Category: Sam Omatseye

  • Another Judas kiss

    Another Judas kiss

    When last week, Atiku Abubakar announced he was leaving APC, few were surprised. It was not whether but when. We anticipated it. As Poet Samuel Coleridge wrote, “anticipation is more potent than surprise.”

    Atiku did not stun anyone by walking out of the APC tent because he was a tenant. The landlords branded him a pariah. To be clear, Atiku could not abort it, so he let the pregnancy grow, and accepted the baby. He graced the naming but no one made him godfather. He neither named the child though he contributed a thing or two during the ante natal days of anxiety. He wanted to be a father or uncle in the conception hour. He got neither. He merely feasted as a faraway grandee in the naming ceremony. He, however enjoyed the privilege of holding the baby in the generous hour of delivery.

    The baby probably screamed and punched Atiku’s bosom, just as in Charles Dickens’ novel Dombey and Son when Dombey’s son screams and kicks and punches as protest for being brought into the world so suddenly. Atiku was not fazed nor was he grouchy. He is not a gauche politician. He never voices a brutish sentiment nor deploys unpolished diction. He may not be debonair but he does not raise his hands ominously in public nor threatens brimstone from heaven. He keeps himself within himself.

    So, in the early days of the Buhari administration, he tried to associate with and hug the baby. He once called President Buhari “the father of the nation.” The baby grew but Atiku never was let in during the rites of childhood: the teething moments, the suckling frenzy as the child slurped and slobbered, the crawls and stumbles before he found his feet, the ta-ta-ta of his tongue in search of the first word.

    So, we could understand since early this year when the voice of the Adamawa patriarch grew progressively radiant in rage against the system. He was at his loftiest in the restructuring debate. His potency and mellifluous rendering were less a signature of his conviction as salvos of revenge to Aso Rock and its wheel horses.

    Atiku was ambitious. Apart from Buhari, no one in Nigeria has eyed the supreme post as the Adamawa titan. He was naïve to expect Buhari and his clan to clasp him to their bosoms. As Winston Churchill’s friend, Lord Beaverbrook, once said, “a man with a will to power can’t make friends.” He was a vice president and sniffed the majestic aroma of the top chair. He wants it and wants it now. Buhari was in the top chair before, even if by impunity, and he wanted it back even with democratic effluvia. But he flunked three times. Buhari knows how it is to want it badly, and so understands why Atiku is quietly growling. So, both cannot be good friends.

    Especially when Atiku in the early days partnered with Oloye Eleyinmi to undermine him for a coup in the Senate. He also wanted to be chair of the board of trustees. He fluffed. He saw the bathwater, not the cot or baby. His rent as tenant expired. No wanting to be an exile at home, he exited the tent.

    His power quest reminds one of Awo, who never had the opportunity, and whom Dan Agbese first described before his death as “the best president Nigeria never had.” But Atiku has none of Awo’s charisma, mystique, moral heft, political infrastructure, intellectual might or visionary appeal.

    His ambition reminds me of the opening lines of Jane Austen’s novel, Pride and Prejudice. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” Atiku has possessed so much wealth he is in want of power; in this case, presidency.

    That was the story of Moshood Abiola and his fabulous nest. These guys have so much money they become unhappy without power. But Atiku craves power like Hobson’s choice. His has become a metaphor for the major ailment of Nigerian politics: the lack of ideology or principle. Atiku is now the signpost of the Nigerian whore in politics. He has had his own machine known as the PDM, which he also inherited from his mentor General Musa Yar’adua, who died in search of power in prison. Yar’adua transferred the gene to Atiku. Yar’adua never wanted to back anyone who was not Yar’adua. He never associated with the power blocs up north, he never associated with progressives, he distanced himself from Abiola, and never joined the battle for June 12. When he was picked up, no one fought for him.

    Atiku joined PDP, became vice president, fought the Owu chief, joined ACN, returned to PDP, defected to APC. He is expected to announce his return to PDP. Hence, I once called him the peripatetic harlot of Nigerian politics. He is not alone in this. The APC, for all its self-congratulations, is a hodgepodge of quite a few harlots. That’s why Atiku thought he could fit in so well. He failed there not because APC was a better brothel but because even whoring brothers disagree. Atiku was the wrong whore for the APC.

    No politician will judge Atiku for sleeping with the enemy. They will scoff him for his Judas kiss. But he does not need to get any amount of silver from anyone. Even the lashing of his firms cannot upturn his robust nest. His ambition is his life work. It does not matter if he is like Sisyphus of the Greek myth who pushes a rock up hill and, when near the summit, the rock falls down, and he goes up and down again forever without taking the rock to the top. In Homer’s classic The Odyssey, Odysseus visits the land of the dead and sees Sisyphus still at it.

    Maybe Atiku is contented simply to pursue the dream without getting there. French philosopher Albert Camus argues in his The Rebel that Sisyphus was happy. Maybe Atiku will find happiness in the toil of ambition even if he does not reach the summit.

