The Nation Newspaper

Category: Oyinkan Medubi

  • As we ring out the old year…

    Christmas is gone but the bleakness remains to close the year for us; though I must say it is a hard bell to ring out the year with

    In a few days, the bells will ring for year 2014 to take a bow and exit the stage, and for another to take its place. As usual, a great deal of fanfare attends this change of baton, which begins with the celebration of Christmas. Quite early in the season, for many of us though, Christmas had promised indeed to be a bleak time of it if there was no supernatural intervention. First, though, my own story; it’s a long one but I will cut it short.

    It all began about eleven days to Christmas. We were all sitting quietly in our house of an evening minding our own business and enjoying what little electricity we were given by PHCN (or whatever name they go by now) out of the kindness of their heart, when there was a sudden explosion. We would have put it down to a tyre blow-out or a quarry action if the thing had not coincided with a power cut as we were promptly dumped into pitch-black darkness. That sounds like its coming from the transformer, commented someone from a corner of the dark room, and that means trouble. Why must you put the worst construction on every sound?, someone else asked, obviously trying to stifle her own fears; for all you know, it might well be the top-floor swimming pool of that neighbourhood rich man deciding to come down to street level.

    Actually, that’s another story. I also did not know that it was possible to situate a swimming pool on the top floor of a three-story building; but there you are; only those who have money know how to spend it I guess. Anyway, the fears of our pessimist were confirmed the next day when electricity was not only not restored, a nasty and wild rumour began to spread through the neighbourhood in the route where electricity used to take: there would not be any energy for a while: the transformer had been damaged. TEN DAYS TO CHRISTMAS?, I shrieked. Whoever heard of such a thing? So, while others are singing ‘On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…’ song, I would be singing ‘On the eleventh day of Christmas, PHCN sent to me…’ Imagine that!

    In place of help, only a story spread. A very disrespectful animal, we were told, had run violently into the transformer structure, damaging some parts and managing only to get itself thrown out violently too. Fortunately or unfortunately, the blessed thing was not killed, only stunned, as neighbours reported that the thing got up and walked away after a while. Pity, I thought, at least the neighbours might have been compensated for the darkness they would have to endure as the darkness continued relentlessly into the coming days.

    That was when we heard others tell of their experiences. In their neighbourhood, said one, when the transformer conked out, we had to wait for three months to get light again. Another reported that each house had to contribute money in thousands to get a new one. Someone asked us: is there no rich man in your neighbourhood who can get one for himself and then make you people his parasites?

    Indeed, Christmas was but a mere one day away when, with the combined efforts of the concerned consumers led by our pessimist and the (now gallant) PHCN men who looked to me like Fathers Christmas attending to my wish, the flow of electricity was restored right as the neck of Christmas began to peep in. Phew, it was a close one! I hate to think about the many other neighbourhoods where the entire body of Christmas would pull in, feet and all, and there would be no electricity to even light their ways to the kitchen: due to some errant, stupidly playful goat or cow or act of the devil. I sincerely hope such neighbourhoods find respite soon. Now, in my neighbourhood at least, we are back to abnormality: i.e., a constantly interrupted flow of electricity, thank God. Obviously, when the almighty said let there be light, he did not have Nigeria’s PHCN in mind.

    While the uncertainties about the electricity lasted, another shocking piece of news emerged early in the month. It would be a bleak Christmas indeed for many of my countrymen and women because salaries would be delayed or unpaid on account of the downturn in the economy. Now, when I heard that, it felt like a horror story titled ‘The return of Job.’ He it was who was reputed to have said that that, which he feared most, had befallen him. For us the people, it simply meant that that which the government promised to do, it had begun to do. Remember that it had promised that salaries would immediately become irregular on account of the downturn? Well!

    We have said it before, and I think it needs reiterating here, that it feels a little unfair and sad that the salaries of workers should be the first place of call for the government when faced with cuts in revenue. Honestly, I have wondered aloud why this should be and I have received no education on the matter. Indeed, the silence following my questions on the matter has been truly deafening. Why are people’s jumbo pays not attacked?

    I soon had some experience of what the nation’s finance team promised when the minister said that hard times awaited us in the country. Reality really dawned when I went through the banks. It was only on a fact-finding mission, I assure you, since most of what I have can be carried on my person. That reminds me of a joke.

    You know those stereotype jokes? Well, this one is targeting several groups at once. There was this rustic just come into town, a real Mr. Deeds. Well, what does he do but go and fall into the hands of robbers who beat him black and blue to get at his pocket. Naturally, your rural fellow put up a spirited fight but he was outnumbered and out-techniqued by the city thieves. When the robbers eventually got at what he had in his pocket, they were so disgusted they flung it back at him and sternly rebuked him. ‘You mean you put up this big fight just to save your three dollars?’ ‘Naaaa’, replied he, ‘I thought you were after the one hundred and fifty dollars I had hidden in my shoe’. Like I said, most of what I have can be carried on my person.

