Category: Sam Omatseye

  • Julia and her sons

    Julia and her sons

     In his story in The Nation on Sunday, Olatunji Ololade writes a story about Hurti, one of the villages that saw plunder and death from their neighbours who are not Nigerians.

    And I was drawn by the story of Julia.

    A mother of two, she could not take his children with her when she ran to safety. She might have chosen her life instead of her own offspring.

    From the bush, she looked at her home while the goons slaughtered both children.

    “There lay her sons, still and scorched, flies buzzing over their carcasses…” writes Ololade of Julia taking inventory of the butchery of her family.

    This is the sort of choice that a parent should never make.

    That is what these marauders have wrought in Plateau.

    No one can justify this. Shall we blame the mother for staying alive?

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    Now, what kind of maternal conscience will be left of her?

    Should she have died with her kids? Shouldn’t she have died with her kids?

    This is what is called Sophie’s Choice, based on William Styron’s novel of that title.

     It’s a story of a mother who must decide which of her kids she must surrender to the Nazis and which one she should keep. If there was no holocaust, the choice would not come. In the novel, the question is asked, where was God?

    And response is, where was man? Styron poses this question, but it was first propounded in Harper Lee’s novel, To kill A Mocking Bird.

    The implication is that if God is in man, why is man – all of us – failing God and ourselves?

  • One party hysteria

    One party hysteria

    It was a month of realignment. A quake, or just the beginning of it.

    A month when a party and its bigwigs failed and fell.

    Poet T.S. Eliot would have a take on the month of April in Nigeria.

    He called it the cruelest month in a poem he called The Wasteland.

    For the APC, it was a plum hour, a harvest.

    But for those who disavowed the Delta State transplant of the PDP to APC, it was a quake.

    They damned the defectors as rakes in public.

    In private, they quail. To borrow from Eliot, they may even call it a murder in the cathedral, since they see the move as corrupting the holy of holies of our politics.

    The Sheriff of Delta calls it not just a move but a movement.

    The same people who, a few weeks earlier, boasted with rhapsodies about the virtue of coalition.

     The same people who held a meeting of fiasco in Ibadan about turning PDP into a formidable opposition.  They wanted to stretch the umbrella into a tent.

    They wanted to do a copycat of the APC and how it embraced others to dethrone the PDP.

    Suddenly, it is a sin to embrace, and have a bearhug with others.

    To make a big tent is a threat to democracy.

     It is the beginning of the end of the republic. It is the sign that Tinubu is an emperor, or the seeds of an imperial presidency.

    What aches this essayist is the convenient hypocrisy of it all.

     Also, the intentional blindness of commentators who have woken up with a loss of memory. They also have forgotten the mechanics of politics. They have made opposition into a sacred vestry that brooks no blood of fowl from the child of iniquity.

    When they bond, it is bound to be right. When others do, it is a taboo.

    Is politics not a game of influence? Is it not an enterprise of power? Is it not a platform for the aggregation of interests, and the flowering of dialogues and streamlining cacophonies into voices of conquests?

    If APC did it right with the Sheriff, why are they complaining? The hypocrisy is the claim that APC was doing what had never been done before, What history? Many need to read their history books. PDP is no Roman history. Were we not here when it controlled 28 states? Who spoke of a one-party state then. APC controls 23 states and so Tinubu is crushing the opposition!

    It is not the job of the ruling party to feel sorry for an opposition. It is not in the DNA of democracy to ask parties to share meals in equal measure. You take what you can so long as you do not break the law. It is Hobbesian licence of democracy.

    Some have asserted that it was a blackmail on the PDP in Delta State? Some have even asserted that it was because of Okowa? Okowa is not a hectoring former governor. It is not possible for one man to strong-arm the party in that manner.

     The governor had, before the Okowa love affair with the EFCC, given a hint with his sympathy for the president and Tinubu’s support for his administration in Delta State.

    When we have no answer, we create a question. That is the excuse. Let us not forget that coalitions did not begin with this republic. Did we not have it in the First Republic? Did we not have it in the Second Republic? Why shall we become sinners if we do it in this Republic?

    But it was not so bad until the wrong people do it.

    It is only good when we do it. It is like the West that believes no one should have nuclear options but themselves.

    In the First Republic, one of the big advocates of coalition was the icon of the progressives himself: Chief Obafemi Awolowo.

    He wanted a coalition to win, but he just did not possess the cunning and opportunity to pull it off.

     Was Awo not the soul behind the United Progressive Grand Alliance )UPGA) and it comprised Awo’s Action Group (AG), Zik’s National Council of Nigerian Citizens (NCNC), Aminu Kano’s Northern Elements Progressive Union (NEPU) and Joseph Tarka’s United Middle Belt Congress (UMBC).

