The Nation Newspaper

Category: Oyinkan Medubi

  • Aging

    I hope to grow old too, if only to be able to oppress the young ‘uns with my white-haired wisdom. With toothless gums, I want to be able to say, ‘when something wuns, shomething elshe mush wun with it’, and leave them, and me, mystified

    I have come to the unsavoury conclusion that it is dangerous to become an aged person in this country. Don’t get me wrong. I want to become old, but I don’t want to suffer, not just from the known diseases of old people, but THE Nigerian disease of old people: abandonment, total abandonment. No one seems to mind old people anymore, so they have taken to begging, being passed from one impatient relative to another, or sitting out their days in the dark, waiting.

    Someone told a story not long ago that was a mixture of sadness and mirthless mirth. While out on an errand one dusky evening, a young man came upon an aged couple sitting quietly in front of their house. The evening grew dark but the couple sat on. While returning from his errand, the young man saw that the couple had not shifted even though it was very dark. What was the problem? There was no electricity. The couple had a beautiful house, complete with amenities including a power generating set; but they lived alone because the children all lived abroad and no one lived with them. Obviously, due to old age, they found it difficult turning on the generating set.

    The young man was now in a quandary, as the story went. If he turned on the generating set for the old couple, who would turn it off? If he left a candle burning, would they remember to snuff it out? He then did the next best thing. Oh no, he didn’t ask them to move in with him; he simply bought them a rechargeable lamp and showed them how to turn it on and off. He also silently prayed they would remember to switch it off.

    Are you laughing dear reader? Please don’t because this story is fast becoming the Nigerian story. Parents who have worked very hard to stow their children in foreign countries are now sitting in front of their houses on dark nights counting the costs. Yes, you’re right; there were good, cogent reasons that necessitated the stowing away in the first place. After all, are boats not being picked up north of Africa full of emigrants desiring to run to foreign countries all the time and all?

    So yes, all parents want to give their children the best education all the time, even if it means getting money by fair and foul means to send the poor little things out of the country for it. After all, it is not the children’s fault that children in Nigerian schools cannot speak English the way it should be spoken; well, because they were not taught. It is not the children’s fault that teachers speak very bad English themselves anyway because they really cannot spare the time for self-improvement. It is certainly not the children’s fault that the government does not pay its teachers as, at when, and what is due, leading to strikes (a la ASUU) or diversion of teachers’ attention to coke selling (a la school teachers). Between the two, who has time to teach English? One parent confessed that when he listened to the bad English of his child’s teacher, he promptly sent the child abroad.

    True, it was not only the bad English of teachers that drove many parents to this desperate measure. There is the pride too. And how is X child? ‘Oh’, the parent enthuses, giving a sigh of deep satisfaction, ‘he’s doing great. In fact, I have only just now spoken to him. He has just got a new job and house. In fact, I have pictures of my grandchildren here,’ making to open the bag before you beat a hasty retreat.

    I must admit though that even when parents have not sent their children to go and school and work abroad, many children all over the world appear to have been bitten by the wanderlust and have upped and taken off for parts unknown by themselves. Many years ago I read a report on how a husband and wife in Britain had problems managing their home and health issues and suffered from loneliness. What was the problem? Their adult children had earlier migrated, like birds, to Australia. I thought then that that could not happen to Nigerians. Later, I read another report on how successful adult Japanese children who were too busy to have time for their parents had resorted to paying firms to send flowers and messages to their parents on their behalf. I thought again that that could not happen in Nigeria. Why will children not have time for their parents in Nigeria? On both counts, I have been proved wrong.

    The truth is that as children continue to do well for themselves, gleefully climbing one ladder rung after the other, the previously proud parents have continued to grow more and more alone. Oh yes, what we are witnessing now is the direct result of our new and improved life style: living for oneself in one’s bungalow or mansion rather than in one large compound of cousins, aunties and uncles. I think it is called modernity or something.

    Have you noticed the number of people managing to make it past the government’s average life span is somehow increasing, against all expectations and aggravations? Oh, I would not say it’s because of any improvement in the average life style in Nigeria. Have you forgotten non-functioning hospitals, embezzling chief executives, blood pressure-raising missing funds, Nigeria’s cleverly designed road hazards, boko haram, kidnappers, … should I go on? In spite of them all, many find themselves in old age by some hook, crook or careful living.

    Yet, the government has sort of abandoned the care of the aged to their various larger families. Unfortunately, the family system is evolving into something confused and unrecognisable in Nigeria right now. Therefore, the larger family is not able to come in and take care of aged permanent secretaries, professors, directors, generals, business executives, etc., when they have aged beyond being useful to the community and now need care themselves. This means they have more freedom to spend many dark nights sitting in front of their houses.

    I tell you, this thing worries me o. First, I ask myself, will I get to become one of them old ‘uns? Honestly, I do; I hope to grow old too, if only to be able to oppress the young ‘uns with my white-haired wisdom. With toothless gums, I want to be able to say, ‘when something wuns, shomething elshe mush wun with it’, and leave them, and me, mystified.

    My son has assured me I should not worry. He will make sure I am not a nuisance to myself, the society or him. He will put me in an old people’s home. Now, all we have to do is find one. When I was growing up in Lagos, there used to be one. Instead of that one to multiply and give birth to more homes, the thing rather shrank in number from one. So now, old people’s homes are scattered all over Nigerian homes, only they are badly run, indifferently financed and give inmates too many nights sitting outside in the dark.

    I think there is a need for the government to step up. It needs to compel the building of more old people’s homes in each state, city and possibly local government. It is our collective responsibility to ensure that while bones and skins are still hanging on to their owners, they should be cared for, rather than being left alone to become beggars. In the meantime, the new old people must be prepared to combine homes or live near relatives, friends or children. This is easier said than done, I know, but it sure beats sitting outside in the dark waiting for providence.

  • Here’s to all fathers

    Many unsuccessful fathers are today ruling the world, and only one deduction can come from that: it’s no wonder the world is in this sorry state

    My salute to all fathers today is a little belated, considering that Fathers’ Day was celebrated the third week of last month, but as I always say, better late than never. Besides, you know the kind of present that I value most? It’s the kind that comes unexpectedly, is late, and is very expensive. Ah! great is the quality of the surprise that one brings. Now, onto our story.

    To many children, fathers are the breadwinners of the family. He just seems to represent that part of the family tree where money seems to spring from. This is why it is difficult for children to believe that money does not grow on trees. It does; it grows on the father’s side of the family tree. Oh, I’ve said that, haven’t I? it is because when children need to buy a loaf of bread, ‘go ask daddy’; when they need to buy school uniforms, ‘go ask daddy’; when the family needs a car, ‘we’ll ask daddy’; when the family needs a jet, who else can we ask? Happily, the story is changing these days. Now, it is possible to ask mummy for money for bread too but we’ll talk about this some other day.

    Fathers also represent safety. Oh, there is no measuring the great amount of comfort a child gets when he/she knows daddy is near, particularly in a thunderstorm, or in the face of external threats, or in the face of internal threats such as mummy. You would not believe just how much children rely on those muscles. A father said he had to take his son to the hospital for one ailment or the other. When the doctors took the son over and started pricking and jabbing him, the son felt very let down that the father did not rescue him from the wicked doctors with those strong muscles of his.