    Anyway, since I know that most people do not use shoes to hold money any more but banks, Christmas time is always a tedious time for bankers and clients. What was my surprise then when I stepped into some banking halls and found I could quite well have driven my car in without hindrance. Where normally you could find nowhere to put one foot after another in some of the halls because of the press of customers, there was ample space. The crowd was just not there. It was true what people had been whispering then:  it would be a bleak Christmas indeed because many salaries were missing.

    Well, Christmas is gone but the bleakness remains to close the year for us; though I must say it is a hard bell to ring out the year with. So, as we ring out the old year and make room for the new one, I just want to give you two wishes. I want to wish you strength to see the year through, fighting for what’s in your pocket and your shoes. I also wish that no errant goat will cross your path, or your transformer.

  • Is it true what they say that the black man’s heart is black?

    In time, we will all understand the modern system and stop carting off our resources to the West for the greater comfort of the already comfortable

    It is customary that when the year is coming to an end, people of all senses and sensibilities sit down to take stock: what has been gained, and what has been lost in the year. So it is with this column. We must sit down now to count our blessings, then cut our losses. First, I want to say that here on this column, we have gained a lot of friends. Some of our friends have proved to be ardent ones, you know the kind that stay by you through thick and thin, through sick and sin.

    These ones have faithfully kept faith with us in rain and shine. They have constantly sent text messages of smiling, gentle encouragements, or nodding, fervent agreements as something or other that I had said agreed with their stomachs like their lunch. They have equally given me head-shaking, acute disagreements at something I had said which left their stomachs churning. I have truly enjoyed the friendship of Amos Ejimonye; Simon Oladapo; Charles Iyoha; Fola Aiyegbusi; Odumegwu Onwumere; and many more who have, week in, week out, let me know just how I am doing. I must also mention Mr. Sola who declared that he reads me last each Sunday after other columnists on the paper ‘would’ve dealt his heart damaging blows’ in order to laugh at our unserious selves with me. Thank you all for not laughing at me; and I hope our friendship continues yet.

    Many yet have frowned deeply at the unusual style I adopt of mixing serious issues with humour. I have begged these ones repeatedly not to be annoyed with me. There are many things that cannot be hidden in this world: pregnancy, joy and laughter; they will out, do what you may. So, when I have the laughter bubbling up from somewhere in my nether regions, believe me, it would be easier to prevent Caeser from dying than to prevent it from coming up to the surface. Besides, many people have seriously thought themselves into early graves on the Nigerian contradictions. I have rather chosen to laugh and live. Now, where’s the crime?

    I have also made some friendly enemies too. Some of my readers have violently shaken their heads at my views, mild as they are, or my style, urbane they all agree. These have rained down some kind vituperation on my innocent bushy head, thinking that the artist’s impression of me looks like me. Some have even gone as far as doubting the originality of my prose. Hmmm! What can I say to these ones except yes, everything is original to me and when I have used someone else’s prose, I have taken pains to demarcate it in quotation marks, indented it or plainly acknowledged that I stole it.

    Just take a good look at the drama that has been enacting in the national assembly with all the carpet-crossing and re-crossing and re-re-crossing! Tell me, what should ordinary folks like me do: cry or bellow? Just look at the state of Nigerian roads, the only viable way of moving people and goods across this country? Have the contracts for some of these roads not been awarded again and again and again? Can you imagine people holding vigils (Christian and Muslim), shouting into the loudest speakers and microphones available at 11-12-1-2-3-4 in the morning, leaving their neighbours sleep-deprived and either shaking their helpless fists or hissing curses at them? Have you not been in this same land where the president has been compared to Jesus Christ? Well, have you not?! There are so many contradictions in this land of extreme wealth and extreme poverty where there is matching greed for lawlessness or filthy lucre. Yet, you do not want me to laugh!

    Actually, today’s title is the result of a text message sent by a highly aggrieved reader sometime last year. Unfortunately, I could not tackle it then because I did not feel quite old enough to address the young man’s despair, but today, one year older, I think I can try. As usual, I have translated the abbreviations to readable prose but the words remain the author’s. Here goes.

    The fact is Nigerians are hypocrites, liars, deceivers, of selves: Nigeria has never worked, will never work… It has no future, (a) hopelessly, morally corrupt state. Why Nigeria continues to survive as it seems? It is because what other nations celebrate, Nigeria hates and what they hate, Nigeria celebrates – embezzlement of public funds, stealing, rituals, injustice and all forms of evil and get away with it. Surely, Nigeria has lost sense of good from bad. I wonder what will save her! I don’t believe in Nigeria and will not stand up for (the) evils she represents. Please Oyinkan, what is the meaning of Nigeria? Nigeria has disappointed herself, citizens and the whole of Africa. Death is the only future before her!! Emeka. Kano. 2348064762839.

    I think many of us can identify with Mr. Emeka’s cry from the heart, even if we will not all chorus the same nihilistic conclusion. As we have said many times on this column, there are two major problems with this country: structural and leadership. The country began on a weak structure that was never addressed but was made worse by the policy of the over-centralisation of state affairs. Unfortunately, the successive leadership has been capitalising on the weakness to advance their selfish personal and sectional interests and are living in unearned opulence. Now, what we are witnessing is the followership (i.e. all Nigerians) taking its cues from the derailed leadership.