     

     

    El-Rufai vs Teachers

     The diminutive governor of Kaduna State, Nasir El-Rufai, got in the eye of the storm over tests and presumable firing of teachers who could not pass primary four tests. What bothered me most in this furore is the Nigerian Union of Teachers who did not like the tests and the decision to separate the teachers from the job. I agree with the Kaduna State governor. We cannot have anyone feed our children with ignorance. There is no way they should teach anyone. Such teachers are an infection. In the north, we worry about insurgency and Boko Haram, which say western education is sin. Then teachers sin against the same education. El-Rufai may consider any palliatives for the sacked teachers. But the teachers deserve no pity for deliberately imposing the poison on their minds on innocents. We want more information on how they got hired. Corruption is key here, but whatever the suffering the teachers will undergo when removed cannot compare to the thousands of unbaked venomous minds they spew out as students into the world. I will visit this topic fully another day, but suffice it to say that El-Rufai should be congratulated for his ruthless decision. Education is too important a matter to be left in the hands of ignoramuses.

     

    Obituary

    For Peter Obi, the soft-spoken former governor, it is Obituary in Anambra State politics. Willie Obiano’s victory is Obi’s political death knell. He installed Obiano, but now Obiano is presiding over his funeral. Obi, a decent man though, is now a statesman without a state. He is in a state of what Buddhists call Bardo, or Catholics  call limbo. Will he look like the characters in the Booker-winning novel, Lincoln in The Bardo by George Saunders, where Abraham Lincoln meets with his son in the Afterlife? Obi’s candidate could not even flatter him with a second position. Obiano buried him in a landslide. Adieu, the girl-voiced warrior.

  • The dark gentleman

    The dark gentleman

    When the Greek philosopher Pliny the Elder opined that “there is always something new out of Africa,” was he not referring to the quiet storm of Zimbabwe?

    The unfolding scenario in that country has no precedent in history. Where else do soldiers “remove” a despot and say it is no coup? Robert Mugabe cannot issue an army command, but he still claims to be president? Where is the power when the “coupists” negotiate with the “ousted” fellow? Some unimginables have happened: photo ops handshake and smiles with him. Under house arrest he struts out of confinement to a university graduation. His nine-decades feet still crisp, his slight stoop packing an authoritarian halo.

    The nonagenarian is defiant, his removers seem complaisant. He puffs, the soldiers doff their fatigues. Everyone seems fatigued by it all, but Mugabe farts on the power transition. It is comical, but no one is laughing. He is abandoned by his wife Grace, which calls to mind the femme fatales of political intrigues: Cleopatra, Medea, Lady Macbeth, Yaa Asantewa, Livia. Grace was the heir apparent until her hair had no royal apparel.

     

    Yet reports have it that when he breaks down in tears, it is not Grace, the 52-year-old scheming termagant she craves. She calls his dead wife from the days when he was still hailed a hero. The world swooned and pined for him to shepherd the country to the shores of justice. But we learn a lesson from him: If power changes with hurrahs, they don’t always usher in heroes. He was a hero before he became a horror.

    Horror for the economy that grovelled for food, investments and jobs. He is not only megalomaniac, he is blood thirsty. He has taken advantage of the three great sources of human mobilisation: Faith, tribe and ideal. Faith was a little simple. It was faith in the motherland. He converted it into faith in Mugabe. He became the god of democracy, the one constant in the life of the people. Only the God in heaven could claim that. He could not be removed, pummelled opposition and doubt, and turned the nation’s currency into at once a pariah and plaything. It was faith in the motherland that turned him against the economic mainstay of its agrarian bulwark: the white farmers. He took their land and handed them to “his people.” It was black against white. He turned the concept of racism upside down. He pauperised his people but won many to his side. He looked coy when he was cunning.

    Tribe of course was important. His Shona tribe took upper hand over the Ndebele rivals. It is a story of persecution, sometimes pogrom marked by mass killings, mass burials and a sense of false righteousness. Tribe also came in the guise of part loyalty.  His ZANU PF warred against Joshua Nkomo’s Zanu PF. He always routed them, with fire, blood and money.

    During the last annual LABAAF/CORA, a book festival held in Lagos, Nigeria’s poet laureate Niyi Osundare mused on the rise of tribalism that births such grandiloquent misfits as TRUMP and wave of right-wing populism across Europe and Asia. In my comment, I said we need to save democracy from itself. If we gripe at Mugabe who managed to fatten in power forever, we should not forget he was not the first. Even Hitler, Francisco Franco, the sawdust Caesar Mussolini rose to power on the wave of the vote. Trump was voted in. Duterte, the happy brute of the Philippines, is popular despite senseless killings. Vladimir Putin has become president, prime minister and president and a de fact Russian leader for life on the life of the vote. Mugabe never claimed not to be a democrat. They rig elections using the political machine. We saw it recently in Kenya. We see it all the time in Nigeria. Democracy may be the best form, it wears a false toga. We accept it even if we don’t believe it.

    Men like Mugabe never believe they are tyrants. Neither do their faithful. So, a sense of justice drives them like their opponents. Hence, they have no compunction when they kill and destroy. They are not like the Satan in Paradise Lost who says, “All good to me is lost, Evil be thou my Good.” Poet John Milton shows that as the subconscious voice while the self is not conscious of this depravity. Mugabe is reported to have gone on hunger strike. Only the just do that. The last great leader who did it was Mahatma Ghandhi and he deployed it to change the country’s mood from bellicose to cosy. Mugabe is suffering from delusion of grandeur, which comes from a false sense of good. But he is no Ghandhi.

    I kept thinking of Shakespeare’s King Lear, the tyrant who loved those who flattered him over the daughter who told him the truth. He died a mad man though thinking himself a saint. Nothing sums up Shakespeare’s best play better than the line: “The prince of darkness is a gentleman.” Mugabe still thinks himself a gentleman.

