of Rivers State renewal of the acting chief judge position. He said he was not there to influence the man over the ongoing case between him and Peterside Dakuku on the governor poll.

    As they say in my village, “talk another thing.” Does he know he is governor? Does he know that a governor should understand what is called conflict of interest? If, as he claims in his release, that he belongs to the body of benchers, who taught him law and how roguish were his teachers? Did he not know what due process was? Why did he have to visit twice and fail before he knew what he should have done in the first place? That is, write a letter.

    If he did not understand it, the CJN knows. He knows that corruption charges have hung over the judiciary in matters of election adjudication. If Wike (clumsily spelt Wilke in his own advertorial) did not know that, then he should not be in that position. Due process, especially in matters of justice, is sacrosanct. Tears for Wike!

    He stated that he visited the CJN as “a member of the Body of Benchers.”  So was it not Wike the governor who visited but Wike the member of body of benchers. The letter he eventually wrote, was it written as a member of the Body of Benchers or as governor?

    On what authority does a member of the Body of Benchers go to the CJN to resolve issues about the chief judge of Rivers State? He can’t answer these questions without exposing his mediocrity and lack of goodwill for the law.

    In any decent society, Wike would quit his perch as governor. But the man who acted as a boor as minister and irritant now as governor does not know better than harass and threaten journalists in advertorials over his own wrongdoing.

  • Buhari and terrorism war

    It is not certain why suicide bomb attacks have resurged with a high degree of lethality since the coming on stream of the Buhari administration. From Plateau to Yobe; Adamawa to Borno, it has been a catalogue of deaths as the sect through the instrumentality of suicide bombs have killed and maimed thousands of innocent people at their worship places in the mosques, churches and other public places.

    One theory which will draw appeal from military apologists is that which seeks to posit a positive correlation between the phenomenon and the successes recorded at the battle field in the days preceding the last elections. One person that will quickly identify with this proposition is the former Chief of Army Staff, Lt Gen Kenneth Minimah. He had while handing over to his successor, Major Gen. Tukur Buratai said during his tenure, they were able to reclaim all territories earlier lost to the terrorists, sufficiently degrade their potency and reduce them to a band of criminals and petty thieves. In view of these successes, he was confident that Boko Haram terrorists’ insurgency was “at a certain defeat”

    By logical inference, Minimah may have been saying that the easy resort of the terrorists to suicide bomb attacks is a consequence of the degradation and decimation of their fighting power. Having been dislodged from the swathes of territories under their control, their remnants then infiltrated the larger society and have to take resort to suicide escapades to keep their weird campaign on. There is some plausibility in this theory even as that appeal is still within the realm of conjecture.

    The other plank of the explaining variable is that which seeks to link the escalation to the order by President Buhari for the military to be withdrawn from the checkpoints in the country. Those who subscribe this view cite the escalation of violence immediately after the order was issued. That order has since been rescinded with the soldiers returning to the checkpoints. But the suicide bomb attacks have refused to abate.

    It has remained a matter of educated guess why suicide bomb attacks which formed the initial strategy of the terrorists at their budding stages have resurged with such a high degree of lethality that have left at their wake a harvest of deaths, shock and awe.

    This notwithstanding, Buhari has initiated actions in several fronts to underscore the point most poignantly that he will go the whole hug to make good his electoral promise to wrestle Boko Haram insurgency to the ground. He has amassed an international coalition against the scourge with firm promises of assistance. His just concluded tour of the US was also part of the strategy to get further commitment of that country’s leadership in the crusade against the festering Islamic fundamentalist war.

    But as the president is committed to these efforts, some of his actions and utterances have not gone down well with the larger public. One of such was the hasty order for the withdrawing of soldiers from the checkpoints. By rescinding that order almost immediately after it was issued, the impression was given that the president did not fully appreciate the complexities of the matter before he assumed office. Or was it meant to ride on a populist crest since complaints had been rife of the inconveniences suffered by commuters on account of the strictness of the soldiers?