    Many people have made the same or a similar comment out of despair and bewilderment at the way Nigerians are turning tricks in different ways and turns. Nearly everywhere you go, your fellow men and women are stripping the flesh off you like barracudas in the name of surviving. Leadership positions have been made just too juicy to bear and non-leadership positions have been made just too bare and prohibitive. The difference is too clear. Naturally, everyone is ready to lie, kill, steal, commit injustice, perform rituals, and do anything to be one of the leaders. Can you blame them? I honestly don’t know.

    The result of all the jostling of course is chaos and confusion manifesting in high stakes corruption, which we are witnessing now. One theory that attempts to explain Mr. Emeka’s cry is the oft heard question: does the fault lie in us because we are black or in our stars? This theory says that the black man is not capable of doing anything right because of his blackness but the theorists forget that black is only a skin colour, not a mind colour. Nay, they insist, even the heart and mind of the black man is black, that’s why he is so wicked and sadistic. This is why the electricity man gleefully cuts you off for not settling outrageous bills without first giving you electricity; why leaders award themselves multi-billion Naira road contracts without executing them and leave ordinary people to continue to die on those roads, etc.

    I believe that the root of the problem lies in the fact that the entire modern state, with all its instruments of civilisation, is not an African construction but originates from the western world. These instruments include modern warfare, economics, industrialisation, trade, politics, espionage, subterfuge, etc. The western world understands them better, and in teaching and guiding us, they have come to be actually controlling us. I believe that in time though, we will all understand the modern system and stop carting off our resources to the West for the greater comfort of the already comfortable. Until then, take heart, Mr. Emeka; there is every hope we will.

    Merry Christmas.

  • Kidnapping and the spirit of community

    ‘The game of politics has been left to ruffians, 419s, graduates of miracle centres and all forms of never-do-wells’

    Sometime in the week, I received the following letter. I have, as usual, taken the liberty to tinker a little with it to make it more readable. Please read it first.

    However, not too long ago, Alaba, an orphan of the Olatunji clan in Igogo, Ekiti state, was kidnapped in the almost silent, peace-loving community. This sent a strong message because it raised questions about the exact beginning of the tragedy of our deviation from the path of honour, integrity and all that is culturally good and normative. The orphaning of Alaba is significant here only because she is one of the unfortunate people in Nigeria (a country where peoples’ welfare is not part of governance, and citizens are on their own) who became an orphan at a very young age.

    Everyone seems persuaded of the aberration that military government is. It altered our lives and values as a people. Having said that, however, I believe the days of Shagari and his henchmen, Umaru Dikko and Adisa Akinloye, were the worst in Nigeria’s recorded history. And every year appears to be getting worse than the previous one ever since. Conscience seems to have taken flight out of here. Abacha’s days marked another peak in the history of savagery as they stood against everything that civilization stands for.

    The emergence of the new breed politicians introduced another dangerous dimension to the Nigerian dilemma. Since this new breed took over, governance has ceased to be by intellect but by brute force and sheer brigandage. The real men of honour have been scared into taking cover, within the professions and private enterprises, leaving the game of politics to ruffians, 419s, graduates of miracle centres and all forms of never-do-wells.

    Alaba, the orphan, was said to have been coming from work in Ifaki, Ekiti state, in a car in the company of three other women, only for their car to be snatched and used to convey them into a bush from where, I later learnt, a call was made by one of the captors to a man: ‘we have got some males and females o’. The evil men were said to have earlier kidnapped some men who were returning from the Ewu Ekiti day celebration. The captives were later known to have been tied, hands and legs, awaiting the arrival of another evil man who, as is now being suggested, trades in human parts!

    Through the miracle of God, one of the captives who, incidentally, knew the terrain well, escaped and went to Orin to inform the community from where a message was sent to Igogo. My home church in Igogo, the Roman Catholic Church, was said to have been on a monthly crossover-night, during which a special thanksgiving service is held in celebration of a successful transition from one month to the other. Alaba, a chorister, was conspicuously missing. Then a message from her phone into her sister’s phone abruptly stopped and anxiety rented the air until a hint came from the escapee in Orin.

    The Igogo Church immediately got a bus and filled it with the men, leaving the women to continue the vigil. Off they went to Orin for detailed information and reinforcement, if possible for a journey into the bush that was hosting the men of evil and their captives. All the efforts the evil men made to move their victims on hearing human voices failed because the voices appeared to be coming not only from behind but also in front of them. Rescue was coming from the combined force of the Roman Catholic Church, Igogo, and the good people of Orin, who had gallantly surrounded them! The kidnappers were left with no choice but to take to their heels, abandoning their catch, and an Okada, owned by someone I learnt, is now in custody.

    The lesson: The issue goes beyond Alaba or any of the other victims. As a people, we will have to desire a good society to have one. Politics, especially this Nigerian brand, has no chance whatsoever to guarantee us a good society where the citizens are assured of life devoid of fear and panic. Our traditional rulers, the custodians of our culture, might need to sit up and rescue our communities from evil men, the same way Yobe hunters are giving hope to Yobeans in the face of the evil boko haram. Politicians, in whatever form can’t and won’t!