    Sometimes, those muscles are used to instil discipline via the cane, and that is when things take unnatural turns and confusions set in. A father recounted how his child looked at him with horror when he had to apply corporal punishment. He said he might as well have brought out the knife.

    If we were to ask young children what their fathers represent to them, many of them would surprise us. They would talk about the words associated with their fathers, mannerisms they best remember about them, the names they call them, but more importantly, the image they represent in the house. I read in one book that a child said they called their father ‘Moses’ in their house because every morning, he called the family together and gave them the ten commandments for the day. So, when they saw him coming, they would go ‘Here comes Moses with the tablet of stone’, and he would go, ‘If I ever see you playing with my comb again …’ Another child said they called their father ‘General X, Supreme Commander’. He was fond of barking his commands at them: GET OUT OF THAT CHAIR! GET OUT OF MY ROOM! GO AND BUY ME AN ENVELOPE! All too often, the children quaked and shook uncontrollably at the sound of his voice. Another child said their father was God. He was too fond of saying, ‘Listen, I made you and I can unmake you. You came from inside my body and you can pretty well go back in there.’ Such sweet daddies, these, no?

    Truth is, fathers stand for many frightening things to their children, all too often because those fathers inherited the genes of fright from their own fathers who got them from their fathers who got them from their own fathers, ad infinitum. At the sound of a father’s voice, the child goes into throes of terror and the father goes away thinking ‘Yeah, that’s how to stay in control of the ship: tolerate no dissension from the ranks’. Want to know the truth? Most children tend to see their fathers as being capable of eating them up if they do not do as they are told. That voice is just too scaaaaaary!

    I best remember my father for many things: provisions, a bank account that just never seemed to flow too well in my direction, and THE LOOK. My father rarely applied the cane on us children but he generously applied THE LOOK. THE LOOK was the eye of steel which spelt only one thing: disapproval. Most times, that was all it took for us to want to sink beneath ground level and just disappear from the face of the earth. You took what did not belong to you, you got THE LOOK; you said what you were not supposed to say, you got THE LOOK; you did what you were not supposed to do such as failing your exams, you got that soul, spirit and body crushing LOOK that wordlessly said, ‘Consider yourself slapped and maimed for that thoughtless action’. That look, I must confess, has saved me from many a scrape and has kept me well towed and reigned in. True, I have got into other scrapes in spite of it, but who knows, there might have been more without it. Even now that he is dead and gone, THE LOOK lives on in my husband. Viva la LOOK!

    So, where would we be without our big, bad wolves, particularly since they rule the world?! Oh yes, your world, nations and states’ rulers are all fathers, I think. Let’s face it, some among them are not very successful fathers at home, since sometimes, children sort of develop immunity against the voices, muscles and looks, and just go their own merry ways. Sometimes, though, it’s the fathers who fail to apply the voice, muscle and look and choose to go their own merry way, preferring to give their talents to the nation or the world or drink or partying while the mother rules the home. When one woman and her daughter heard that the head of their home had been appointed into a government post, they both laughed. He had no clout to command at home. Many unsuccessful fathers are today ruling the world, and only one deduction can come from that: no wonder the world is in this sorry state.

    There are many homes which have no fathers for one reason or the other: death, divorce or desertion and it is clear in such instances that their places and shoes are empty. This is because nature has designed that they should be there. Where mothers are absent, their places and shoes would also be empty because nature has so designed that they also should be there. Natural creation of complementarities has stipulated roles for each divide. Fathers are the last bastion of discipline: ‘Junior, if you don’t drop that knife, your father will visit you this evening with the belt’ produces instant compliance. In the same way, mothers are the last bastion of love: ‘Junior, try and understand your daddy, he means well; now come and take a slice of bread’.

    No doubt, fathers mean well for us, in spite of their ways. That is the way nature designed them to be: furious, angry, whirlwinds; we would like to take them just as they are if they remember that homes are supposed to be havens not hotspots; wives are to be loved, not flung across the room like balls and children are to be assisted to grow up to be what they want to be, not forced into prepared jackets that fit the father’s ambition. All the world cannot be my red shoes. So, here’s a toast to all fathers: may your days be long, your cups be full, your voices stay strong and your LOOKS remain compelling. VIVA THATA LOOKA!

  • In the name of God, please let these bombings stop!

    Surely, there is a lot more to life than killing people

    ‘Isn’t Dr. Smith moderate in his charges?’, enthused a grateful patient. Another sceptical patient replied, ‘Yes; you can say that he has managed to bring illness within the reach of everybody.’ In another book I once read, someone commented on the fact that the funeral charges of a neighbourhood’s undertaker were too high, and so he should be sanctioned. Somebody else replied that by making his charges so high, couldn’t we say the undertaker was doing his best to discourage people from dying?

    I learnt three things from these two jokes. One is that you can never satisfy human beings. Oh no, that is not original to me. I think Ebenezer Obey once said something like that, only better because he used a song to say it so that you could dance while listening to him. The second thing I leant is that people will make jokes out of anything. They are that jobless. The third is that there is always a second (or more) way of viewing things. Take illness for instance. Can you imagine a medical doctor going round advertising his skills like a trader advertising his wares by saying something like ‘You can relax your rigid lifestyle and fear of illness now; you can afford to be sick, you know’. Then you imagine a tensed up individual going ‘Phew! Thank God. How very beneficial that is!’

    I am one of those who have grown perpetually and pseudo-permanently sceptical about anything and everything ever since I sat in at a lecture titled ‘Appearance versus Reality’ at university. I believe my disbelieving problem started then. I stopped believing that leaves are really as green as they appear in summer and the skies are as blue as they appear on clear days. And I am often proved right. Just wait till autumn, winter and spring to see the real colour of leaves; and the harmattan and rainy seasons to see the real colour of the sky move from blue to grey to red. Have you ever seen a reddened dust-laden sky? Um hum.

    I also stopped believing anything the government says. For instance, have you not noticed there is always a variance bordering on wide gulfs between the casualty figures given by the government/police and those given by hospitals whenever there has been a disaster, natural or manmade? Well, because of that, I have now taken to believing only the figures given by our ancestors. Yes, they do speak – through the morgues. And talking of figures, I am sure you will agree that the casualty figures from bombings (manmade) in the northern part of the country is getting uncomfortably high for a human as against a vampire society.

    I honestly do not know what is going on but there are several theories and a half that sound more like conjectures, but you never know, since appearance is not always reality. On the surface, it would appear that the boko haram has become rather emboldened and has refuelled after the onslaught of attacks close to the end of the Jonathan era. So, from appearances, they are now retaliating what they thought they suffered from the soldiers who took them on.

    Secondly, on the surface, it appears as if, having been pummelled by the Nigerian Military, the boko haram people have decided to ask for external help, much as our president is doing now. So there they are; boko haram reaching out to their murderous kindred across the seas and the deserts for more arms, bombs and know-how, while our president is reaching out to the sane world for help – you know, arms, know-how and all.