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    The other was Nigeria National Alliance (NNA) that combined the renegade Akintola’s Nigeria National Democratic Party (NNDP) with Balewa’s Northern People’s Congress (NPC).

    Was it not in the First Republic that Awo at the electoral deadlock called Zik to blend with the AG with the offer to become prime minister and he would serve as finance minister? Awo, unlike how he is made to look, was not always a political stiff neck. He had instances of strategic flexibilities.

    In the Second Republic, Awo wanted to fight Shagari and his National Party of Nigeria (NPN), and he went into an alliance to form the Progressive Parties Alliance (PPA) that included the Unity Party of Nigeria (UPN) under Awo, the Nigeria People’s Party (NPP) under Zik, the People’s Redemption Party (PRP) under Aminu Kano and Great Nigerian People’s Party (GNPP) under Ibrahim Waziri of the “politics without bitterness” fame.

    The coalition ran upon the rock, but we cannot blame Awo for not trying, and we cannot say Awo was averse to pragmatism.

    So, those who twirl ideological purity about the Awo cast him as a naïve and doctrinaire straitjacket.

    Ideological purity is a myth. Not even the Marxist in the heydays could exercise it without consequence.

     Lenin easily backtracked and gave Russia its New Economic Policy, mixing Marx with Adam Smith. Mao tried with his cultural revolution until the system collapsed under the compulsion of the laissez-faire impulse of which China’s Xi is a new apostle facing down the Americans.

     Meanwhile, ideologues like Pol Pot, who saw Mao as model ruined their country in blood.

    Today, conservatism has put on a new look under Trump, while the  family Bush and even their favoured icon Reagan are now anachronisms.

    To be Republican was to be hawk in the world.

    Today, they recoil. Ditto the Brits. Conservatives of the past would have loved to trade with Europe.

    They doomed England to Brexit. Conservative philosophers like Hayek, Willam F. Buckley and Edmund Burke are being racked, rewritten and updated before our very eyes with tribal flavours.

    If any party beats another with great majority, it is called a landslide. Landslide is democracy’s language. So, it is no autocracy. If the other beats you, dust up your coat and get ready for a rematch.

    That is the character of democracy.

    The complainants are acting like sore losers even before the game begins. They are shouting foul because they sniff not just a defeat but a humiliation. They have seen a compass error in their flight.

    For the so-called detached pundits, they have to look back and look into their books on the philosophy of politics.

     I don’t want to recommend books.

    That will be condescending. T.S. Eliot in The Wasteland also mused about “mixing memory with desire.”

    But theirs is a desire without memory. When there is no memory, there cannot be memorials.

    Without it, how can we go forward? It means a lack of what is call historical consciousness.

    Let not envy rid us of our power to remember.

     Let’s replace hysteria with history.

  • Not a defection

    Not a defection

    Rumours abounded, but they came across as ill-humour. Someone was playing mischief with the Sheriff. In the time of Abiola Ajimobi as Oyo State helmsman, his fellow citizens minted the term Koseleri for him. It meant it has never happened before. He was the first to serve two terms in the saddle.  That was the humour some saw as dark and in the clouds for the Sheriff of Delta State.

    How could Delta State ever veer from its course since 1999? They heard nothing from Governor Sheriff Oborevwori. No party wheel horse squealed. When a party mensch’s daughter named Ibori stepped across to the APC, the hint came as a wink. But few clinked glasses even in the APC. Then came Ned Nwoko, the sweet-heartened lawmaker. Yet, the earth did not quake. Even if they had a hint, and even a wink of what was to come, they believed these were lightweights in the ring.

    Delta was fortress  PDP. Especially in the local governments and state house of Assembly. Of course, it all started from the top throne of governor. So, no one saw it coming. Not many thought it possible. Even a soothsayer would be booed as a phony, a pastor a false prophet. The evidence was only too visible. Was it?

    If anybody followed the events of the past few years, we would have seen it. Governor Sheriff is not one to blab. He had said that his people should support the president because the president was a stalwart behind his work for the state. For sure, Sheriff is one of the consequential governors today, whether in the area of infrastructure, education or health care, he is making hearts throb with his imprimatur.

    Other governors had moved before him at various times. Tambuwal from APC. Umahi from PDP. Ayade to APC.  But no one in this republic shook the roofs. They were throbs. This was an earthquake. Enter Governor. Enter former governor. Enter deputy governor. National and state lawmaker all, local government chairmen all, state apparatchik all. It was not a defection. It was a transplant. a change of crown on the same head. Exit doubt.