    Ekiti state government and the federal government must rise up to celebrate these heroes. Anyone who, like Ladi, the Yobe hunter and her group, takes steps, no matter how little, to save even a single life, deserves to be celebrated as it is done in all the civilized societies we claim to be imitating. We need to encourage heroes if indeed we desire to make progress as a people and as a nation.

    In most places where democracy is properly defined as government for the people, as opposed to this government for politicians and their families, each of them would receive a presidential phone call immediately as a starting point in their celebration. Antoinette Tuff received a phone call and spoke to President Obama, who on behalf of himself and Michelle, his wife, and the entire American people, thanked her for saving the lives of school children in a De Kalb, Georgia (US) elementary school. She stood face to face with death as she, though trembling and bare-handed, confronted and disarmed a gun-toting youth! No human society, in which mediocres and charlatans, not heroes, are given prominence, can expect to make progress.

    The names of these heroes, in this kidnap case, can be obtained from the Reverend Father in the Mission House, Roman Catholic Church, Igogo. I urge Mr. President to send a bill to the national assembly today, declaring these people heroes, alongside the Yobe lady hunter (Ladi) and her group. The literary giant, Sam Omatseye made a similar call in his essay, in which he did a comparative assessment of Ladi the female hunter of Yobe and Diezeani, the female petroleum minister turned OPEC president.

    William Aborisade, 07032555486.

    A few comments are needed here. The narration above is just one of very many of such detailing the experiences of different individuals. Some have been lucky to escape while many have not been so lucky. One thing is clear. Never in the history of this country has there been such blood thirstiness as now as most politicians have now come to believe that they cannot win any election, even to the headship of their families, without making human sacrifice. That was how Niger Delta militancy and book haram began. So they prey on us economically and in the flesh. The lowest point of our national history was when a bomb blast killed hundreds of people in Abuja and some people went there to pick up human flesh to sell!

    Secondly, unemployment is doing things to us, clearly. Now, people are prepared to do anything to survive, and it does not matter if it includes catching other Nigerians for politicians to use in rituals. Callousness and indifference appear to have taken the place of respect and fear for the humanhood of others.

    Thirdly, Nigerians need to come together as a community to fight this evil practice whereby we are preyed upon by our rulers economically and socially as well. Just the other day, one entire express road was blocked to human and vehicular traffic in my city because some party was doing its primaries there. The rest of us had to squeeze through a small lane for hours to get home. I was in a western country once when a major election was going on but no one was discomfited for it. Indeed, the politicians were consigned somewhere, away from decent view. So, why do our politicians behave like jungle kings here?

  • Nigeria on the brink of anarchy!

    ‘Of all things that a prince must guard against, the most important are being despicable and hated, and liberality will lead you to one or the other of these conditions’

    I start this week with some lines from Machiavelli’s The Prince (1513). ‘A Prince’ (i.e. a ruler), he writes,  … must not object to be called miserly. In the course of time, he will be thought more liberal, when it is seen that by his parsimony, his revenue is sufficient, that he can defend himself against those who make war on him and undertake enterprises without burdening his people, so that he is really liberal to all those from whom he does not take, who are infinite in number, and niggardly to all to whom he does not give, who are few. … if he wishes to be able to defend himself, to avoid becoming poor and contemptible, and not be forced to become rapacious; this niggardliness is one of those vices which enable him to reign …

    This simply means that a ruler must be seen not to yield too easily to his friends’ requests at the expense of the state. He will risk being called miserly with state funds and resources by his friends but that would be better than allowing state funds and resources to be at the whims of those friends and associates. The larger majority, saved from being overburdened by excessive taxation when the ruler does need money, would rise and call that ruler liberal, maybe even blessed. Machiavelli’s treatise on ruling has often been called ‘cold-blooded’, ‘cunning’ or ‘cynical’, but one can hardly doubt its reasonableness when pitted against the present Nigerian situation, where a very expensive governance style is threatening to plunge the country down the lane of insolvency. The reasons are not far-fetched: either because the state has managed to rope itself into insolvency by overpaying its legislature and friends or the president has not been too wise in his choice of beneficiaries for state largess such as fuel subsidy payment, even to those who do not import anything remotely resembling fuel.

    By its own admittance, the federal government stated that the fuel subsidy was no higher than two hundred (200) or so billion naira before the elections. A few months after the election, however, the bill jumped into the trillion brackets. This means the president picked up some wrong friends along the way. It has also been rumoured forever that electricity tariff would be hiked up too. Spoken in any of Nigeria’s 450 languages, all these translate to only one thing to the people: the president has lost the sense of fellow-feeling they voted for and the people feel very hurt and betrayed for several reasons.

    To start with, people of different religions, tribes and political persuasions had turned out in large numbers to vote for the president. In the people’s dictionary, voting for someone is as good as offering that someone a finger to feed him/her. And no one, absolutely no one, bites the finger that feeds, err, votes for him. Removing the subsidy on fuel, something the country has enjoyed for a long time, is tantamount to biting the people’s finger.