    Thirdly, the theory goes that the soldiers themselves are trying to convince our president that there really is a problem with the boko haram, just in case he does not know that there is one, by letting down their own guard. In short, much like the state executives and the oil plunderers, it would appear, according to people’s thoughts (remember I am just a reporter), that the soldiers believe there is a need to, you know, twist the president’s arm a little to soft-pedal a bit on his anti-corruption drive.

    Frankly, I don’t know which one of these appearances is the reality. I do know one reality though: there is too much ease in bringing bombing within the reach of everybody in the north and it is unsettling. For a while now, bombing has become a daily ritual. First everyone breakfasts with joy, and then goes about the days’ labours with a great deal of hope, then suddenly ‘gboam!’ goes off somewhere, and the peace of that environment is shattered, along with a lot of bones and flesh, by a bomb. Haba!!!

    There is half a fact that is coming out of all these, and which I am only now acknowledging to myself, and that is that the knowledge of bomb making is too much within the reach of too many people up yonder. In a country suffering from too little knowledge of things in general, this knowledge is too uncomfortable. Why is it that the boko haram people are not seeking knowledge on how to run one factory machine, produce, weave, mould, bake or craft something, etc., all of which will be tantamount to creating something? Why will they rather prefer to destroy things and people and lives? Is it because it is easier to destroy that to build? Or rather is it because people are not showing them the way?

    In a way, one reality still stands against the government in all this. I do remember the locust years of import licence when every grasshopper was given the licence to import whatever it wanted, and mostly finished products. Industry-minded people were not given the opportunity to grow their craft, bring out products, employ people and put food on the table for millions. Instead, the government preferred to put plenty of money on the table of their cronies by allowing them to import even flies.

    Many were the victims of this policy, including this writer and others known to her. Many had taken advantage of the previous years’ border closure to finished goods and gone and borrowed heavily to fill the gap in the market with such goods. Suddenly though, the new government opened the flood gates to them goods and voila, many of us industrialists were left biting our fingers, and our goods. These included the textile factories round the country, the tomato, rice, wood pulp factories, etc. That, plus the poor education track records of the north, is why there is such a large army of the unemployed, unskilled and uneducated ready for use by boko haram.

    Perhaps it is possible to bring sickness within the reach of everybody, but bringing bombings within the reach of everybody is another kettle of fish in this society. A society that is staggering politically, battered economically, unsettled culturally in spite of the fact that everybody is going around ‘settling’ the other, cannot afford more bombings. The boko haram people need to understand that there is a lot more to life than just killing people.

    There is, for example, the joy of working for a pittance which may sometimes come late; or giving birth to children who turn around and question you on every order you give them when they become adolescents. Definitely, there is the joyful thumping you hear in your heart when the rent is due again or the joy of that new car that soon begins to make you hiss first thing in the morning. I do not want the boko haram boys to miss these beautiful facts of life; so they should not make others miss them. Please, in the name of God, let us discourage death and stop these bombings.

  • Has anyone found Nigeria, please?

    With Nigeria lost in the power games and starched agbadas of her rescuers, we do have a situation

    I don’t know if you have noticed this trend, but these days, our politicians seem to be carrying on as if they were superstars of Hollywood. At least, we all know that Hollywood stars, by dint of hard work and paid dues, usually earn enough money to buy themselves large egos. Don’t ask me if they deserve all that money considering that teachers and road-side labourers labour more, spend more hours working, less hours frolicking, and still cannot manage to keep their roofs. Your stars however find that they can buy themselves some exotic islands on earth as Marlon Brando was reputed to have done once.

    Our Nigerian politicians have quite a bit in common with them. They also spend less hours working than the teacher, or roadside labourer who spends his entire energy digging up an unyielding earth. Politicians are supposed to be people whose lives have been interrupted ‘for a bit’ to ‘go and work for the people’. (Someone, not me, said they have been engaged to ‘just talk’). In the process, however, I guess they fancy themselves something like superstars; so they like to carry on like them stars and also buy themselves islands not by dint of hard work but courtesy of the Nigerian treasury.

    You know how to recognise superstars, no? First there is the dressing, which is often outlandish. In fact, it often goes against the grains of sense; indeed, fig leaves make much better sense. If they are not opening up the frontage and dipping the neckline to the toes, they are putting on things that expose the muscles to the naked elements. You recognise our own superstar politicians by their own coverings also. Rather than baring anything, they don starched and excessively flowing agbada which are big enough to use as parachutes in landing emergences; or Savile Row suits and shirts, the costs of each of which can feed a family for a year.

    Then there are the rides. Man, when you see the rides, you agree that there are stars. Every superstar knows that. We will not talk about Hollywood rides. We are more concerned about the big, shinny, black jeeps that shove my poor car off the road each time we have a confrontation. Actually, it’s got to the point now my car recognises them: as soon as one of the big bad wolves comes in view, my car begins to tremble. Honestly, if I wasn’t so annoyed by the cowardice of my car, I would be green with envy.

    The conclusion is that it now pays to know one politician in Nigeria. There was a time it used to be that a family that had produced a graduate considered itself in seventh heaven. People could no longer talk to them anyhow in the market place. Soon after, graduates became two a penny, while some can’t even get jobs. So, it seems that our politicians have risen to take the superstardom space formerly occupied by graduates. People now stand tall knowing there is a politician in the family. Judging by the way they carry on, you would think they were now second class citizens while the rest of us are consigned to carrying on with life on the plains of sixth class citizenship (sniff! sniff!). By their politico-familial connections, they can get taken abroad, build houses and generally do well. Honestly, if I wasn’t so preoccupied looking for a politician who would adopt me as family, I would again be envious.

     Something gnaws at me though, and that is that, in the midst of all this confusion, many things are being lost. There is first that thing that you use to remember with… what do you call it now… err…err… oh yes, memory. These days, I find that my memory is not what it used to be, like our president’s strength. Previously, I could remember the names of all the people throttling this country and holding it by the jugular. Now, I’m content to remember what I had for breakfast.

    Then, I have established beyond any doubt that Nigeria has lost her sanity. That is the only thing that can account for all the carryings-on within her walls. Just imagine, only insanity can explain the juxtaposition of extreme poverty endured by the majority in the land and having the highest number of private jets in the world enjoyed by Nigerian governors. Worse, none of them entered the government houses with the jets. Even worse, many of them cannot now pay their workers’ meagre salaries, yet they are unwilling to let go those jets. Worse…. I need not go on. However, know this; only total loss of sanity can warrant thugs beating up people who were merely reading the news considered unfavourable to the governor as happened in Osun State. That is a sign that we have lost it completely.

    This is why I can authoritatively and solemnly declare that Nigeria itself is lost. Somehow, between the flowing parachutes and the turbulence of the inter/intra-party fisticuff parlances, chair throwing jaw-jaws, swirling round-table talks and boiling turbulences arising from minor elections, everyone seems to have lost the country. Last time I looked, it was tucked in somewhere between the thick layers of starch on these parachutes but now, it’s not even there anymore. I tell you, things are going on around here, the most important of which is that everyone is busy promoting him/herself to superstardom and no one is considering the interests of the country.