    There are also mixed feelings regarding President Buhari’s statements while hosting the National Executive Council of the Arewa Consultative Forum (ACF). He had told the group it was most worrisome that the Nigerian military had to rely on South African mercenaries before it could gain recent successes in the war against Boko Haram and described the situation as “shameful and worrisome”. The venue of the disclosure was inappropriate. So also was the subject matter. This is more so given the undue politicization of the Boko Haram insurgency in the period leading to the elections.

    The matter was such that the contending political parties sought through all manner of subterfuge to rope in the other as sponsors of the insurgency. The observed ambivalence of a section of the northern elite to come clearly against the scourge did not help matters. It is therefore only proper that utmost care is taken in the renewed commitment to battle Boko Haram.  A few examples of the very dangerous level the blame game had degenerated before now would suffice. The Northern Elders Forum had late last year in a statement by Dr. Hakeem Baba Ahmed and Solomon Dalung alleged that most of the “conflicts in the north are being engineered to weaken the north both economically and politically by interests who intend to exploit such weaknesses for electoral advantage”.

    Former governor of Adamawa State, Muritala Nyako in his caustic and controversial letter to northern states governors’ forum titled “on-going full scale genocide in northern Nigeria” accused the federal government of killing the citizens and attributing the killings to the “ so-called Boko Haram”. He further alleged that kidnappers must have the backing of the federal administration for them to move freely with “abducted children”. The kernel of his submission was that Boko Haram was being sponsored to decimate the north.

    The authors of these statements are still alive. So also are the peddlers of sundry allegations that added complications to the prosecution of that war. President Buhari has rightly identified the fact that Boko Haram has international dimensions and only within that context can the war be successfully be fought. That is the right way to go. It will therefore be very interesting to hear the views of all those who had before now sought to poison the minds of the public on the nature and character of that war.

    There is no attempt here to reopen old wounds. But given events of the war since Buhari took over, it is apposite to reflect on some of these sweeping allegations so as to create a safe ground for the commitment of all and sundry to its eventual conclusion. No doubt, there is renewed public interest in the war against Boko Haram both from the side of the government and the larger public. We are interested in a quick conclusion of the war against the senseless killings and decimation of our people. But even at this, we are no less interested in the processes and activities that will bring about that much desired end.

    It is no longer a matter of promises or the trading of blames as people are yearning for a quick end to the insurgency. Our people have died enough. Any legitimate action to end the conflict will be generally acceptable to all. So if takes the services of mercenaries either from South Africa or elsewhere for the insurgency to be defeated so be it. Whatever losses the nation may suffer in terms of image or such very intangible things as prestige will be doubly compensated by the lives we stand to save from its quick conclusion. After all what difference will it make when we now go cap in hand seeking foreign assistance?  Only then shall we be able to understand the nature and character of that insurgency. Then also, shall we be in a good position to know the leitmotif of the Boko Haram insurgency

    We are waiting!

  • Be your beggars’ keeper

    Beggars are expected to beg, aren’t they?  Kaduna State Governor Nasir El-Rufai should by now understand that a government ban on street begging cannot make sense to beggars. Following the July 7 terrorism-related morning bomb blast in Zaria that killed no fewer than 25 people, the governor’s spokesman, Samuel Aruwan, said in a statement: ”All beggars and hawkers are to stay off the streets until further notice. Any beggar or hawker found on the streets will be arrested until these measures are relaxed.” Aruwan justified the order: “The government is a responsible government and conscious of its constitutional role to protect citizens and to ensure law and order for common good. The state government will not fold its arms and allow citizens to be killed via terror acts and breakdown of law and order, hence the decision.”