    Furthermore, the government’s argument that the subsidy payouts are benefitting only a small group of people, a ‘cabal’ constituted of some well-placed friends of the government (who are too lazy to work like you and I) does not cut it for the people. This cabal of friends also appears to be well beyond the punitive arms of the president as the government has been heard to declare that it cannot deal with them as economic saboteurs as the law demands because its hands are tied, the government’s, not the law’s.

    I think that’s why the people are really angry as it stands for everything that has been wrong with this country from the beginning. Successive governments’ inability to deal with its friends has been the root of Nigeria’s corruption from the years of import license scandal to policy changes and now to fuel importation. In any case, what government ever admits that it cannot make a citizen of its own bend to the law? Tis a strong one indeed who prays, ‘God save me from my friends; my enemies I can handle.’

    Then, the government announced unashamedly that it was placing a great deal of faith and hope on the charity it intended to dole out as ‘palliative measures’ for removing the much-loved subsidy. This consisted of the amount of money that it would distribute to the federal, state and local governments who ‘would’ use the money for the ‘good’ of the people.

    Unfortunately, each time the government extended some carrots at the end of a long stick to the people to nibble at as palliatives for a bitter economic policy, the people would start to laugh out loud. They laugh not just because they are used to the trick but more because providing a few carrots in each state to cushion the effects of an unpopular policy is indeed laughable. It also says a lot about the intelligence of the thinkers-up of such palliatives. They also laugh because of pain.

    The people know that we live in a country riddled with corruption (we will soon have ‘Corruption Street’), where governors, assemblymen and sundry political party individuals have pilfered large sums from the government’s own treasury into their own private pockets. I heard that a politician bought a house costing hundreds of millions of Naira for his girlfriend. How then are the people to believe that any accrual from an economic policy will not go further to fill some rapacious party fellow’s pockets (the monthly allocations have already lined them)? This is just a sign of the corruption which is really at the bane of this problem.

    Now, owing to the economic profligacy of the country, there are not enough buffers to withstand the new economic downturn brought on by the sliding price of oil in the international market. Everywhere you turn these days, people are groaning that ‘there is no money in town’ or ‘the nation’s pockets are dry’. Yet, everyone agrees that the rapacious appetites of the voracious group called politicians continue unabated.

    What the people are asking for is simple enough. The people want to be provided more serious infrastructure such as train services, affordable housing, industries, a constant flow of electricity, well equipped hospitals, and other good signs of statehood for which people pay tax. Are all these too much to ask, I ask you?

    More importantly, the people want a government that can save the weak from the strong, keep the strong from destroying himself and the state, and stop pushing the people’s button. For, when the people’s button is pushed, they will react again and again and again. Their reaction, however, is not what takes the country to the precipice. No sir; it is when the country is handed over to cronies and friends and party members that the country will be pulled into certain anarchy. It is government liberality to a few that has led to the corruption that has taken us to where we are now; it is this government liberality that the people are fighting. “That government is best which governs the least”, says an adage. I end as I started, with Machiavelli’s The Prince:

    There is nothing which destroys itself so much as liberality, for by using it you lose the power of using it, and become either poor and despicable, or, to escape poverty, rapacious and hated. And, of all things that a prince must guard against, the most important are being despicable and hated, and liberality will lead you to one or the other of these conditions.

     

    • This article was first published sometime in 2011 but has been modified because its continued relevance today cannot be held in doubt.

  • Time to remember: the powerful elixir of Kasagoff, Aloe Vera, Cocoa, Moringa, etc.

    Some things are really not worth remembering, such as the taste of bad food, Nigerians’ bad manners, selfish politicians, and the exact figure of my age.

    I have watched, in fascinated horror, as Nigerians have moved their tastes and obsessions from one product to another claiming to hold the secret to long life. The list is endless: try Kasagoff to Aloe Vera to GNLD to Forever Products to Garlic to Cocoa, and now to Moringa! If I have not spelt any well or forgotten some, please forgive me but I am no less struck by the very powerful effect they have on Nigerians. I have seen them all quake and swoon in real, unfeigned ecstasy as they have sworn with finger put to mouth and then pointed upwards on the total efficacy and life extending capability of each of these products. They have sworn on each one in turn. And I have sometimes joined them.

    Once, a long time ago, after newly moving into my house, I was anxious to show a guest the fascinating points and contours of the house. As he stepped into my compound, however, I lost him. Oh no, he did not disappear before my eyes, no; but as soon as he laid his eyes on the Aloe Vera plant reluctantly growing close to the gate of the house, he lost his reason. Oh my God, he screamed, you have this plant?! You have this plant?! Somebody recommended it to me to treat my hypertension and I have been looking all over for it. So you have it? Can I take some of it with me, please can I? I had never seen such loss of control over a plant, so who was I to stand in the way of that worship?! Of course, he could take the whole thing, for in all honesty, I could then no longer remember why I had planted it. I think that amnesia occurred as soon as I experienced the bitter taste of the Aloe Vera. I never have tried it again.