    To start with, have you noticed how so many sirens have taken over our roads now? Seriously, on a particular day last week, the vehicle I was in was forced to give way to a siren-blaring convoy tagged ‘Oni-Something of Somewhere’ consisting of a Hilux outrider, the blessed vehicle and another one bringing up the rear. Along the same route, we were forced yet again to give way to a bullion van carrying gun-wielding policemen and any amount of money. I took solace in the fact that we are used to being pushed aside for money’s sake. Next day, my vehicle had to give way to what I can only conclude must have been the convoy of a politician – no name tag, only one or two black, evil looking jeeps roaring around the kingdom. There are so many convoys on the road, so much shoving and pushing of ordinary people and their poor cars, so much indifference to people’s dignity and esteem that I am inclined to believe that somewhere along the way, the soul of Nigeria has evaporated.

    It’s a little like the story of our folk tales in which someone is sent on a quest but ends up getting lost. Unfortunately, those sent in search of them also end up getting lost. Think the rather tragic story told in the film Saving Private Ryan in which the searchers end up getting more dead than the object of rescue. Think of the stories of Troy and Greece in which the rescuers end up suffering more than the bereaved. Now think of the tortoise who insisted on crying more than the lizard at the latter’s mother’s burial. Now, you’ve got the situation.

    Those we sent to rescue Nigeria have somehow contrived to get themselves lost and this is no laughing matter; for that matter, it is no crying matter either. Every one of our politicians in all the political parties has demonstrated nothing so far but naked greed for posts, positions and power – total loss of focus. With Nigeria lost in the power games and starched agbadas of her rescuers, we do have a situation.

    It seems to me that the Nigeria of our dreams must be retrieved from these agbadas by our collective voices. We must insist now on the country we want before it becomes permanently folded into those parachutes. We must find Nigeria.

  • Gaining perspective

    Gaining perspective begins when we realise that even the hottest ambitions still end on the deathbed; and many such beds are made hotter for the regrets that flow into them from lips confessing missed opportunities and wrong fisticuffs

    One foreign commentator said long ago that the sad thing about Africa is that her political leaders never seem to get the total picture: that they are expected to lift their countries up by leading the development drive. I added that the leaders apparently don’t even want to get the total picture, until they reach their deathbeds. Oh, you should visit some deathbeds — full of stories, confessions, or even fights with the Grimm Reaper – you know, that skeleton that myths say goes around with a scythe. So, like Sisyphus, people scream, ‘it is not yet my time; I have just been made a senator! It is not fair; can’t you take someone else who is poor?’ They might even attempt to bribe their way out, trust your Nigerian. So, most go protesting noisily, like Italian tenors forced to sing operas they hate. Very few go quietly or peaceably, like.

    For many, especially those who have held one position or the other, the deathbed is the time they suddenly become full of regrets about the opportunities and chances they squandered and frittered away in mundane bodily enjoyments or squabbles about trifles which do nothing for their communities, nation and the world. I say, that is when you hear them mutter with hoarse, dying lips, ‘Please, help me up so that I can write a check of restitution to the people…’

    Unfortunately, that is also the time that relatives in the form of children, nephews, nieces, friends, helpers, hangers on, strangers, etc., are many, and extra sharp. They are also especially cooperative with each other. Jointly, without any prompting, they hold the dying one down firmly on the bed and ask him to get some rest while they also hold the check as far from him as possible. Restitu ko, restiti ni, they mutter as the unearned, stolen billions fall on their strange laps. And when fortune falls indiscriminately on one’s laps, what is a man, or woman, to do?

    The reason, like you and I already know, is that more than ninety-nine per cent of Africa’s political leaders seek posts for the sake of it, and yes, to escape poverty. Who can blame anyone for wanting to escape the mercilessly grinding teeth of poverty? I can’t. The only problem now is that there is this vast field of socio-politico-economic development challenges gripping the average African, and our politicians are only stopping at helping themselves. I believe the main reason is this failure to gain the correct perspective.

    It’s easy to gain perspective. Let me illustrate. Once, this very busy motorist was stopped at a traffic point for exceeding the speed limit permitted on that road. After the policeman had told him the reason why he stopped him, the motorist was incredulous. ‘The earth is going round the sun at the velocity of 107,000 km/hr, and the solar system is moving round the galaxy at 901,000 km/hr; and you are booking me for driving at 60 km/hr in a 45 km/hr zone? Are you serious?’ Now, that is what I call perspective.

    Let me tell you what someone else did. This youngster had failed mathematics, and some other subjects. In fact, his report card appeared to be bad. Well, he took it to his dad and began the conversation. ‘Dad, what would you do if I had a life-threatening sickness?’ His father said he would have to run around getting the best medical help he could find; and that would naturally take a toll on his and the mother’s own health. ‘Would you have the money for it?’ Well, there is the insurance and the family savings, but we cannot know how far both will go. The father then became suspicious. Are you trying to tell me something? Do you have a life-threatening disease? The young one replied that what he was about to tell him should be put in its proper perspective, considering he, the son, was thankfully in good health and sound mind.

    Yes, you are right. The life of the country is hanging in the balance, grown men and famous fathers are fighting in the House of Representatives and here I am running around with my usual jokes. Never mind. The point we are making is that gaining perspective requires one to take in the entire picture. Take Nigeria and our politicians as an example. Do they have the whole picture of the place of their country in the world in their view? I would say not quite. If they did, they would know they have an enormous task before them but too many of them are too easily satisfied with obtaining and enjoying their material gains, hence the fisticuffs.

    If our politicians had a true perspective of their role as the nation’s leaders, I do not think members of the House of Representatives would have taken to using fists to settle points in the view of the entire nation. I do not also think that a politician would desperately take thugs to the courthouse to intimidate court witnesses or judges as has been happening in Ekiti State. I do not think any politician would consider the life of someone else so worthless that it can be sacrificed ritually or metaphorically to their ambition. I do not think that any politician would actively seek to promote two nations in one Nigeria: the nation of the haves who trample on the rights of others, and the nation of the have nots whose rights are trampled upon. I say, if Nigerian politicians had a true perspective of their role, the crisis precipitated by the elections in the national assembly would not exist.

    Let’s wax a little philosophical here. I have always held that there are three basic things a man would do well to remember that he can choose: to live well (in contentment), to do his best (in strength), and to die well (in peace). Don’t bring up any objections now; just accept. Thank you.

    It will not do to begin to seek to write a check of restitution on one’s deathbed to the millions of Nigerians that have been defrauded by one’s diversionary antics. Many have sought, in vain, to return such stolen opportunities (whether in funds, positions or objects) because they have caused greater losses in the end. Too late, they realised that nature is one wicked paymaster: what is taken by force or contrivance, nature will deduct by force or contrivance.

    It is important that each Nigerian, to the last man, bears the whole picture in mind. To seek the development of the entire landscape of Nigeria where everyone can have access to basic things that make life possible – affordable food, shelter and clothing – is the responsibility of everyone. It is important then that we all should seek to lift off the veils of religion, tribe or language which are hanging in front of all of us and determining our many actions. For instance, I have noticed that nearly all the appointments made so far by our president have been of people from his corner of the earth. That should not be so because the corners missed out in appointments or opportunities are only several boko haram spots waiting to happen in future. As the father of all, the president is expected to ensure that no corner of the country is left behind.