    The affected beggars must have wondered: What has begging got to do with terrorism? It is noteworthy that the bombing was said to have been carried out by an unidentified female suicide bomber who had a baby strapped to her back. A few days after the government’s announcement, a group of beggars demonstrated against the ban. It was a thought-provoking drama as beggars took their protest to the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ) state secretariat in Kaduna. Interestingly, they interpreted the ban as an attempt by the government to implicate beggars in the activities of terrorists against the state. A report quoted a beggar who spoke on behalf of the protesters, Abdullahi Jugunu: “Apart from feeling insulted, we will be seeking legal redress against the government, first for defamation of character.” Jugunu sounded like a man who knew what he was talking about. Did he? In addition, the beggars argued that the government’s warning amounted to a violation of their right to life, suggesting that begging is an unchallengeable right, as far as they are concerned.

    Against this backdrop of dissension, it was unsurprising that beggars disobeyed the government’s order. A report said: “A visit to major road junctions in the state showed non- compliance with the order.” Beggars reportedly showed up for business “along Isa Kaita Road, Ahmadu Bello Way and the popular Kawo Motor Park.” One of the beggars at Kawo junction was quoted as saying: “I do not care about what they say. All I know is I have to find something to eat and this is the only business I can do, begging.” This particular beggar   provided a basic philosophy of begging that will always defy control because it is founded on a lack of basic needs.

    It is striking that after the punch and counter-punch, El-Rufai struck a deal with beggars when he visited the Kano Road beggars’ colony and the Kaduna State Rehabilitation Centre. There are two observable complications that may eventually cripple the agreement. The first is connected with El-Rufai’s promise to build a training centre close to the Kano Road beggars’ colony to empower beggars with skills that would enable them to dump street begging. It is unclear when El-Rufai would swing into action. However, it is clear that the beggars won’t be out of action while they wait for the governor to keep his word.  It is instructive to note the clarity of Mallam Abdullahi Samaila, who spoke for the beggars. He was quoted as saying: “It is not that we derive pleasure in begging for alms. However, we will get out of the streets once the governor fulfills his promises.” In other words, the burden of actualisation rests on El-Rufai.

    The other difficulty exposes a public policy impotency and incongruity. The remarkably ironic picture of a rehabilitation centre in urgent need of rehabilitation confronted El-Rufai when he visited the state-run rehabilitation centre in Kakuri.  The governor also promised to rehabilitate this centre soon as part of his efforts to get beggars off the streets. The existence of the Kakuri centre is a pointer to the scale of street begging in the state and the scope of governmental intervention. But more importantly, the condition of the centre indicated that it had been treated cosmetically by previous administrations. It is obvious that the situation will problematise the enforcement of the begging ban. Pending the rehabilitation of the centre, beggars are likely to seek rehabilitation on the streets.

    In the context, El-Rufai sounded delusional as he tried to sound focused. He rejected the argument that beggars have a right to beg. “There is no going back on the ban on street begging,” he told beggars. But experience has shown that banning begging is easier said than done.

    It is convenient for El-Rufai, who has spent only about two months in office out of a four-year term, to cite security concerns as justification for his anti-begging posture, especially the fear that beggars could be employed to carry out terroristic acts by Boko Haram militants. However, considering that his move against beggars was prompted by the Zaria bombing, it is a weighty point against his administrative vision. From the look of things, El-Rufai was unprepared for the beggars’ burden and didn’t have any prior agenda for beggars.

    Lamentably, it is this kind of ad hoc approach that has sustained street begging not only in Kaduna State. It is demonstrably true that street beggars are hardly ever factored into development programmes in the country, whether at the federal level or at the state level. Those in the corridors of power need to understand that general poverty-alleviation schemes are inadequate for the peculiar poverty of beggars. The reality is that beggars deserve a beggar-targeted plan of remedial action.

    A study relevant to Nigeria classified beggars into six categories: “the physically deformed and disabled otherwise incapacitated; the physically deformed and handicapped but with relatively less disability such as those with single amputations or partial blindness; those who claim to be medically ill or appear to be so; those who claim illness but do not look so; those with prominent symptoms of psychiatric disability; and the elderly.”

    Add to this picture the informed observation by researchers that “lack of political will and religious institutions encourage begging”, the result is a phenomenon that requires phenomenal attention and socio-economic action from the political authorities particularly.  The best begging control measures must be holistic, which El-Rufai and his ilk do not seem to appreciate.