  • Borno diaries (2)

    Borno diaries (2)

    As I travelled in and around Maiduguri, I could not but ponder on a new book about civilisation. The book, titled The Future is History, abolishes tomorrow. The author, Masha Gessen, does not say Monday will not lead to Tuesday, but that Tuesday will not improve on Monday.

    It brings us the German philosopher Hannah Arendt and, more potently, Friedreich Nietzsche who developed the theory of eternal return. Whatever we do, however fertile our efforts or audacious our innovation or noble our raison d’etre, no progress flashes on the horizon. For all the airplanes, internet, cars, or soft beds or the eternal chug of the electric grid, we shall wake up to have a Trump or a Putin, or an ISIS rampaging a region, or a Boko Haram in a storm of slaughter. We shine, but we are still savages.

    So, as the Northeast tries to wake itself out of a night of bloodshed and ruin, are we sure the future is not the past, the past of hordes raging with new-fangled weapons with plunder, rape and rapine. Or do we see progress that tracks only to the future and does not echo the Biblical, Solomonic line: there is nothing new under the sun?

    I thought about it more as we left a primary school set for commission at a place called Bulunkutu Talakawa. Governor Shettima of Borno was driving, and some young men flocked desperately to the front of the vehicle as security men tried to disperse them. One of the boys, a teenager, tall and athletic, bowed and put his hand in his stomach, signifying hunger.

    As he drove off, he said, “If we don’t take care of these people today, they will take care of us tomorrow.” He had said he planned to abolish the al majiri system, a practice that dates back over a century and started innocuously as a school for Islamic scholars.

    “The condition is not ripe to stop it. That is why I am focusing on education and infrastructure,” he said.

    Not far away, we had seen the Maiduguri Sheraton Hotel. It predated the settlement of the poor and Bulunkutu talakawa. It came into being in the pre-violence Maiduguri when it was an osmosis of investments and social joy. Now, it is in magnificent decay, the building standing high, bruised, discoloured, desolate and a monument to a balmy past. Boko Haram stormed and plundered and left it to the elements.

    But how do you create such dreams without resources? Hence, Gov. Shettima has triggered the beginnings of an industrial park that spans vast acres to tackle the agricultural and manufacturing aspirations of the region and the country at large. An impressive greenhouse complete with power, borehole, ventilation, solar panels, light control is in its advanced stages. Maiduguri had been the conduit for commerce with other parts of Africa, and the Lake Chad water shimmered for profits. I learned that Dangote’s business had lost some of its traction because of Boko Haram activities that shut the to and fro with other countries on the continent from Chad to Niger to even Sudan.

    The green house will revive not only the tomato cultivation and storage but will extend the value chain to the making of purees. Other crops will also open up. Over five thousand persons will find work there. There will also be plastic factory and solar panel plant, etc.

    “Most of the equipment for this park are already on ground,” said Ibrahim Ali, who is in charge of the park. In a testament to foresight, Gov. Shettima bought the equipment long ago because he knew the naira would crash. He never waited for the naira to cascaded from N165 to the depth of 300s to a dollar.

    I could not escape the sight of Bola Tinubu Court named after former Governor of Lagos and Jagaban Borgu. It is a secure, well-furnished 78-apartment affair and it takes care of doctors. It is one of the graces of the Shettima era, as he also pivots to healthcare. I saw a similar example in a proposed nursing quarters converted to NYSC apartments for youth corps doctors and nurses. The place is under armed protection and the youth corps doctors are the best paid in the country, receiving an extra N100,000 and the nurses N50,000. They all looked cheerful when we visited and the governor ascertained that they had all the facilities, including generators, working.

    Most of the major arteries in town are lighted at night, and roads are undergoing renewal and repairs. The story is told of the work of Bishop Hassan Kukah who had secured a philanthropic work for schools in the country from Jorge Alvarez, the founder of mobile carrier Telefonica. Bishop Kukah met with him in Rome after the telecom giant had asked the Pope to point out areas where he could pour his largesse as he had too much money. Kukah took him on and he travelled to Nigeria and offered to help build, in partnership with the Kukah Foundation, 40 primary schools. Ten of such schools are underway in Borno. I thought this was a great example of people who give back to others about whom they know nothing.

    Many of our well-heeled would rather build mansions, many of which rooms will crack from lack of human chatter or shuffling feet. They will find places to hide their money that cannot survive paradise, and wed their wards in hotels of outsized luxury. They die sung but ignoble. Alvarez disinvited himself to that party.

    As Gov Shettima notes, the IDPs on record do not tell the full picture. Many are too proud to live in camps. It means more resources are needed to lift that place, for Borno and for all of us. There are many young who did not join Boko Haram. We have to help them not to. Or, as Gov. Shettima warned, “we either help them or run out of the place.”

  • NDDC: A senator’s ignorance

    NDDC: A senator’s ignorance

    A senator should not commit an irony of ignorance before the law. That was the unholy example of Senator Emmanuel Paulker. Wrapped up with the politics of succession, he did not understand the meaning of cessation. Hence, he called for the Federal Government to dissolve the NDDC board on the grounds that it was a continuation of the Henshaw era.

    The law, as the attorney general explained it, shows that continuation can continue only on the grounds of bankruptcy, suspension, conviction, unsound mind, misconduct and resignation. None of these infect the new board with Ndoma Egba and Nsima Ekere.