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    It was like the formation of the Anglican Church. It was the same priests, the same church pews and altars, the same church bureaucracy, the same God, but different worship, different head of state, king Henry VIII. A video trended online with state members singing “on your mandate,” the signature rhythm of Tinubu loyalty.

    Usually, people defect when they feel their party is sick. Apart from the good working relations with President Tinubu, this was a defection to avoid an infection. Not long ago, two PDP men played agbero boys in Asaba, almost coming to blows. Things are coming apart, the centre not holding. Courts left them to their devious devices, governors at war with a disarticulated corps of leaders. Remaining could give Delta the bug. Delta PDP was whole, hale and hearty. The heart of the PDP at the centre was troubled, beating so hard and fast that all could hear it sink, skip and syncopate. Was its heart beating to death because its self-immolating leaders were beating up on themselves into oblivion?

    The Sheriff and his men do not want to be like the victim of a paedophile, like the searing novel My Heavenly favorite by Dutch writer Lucas Rijneveld or the International Booker Prize novel Kairos by German writer Jenny Erpenbeck. But the Sheriff acted like Richard Nixon’s definition of a leader in his The Memoirs of Richard Nixon. He said a leader is a man who can not only take tough decisions but can carry his associates with him along those tough decisions. This is a discomfort of a day for all its PDP leaders, from Damagum’s regret to Atiku’s lament.

    Defectors tend to come with baggage, with bowl in hand, cringing and solicitous. This transplant was an infusion of blood, a defection with a swagger.

    For the PDP, it is an end of hubris. Atiku, who is no stranger to the life of the tortured traveler from party to travel, should not be complaining. He moaned about sipping tea, a thing he has done as a chieftain in PDM, PDP, ACN,  APC and back to PDP. He is the oldest defector alive, and its chief dramatist.

    The argument is gaining momentum in some circles that such defections to the ruling party casts the APC as  entrenching a one-party state. That is egregious nonsense. One, the country has many parties, even more than most democracies. We are a democracy of a penny-a-party. Many form parties not for power but for pennies.  Party for pockets. Two, one party-states often invoke the idea of clampdowns. This is not the case. This is a case of choice over coercion. It is often a deference to dominance and superior power play rather than suffocation. Three, was it not in this country we heard about a party boasting to sway for 60 years? Four, democracies thrive under the rhythms of rise and fall of political parties. This is not a paean to might of presidential powers, but might of affection. The actions reflect the wizardry of a president, who has displayed a knack for the power game above his peers.

    What the Sheriff has done is to teach everyone how to defect and also how not to defect. We have seen quite a few in recent times. The signal one is the move from the APC of the former Kaduna governor, Nasir El Rufai. While the Sheriff left with an earthquake, El-Rufai left without a whimper. No éclat, no drumrolls, no party for the parting, no dance, no tears. But quiet jubilation. They got rid of him. But it was a parting without sorrow in APC but sorrow for the wayfarer. It was a sojourn without an arrival, a journey without a destination, a troubled destiny. Those he left did not dignify him with a goodbye. Where he went, they asked him to return. No sai sanmu and no maraba. No farewell, no welcome, like T.S. Eliot’s The Journey of the Magi with “voices singing in (his) ears, saying that this was all folly.”

    Some have asserted that it pits the ruling party against the people. This is a spurious position of those who think they own the people. This is presumptuous. It argues that party defection hierarchises politics. But politics has never been different. It is about organization. Without structure, how can you mobilise? Once they try to create structures, they become not the people but a party. It is simplistic thinking to undermine the value of parties. Such debates only admit they have lost the argument.

    Governor Oborevwori has now made history, not only for Delta, but also in political pedagogy, a lesson that demonstrates that to leave is also to win. The beauty of it is that it was a show but not showy, a conquest without confetti.

  • An angel of disobedience

    An angel of disobedience

    Pope Francis reflected the power of God in man and limitations of man in God. He took over like a revolutionary of consent in a conservative stronghold. Many feared he was a bull in a holy of holies, a man who wanted to upturn centuries of faith with murder. He smiled at the gay, nodded to the divorce, washed a black man’s feet in southern Sudan, and stood as a counterpoise of empathy in an age of rightwing populism. Some thought he wanted to shed another blood that Jesus did not. He wanted to shed the church.

    But he was just a tease and a shaker. He teased the liberal, who thought he might reverse abortion, remove dogma on gays, resurrect Henry VIII by endorsing divorce, plant a woman on the pulpit. He teased all that, but achieved none. While at it, though, he nudged the conservative in the words of the Caribbean novelist who wrote, “something startles where I thought I was safest.” He did not murder the cathedral.