    I think that’s it. I was looking for a cure for my penchant for forgetfulness; it was not even much then, now of course it is even stronger. Then, I really thought the earth was going to fall when I would go to the market and remember only half my shopping list, loan people money (there is no amount of pentothal truth serum you give me that will make me talk: I will not name names) and forget to collect it back, fail to remember the right figure of my age, find the right word to describe the rambunctious behaviour of the urchins in my care, or worse, cook and forget to eat. The last one was the most worrisome and I felt it needed some drastic action. So I discreetly made enquiries because you cannot go around bragging ‘Look people, I find that I am now growing forgetful, what’s the remedy?’ God help you if your students overhear you.

    Anyway, I made enquiries about the best way to tackle forgetfulness and someone recommended the plant Aloe Vera. What is that? I asked. It is a wonder plant, I was told. It can cure everything. Seriously, I laughed, everything? Oh yes, it is even better than Kasagoff, I was told. Now, what is that? I think at that point, my respondent got tired, of my ignorance that is, not of me. Get Aloe Vera, she said. And that is how I came to plant it.

    As soon as I did, like the inexperienced farmer I was, I expected the blessed plant to sprout but I had to be patient awhile. After being tardy on the job during which my memory continued to decline to the point that I perpetually had to be looking for my slip-ons, it eventually brought something out for me to try. That was when I discovered that its bitter taste could probably induce more forgetfulness. Promptly, I went back to my source. Are you sure this plant works because all I can remember is its bitter taste. Perhaps, my source irreverently suggested, your forgetfulness is too strong for the plant. Try GNLD or Forever products. Maybe those ones can assist a chronic case like yours. Now what on earth are those? Well, my source patiently explained, they are also elixirs for regenerating youthfulness in every way, including even your memory. It regains lost youth better than King David’s fresh blood.

    No, someone else firmly countered, let her try garlic. Seriously, again I laughed, garlic?  Yes, I was told. Garlic is the cure-all product. No wonder, I thought I could perceive a pungent odour coming from the direction of the speaker but I could not place my nose on it exactly. So, I nodded, that is the secret to long life and the foul smell. I declined; I felt there was just no way any life constantly exposed to that smell could be around for too long.

    Then I heard about Cocoa. Straight I went to make enquiries. Cocoa, claimed the marketers, could fulfil just about any wish you placed before it. In short, it could stand in the way of a failing memory. So, feeling coins loose and fancy free, I purchased me a packet, took a swig and found myself nursing the mother of a headache. Could that be my memory flooding back? I took another swig and experienced a repeat performance. I was sure I had not forgotten that much, so, once again, I found myself in the market. That was when I heard about Moringa.

    Moringa, I was told, has the capability to do so many things in the body the scientists are still out on the list. I was concerned about memory. All you have to do, I was told, is eat the leaves. Feeling much like a goat, I set to work. That was when I discovered that there is an association of Moringa growers, there are conferences on the intricacies of the plant, and there are regular meetings of the growers. I wondered if I needed to ask if there is an association of Moringa eaters so I could ask them some questions.

    Anyway, after being tossed to and fro fruitlessly seeking the elixir of youth and youthful memory, I have been constrained to asking myself: whatever happened to eating right and doing right by one’s neighbours? I hesitate to conclude that Nigerians are gullible; indeed I would not go so far as to say that. I would simply say that Nigerians are too anxious to find quick fixes or solutions to their health problems. While many amongst us are educated and even lettered, I have been forced to conclude that in many of us, that education ‘don’t mean a thing’. In some cases, the more educated we are the more perverse we are in our thinking. This is why it is possible for even a professor to be defrauded into thinking that some special teas or trado-medical brews or passing fads in drinks or plants can cure diabetes. It is also why it is possible for someone to believe that one can stay young forever on these products. Sadly, it is also the reason why people continue to lose a great deal of money that could otherwise be put to better use.

    Truth is, dissipated living has its costs, and there are no quick fixes to regaining it. Lost youth can only be regained by regular exercises, eating right and thinking right, such as how to serve other Nigerians better. As for me, I have decided that my memory will work better when I don’t accost it with too much worry. In any case, some things are really not worth remembering, such as the taste of bad food, Nigerians’ bad manners, selfish politicians, and the exact figure of my age.

     

    This piece was first published in November 2012

  • The dead man who found his way home and other random thoughts

    I love thee well, Nigeria my country. The reason why, I really cannot tell.
    Though your story be crooked or torrid, I love thee well, that you can tell.

     

    In Nigeria, nearly everything mysterious is possible. Are you looking for a fighting hen with three legs? It was born in Nigeria. Are you looking for people who have killed each other over one or two thousand Naira? It has happened here. Are you looking for a land where the clear winner of an election is not really the winner? Its right here in Nigeria. Don’t ask me for proof of these things. I read them in newspapers just as I am sure you also did but probably did not pay attention, just as I read that a dead man found his way home, against all odds.

    During the week, we read the story of a man who was reported to have been missing from home and work for days, only to have been found stowed away in some mortuary. The story says that the man left home for work and did not return, while the work place confirmed that he did come to work but he signed off at the end of his shift. So, he was not seen at home or work until about five days later, when he was found in the mortuary. Now, this is where the wonderful story really begins for a writer who loves mysteries; for somewhere between closing off at work and failure to report home, Nigeria’s tale is told.