  • Obasanjo’s choice of successor

    Former president, Olusegun Obasanjo last week, threw some insight into the rationale for his choice of successor at the twilight of his regime. In an interview with a local television station, he said he chose the late Umaru Yar’Adua because he was the only one among those eying the job that was not corrupt.

    According to him, while one of those who wanted the job was heavily corrupt, another contender came to him and said – Sir, I like your job. But I cannot do it the way you are doing it. His reading of the latter was that the contender had plainly told him he did not have the kind of stamina (he) Obasanjo applied to the job. For that reason, he does not see any appeal to help him get the job.   Justifying his decision further, he said “with all the people that are available for successor, what we came out with was about the best we could think of at that time,”

    What can be deduced from the above is that the desire to enthrone people of impeccable character into that elated office as a prelude to battling corruption weighed very heavily in Obasanjo’s calculations of who to succeed him. Thus, in considering those he needed to help get to the exalted office he took into account their records in the public offices they then held. Based on this critical index, he said his choice of Yar’Adua was the best at that time.

    Obasanjo is entitled to his opinion. His claimed commitment to very credible and non corrupt leadership at that level may have been the critical factor for his choice of successor. Thus, the appeal of Yar’Adua who according to him, stood shoulders high above his peers within that matrix. There was no doubt that Yar’Adua was a modest, selfless and honest person. Not many will fault him on that ground. The issue that was copiously raised against his candidature bordered on his fragile health which many feared could not withstand the rigors of that office. Unfortunately, the same fears came to pass through his unfortunate demise barely two years in office.

    His death may have denied the nation the benefits of those high-minded virtues that endeared him to Obasanjo for which he thought he would have been a shining example in probity and accountability- leadership qualities the nation is in very dire need of. With his passing on, it is difficult to fathom the impact he would have brought to bear within this critical index. By the same twist of fate, there are no sufficient grounds to fault Obasanjo over that choice even as the stamina of an obviously unhealthy person was also in doubt. So we are left with no option than to believe that Yar’Adua, given this rating, was the most suitable among those who showed interest for that office within the ruling PDP.

    By extrapolation, the choice of his Vice, Goodluck Jonathan followed the same consideration. Obasanjo paved the way for his national ascendancy when in a very crude manner he procured the services of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission EFCC to impeach his boss, Diepreye Alamieyeseigha in the most controversial manner. He was also to pick him to run with Yar’Adua. Obasanjo acknowledged this role in his controversial letter to Jonathan titled “before it is too late” He had in that desperate letter designed to dissuade Jonathan from running the last elections, captured Jonathan’s impression of his role in his life thus, “You put me third after God and your parents among those that have impacted most in your life”.

    In that letter, he also levied all manner of allegations against Jonathan. These included incompetence, running aground the economy, training snipers and corrupt practices. Today, the impression is high that the Jonathan administration encouraged corruption. The allegation has been bandied and bought into by sundry personages including those who personify all that is bad about corruption in our national life. If this impression is taken as the correct representation of extant realities, would Obasanjo not take vicarious liability for its outcome?

    Beyond this however, there are issues that have been thrown up by the revelations from Obasanjo. And they have wider repercussions for the type of democracy we operate in this country. There is the inevitable impression given the way he spoke that the choice of his successor was solely his. And his perceptions rightly or wrongly determined what was best for the country. The other fallout is that freedom of choice- a cardinal feature of representative democracy had to succumb to the dictatorship of a behemoth. There are serious problems with such a reality because the views of one man or an oligarch in such critical issue as who leads a country can be highly circumscribed. And as can be gleaned from his choice of Yar’Adua and his deputy Jonathan, Obasanjo shares vicarious responsibility for the current mess the nation found itself. The convoluted impression by a few people that they would ever remain the conscience of the country because of the positions accidents of history entrusted on them is at the root of the nation’s retardation. Had Obasanjo and his henchmen allowed that freedom of choice which is the lynchpin on which democracy revolves, those thrown up through popular will may have turned out better. Perhaps also, the country could have been saved all the distractions these past years that nearly dismembered it. Obasanjo fell short of regretting those choices when he admitted that ‘if you take your son as your successor, you are not sure of what he will do when he gets there’.