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    In the end, he was an angel of disobedience. The Bible says to obey is better than sacrifice. He preferred not to sacrifice the law, but he sacrificed hope. That is what we have in the end. He was not capable of that sort of earthquake. Faith is nothing without its mystery, and when modernity enters the sanctuary, the response is the whip like Jesus in his rage. Modernity threatens mystery, and without mystery the church loses its power. Dostoyevsky in his The Brother Karamazov identified authority, miracle and mystery as the fulcrums of faith. To yield to such secular agitations is to subordinate the raison d’etre of the Bible. Any pope who yields, compromises history. What is church without memory. But he confronted power and made the world leaders uncomfortable, especially on immigration. Trump, who is faithless struggled to affirm his Christian loyalty.

    If Pope Francis’ legacy is intangible, Pope John Paul II broke royal backbones. The pontiff who survived an assassination, has been credited with the soft power that fell communism. Each time he visited a country, the leader fell. He did it to Poland, Chile, Haiti, Paraguay and he did not blush to condemn the leaders. He was like Sunny Ade’s song, Ologini tide o/ ekute paramo -the cat has arrived, the rat should take cover. The rats of tyranny fell before the cat under the spell of the big cat, the lion of the tribe of Judah. The dictators, especially a man like Chile’s Pinochet, might have invoked the words of Henry II over a pesky Priest Thomas Becket, “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?” Not long after, Becket breathed his last. That was the age of savagery. We may just be more refined in our savagery these days of hounding immigrants in the fashion of Hitler’s squad. We have had good and bad popes. My teacher at Ife, Professor Femi Omosini, crooned in class about some medieval popes: “the pope became extremely worldly. He wined and dined with secular authorities and bargained openly for the expansion of the papal territory.” Popes are products of their times, sometimes in deference or defiance of the holy spirit.

  • Who owns the land?

    Who owns the land?

    When the harvest of blood and innocence pried parts of Plateau State apart, this essayist looked back to history, and at a time when the locals ached for the Fulani. When they did not arrive early enough, they pined for them. They just did not want them, they needed them.

    No one would have thought, only two generations ago, we would see this today. They lob curse words at each other, guns reply guns, machetes glisten into crying flesh, sneers over screams and tears, corpse pile on corpse. At nightfall, many fall, including the grandma next door in her wizened glory.

    The halcyon times now belong to the ages. When this essayist learned of the slaughter at Bokkos and others, we also saw the message of the governor, Caleb Mutfwang, when he announced that over 60 communities have been colonised by foreigners in the state.

    In the good times, these foreigners were invited. Was their goodwill the reason for today’s ill-will? They are not even Nigerian Fulani. They are interlopers. But when they came in those days, it was because they gave them value. Everyone was a farmer, and everyone wanted a herder in their clan, in their villages. This was not restricted to the plateau area alone; it was all over the north.

    They were the brides of the farms. The locals craved fertilizer. The Fulani came with wife and sometimes kids. But their jewel of the bride was the cow. The herdsmen lived for their cattle then. No one knew they would die and kill for them. Their love for their jewel was hidden in their genes, and only revealed generations later in spasms of slaughter. The cows toiled then as they do today, going through what J. P Clark described: “From desert through grass and forest/To the hungry towns by sea/Does call at least for rest.”

    Indeed, the locals loved the cattle first, and later their human bearers. They wanted them less for food than their stools. Food for the farms. The cattle were jewels of wastes, and the  wastes were worth the wait.  When they arrived, they gave without measure and it made Clark wonder in poesy, “Your face of stool for mystery:/What secret hope or knowledge,/Locked in your hump away from man.”

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    Indeed, the locals scrambled for the arrival of the nomads. And when they came, they settled on the farms. Not as hostile takeovers but as welcome guests. The cows crouched and mooed and mated, and filled the soil with manure. Their filth was gold. The Fulani built temporary shelters.

    Only good locals were allowed to host them. In my biography of the former governor, Senator Simon Lalong, titled: Forty Days and Forty Nights, he relates to me his experience as a child growing up in that part. In a chapter titled: Everyone Wants a Fulani Herdsman, Lalong said: “In those days, you dared not say Fulani would not settle on your farm. If they came and they didn’t settle on your farm, it meant you are a wicked man because people were looking for them in advance. If it was a dry season, some went to ask a chief to allow them stay on their farms when they came around.”

    When they arrived, they would meet the village chief, and the chief would instruct him on whose farm to settle. It was not the Fulani that lobbied for a place.