    First of all, there are conjectures to be made from that interval of time, which the dead man cannot confirm or deny. Could he have been kidnapped? That of course would not surprise any Nigerian as there are people always on the watch for making a few pennies off their neighbour. Just this morning, I was reading of how a man, his wife and nine-month old baby had been caught in the act of kidnapping, a family business you could say. (Is the baby also liable, I wonder?). Anyway, he confessed to have helped his gang to kidnap his former colleague. Can you just imagine that? Now, when you walk or drive on the road or you are in a taxi or you are at your office, you have no idea who is sizing you up for just how much you are worth, dead or alive. Does it not make you shiver that our Nigeria has become something else?

    The man, according to the story, was picked up by the police in a neighbourhood somewhere between his home and place of work and placed in a mortuary. Presumably, it was said, he had slumped because he was suffering from some ailment. Now, we do not know exactly what happened to this man’s blood sugar or blood pressure or something else but it is consternating indeed the number of people suffering from one or other of these bloods in Nigeria and yet do not follow instructions or they prefer go after miracle cures. This is a general comment for all of us and not addressed to the family but I believe that it is only in Nigeria that people think that diabetes or hypertension can be ‘cured’ by herbs or bouts of night vigil. The night vigilians are even worse. Rather than take drugs or attend clinics punctually and regularly, they believe that an endless number of ‘rejecting IJN’ will resolve the blood issue. Even till this morning, I know a patient who kept shifting his/her doctor’s appointment day after day because s/he needed to travel; so the doctor should please not be ‘annoyed’. The doctor sweetly said he wasn’t but that s/he should please leave a note on her kitchen table that, should anything happen, s/he failed to keep his/her clinic appointments. It is only in Nigeria that health is valued for much less than the price of the cheapest lace material.

    The story also says that the people who observed the fallen man lying there were afraid to go near him perhaps because of fear of the ebola virus. There was a time in Nigeria when everyone was his brother’s keeper. True, the fear of ebola appears now to be the beginning of a great basket of wisdom. However, that did not absolutely absolve that neighbourhood of the guilt of failing to assist the fallen man. For one thing, ebola had been successfully banished from the country. For quite another, anyone from the age of forty can fall down anywhere in the country now considering that the life expectancy in this country is falling everyday with the stress of living in Nigeria. Forty-something is now the new seventy-something.

    Worse, who can tell if that man would not have survived if he had benefitted from some kind of medical intervention or if there had been some rallying around by the people or if he had been given first aid? Since no one could move near him, we really do not know how long it took him to die. Unfortunately, Nigeria is replete with such stories of needless losses.

    Much worse than all the above, it was reported that the police team which picked him up saw the man’s identity card but did nothing about contacting the family or his work place. This is a very strange thing for a police force to do, any force in the world. Of what use is one’s identity card if not to state the important information regarding one’s dead body? Are such pieces of information not to be used should anything happen, like falling down arsy-varsy? What exactly does it mean when we hear, ‘The police are your friends?’ Honestly, I need some education on that matter because if you ask the citizenry, all the ‘friendings’ appear to be coming from the people and very little is coming from the police. Is this deliberate? For instance, why could two policemen not cover areas in beats as we see them do in other countries, so that such matters as contacting a dead man’s family would easily be handled by the pair or group assigned to that area? With the reorganisation going on in Lagos, I don’t believe there is an address that cannot be located now, more so, a place of employment. We have so many questions for the police to answer on this matter but I guess mum’s the word.

    Anyhow, that is the story of Nigeria told by the people themselves. It is an unsavoury story though, all things considered. The story of this man has brought to the surface the great amount of indifference to life running as undercurrents even as we all appear to be going around building houses, building businesses, building money and anything else that can or cannot be built. It sort of makes you think that it is all so worthless if a man can just slump on the road and no one would help him but providence. Perhaps, I’m taking too dim a view of the situation; after all, providence is still there for us, both king and peasant.

    I commiserate with the family of Mr. Oranusi for its loss; his story is an example of how a dead man can find his way home. It also shows how much everyone is really on his/her own in this country. In this scientific age, you sort of think that we can do things a little more methodically as a nation rather than rely overly much on providence to help the individual. Right now, fortuitousness seems to be guiding us all. This is why we still do things the same ancestor-preferred way: no research input into civil service reforms, business methods, products output, eating systems, social engineering systems, etc. This should not be. Nigeria’s sad tale, as told in the death of one man, can still change.

  • The idiot’s approach to the Nigerian economy

    The minister is saying that the economic road ahead is going to be rougher for the 99% of the population living on the remaining 1% resources of the nation

    Minister of finance, Dr. N. Okonjo-Iweala, dropped a bombshell not long ago that oil prices were dropping in the world but that Nigerians should not fear because we were adequately covered: the budget had been planned on an oil price of seventy-nine dollars ($79). Then followed another bomb shell from a government quarter that said because oil prices were dropping, salaries may soon be affected. I wondered then why anyone would aim straight for people’s salaries out of all governmental spending as the first thing to bear the brunt of such a fall. Why not the colossal and largely unmerited legislative allowances? Why not the president’s lunch? Why should mine be the scapegoat?