           Gaining perspective begins when we realise that even the hottest ambitions still end on the deathbed; and many such beds are made hotter for the regrets that flow into them from lips confessing missed opportunities and wrong fisticuffs. As passing ships on this benighted earth, let us all, our politicians especially, get our perspectives right on the whole picture: which is to help the country gain earthly paradise.

  • The Achilles’ heel of a country

    The Achilles’ heel of a country

    I suspect the people are getting tired of a police unit existing in name as the de jure strength of the nation but which constantly allows itself to be showcased as the de facto Achilles’ heel of the nation

    Yes, dear people, Nigeria has done it again: it has written its name in the universal book of infamy once more. This time, it did it through the antics of a daring female teenager who led an armed gang to lay a brazen, crude and openly defiant siege on a bank in Lagos and rob it blind – for as much as eighty or so million Naira! The news report gave further details which I am certain will be denied or corroborated very soon, but which are difficult to believe. There are two things here. First is the effect of unemployment on the people and second is the response (or lack of it) from the police. We will address the first later. Today, let us take the second.

    The fact that the police were said not to have responded to this brazen attack on the country is disheartening. Let me hasten to tell you that it is not an easy thing to be accosted by gun wielding robbers. I believe the mind just seizes up on you. Most times it is not so much out of fear as out of anger, that someone who refuses to put his back and arms to work to earn a living would sooner pick a gun and put it in the face of another human being than pick a shovel. And that’s why we have the police. At such times, we call them up to use their supernatural powers to discourage people like that.

    Last week, however, that organ was said to have failed us in the hour of trial. According to news reports, some of the robbers had first scared away the policemen in the police station right across the street from the bank by shooting at them. Then the shooters remained outside while the siege on the bank lasted. During that time, it was said, the few remaining policemen had taken refuge somewhere. I am so hoping this account is not true, and that sometime soon, someone will come up with a better story to bolster the people’s confidence in the police.

    Not that the police have invested much in the people’s confidence. Sometime in the week, I was listening to a radio programme, which took in calls from listeners, on whether the army should really be taken off check points. It shook me to hear many of the negative comments from the public on their police. Some said they could not trust a police that asks complainants to pay one hundred thousand Naira ‘to facilitate running around’ in order to investigate a complaint. Many lamented the fact that the police are too used to collecting ‘twenty Naira’ from people for them to be effective at checkpoints; they just might go and collect that twenty Naira from a bomber.

    But I ask: are our Nigeria Police content and happy with the dilapidated image they have garnered over time? Why then are they not making any efforts to do something about it, all to a man? From the news report on the assault on the bank, not one person even attempted to accost these robbers either by force or stealth. We all know that it’s not all the time that force of arms actually works in emergencies; some situations demand mind games and contest of wills, personalities and intellect. When these are put to use, they can prove superior to bullets and guns. It is also when that happens that heroes are born, although they can also die. The fact that we have no heroes in this story means that no one was willing to try these. (Whisper) I think they were running away from the reality that, somehow, Nigerian heroes wind up dead.

    Seriously, this reluctance by Nigerian policemen to do their jobs is truly scary, considering that everyone believes they have the nation behind them. They carry the nation’s power anyway. This authority should have been brought to play during that siege, not after, as the reports gave. The reports said that about an hour after the event, there were many police vehicles and men besieging the place you would think it was another problem. They had come to assess the crime scene. I had an experience like that too, but I will not regale your ears with that story now.

    What then might be responsible for this timidity? The reason I ask is that I suspect the people are getting tired of a police unit existing in name as the de jure strength of the nation but which constantly allows itself to be showcased as the de facto Achilles’ heel of the nation. I think someday, they will bring down the house. You remember the dogs feeding on a little boy and the police looking on? Or the crowd frenzy that killed some students while the police looked on? Ah ha!

    I don’t know, but you might cite reasons such as insufficient armoury, or insufficient training, or insufficient funds to run the unit, or even insufficient morale. Me, I would cite the fact that this country is completely messed up and no one knows who is doing anyone’s work anymore, or what effect anyone’s action may have on others. Wherever you have a compromised political leadership as we have had in the last sixteen years, there is often a tendency for people to take the law into their hands and for others to throw up theirs.

    I think the general belief is that the gradual descent of the police into the state we witnessed last week has been caused by their involvement in the political games of the unconscionable politicians that have run the country from the very beginning, including the colonial period. There has been no political dispensation that has not used the police for awkward purposes, beginning from the colonial times. Professionalism in the police came dead on arrival.

    Professionalism needs to be brought to play so that policemen can earn the respect they require to function. Crime has gone up several notches in sophistication so the police need to be brought up to date in crime fighting. What is said to have happened last week represents the lowest point of our shame. We can swallow that. What we cannot swallow is doing nothing and going back to business as usual as if nothing happened. I think that is the real crime for which we will need that young female to come and bail the country out by leading us in the fight against crime. Talking seriously, we need to get the police to step up.

    P.S. – Give that list already.

    I am adding this postscript to share my amusement with you. I listened to the reason given by one of the president’s media men on why the release of the cabinet list is delayed. He said something to the effect that the president was taking his time because he did not want to have to sack someone almost immediately after engaging him or her. Frankly, I laughed. In short, he did not want to make any mistakes in his choice.

    I have always quoted the saying that the only person not making any mistake is standing still. Well, that’s what the president is doing right now. But if he will end up appointing human beings and not angels or Martians, then he should just do it and hope to God he gets it right. Believe me, as long as there are only humans on earth, some of those to be appointed will turn out to be monsters, serious mistakes, perfect, good, mediocre, unnameable, etc. Sir, close your eyes, say a prayer and give that list already.

  • The sum of all our hopes and frustrations

    Nigerians had hoped to kick corruption doorwards if not outdoors since the general consensus seems to be that politicians have turned the national treasury into a sort of Aladdin’s cave to which they alone have the password, key and right of entry and have denied every other Nigerian the same right to enter

    I do not know what the Revenue Mobilisation Allocation and Fiscal Commission is thinking by allocating these huge sums of money for the national assembly allowances; nor do I know what the assembly is thinking by accepting it. From news reports, I read that our senators are to enjoy N24m and the federal representatives are to enjoy about N20m as allowances and emoluments every month or is it every quarter now, I hardly know which. Whichever one it is, it is bad.

    These crazy sums are especially gruesome considering the financial situation of the country right now when we are borrowing to eat. I think the actual truth is that the collective national thinking outrightly condemned those sums as totally unreasonable a long time ago. The last national assembly nevertheless went ahead to enjoy them against our better sentiments. And now, because we the people did not insist then, the ugly problem has reared its head again. What is worse, from news commentaries, it is said that our assembly men and women insist on collecting their emoluments before they even sit. I think the common parlance for this is upfront. Haba! Which one of us gets his/her salary before working in this country?

    I honestly do not know what all these huge sums are about, and what work they really compensate for. Are they supposed to reward work done on behalf of the country, such as physically carrying it on their shoulders like the legendary Atlas is said to be doing carrying the world year in, year out? I think teachers are already doing that; masons such as bricklayers are doing that too, and they do not get anything near .0000000005 per cent of that sum. I also think that roadside labourers, construction engineers, geologists, housewives, etc., who break sweat working for hours under the hot sun, you know, ordinary people like you and me, are already doing that and they are not paid anything near that sum.