    “The prize was breathtaking. Once the Fulani settle on the farm, the cows deposited dung. Dung was boon.” There was no fear that the Fulani would steal their crops. They were wayfarers of integrity. They lived in mutual trust of their locals. When their tour ended, they did not leave without gratitude. Sometimes they would  present valuables as gifts to their hosts.

    They slaughtered  cows for the host, and even butcher them. Sometimes, they would hand them live goats. Lalong relates a story when he and his friends thought the visitors had left, and shared their precious possesions like wrappers among themselves. Suddenly, the owners materialized, and the woman turned out a friend of Lalong’s mother who sold her favorite fura. All the boys were chided and compelled to return all they acquired.

    How did that paradise of harmony transform into slaughter? When did the person whose cow farted for plenty become a nightmare? The first sign was Gamalin, a chemical that poisoned the fertilizer.

    The fetish of modernity turned the love of the poop. They were done with dung. Welcome the fertilizer. Alas, the Fulani was no longer wanted on the farm. When the rains came, they flooded the farms, and the Fulani were gone. But the Gamalin did not only poison the farms, the flood carried the poison to the rivers where they fished.

    The apotheosis of peace was behind them. They had no fish, and no rice. Poverty beckoned. The first villain was not the Fulani. It was modernity. Then the Fulani wanted to graze, and gradually cooperation became suspicion, and suspicion turned to tension of hostility.

    If they did not welcome the Fulani who came from outside the country, why did they remain? That is the question. The land belonged to the locals. Gradually the Fulani lost cattle, and they blamed those who did not give them room to graze. They lost cattle because the locals resented them as colonisers. They also said the locals stole their cattle. The tension worsened.

    They told each other the words of Arab poet, Mahmud Darwish, “don’t ask of me, my love, the love I once had for thee.”

    Their numbers swelled, and now they have over 60 communities. They now own them with impunity. It is what Germans called Lebensraum in the days of Hitler’s Nazis. It is called living room. The Germans said they wanted areas of Czechoslovakia where the Sudeten Germans lived, and they did not care for the locals. It was an expansionist ideology with racism in its core. But some have said Babangida’s creation of a local government now known as Jos North empowered this impunity. But it is Hausa who live there, not Fulani. Yet, we cannot deny that official somnolence  allowed community after community to fall to people who are not even Nigerians. A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands.

    A lot of this happened under Buhari. To reverse this will mean extreme slaughter. The colonisers are ready for the kill. They recall Sophocles’ play Ajax about a man who slaughtered cows after cows under the delusion that he was slaughtering his human enemies. In this case, they slaughter humans after humans as though they are slaughtering animals. It is a play American soldiers are instructed to watch because of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. When the locals kill one or filch a cow, they can eliminate a thousand in revenge. Medics need to investigate that pathology.

    A group visited one of the communities, and the colonisers said even the mechanized army division in the state would be slaughtered if it tried to evacuate them. Who owns the land? An echo from Sunny Okosun’s grave.

  • Obi and Atiku’s failed romance

    Obi and Atiku’s failed romance

    A sort of romance is steaming between Obi and Atiku, but a wedlock is forbidden by the gods. Not even the courts can help. The crises eating away at both the Labour Party and the People’s Democratic Party sought succour at the judiciary, culminating at the Supreme Court. Each had fighting factions, and peace was sought not within them but by an arbiter. The arbiter, however, said it was not their business. They did not want to be interlopers. They were not elders in a village and would not bring peace by fiat. The beds remain cold for Pitobi and Atiku.

    They wanted dictatorship by court order. Obi and his faction thought they would win. So did the hard-fighting Abure and his group. Neither won. Atiku and his men wanted to hector their way to control. They could visit Buhari till eternity with his friend El Rufai, but the court would not help. In PDP, we cannot say neither won. The winner is Wike and his men.

    That brings us to the core of the matter. If neither Obi nor Atiku could bring the fighting soldiers of their parties to a truce, how could we trust them to resolve a nation as fractious as Nigeria. They exposed their failures as leaders.

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    Obi has not been able to rein in the protests in his party. As we have it today, the Labour Party started to fight over power, but at the bottom is that the no shishi party now realises there is a lot of chin chin in the bag. All the fanatics who are “agba dollars” have stuffed the Labour Party purse with a lot trouble. And all of them, including Apapa, are fishing. We can say they are fishing for trouble.

    As for PDP, Atiku should have continued lounging in Dubai rather than visiting the dusty city of Ibadan only to be dusted out by the governors who would not give him a nod to merge with other parties. Already, the Social Democratic Party has said no to the squat man of Kaduna, and have asked him to go to his ward. The man may not even know anybody of grassroots value in his ward. We have not seen him there after they asked him to abide by the party protocol. Atiku wanted to put Band-Aid on a wound by saying the party should merge. Merge with who? LP? Both of them are wounded, and limping.