    In his controversial novel, Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie started with the lines: “To be born again, first you have to die.” So true. Senator Paulker thought the Ndoma Egba and Nsima Ekere board was born again, and a continuation of a former life. Hence, he has failed to distinguish between succession and cessation. When a board is constituted, according to the NDDC Act, it has fresh blood, fresh persons and fresh tenure, as it is now. Attorney General Malami got it right when he noted that, “there has to be fresh composition of the board for a fresh term of four years.” That is what it is with the new board, and Senator Paulker can only be urged to exercise patience until the next tenure. It is what we call a fait accompli.

    The good Lord said, “except a corn of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it abides alone. When it dies, it brings forth much fruit.” The present board is a corn that abides alone because it is not time for it to fall. When its four years run their course, the corn can fall and yield another tenure that Senator Paulker is pining for. Patience, brother Paulker. And knowledge to understand that to succeed and to cease have to be well-defined. Senator Paulker, can we now have a cessation of hostilities?

  • Borno diaries (1)

    Borno diaries (1)

    When the plane landed in Abuja, I thought I would proceed alone. Maybe not alone. With a sprinkling of humans, four or five, who were on the flight with me from Lagos. As the air hostesses cleaned up the seats and floor, the whole interior felt like a ghost room, but perfumed, upholstered, lighted. I and the few other passengers who remained were like interlopers in a conclave of spirits.

    I remembered what a co-passenger sitting beside me remarked when I told him I was not disembarking.

    “I am going to Maiduguri,” I announced.

    His remark was wordless. A sigh. As he rose to leave, his tongue came back to him and said he left the city in 2000 and had never returned.

    Consolation came when head after head, torso after torso filled the aircraft aisle. Goodbye ghosts, welcome flesh and blood. And human chatter. Within twenty minutes, the seats were all but occupied. We were set to taxi to where many in the south and outside the northeast have avoided like a plague the devil leased to earth. The aircraft bobbed into the air and in another hour, we descended on Maiduguri, my first ever foray in that city. When a little boy, we had a family friend, who was like an auntie, who had lived almost all her life in the city before relocating south. We used to call her Sister Maiduguri.

    As I disembarked into the sultry city, my head bubbled with reports and pictures and legends about Borno. Boko haram in clear-eyed terror, babies without parents, widows, dilapidated infrastructure, deserted streets, markets in retreats, soldiers on high alert. Fear, blood, the augury of Armageddon.

    It did not take long to erase my anxiety. I looked at the eyes and body language of people around the airport. No self-awareness about safety, no furtive looks, no avoidance of touch, or shrinking from a straggle of people. My luggage came to me and the car rode into town. It was a Sunday. I asked my guide, “are those kids at school today?”

    “Yes, they are just closing,” he said, no rebuke in his eyes. Boys and girls walked alone, in twos, in groups. They were heading home from school. It was the main artery of the city. Lining both sides of the road were shops, offices, homes, including an estate I would visit with the Borno State Governor, Kashim Shettima, in a few hours.

    But once I met my host, Gov. Shettima, who was driving his car himself in a convoy, we set off to my pet curiosity: schools. Our first visit was at the Yerwa Government Girls Secondary School. The girls knew he was coming. As soon as the gates flung open, a chant exploded into the air: “Baba oyoyo, baba oyoyo.” The girls, all swathed in hijabs, in their hundreds splashed around the vehicles and security had to plough a path for the governor. He had brought some supplies, food and drinks, for the school. He met with the head prefect, Aisha Alhaji Ibrahim, and wanted to ascertain that meals came to the students. He gave his direct phone number to the ward and asked her to convey to him update. He warned the staff not to interfere with her on pains of official repercussion.

    It is a boarding school, but beside the gate 60 classrooms were under construction to be fitted with air-conditioners and tiled floors. It is one of the evidence of a city and state on the rebound after years of rapine and dislocation from the militants called Boko Haram.

    I reflected as we left the school full of ecstatic young females what happened just a few years ago. Then Governor Shettima had lamented how even the Maiduguri Airport was like a minefield, where the hoodlums bested our soldiers and the ragtag army had hoisted its flags in about two-thirds of the state. That was the Jonathan era. Enter Muhammadu Buhari, and the army has pounded the terror band back to the forest. The city, not completely immune from the irrational work of the suicide bomber, has enjoyed far-reaching relief that it can put up and secure a place like Yerwa Government Girls Secondary Schools.

    Other secondary schools like this are erupting all over the state. The other that caught my fancy has not yet been named.

    “We are trying to get either German Chancellor Angela Merkel or Michelle Obama to come and commission it when it is ready,” said Governor Shettima. Whoever comes will have it named after her. It’s another girls’ schools. Walking through the premises brought to mind the tragedy of the Chibok girls. The classrooms are being fortified with bullet-proof doors and windows. Inside the air-conditioners will be supported by ceiling fans. The hotels are at advanced state of construction including the hostels, dining block and kitchen, all bullet-proofed. Gov. Shettima wants it ready for inauguration in January for 1,300 students.

    Primary schools also are getting attention. In one of the poorest areas of the city, a school was ready for inauguration. Located in an area called Bulunkutu Talakawa, it is a project of partnership with SUBEB as well as corporate concerns like SEC and even Oando. It has a capacity for 300 pupils but will take off with 210, 90 for nursery and 270 for primary. Setting up the school is one thing, rallying the young in the area to attend is another. All facilities are ready, including chalkboards, furniture, teachers, toilets. Gov. Shettima has made available 100 bags of rice, beans and cooking oil available for feeding.