    Indeed, after working for hours on end under the hot sun, some are not even paid at all. I know graduates in professional fields who have toiled under the sun for years carrying this nation till they are almost hunched in the back. For their pay, they have been told ‘come back tomorrow.’ For many of them, tomorrow has not come. There are yet others who are middling in circumstances you and I cannot even begin to imagine, hovels at best, and paid near to nothing.

    Yes, there are many states and local governments which have not been able to pay their civil service workers, teachers, etc., because of supposed shortages, even as we speak. There are people whose earnings are not even as structured as those of civil servants and who look on the latter with envy. You know because they mutter things like, ‘at least someone is owing you; one day, he’ll pay you. What about me; who is going to pay me?’ You’ve guessed it; those are called the unemployed. Unfortunately, some of our honourable assembly members were once in that category.

    Let me tell you the sum of our hopes. By electing Buhari as president, the honourable members of this country had kind of hoped to use these four years to at least be able to kick corruption doorwards, if not downright outdoors. The general consensus seems to be that politicians have turned the national treasury into a sort of Aladdin’s cave to which they alone have the password, key and right of entry and have denied every other Nigerian the same right to enter. Seriously, awarding lawmakers a wardrobe allowance of N1.7/1.4m for senators and federal representatives respectively does not show much hope for our hope. Indeed, you can say that those gruesome sums sum up our hopelessness.

    That is why I want to ask myself a series of questions. Whatever happened to patriotism, vision, nation building, love of one’s country, sacrifice or selflessness? Yep, the fact that I am asking myself these questions does not necessarily mean I have the answers. You find your own answers. For one thing, I believe that patriotism seems to have travelled and left the country denuded; it has left it bereft of men of ideas, vision and goodwill. Only men of wood are left to take charge of the affairs of the country.

    Sorry to say this, but there are too many politicians who have nothing to offer the country by way of tangible ideas except to collect these huge sums for their personal enjoyment. Many only go to mark their presence in the chambers; many are said not to show up for much of the year. Many there are too, whose main preoccupation seems to be organising themselves into caucuses to determine outcomes of motions, bills and who goes into juicy committees to bring ‘something home’. Their days are spent holding endless meetings determining ‘outcomes’. For instance I read in the news that oil barons and the like, the very people killing the country, jumped on board the senate president elections. Yep, their oily hands were in it; and that comes with all kinds of implications. Yet, these politicians are paid the princely sums we have been talking about. I tell you, those sums represent the sum of all our frustrations.

    So, what happens to all our hopes of effectively getting rid of corruption soonest? I believe it is alive. All you have to do is do a travelogue into social media and you will get a feel of the people’s thinking. People are not fazed by what is happening. Without ever having sat together at a meeting, it is as if they have come to an agreement that they are only giving Buhari’s government a chance to clean up this mess, and others such as the purchase of unneeded jets by governors, before going on to the next course of action. What that is?  I don’t know, maybe to spontaneously combust; I am not people. It appears though that the people are determined not to be frustrated for too long.

    As we said on this column a few weeks ago, our greater disappointment is in the NLC who has a big enough reason to call us, the workers, out in the matter of these gargantuan assembly emoluments. The failure to stem unreasonable executive and legislative spending years ago has resulted in the failure we are witnessing today – inability to pay workers.

    The other body, the Revenue Mobilisation Allocation and Fiscal Commission (RMAFC), which is said to be responsible for fixing these wages in the first place, clearly has some explaining to do. It needs to explain to the nation its generative formulae that enabled it reach this unheard of conclusion. Otherwise, we would be forced to ask again, what were they thinking?

    Definitely, I don’t think Nigerians are taking this matter lightly this time. Apart from those talking about a peaceful revolution, some have organised themselves into protest groups. The first of such groups has called on the assembly on a courtesy visit to lay down its grievance, you know, just like the mafia does. Typically, the mafia people first tell you, smilingly, how unhappy they are with a problem which only you can eliminate. The next step will eliminate the smile.

    Before we call in the mafia-style sleight of hand, I think it is time for us to seriously begin to talk about part-time politicians. Someone muted the idea a while back and it has caught on with me. How about you? That may just pull us out of the sum of these sticky jams.

  • Law and (Dis)order

    Mr. Buhari, a people’s man, may be president, but Nigerian politicians are still sharing things. They are still sharing the nation, partitioning it among themselves like slices of cake. They are old wine in new bottles. My problem is that I think Mr. President believes these politicians are part of the people

    Honestly, this is laughable’, was a commentator’s take concerning the elections that took place in the senate which saw the emergence of Senator Bukola Saraki as Senate President. The commentator was speaking on the radio. He said more but that was what struck me most. Certainly, the affair was no joke; yet, it managed to elicit laughter, and sadness and tears and what not, in many of us. To the commentator, it was simply inconceivable that a group of people who were supposed to attend their own inauguration on a certain day decided rather to hold an intraparty meeting, at the same hour the event was scheduled to begin! Seriously?!

    Actually, when you think comedy materials are about drying up, something happens to pull us out of the dry rot. First came Buhari’s belonging to everybody and nobody which everyone understood alright but which fed our comedians’ funny bones. They went to town with it and took it viral. Then came this latest comedy: senators deciding to go and do a last minute meeting hoping their seats would keep warming for them. Naturally, someone shaved their heads for them in their absence.

    Many people have been crying foul over the election of senate officials, especially the aggrieved party, APC. Naturally; I would too. I notice though that the party is not basing its anger on the legality or illegality of the action. I would not either. Though not a lawyer, I believe that the election was somewhat lawful. I would say that the principal actors in the matter took care to work within the law. The party could therefore only anchor its anger on the fact that its wishes were not respected.

    Actually, that’s the argument that has been raging. Once elected, who does an individual owe his allegiance to: his party, which fosters his election, the people, who vote him in, or his conscience, which constitutes his integrity? This is one of the questions that accompany civilisation. In the not so civilised times, this was no issue. People simply decided they were willing to sacrifice themselves to the public good by going into public office. They also held cudgels in their hands to convince recalcitrant electorates. Thereafter, they did not owe anyone anything, only those with bigger cudgels.

    Now, with civilisation have come political parties, made up of people who gather together to build political machines that automatically make people. This is why it is called the party machine. It makes people. It also gobbles people up. It provides the means and machinery for getting mostly wrong people elected into office; that’s why they need the machine anyway. It also explains why most people prefer to listen to and obey the party rather than the electorate or their consciences. Just think of the alternative – going around with cudgels which are bound to wear out, so forcing one to get more and more cudgels…

    Anyway, let’s get back to the matter. I believe that the clerk has confirmed that a quorum was formed on the day of the election, and every other order was observed. I think that seals the legality of the event. The problem is that constitutions have a habit of being general sometimes. They go something like this: a quorum shall have been formed when two-thirds of the members would have gathered in from their homes, toilets, girlfriends’ and boyfriends’ houses, kitchens, and so on. Unfortunately, those blessed constitutions are typically silent on matters such as the nature of that gathering, e.g. how many of that quorum shall be female or male; how many shall be morally good or bad; how many shall be of one party or the other; what the maximum number of the psychiatrically unsound shall be allowed in, and so on. I think this last is important; too many organizations have too many mentally cuckoo land lubbers these days. So, in that senate election, I think the law was satisfied.