    The governors said if we cannot fight with a sore head, let us die like men. Atiku says, let us pretend we are men. He wants to imitate APC. He was not in the kitchen when the soup was  made. Now he is acting like the chef. No menu for wedlock with Pitobi.

  • What is federal character?

    What is federal character?

    A storm of numbers rent the past week over appointments. It is the sort of debate that focuses on the elite rather than the people. No one posed questions about the quality of the appointees, what have they accomplished, and where have they erred.

    Rather, tongues wagged about tribes. This sort of furore deviates from progress to the embers of greed.  It is hypocrisy and an elite distraction.

    I am not underplaying the value of inclusion. But this essayist wanted, at least, a level of sophistication in the fracas. I expected the captious barbs to levitate a little for ideas rather than sentiment. But as Oscar Wilde noted, man is a creature of sentiment and not of reason.

    The storm trooper is none other than Ali Ndume, the querulous senator who I discredited not long ago when I compelled him to confess his sins in public.

     In his last censorious fart, he queried the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN)’s staff realignment. He cried not because he loved North or hated South. It was a disguised plea for his relatives there who might be moved South. He had played a nepotist card in giving jobs. After all, as a ‘senator concern’ how would they know that he is a big man if he cannot put his children or nieces or nephews etc, in the posh sweetness of jobs?

     He swiftly confessed after my challenge. But as a man who has no self-awareness, he was out again ranting a year later over appointments. In between, he had unfurled his forked tongue about the tax bill. It all had to do with spoils. But this is no time to batten down those details.

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    On the issue of lopsided appointments, he seems to have revived his motor park hubris. He said it is not because he is against President Bola Tinubu. He was just being fair. Haba Malam.

    This man wants access to the president. He is not getting it. He has turned himself into the rottweiler at the gate, and has to bark all night so all who are asleep can open the gate and give him shelter and a bone.

     He should tell us when was the last time he had a one-on-one meeting with the president? He is just a bitter man. And then he is woofing and growling without figures.

    Ndume loves to speak to galleries with an empty-barrel vanity because there is always an audience for such full-throated extravagance.

    Now what are the facts? He probably did not like the fact that the NNPCL boss is named Ojulari, and he forgot that the man is from the north central. He forgot that the new chairman of the board is his kinsman. He is still angry that the FCT minister is from Rivers State and that the CBN governor is named Cardoso and not Ali. This is the sort of parochial torment in his soul.

    Maybe he should have visited the Federal Character Commission (FCC) and enquired, as this essayist has done, and obtained the facts.

    Does he know that under Bola Tinubu, the appointments are still skewed to the north? During the Buhari era, north central had 110 while Tinubu raised it to 137. The Northeast had 102, and now they have 91. The Northwest had 127 but have now 134. The Southeast stayed almost the same and fell from 71 under Buhari to 70 now. South-south rose marginally from 71 to 79. Southwest had a sharp rise from 91 to 146. In aggregate, the north has a total of 339 to the south’s 233.

    If anyone wants to complain, it is not a man like Ali Ndume. I would have said the South-south and Southeast should be up in arms. But they, too, and I am from the South-south, should exercise a sense of history.

    Not long ago when Goodluck Jonathan was president, our Southeast brothers called Jonathan Azikiwe on the ground of his favoritism. His main beneficiaries were either from the Southeast or South-south, and he had no compunction about it. No one complained at that time about a lopsided profile of jobs.

     In fact, the British press wrote vivid stories of Nigerians of a certain extraction on a shopping mania, buying up High Street in London. That was the Jonathan effect.

     Ayim was secretary to the federation and he should tell us if he did not give more jobs to his kinsmen and some South-south fellows than anywhere else. In fact, I know of an Urhobo man who he would not allow to do a second term because he had to replace him with his kinsman. We cannot forget Okonjo Iweala wailing that only Southeasterners qualified for jobs.

    The idea of federal character should not be seen as a snapshot in time. It has to be seen as balance over time. The Southwest may seem to have revved up its profile under Tinubu, but when was the last time that happened? Some said the premium jobs have gone to Yoruba. I ask, when was the last time a Yoruba man was CBN chief, or chief of army staff, or head of Customs or head of NNPCL?

    We have run a historically unbalanced profile of jobs. This is because our leaders over time prefer conclave of tribe to merit, or the abused word, Fairness. It is for this lack of fairness that we have accepted the idea of zoning the presidency.