    While undertaking his pre-inauguration inspection, he observed that the walls were not high enough and not even barbed. Criminals could scale to plunder and murder. So, he ordered crowing the walls with barb wires as pre-condition for take-off. As we drove out of the school, a huge number of lads and girls lined the street. Even the school did not have the capacity to cater for the needs of the area. It is called Bulunkutu Talakawa because it is the hovel of the poor. Another area is called Bulunkuta Abuja where the relatively comfortable live. Along the road, the governor’s fears were confirmed with idle young men sitting  on high walls not far from the school.

    Not far away was a primary school the Vice President, Yemi Osinbajo, had supported with all the facilities of a modern education for a school for orphans. It is walled in, with sober painting, secure doors and windows. In another part of the city, a CBN complex has been acquired by the state government and converted into over 400 units of flats, both two and three bedrooms. Occupants must adopt an orphan as condition. Schools are under way on an adjoining land to cater to the estate.

    The IDPs are being accommodated in this schools as way to bring back a city and prostrate people back to life.

  • Ayomike: A man for all seasons

    Ayomike: A man for all seasons

    I had planned privately to surprise him with a visit in Warri. I had never met him in person. On phone we spoke so regularly it seemed we had even hugged. There had been no tactile contact between me and Johnson Oritsegbubemi Sunday Ayomike. When news came that he passed, I was more than heartbroken. I lost a father. When he turned 90 in April, I asked him how he felt.

    He said, “my body is weak, but my mind is very active.” He was a man of the mind. I recall our many intellectual engagements, whether about a derailing political elite, the decline of debate, the materialism of a decaying generation, or a column he read, or the failure of our people to appreciate the study and sublime compulsion of history, he was always high on the marks.

    As an author, he sent me several books, those he wrote and classics he had read. He was immersed in Itsekiri history, and he was sensitive to what German philosopher Nietzsche called the “theory of eternal return,” how history comes when we think we have forgotten it. I cannot forget his prelude to any important point during our phone dialogues, “look, Sam…” and he would go off from idea to idea. As The Nation newspaper editorial characterised him, he was a renaissance man, an author, administrator, teacher, raconteur, activist, peacemaker, curator, historian. My former teacher, Professor Femi Omosini, who taught me the renaissance years, described Leonardo Dan Vinci, as “a universal man of the renaissance, a jack of all trade and master of many.” Ayomike was no Dan Vinci, he was our own JOS, our own renaissance man, who combined ethnic fidelity with nationalist elan. We don’t have men like him anymore. O de ju ma.

  • Paideia

    Paideia

    Nestled in one of the high-flown suburbs of Lagos, The Civic Centre was a place for a sober event. Not often do ex-classmates amass big names to a hall to ponder the dynamic of secondary education in Nigeria. Especially at a time like this when few pay attention to our schools. Rather, everyone who can afford it wants their wards out of the county.

    It was the old boys of Government College, Ughelli, the September 1973 set, who organised it. I am an old boy of that set, and we sat together early in the year to work out a podium for a fest of ideas. We had it October 26. The chairperson was a well-known intellectual, exponent of mathematics and the first female vice chancellor in Nigeria, Professor Grace Alele-Williams. Another distinguished female, former teacher and educationist Senator Oluremi Tinubu, also starred in the event. From the north was one of the brightest minds anywhere, Governor Kashim Shetima of Borno State. Another well-honed personage, the charismatic Governor Seriake Dickson of Bayelsa State. Lagos State Governor Akinwunmi Ambode was represented by his special adviser on education, Obafela Bank-Olemoh. The chairman of the Nigeria Football Federation, Amaju Pinnick, came around as well. The JAMB Registrar Professor Ishaq Oloyede missed the event but distinguished it with a representative Professor Afeez Oladosu.

    We had a good range, and the audience enjoyed each speaker. Professor Alele-Williams surprised me when she showed up, and she observed it when she materialised at the venue. She had doubted she would make it because of the imperative of countervailing event. But there she was. And she kicked off the event with engaging speech about the decay of education and she spoke on the virtue of not only education quality but the essence of gender sensitivity. Setting of the panel discussion was Governor Dickson, who spiced his speech with jibe at GCU for not granting him admission he applied. But his heart was still with the school. He spoke about grassroots education and his speech showed how he was retrieving the state from the backwaters to the modern ways. He emphasised the value of secondary education and reeled out what he had done with the Ijaw Academy as well as his being the first governor to install boarding school in the state. He was challenged when he became governor as to where he would get the funding for boarding schools. “Now in Bayelsa, we have almost 15 model boarding schools.” About 3000 students are now on government scholarships.

    Borno State Governor Shettima stunned everyone with his delivery. Levitating his talk with philosophy, statistics and anecdote. A politician with the fastest rising profile in the country, he had impressed Nigerians with his courage and aplomb in the nasty days of Boko Haram. Many saw at the colloquium that it was no hollow courage. Deep intellectual engagement and moral vision were on display that day from his lips. With clear-eyed diction and eloquence, he spoke of efforts he was making to turn Borno around in the wake of militant depredations, a thing I have personally witnessed and will document soon on this page. He spoke on the girl child but warned that if we do not take care of the youths today they will take care of us tomorrow.