    The other evidence of faulty interpretation is shown by his reading of the statements of one of the contenders who had told him he liked the job but could not do it the way Obasanjo was doing it. Curiously, the former president interpreted this to mean the man does not have the stamina to do the job. That is a simplistic perspective of the obviously loaded statement. Obasanjo should have asked himself what is that way he did the job the contender said he could not? Answers to this will vary. He may even discover to his dismay, that some of his ways may have fallen short of known best practices. He may have even found out that his way may not be another persons’ way and that approaches to statecraft vary a great deal. There is even the added possibility that his style may have even been an unmitigated liability to the flourishing of the pristine tenets of the democratic culture. The boundaries of such inquisition and possible exposures are limitless. But then, why must Obasanjo want his successor to go about things the way he did it. When has his style become the standard practice or moral guide for action?

    Take the issue of corruption which he said was the major consideration. Were those he described as rottenly corrupt not products of the system he superintended over? How did that system allow them to amass such humongous wealth with him in control?

    These posers come handy because of the obvious excesses and overbearing influence that characterized his days in power. That was the time the EFCC was straddling the landscape like a colossus. That was the time the same Obasanjo procured the services of the body to impeach duly elected governors. He may argue that impeaching some governors the way it happened during his regime represented his own response to battling corruption. That could as well be. But that strategy did incurable damage to the image and credibility of that commission such that even today, it is being seen as a partisan tool in the hands of the ruling government. That time saw the EFCC being variously and viciously deployed to haunt and tackle political foes or those who refused to toe the line of the president. There was therefore a lot wrong with Obasanjo’s style of administration to expect that his ways amounted to the right ways forward.

    Perhaps, it is safer to assume Obasanjo was compelled to those choices having been boxed to the corner by the premature death of his third term gambit. Someone engrossed with such a weird ambition would be left with little time for a workable succession plan. What we are facing today may be the prize for stopping Obasanjo from his self perpetuating plan. Even within the index he assessed those to hand over to, it is still a moot issue if he represented a good example.

  • Blood in the sky

    Blood in the sky

    I recall my first flight out of the country on our national carrier in the early 1990’s. I had just won a prestigious professional fellowship in Canada, but I had to spend a few days in London. I had what was then an OK ticket. Technically, it implied I could walk right into the aircraft and to my seat.

    The reality was, however, a nightmare. More persons than available seats had Ok tickets. All wanted to fly out that Sunday morning. A melee was inevitable. In spite of our formal – some had flamboyant – dressings and the retinue of family and friends on hand to say goodbye, we knew the journey had no guarantee. Some people would return that morning to their homes. Families and friends reined in their farewells. Rather they joined the travellers in the many queues to secure boarding passes. The lines formed and collapsed repeatedly as though a human parody of the pack of cards.

    I was lucky to secure one, thanks to a relative who quickly sensed the formation of a new line and took her place in the front. Needless to say, after securing my ticket, the line tumbled over.

    That was the story of the Nigeria Airways. It was also that way in local travels. Travellers waxed into sprinters, and if your flight was called and you warbled, it was hard luck. Wait another time.

    The Nigeria Airways was a failure and a sad reminder about how government can ruin a great product. Nigeria Airways also blossomed in an age state-run enterprises when the current thought was government monopoly. Socialism was the bride of theorists and idealists.

    But the experience was one of corruption. Government bigwigs subverted protocol and obtained OK tickets. Business moguls also waded in and, of course, staff took advantage to make a killing. Nepotism, of course, had its pride of place.

    The nightmare seems to be coming back, it seems. The Ahmed Joda committee has recommended a return to the Nigeria Airways model, according to news reports. It will imply merging the existing airlines, and bring them under a national carrier. It is a return to the past of failure.