     We don’t trust ourselves yet. Imagine if Tinubu were not president, the last time we might have had a Yoruba chief of army staff would be about three decades ago under Alani Akinrinade.

     Did the East not celebrate when Jonathan made Ihejirika the chief of army staff? The first since Ironsi. During a NIMASA anniversary, they gave out merit awards to staff who had served over decades.

    It turned out that when a northerner was director general, it was northerners on the staff; under a South-south DG, it was South-south staff, and under a Yoruba DG, it was Yoruba staff. Each DG to his own. It is typical in virtually all federal agencies. Time has been the tool for balancing, rather than attaining merit in a snapshot in time.

    Bigots like Ndume should look at the northern profile of Tinubu’s appointment. He addressed the main issues plaguing the north, health, poverty, security, housing and education. All the ministers heading those critical sectors are from the North. Except the deployment of Alausa to education. But the minister of state is also from the North. Is that not an opportunity to attack the issues through their appointees?

    Since 1999, when did appointees change the poverty or state of development in the regions of the presidents? Never. During Jonathan, the Southeast had its worst roads, and Fashola has been the best to have lifted eastern infrastructure. I stand to be corrected. Jonathan’s Second Niger Bridge never took off. Buhari redeemed it. Yet, the poverty index under Buhari was appalling up North, especially among the talakawa who swore by his name.

    What we should adduce is development, not elite allocation of offices. That is our bane. We call some offices juicy? Some did not want Wike in FCT because they thought it is “juicy.” It is a code word for corruption. This is pharisaic. The debate over lopsidedness is not the worry of the Fulani farmer or Igbo spare parts seller. It is an elite who craves a Dubai mansion.

  •  Olunloyo: Rich man, Poor Man

     Olunloyo: Rich man, Poor Man

    Omololu Olunloyo’s passing throws up the consequences of politics for family, a subject many don’t address.

    Recently, his daughter Kemi announced she has renounced the family.

    But it is not a joking matter. She told the story of how about 25 touts defiled her at 13 and wounded her brother when they were on a journey.

    Her father’s political enemies were after a pound of flesh. Many should not underestimate the extent of that trauma, and there is no way it might not have damaged something in her for the rest of her life and brother’s.

    Recently, Femi Fani-Kayode gave a graphic account of how as a boy the army stormed their home at night and bullied his father with their arms and uniforms and voices.

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    It was during the 1966 coup. The children watched, and no one can underestimate how such an experience in such an age can turn a person upside down.

    Olunloyo might also have been ravaged by that experience of his children. Yet, he kept an ebullient persona throughout his life.

    I recall in the 1980’s at the Concord Press when he paid a visit.

    Mike Awoyinfa, Dele Momodu, Ohi Alegbe and Femi Ojudu  and myself engaged him for over an hour. We were all on our feet at the car park, and we discussed everything from the anomaly of army rule, to the dearth of intellectualism in Nigeria and the meltdown of the Soviet Union.

     It was a feast on our feet.

    He invited me to view his Ibadan library.

     I never obliged.

    The following Saturday, Awoyinfa captured the ferment in his column and titled it, Rich man, Poor Man.

  • It’s about power

    It’s about power

    Governor Sheriff Oborevwori put his finger on the power of investment in the investment in power. This, I think,  should be the model for governors who are trying to take advantage of the opening up of many watts to states to ease the federal burden. In signing a slew of bills into law, especially the Delta State Electricity Power Sector law 2024, Governor Oborevwori said it would “unlock a plethora of investment opportunities in the power generation, transmission and distribution…” it’s a trinity bomb.

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    If each state sees power as not just light in a darkness, it will help turn states that see it in terms of dollar investments. It is a huge industry. For a state like Delta with more metropolitan areas than any other in the federation, it is a boon door for its citizens and the country. A city like Warri that is gradually waking up under him from its long slumber, it is power to the city!

  • Trump and the Nigerian Christian

    Trump and the Nigerian Christian

    It is a pity that we have to discuss the Nigerian surrender to tyranny in another land. But that is the case with Donald Trump. He just released for the world a slew of tariffs. For Nigeria, he gave us 14 percent. When I read it, I had pity on Nigerians in diaspora.

    I pity more the Christians who voted for him. They were the persons who thought they were voting for God. Rather they were voting in their hater, hugging the demon. For one, the tariffs will jack up the cost of their food. So, the garri, ewedu, ogbono and goat meat will now force them to dig deeper into their pockets to secure a seat on the dinner table.

    That will take some slice away from the money they will send to pay that school fee or that rent in Lagos or Enugu. It is not that alone that worries this essayist. It is the result of a delusion.