    I do notice though that our legal luminaries have been pointing out that the senators’ election that day was either morally questionable or downright fraudulent. The problem with arguing on morality is that every issue has too many sides. An action that is morally corrupt in one situation may be slightly admissible in another. That is why it is difficult (though not improbable) to use morality as a yardstick to judge legal matters. And this is a legal matter.

    What we should rather be raising dust over, and this is what really bugs me, is why the APC senators-elect chose the hour of their inauguration to hold a party or party meeting (what really is the difference?) That is what is disorderly. There are conflicting stories on how this sorry state came to be. One says the senators had been summoned to a meeting by the president in order to resolve the impasse regarding the party’s senate president candidate. Another report says the senators decided to hold a meeting at that hour preceding the inauguration so that they could all speak with one voice. I think that was what caused the radio commentator’s laughter. Hmm; the party machine for you.

     Anyhow, at the inauguration hour, the APC senators were not on their seats, literally, not just like your Nigerian ‘not on seat’; but come to think of it, neither was the president. And this is where the story gets a little sticky. There are also reports that the president had sent a message to the clerk of the house that his deputy would deputise for him, literally. So you see, these stories just don’t add up, not that I’m too strong on mathematics. In fact, you could say my mathematics is stronger on me than I am on it. But really, I don’t get this situation at all.

    The president is a very busy man, especially now that he is trying to put back on track a highly ruptured country. No one appreciates that more than I do. Yet, given that the national assembly is a very important part of our governing process, it seems that the president could have spared some minutes to build himself some goodwill among the assembly members and declared the proceedings open himself. Altogether, the party ought not to have scheduled a meeting for that hour, if it is indeed true that it did.

    I learnt from the assembly elections a few disheartening facts. Mr. Buhari, a people’s man, may be president, but Nigerian politicians are still sharing things. They are still sharing the nation, partitioning it among themselves like slices of cake. They are old wine in new bottles. My problem is that I think Mr. President believes the politicians are part of the people. He needs to watch out; they are not. They are in the business of trying to own Nigeria. To me, that is what is truly laughable, because if they really want to know who owns Nigeria, they should come back in fifty years time and ask.

    So, we can conclude, from the smart way the elections were conducted and concluded, that there is still an unknown force, cabal or group that is ruining, sorry, ruling Nigeria, and we have not run far enough away from them. The voice is indeed the people’s; they have spoken by electing Buhari. But the hairy hand is decidedly that of Esau with some wily politicians attached at the other end. I can only warn the new collective leadership of the country that revolutions are never planned; they just happen, and usually conditions breed them, for example, when leaders think they own the state. That is when the people’s voice becomes loud.

  • The task before NLC

    I actually expected the NLC to have taken serious umbrage when the news broke some two years ago that Nigeria was keeping the most expensive parliament. I thought the indignation should have come out as one instantly and collectively delivered expletive, complete with a compliment of phlegm: What the…!

    I was flabbergasted to hear that the outgoing National Assembly managed to pass 40 bills in 10 minutes. I have tried to come up with all kinds of excuses for it. They must have been working on those bills all the four years, and those things probably needed only minor adjustments to make them ripe, and that ripeness came right about…last week. I can just see the assembly men now, all in their starched and flowing agbada, sitting in their plush assembly chairs that sooooooooooooo fill me with envy, wiping their 25 million-Naira-a-month-manicured and pedicured brows as they hastily flipped over the bills, and exhaling their long held breath into one giant ‘Phew’!

    The country however is not exhaling. It can’t. Our breaths are drawn in as we inhale in bewilderment, wondering what we needed the men for in the first place. I could have passed the bills, right on to my neighbor, who would then pass them on. What greater passing do you need? Seriously, though, what is the record in other countries? Since Nigeria has the poorest record in maternal death, infancy death, life expectancy, yet with the highest paid parliament, it is good to ask what the record is. The parliamentarian payout is also why the rest of the country has palpitations, both in its collective hearts and finances.

    The most astounding thing is that these assembly men do not perceive any contradictions in this interesting scenario. They are still jaunting around the globe, they and their families, like there is no tomorrow. Actually, it does appear as if there will be no tomorrows for the country, particularly when it comes to fuel subsidies.

    There have been so many arguments for and against fuel subsidy removals over the decades. In fact, it does feel like the arguments have been going on forever. The way it is now, it might be wise for mothers to make it their duty to tell their infants-at-arms first thing that now they have come into the world, and Nigeria in particular, it would be wise for them to know that there is a raging argument on over the removal of fuel subsidy: to be (removed) or not to be (removed). So, the infants will do well to quickly make up their minds where they belong on the subject. Silly, isn’t it? Just like a book I read in which an entire kingdom went into a debate on whether to break an egg at the front end or the rear end. I tell you, it had the entire kingdom divided down the middle into front-enders and rear-enders. So now, we are going to have our infants growing up as either Tobeans (subsidy removal men) or Nottobeans (subsidy retainer men).

    Anyway, going by national records, there has always been one powerful body standing firmly in the way of subsidy removal: the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC). In fact, the body is such a strong Nottobean that it had the entire country queuing up behind it to protest against the Tobeans. And it worked, with a little loss of face, but it worked. Now, the argument is picking up momentum again and now everyone is pitching his/her tent yet again on either side. This time, we do not know where the NLC will lead us but I have a take on the matter.

    I know there are countries where there is no oil subsidy. Fuel is sold at the market forces by the procurers. You must grant though that in those countries, everyone lays their cards on the table. Their parliamentarians do not use a quarter of the country’s gross earnings as their own unearned, unneeded earnings. Their presidents or prime ministers use the same means of transport like anyone else, not maintain fleets of convoys that mow the people down as those ones try to grope their ways through the mazes of poverty and want on the streets. No sir, the children of the leaders in those countries also attend the schools next door; not some select ‘oberseas’ schools of privilege. Need I go on?

    Until we retrieve the country from the hands of the wasters so that we know exactly where we are, we are not qualified to talk about fuel subsidy removal. And this is where the NLC comes in. NLC has been known to be an umbrella body for workers across the country, in the forefront on the struggle for the welfare of its members. It has struggled for a higher minimum wage for workers. It also employed its fight mechanism in the struggle against subsidy removal. I actually expected this same body to have taken serious umbrage when the news broke some two or three years ago that Nigeria was keeping the most expensive parliament and one of the lowest-paid working groups in the world. I thought the indignation should have come out as one instantly and collectively delivered expletive, complete with a compliment of phlegm: What the…!

    Nothing came. So today, that parliament worked out its term and, on their way out, delivered us two, no three, slaps. One, the senate passed 40 bills in ten minutes flat at its last sitting as we said above, according to news reports. It seriously begs the question: what had been going on all the while the sessions were on? The House of Representatives could not even rally its own members to a sufficient number at the last sitting, according to more reports. You have to agree that forty-something is a far cry in sufficiency from two hundred and something.