    “To stumble twice over a stone,” warned Cicero, “is a proverbial disgrace.” It is like taking the Titanic back to the Ice field, and expecting a miracle. This is the age of free enterprise, and it calls for competition. It does not call for control.

    We have never done it right in this country. Even our refineries, in spite of the good it did in the past, are wilting under what everyone knows as government fiat and corruption. NEPA went through similar rut and wrapped us around with a web of darkness. To resolve it, we have had to go through a ponderous rigmarole of dismantling. We are seeing what that is causing us today with the fingers of government corruption writ large in the GENCOs and DISCOs.

    Ahmed Joda is a familiar name in Nigerian bureaucracy. He was a permanent secretary when that position had the force of a bullet. Like Allison Ayida, he was called a super permanent secretary. So it was expected that he knew about the Nigerian civil service as much as anyone. But he worked in a different generation, in what I would call an antediluvian time of our government. His choice by PMB to head the transition committee was informed by experience but not imagination.

    The world has leapt past the range of the man, and his recommendation of merger may be a reflection of his ancient train of thought. I hope he redeems that perception by more sophisticated recommendations to the Buhari administration.  This is a world of free enterprise, not of monopolistic domination.

    Instead of calling for a single carrier, it should call for an enabling environment for the carriers to operate. One of the drawbacks for the airline industry is the financial predation of the banks. Airlines everywhere are heavy investments, and banks should not be made to impose interest rates at such high levels. In fact, this is not restricted to the airlines. It is the hobgoblin of Nigerian business. Small businesses have been suffocated while large ones lumber along.

    To ask them to collapse under a new sort of Nigeria Airways will attract tremendous taxpayer’s money and it will be a gamble. This is no time for gamble. Another thing: governments should realise that airlines, like many international businesses, groan under the present foreign exchange rate. It now goes for a dollar to about N240. This calls for caution.

    If the airlines are to merge, they should do it on their own terms. Forcing the marriage as they did with the banks is the wrong way to go. The bank mergers have eventually worked at tremendous costs. But it is a market that also offers variety. A single carrier would create a government misnomer. That is, a government will be held responsible for monopolistic practices. The United States president Theodore Roosevelt fought this against big business men like John D. Rockefeller because he knew the government had no stain on its shirt. He even fought with the financiers of his candidacy. He was a Republican and his main opponents were in his party. He risked their alienation to uphold a just cause. This was about a hundred years ago.

    The Nigerian government should not be seen to pursue such anomaly when the world, through laws and conventions, are backing away because of its moral wrong. Marriages, however, should be by consent.

    “A marriage is not a word,” crooned Oscar Wilde. “It is a sentence.” A forced one will be a death sentence for the airline industry again.

    The Daily Times is an opposite of the Nigeria Airways narrative. It prospered without government interference until the Owu chief came. As military head of state, Gen. Olusegun Obasanjo clipped the wings of the great newspaper, and its decline and fall became inevitable.

    The British Airways is the model for Nigeria’s peacock class today. But it used to be a conglomerate of sorts under government control. The owners knew it was not sustainable, so they privatised it. That unleashed its mammoth potential for profit. Nigeria is one of their great customers although they give us the least of their fleet.

    We need to open the door for our airlines to bloom, and not clip the wings as we did that of the Daily Times and the Nigeria Airways.

    We don’t want our airline industry to fulfill the myth of Daedalus and Icarus. The story of Daedalus, the father, and Icarus, the son, have become classics about misplaced ambition. Daedalus warned his son Icarus not to fly too close to the sun in the wings he made for him. It was made of wax. But Icarus disobeyed, and flew too high. He crashed because the sun melted the wax.

    Metaphorically, our planes are flying in bad weather, with clouds of hard finance and suffocating winds of official interference. Right now they would like to fulfil the famous quote from John Webster’s play, The Duchess of Malfi, where a character says, “Black birds fatten in hard weather.” But they are failing up there. The second coming of the Nigeria Airways may smear the clouds. We do not want blood in our skies.