    Senator Tinubu gave a pungent delivery about gender education. Speaking against the background as a former teacher, organiser of children and mobiliser for generational good, she warned about taking care of what we imbue the young with. She spoke with heart and mind to a rapturous audience. Pinnick draped the air with talk on sports and Prof. Oladosu who represented Prof. Oloyede spoke on standards.

    Gov. Ambode lamented the decline, which he chalked up to lack of funding. He noted that funding was not adequate, but innovative ideas. Code Lagos launched recently is one of such innovative ideas to vault students to global standards and students in the state will learn how to code in three years.

    From all that happened it was clear what we wanted. As we all know, education is not just about what we ingest from textbooks. But it counts. It is not just what we hear from the thespian fervour of our great teachers. We cannot discount that.

    It is not only about the strict regimen in the routine glory of a school day from dawn to dusk, including cleaning our bed spaces, ironing our uniforms, observing prep hours, etc. But we have to tally these into it as well.

    It is about all these. The lucubration, the punishments, the praises for a great essay in class, a smooth crack at a mathematical puzzle, a score at the football field, etc.

    This is education of the mind, body, and spirit, a light that lights everywhere. That creates what the Greeks designated as Paideia, which entails the cultural education that gives birth to a model citizen, what the British call a gentleman in a noble sense, or the American with a picture shorn of feudal overhang. In Nigerian, the closest I can associate with it is what the Yoruba call Omoluabi.

    That is the legacy of Government College, Ughelli, to us who have made it. We of the class of September 1973 are proud of this legacy, and whatever we do, whether we soar in the high places of the world or not, we know that we carry in us a sweet burden to do good to this society. And that is why we chose the topic for the Colloquium, Raising a Wise Generation.

    Unmistakably present was the poet and GCU old boy John P. Clark. Governor Shettima reminded us of his books, including America their America, Ozidi and Song of a Goat. Also his brother, another old boy Ambassador B. A. Clark materialised.

    GCU was as of 2003 a shadow of its old glory. A boarding school system had collapsed into day school, and weeds garlanded the landscape darkly. The classrooms blocks lost colour, and teachers were low-grade. Under the leadership of the late Gamaliel Onosode, who was the president of the old boys, it was decided to start work on the school. We needed N350 million to revive a school of one mile square and bigger than most universities, with nine halls of residence, four standard football fields, two hockey fields, an athletics field,  two lawn tennis courts, etc. The old boys have raised over N500 million.

    We are still working. Boarding is back, buildings restored and still more work to do. My class has set out to build a tech centre for modern technology from technical drawing, to metal work, to wood work, to software and hardware, computer skills, programming, etc. Gov. Shettima wondered why Nigerians were still focused on mundane matters when the world was under the spell of nanotechnology, artificial intelligence, robotics, etc.

    What we are doing at GCU should be an eye-opener to all. Our great schools are in decline. Was it not a disgrace that Queens College was grappling with deaths from water? As senator Tinubu said, education is not for government alone. GCU old boys are asking to be part of governing council. If we are to save the secondary school, we need to follow the model of GCU. Government College Umuahia that gave us the great Achebe is doing same.

  • Don’t bother OVI

    Don’t bother OVI

    Ethnic entrepreneur Nnamdi Kanu came on the news last week for the wrong reason. Some mischief makers are asking Abia State Governor Okezie V. Ikpeazu to fish him out. When did Kanu ever become the problem of the state governor? Was it not the Operation Python Dance that had responsibility over the renegade? Was that not the issue of Abuja and the federal centre?

    When Kanu holed himself up in a false grandeur of Biafra leader, no one pointed an accusing finger at the State governor because he had nothing to do with it. If the man escaped, what were the soldiers and security agents doing? The real question should be, what did the security operatives know? Or did they not have their eyes on him? if so, who is to blame? They should let Gov. Ikpeazu do his job as Nigeria’s apostle of local content, focusing on how we can make a living and prosper by indigenising our taste through enterprise.

  • When silence means contempt

    When silence means contempt

    The president has always seen silence as a mark of dignity in a time of crisis. When he opens his mouth eventually, he spews out venom that neither gives him nor the office he occupies any form of dignity.

    Tall, gaunt, lean of face with a straight stare and loping strides, his smile comes across more like a lickspittle than a royal. Yet, behind that simpering exterior is a granite heart. However, little cunning or high thinking dresses up his hearty resolves. So, in the final analysis, what we have is not the Buhari of nobility but a pretension to the high moral act. Sometimes that façade confronts us in the form of silence.

    Occasionally he does speak. When he breaks his silence, he ruptures not only peace but logic. As I have noted in the past, Buhari’s soul is a battle between the martial impulses of his breeding and the entitlement of his ambience as a Fulani hierarch. And then there is a third. He has managed, since his ouster from power as head of state, to cultivate the talakawa. So, he sees himself as a sort of royal with a common touch. He is simultaneously on top and at the bottom, a prince and pauper, a head and herdsman, at once erupting from the floor and swooping down from heaven.

    How does such a man operate in a democracy? Well, unless democracy tames him, he will see it as his right to tame democracy. That is the war going on with the man we elected president. His silence on the N9 trillion scandal only portrays his contempt for institutions and persons who want to tame him like colt to the discipline and humility of popular persuasion. If democracy is about the triumph of popular persuasion over collective will, Buhari is bending to the side of the will. As French philosopher Jean Jacque Rousseau has argued, collective will often cloaks despotic arrogance. Robespierre and Danton, even Napoleon, were culprits.