    The church leaders told their folks to vote for the party of God, apologies to Saint Augustine. Nigerians abhor racism because they are victims. They voted in a racist. The reason, and genuinely too, they were afraid of the scourge of the gay, and the ferocity of abortions. Some of their children had begun to change to lesbians, and their boys are liking boys. Their girls are sweet on girls. The scripture won’t have it. The parents won’t stomach it.

    Therefore, forget the fear of race. Take shelter under the shadow of the almighty. But they were mistaken. First, they did not know that race, and people like Nigerians who are now in the Japa mode are making the bigots like Trump quake. They are afraid of a post-racial society.

    They want a Lilly-white paradise. Trump was going to give it to them. But while the blacks and many Hispanics were voting on one side of culture, that is a genuine love of Christ, the whites were voting on another. They had a genuine fear, not of God, but of a society where Trump himself feared when he said, “we won’t have a country anymore.”

    The whites were voting for man in the name of God. The same blacks, by no means a majority, voted for God but ended up endorsing a white supremacy. It is the irony of democracy. We can call this the great delusion.

    Now, the same Republican Party that invited a Nigerian gospel singer to entertain them, mostly white audiences in Trump’s inauguration, is now sending their dogs after the Christians in New York. They worship in fear, not the sort of fear that God said we should fear Him with. The fear of the Lord is to hate evil. This fear is evil.

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    It is the archaeology of the past that we are seeing today in the United States. Those who belonged to a time of fear and tyranny, the whips of slavery and suffocation of racial contempt. We cannot say the Nigerians knew that they will also work in fear, eat their garri while thinking whether the ghouls are at their doorstep, or work and expect the call of the wild man of the ICE.

    During the elections, many of those polled said they were going to vote mainly because of cost of living. The cost of things were too high. Costs had dwarfed their paychecks and bank accounts. They loathed Biden for making life so hard. But a few months in, the man says costs would continue to go high, yet the man’s approval rating is still holding up. What does that say? That they like what he is doing by sacking a top black military general, they cherish the fear in the streets, the hounding of those who lashed out at the American government in the media, immigrants who protested Israeli carnage, universities who continue to bring the foreigners into their country.

    Trump is avowedly against democracy, but he needs democracy in his own image. Hence he despised the elections he lost and exaggerates the one he won. Some are afraid he might outlaw an election. He is after lawyers, media, judges. He does not care if the system fails, so long as he succeeds.

    This is the flipside of democracy. It does not always work as democracy. Hence Winston Churchill said, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.” Humans are not natural democrats. Democracy has been a blip in human history, and it may leave us if we do not protect it. As Maxim Gorky wrote, “the only people who deserve freedom are those who fight for it every day.”

    The church in America is divided, and it has always been so. But today, it is showing a side of victory that is appalling. This is because systems are more about people than about law, justice and institutions.  When a human acts like Hobbes’ leviathan, systems pack up, as we saw under Hitler, Franco and Mussolini. Some of the colourful tyrants of today were voted in, like Putin, Erdogan, Duterte and Orban. Democracy voted out democracy in ancient Greece. We are seeing it in America today.

    Hence the church should be careful how it endorses candidates. The Nigerian church leaders who counselled voting for Trump are struggling with church attendance with the implication for faith, especially for tithes and offerings.

    In the US, the white church leaders see their mission to save the culture for Christ. In his book, The False White Gospel, Jim Wallis demonstrates how white church leaders choose career over integrity. If they support a multi-racial ethos, they will lose their jobs. The spiritual takes a back step to money. Some live in denial. In his new biography titled: Reagan, Max Boot says Reagan said he was not aware of racism in the 1930’s. This is the same man who campaigned in Mississippi decades later to proclaim, “I believe in state’s rights,” a coda for racism.

    When big men take over democracy, they must act like beasts. They must also be populist beasts. It is populism that brought Trump, Duterte, Erdogan and Orban. It is populism that lionised Hitler. When beasts take on democracy, they are worse, just like Samuel Johnson defined them. “He who makes himself a beast gets rid of the pain of being a man.”

    Hence Trump is tearing apart people’s lives and is still playing golf. It is variety of madness. Michel Foucault, the tormented genius, tracked the history of mad people in his classic Madness and Civilisation. He showed that definitions of madness have changed from age to age. I wonder how he will characterize madness of the trump iteration.

    Shakespeare and the Greek Playwrights knew some of them, playwrights like Sophocles and Aeschylus. But Shakespeare gave us King Lear about a father and king who gives inheritance to the daughters who loath him and dispatches the only one who loves him. In creative tour de force, he makes Lear in sync with a fool as he loses his sight.