    The second thing came in the form of a stupendous severance package slapped on a country made up of the poorest of the poor. The executive and legislature severing themselves from national affairs would collectively collect a pay running into billions of Naira. And I think they are less than five hundred in all. And I asked two questions. One, does this money even mean anything to anybody any more? It is obvious that our politicians ceased to respect the naira a long time ago, after helping to bring it on its knees and sink it in the mud. The second question is: if the country pays that money, does it guarantee that we will never hear anything about these people or even hear their names mentioned anymore? The reason is that it is very obvious that these men and women do not have any love of the country in their hearts. The only romance they know comes through rubbing the jingling coins in their pockets. So yes, we do not want to hear their names anymore.

    The third slap came when some politicians/local government chairmen who served for one term only began to ask that they be given a pension. Now, that’s awkward, I thought. I remember clearly when the 1999 assembly fixed an outrageous emolument for itself (nothing like the present one). It was so irritating to people that the assembly then had to explain that it had built in some kind of pension for itself and everyone went, which pension, for what work? But people kept quiet, for the sake of peace. So, it sounded very strange that the same parliament, mere new wine, would be asking to be paid a pension! That’s like a fish asking for retirement benefits from the angler for allowing itself to be caught.

    Anyway, the task before the NLC is quite clear. Its job is not only to ask for benefits and welfare; its job also includes helping the country gain some kind of fiscal sanity by ensuring that emoluments are in tune with reality. It must cry out against all over-the-bar spendings.

  • Congratulations, Mr. President, but just where are you going to start from?

    Congratulations, Mr. President, but just where are you going to start from?

    At your first coming, you ruled by decrees; you cannot do that now, much as you will be tempted. You must now find ways of persuading people about the rightness of your action and how beneficial it will be for them to swallow the bitter pill you are about to shove down their throat

    I don’t know if you have noticed this trend but these days, there seems to be a great deal of emphasis on the dancing put up by brides and grooms at wedding receptions. It is such a serious competition between bride and groom that no one is in any doubt that some rehearsals have gone into it. Just imagine this scenario; while preparations are on, the young ones are busy practicing their dancing steps!

    A friend confided that once, when she attended a wedding, she found herself watching the bride’s exhilarated dancing and she could not help shed tears for her. My friend said she cried because she was sure that the couple had no idea of the bitter experiences waiting for them in the new marriage. Rather an extreme view, don’t you think?

    Nevertheless, one cannot help but be distrustful of the euphoria greeting the coming of the new leader of Nigeria, President Muhammadu Buhari. Nearly every corner you go to now, there are cheering notes in the air and congratulatory songs on the lips on account of THE RETURN OF GMB, a man we all turned down in 2011, as the 5th president of Nigeria.

    I guess many things are responsible for this euphoria. They say if one does not try two things, he/she cannot really tell which is better. I think that is the philosophy behind all competitions: sports, cooking, marriage, etc. It is useless for a man to stand atop a hill, thump his chest and declare that he is the best husband the world has ever seen. I think he would need to pit his skills against other husbands who would be miffed enough to challenge him. Ditto for a woman, or indeed, a president.

    I am sorry, dear reader, that I could not join you at Abuja to cheer in the new president. Even if I could, I suspect that I would not have been a good compliment of that cheering crowd. The surveillance camera might have caught me standing in one corner bawling out, like my friend, in great pity for the man. You see, I would have convinced myself that this man does not quite know what he is letting himself in for. How on earth is he going to fix Nigeria? Indeed, where will he start from?

    As we said here last week, the economic pot of the country has been scraped burnt right down to the bottom, either by accident or design. The only reason that Nigeria still appears to be standing is that the government is the major employer of labour; the private sector has since been consigned to the back burner. Therefore, the government can afford to borrow from internal and external sources to pay salaries, something the private sector cannot do. This thus means that we as a nation are living beyond our means.

    On account of the fact that the private sector has been disabled and most of the work force loaded onto the government, it means that there is no real productivity on which the economy can rest on in the country. This is the result of the country’s tolerance of the years of the locusts, when we all watched on as the devourers, who began to drift in from the Obasanjo era and swarmed in large droves in the Jonathan era, gorge themselves into stupors. The economy is now bedraggled, tottering around in tatters, and looking for real-time, real-life productivity, not playing-to-the-gallery claims of productivity. Would the new president start from there?

     Perhaps, he will start from the rather intractable energy problem which has allowed some unconscionable individuals to grip the nation’s throat. I hear all kinds of things now. I hear there is a conspiracy between generator makers and retailers and gas vandals to keep the nation in perpetual darkness. This means that should the new president turn his attention to the energy sector, he would have to break this vice ring. God help him. I am also waiting to say God bless him should he succeed.

     Or, would he start from the oily problem we have on our hands? The country desperately needs to recover from the slump in oil prices, and at the same time reexamine our consumption of the stuff, and how it is we are not putting our money where our mouth is; i.e., we are importing what we are consuming. I think he wants to examine our refinery records and just who it is that has been planted to throw spanners into the machines as soon as they get going to make those refineries stop working. It’s sabotage; I say it is sir, and the new president might want to take up arms against the foes there. But he would need ten heads to do that because nine of them will be cut off and hopefully, they’ll run out of steam before the tenth is completely off.

    Then there is the problem of the voracious appetite of the national assembly. The upper level of the country has been used to living beyond the means of the country. I think they think it is their divine duty or something. This will not do; it cannot stand. How this will be achieved is the job of The Persuaders. You never heard of them? Oh my! It’s that group of people who go around with special briefcases. They will politely tell these people that less than 0.000000000000000000001 per cent of the country’s population cannot keep eating up 25 per cent of the gross income in the name of lawmaking. For the sake of our national health, The Persuaders must be brought in to work their mathematical magic of deductions and inductions and wisdom based on convincing evidences. By the time they are through, we won’t have this problem again. Oh yes, it can be done. Now that the oil business is not as lucrative as before, we must look our empty treasury squarely in the eye and deal with it.

    Congratulations, Mr. President. I am happy for you for one reason: you achieved your ambition to return in triumph a second time to govern this troublesome country. I am sure there is no need to tell you that the Nigeria of your first coming is nothing like the Nigeria of this your second coming. Things are different. For one thing, literacy is slightly higher. This means that there are now more people who can read, write and give stupid comments on things they are completely ignorant about.

    At your first coming, you ruled by decrees; you cannot do that now, much as you will be tempted I’m sure. You must now find ways of persuading people about the rightness of your action and how beneficial it will be for them to swallow the bitter pill you are about to shove down their throat. This means you have to talk, smile at, laugh and cry with the people, especially when they are hurting, like now.

    More importantly, as president of the country, you must realise you are the father, mother, brother, sister, uncle and aunt of the nation made up of tall and short members, black and light-skinned, Christians, Muslims, animists, fire, stone and sun worshippers, traders, soldiers, teachers, children, adults, thieves, rogues, robbers, murderers, and all sundry things. You must learn how to treat all equally, fairly and justly. I assure you that your coming is not accidental; it is ordained. This means you will be held responsible. Good luck. No, that’s gone now; all the best.