    As a soldier Buhari works with diktat. As a royal, he sees the world from the hill top. As a talakawa patron, he gives them love in his own light. In return, they give him worship. Democracy therefore will work for him the way he operates with the talakawa. He expects us to bow down to him. He is the king of our democracy. He abides the contradiction.  Men like Churchill or General Dwight Eisenhower had high-born sensibilities, but hey were cowed by the institutions of democracy. Buhari acts otherwise. The thing is that Buhari is not high-born, he has acquired the streak by age and his rise in the military and social graces of the land. When you expect to give, it means you define the love in your own image. The targets of your love only do one thing: worship you.

    What we have is the making of the Aristotelian tragic flaw. Like Sophocles’ Oedipus and Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Buhari’s flaw is hubris.  That explains why his speeches and comments in times of crisis tend to be condescending.

    We witnessed it early in his tenure when he would not set up a cabinet. Or when his wife rattled him, or when he reacted to the scandal around his army chief, or when recently he fouled the air when he returned from his medical leave and came down in primitive anger against the Southeast. There are some storms he has never found worthy of his tongue. Chief among them is the poisonous lop-sidedness of his appointments. He is still mum on Babachir Lawal and Ayo Oke, and even the rumbles among his principal officers in the presidency. Some jump out of the shadows. Like his request to a World Bank chief that the institution should focus work on the north.

    This perhaps explains why he has been frozen from the neck up in spite of the uproar over his NNPC appointments. So, following from that, why would we expect him to say something about the new tempest on Nigeria’s oil. All he did was retreat to is familiar terrain on the N9 trillion ambush of our national treasure.

    Now, he may see his silence has golden, as a way of standing above the rolling waters, of asserting his rectitude. But that could be so if he has come out with a line of wisdom through his lieutenants. His lieutenants have actually been quiet, too. It was all left in the hands of the culprit-in-chief to hand over the boil to his appointee, Maikanti Baru.

    If his explanations had found traction in reason, we could have pardoned the president. We could say, well, it was all a case of mistaking a mouse for an elephant. But the big elephant in the room has remained one man: Muhammadu Buhari.

    He acts as though it is mere matter. It will pass over, his image as a man of purity will shield him, so he does not have to be above board.

    After all, some of his followers have been treating him as a god. They swear by him, they risk cholera by drinking water on dirt roads, they worship head on the ground as though on prayer ground. So how can he submit to mere mortals to explain.

    He does not need to explain when Baru says he sought permission from him (Buhari) to make such a consequential decision. He does not need to react when he bypasses the man he appointed to the position as board chairman of the NNPC. He does not see it fit that he set up a board that the NNPC Act invests with powers and a mere mortal he puts there as GMD subverts their authority and boasts about it in Buhari’s name. Does he not know that as president, the only person to whom he can hand over authority is a minister or vice president?

    The constitution says so. Or does he read the constitution? If he cannot delegate to himself since he is oil minister, he automatically hands over to his minister of state. By bypassing that, he has violated due process. And he does not want to talk about it? By the way, is it damning to note that these contracts were purportedly signed when he was on medical leave? He himself had said his men brought him files to sign in London. If he did not sign Baru’s, did he give him a nod. If he did, he violated the oath of office, and is that not enough for him to resign, or for impeachment proceedings to begin?

    Does he not know that matters like this should involve the BPP? Did he not hear the voice of Oby Ezekwesili on that? Did he not hear his GMD draw false equivalences by saying that Kachikwu did the same thing, therefore there was nothing wrong? Is that the way to fight corruption?

    If a man like Baru can play fast and loose with our endowment as a people, where do we place those who are faithful like Dakuku Peterside in NIMASA and Professor Ishaq Oloyede at JAMB. The president was quick to order the probe of the predecessors and rightly so. But he is easy on the humongous erring of his “man” Baru. They say it is not cash contract, and so not contract “as such.” Abi dem think say we be mumu?

    As far as this column is concerned, unless Buhari reviews and annuls the contracts, his war on corruption is melodious lie, an exercise in hypocritical grandstanding. He is therefore hiding in silence. The silence is roaring, and our ears are full with its every decibel.

  • Et tu Jonat

    Et tu Jonat

    Ibe Kachukwu rocked the chair of his boss last week. The chair is not yet at anchor over his NNPC expose. It came like the dossier of betrayal. But while most Nigerians set eyes on the stark irony of a man of integrity facing the biggest allegation of fraud in Nigeria’s history, my mind went to three things. First to the second biggest fraud scandal in Nigerian history, which was also associated with Muhammadu Buhari. It was the N2.8 billion fraud, which in today’s money comes close to N9 trillion that his appointee, Maikanti Baru, allegedly freeloaded and crafted into a raft of bone-headed contracts.

    The second thing that came to mind is that elections have consequences because campaigns will always haunt us as voters. The third leads to the Otuoke chieftain, the serpentine Goodluck Ebele Jonathan. It was Jonathan who gave us Buhari, and if we weep today, let us go to where the rain started to beat us. It turned from drizzle into downpour. This is about betrayal, and how a man who gained the trust of a country became the ultimate turncoat.

    The man who once claimed a pan-Nigerian mandate became the pan-Nigerian Judas. This column will therefore look at the psychology of the man who made Buhari possible. I shall wait till next week before full comments on the N9 trillion scandal in the hope that the president will have something to say for himself. Kachukwu’s has launched a tomahawk missile at his integrity and he better have a nuclear shield. In any civilised clime, he should at least have uttered a preliminary statement, either confirming or denying Kachukwu’s report that Baru signed all those contracts with his approval. That was the cardinal sentence of the epistolary episode. It requires no investigation. He should know if he approved or did not, unless he claims that his ill-health subdued his memory. The narrative is more about him than his implant at the head of Nigeria’s honey pot.

    If Jonathan played Judas to his country, it should be no surprise that he had a habit of doing so to people who trusted him. But other than the nation he betrayed, he let down his region. The Niger Delta is Nigeria’s ware earth. He did little to elevate a area racked with militancy, massive poverty, environmental decay, educational drift and health hazards. I told my fellow Niger Deltans that Jonathan was not the one we needed to represent us. But sentiment overtook good sense, and the story is now in the history books.

    When he returned to Bayelsa after the Buhari Shellacking, he told a crowd in Yenagoa that he did not expect a rousing welcome. He said he thought “the people would stone me because I know I didn’t do much for you.”

    He turned into a taste of ashes the prophetic hope of Chief Awolowo when the sage said, “I look forward to the day, not in the far distant future when an in Jaw would be president of our republic or a vice or vice versa.” The top desire of many in the region was the construction of the east-west road. He left it fallow, a long, sprawling, treacherous stretch, lurking, serpentine and deadly, just like his psyche.

    He betrayed a region, and then he betrayed humans who made it happen for him. In that sense, he had something in common with the Owu chief, who put him there. We witnessed the last days of Yar’Adua. Obj came out swinging his rhetoric in Jonathan’s favour. The Owu chief gave birth to Yar’Adua, and in the uncertain days of the ex-president’s ill-health, Obj made it known he was ready to bury Umoru. Jonathan smacked his lips in the shadows, waiting to cruise to the throne. He eventually did, and then he played Brutus. People like Jonathan and Obasanjo are guilty of what psychologists call a fear of gratitude. They are afraid to say thank you because it would diminish them and take away from the swagger of their majesty.

    The same thing is tormenting the North Korean leader. The portly tyrant has lined up for death all those who knew him in his diaper days, including his uncle he executed. A Roman leader who rose from slave eliminated all those who knew him in his plebeian years. So, it was in character for Jonathan to go after the Owu chief and humiliate him. He even went as far as defanging him in his lair, Ogun State. He pulled the rug of his political structure and handed it to his foe, Buruji Kashamu. He also parried him after parleying with him to nominate Muraina Ajibola as speaker of the House of Representatives. He stunned OBJ by picking Mulikat Adeola. Other casualties were Gbenga Daniel and his daughter, Iyabo.

    Did he not betray Timipre Sylva? In this narrative of Bayelsa PDP, it was more of the betrayal of his former governor colleagues who sent quite of few emissaries of peace and reconciliation to the former president. He was cajoled and begged to let Sylva be. He would agree in an air of felicity and then turn back to his default Judas kiss.

    Recently some have wondered why the present Bayelsa State governor, Seriake Dickson, has barbed him and left him bloodied on the public square. Few forget that he never really wanted Dickson to succeed Sylva. He had another candidate who never made it. That explains why he never really embraced Dickson when he became governor. His wife, patience, publicly humiliated Dickson at public events, once shunning him in protocol in public. The Bayelsa governor showed extreme tolerance while Jonathan was president because he did not want to show a crack in the house while a fellow Ijaw man was president. I learnt that, in the Governors Forum election that deflated Jang, Dickson’s vote may have gone for Jang but his heart did not, because he did not want a public row on Jonathan’s home turf. Loyalty tests principles.

    One of the heartfelt betrayals for this author was the humiliation of the late Dora Akunyili. The woman set the template with a memo for the now famous Doctrine of Necessity that calmed subversive elements in the country and allowed Jonathan to sail to Aso Rock. He never saw the woman after he became Nigeria’s leader and Akunyili was treated with cold shoulder and denied access to Jonathan before she died.

    “The saddest thing about betrayal,” says an anonymous writer, “is that it never comes from enemies.” That was Jonathan. There is a reason Caesar says to Brutus, Et tu Brute. Not so much its meaning but that he says it in the native language. You too Brutus! But Shakespeare was kind to Caesar, who also stabbed Pompey, his boss, in the back. With betrayal, “there is no art to find the mind’s construction in the face. He was a man in whom I had an absolute trust.” That was Shakespeare in Macbeth, another turncoat tale.

    Sometimes betrayal is grand, about a man waking up to find out he had believed a lie, a bad leader, a quisling. Like in The Remains of The Day, a novel by the latest literature Nobel Laureate, Kazuo Ishiguro. A butler learns late in life he had aped his master to endorse the wrong philosophy like Nazism. On a personal level, he failed who should have been the love of his life.

    Like the butler, GEJ betrayed both country and friends. He also betrayed his birth region. When such things happen, people look elsewhere for succour. Buhari came along with the lure of integrity. Have we made a mistake on that? The N9 trillion scandal must not be left to go the way of other scandals. If it is the biggest scandal, it should not be the biggest cover-up.