    Anyway, then came the most recent bombshell from the minister: this month, the country will begin to witness the result of this oil price slide; so we should get ready for tougher times. And I thought, tougher times this month, eh? What about the tougher times the people of this country have been experiencing for decades as a result of little or no governmental intervention in their lives?

    Let me present this idiot’s perception of the Nigerian economy as observed in the people’s experiences. For decades now, I have watched in sympathy as my nearest and dearest neighbour in the house has agonised on the phone nearly every morning trying to describe for the repairman the latest sound coming out of the little generating set that supplies electricity to the apartment. I have usually heard the laconic reply of the repairman at the other end as he too often tried to place the fault in the complex machine he could not see but must repair, like a doctor making a phone consultation. You can expect some roughness, but you’ll get some pain remission, even if most times the patient and the doctor are talking at cross-purposes. For the generating set owner and the repairman, this has been a daily routine.

    As a matter of fact, it has been the daily routine for most men in Nigeria now. I think they would just wake up in the morning, greet everyone in the house and pick up the phone to call the generating set repairman. Whenever that one has failed to turn up because he is tired of tinkering with old sets, the owner must undertake the repair himself. He must sweat and puff to change the plug. He must puff and sweat to change the oil. He would then find that the plug has been placed in one remote, inaccessible or difficult-to-reach corner of the set as his hand and arm disappear into the machine, all the while crouching uncomfortably and hissing from both ends. The reason has been the absence of electricity supply whenever it has been needed.

    Did you read about the most recent (yes, the most recent because there have been many others) unfortunate incident where a couple lost all their children to a fire started by a candle because there was no electricity? Before that, there was another incident in which a young man had gone to kick his generating set and unknowingly answered a call on his phone at the same time. The explosion took his life. There are so many ‘before thats…’ that if I do not cut them, this page will be filled with the stories of many families that have perished from inhaling generator fumes while sleeping at night; factories that have folded up for unbearable overheads, etc. The relatively safer and cheaper public electricity system is not available to anyone for love or money.

    Any intercity wayfarer in Nigeria now is lucky to arrive home from his destination, even if all he is covered in is dust and not his blood. Not only are roads insufficient, they are in such disused states that Socrates would not walk on them in his sandals, much as he liked walking. Potholes deep enough to sink cars litter the roads from the weight of trailers, trucks and tankers owned by people in or close to government. Northern youngsters barely out of nappies are consigned to drive trailers longer than their villages and so do not have the experience and patience to prevent their trailers from lying down, coma-like, in the middle of the highways, causing days-old traffic jams. Other road users drive as if they are unaware that lives can be lost because there is no one to check them. How then can we move products cheaply, safely and fast across the states without the rail system?

    Those are just two examples, from my perception, that provide insight into this nation’s economy. For decades now, basic amenities (including energy, water, roads, etc.) have been provided by house owners, factory owners, manufacturers, etc. Yet, Nigeria is said to earn anything between twelve (12) to eighteen (18) billion Naira from oil PER DAY. This is in addition to the billions more generated unofficially through oil bunkering. It is not recorded, yet regarded. So, I ask you, who is to provide the enabling environment for the economy to grow: champagne swirling leaders?

    Just check the amount of money that has been released by the Ministry of Finance from the time of Gen. Obasanjo to the present for the revamping of the nation’s electricity project, and you’ll see that it did not come anywhere near ‘We the people…’ While you are at it, could you also check who was contracted to handle some of the nation’s highways – Ogbomoso-Oyo highway, Egbe-Kabba highway, and many more. This is so we’ll know who to curse when next we are on those roads. Those are the ones giving us rough roads, not oil price slide. Unfortunately, the government’s blind eye to these things makes the roads rougher for ‘We the people’.

    Right now, the country is not only regarded as the most corrupt nation in the world but also the most foolish. It is only a foolish country that awards its low achieving legislative arm of governance such allowances and emoluments that are higher than those of their counterparts in developed nations where people do real work, or light years ahead of the gross or net earnings of the nation. It is the more foolish when you remember that the country parades a poverty-afflicted population that is among the highest in the world. I just love the way some online commentator has succinctly described the situation: the government’s blind eye is putting 99% of the nation’s resources in the hands of 1% of the population. This means that the remaining 99% of the population must exist on the remaining 1% of the resources. Yet, I believe that the minister’s ratified audience is clear: she is saying that the economic road ahead is going to be rougher for the 99% of the population living on the remaining 1% resources of the nation.

    The shameful truth about Nigeria’s economy is that it has been left to run wild with little or no governmental intervention. Have you noticed that all the gains of the Gen. Obj. era in terms of forcing the country to look inwards and build her economy through self-reliance have been jettisoned out the window? Now, just about anything can be imported into the country; and that greatly discourages local participation in the economy. So, what economics are we really talking about?

    This is my idiot’s approach to Nigeria’s economy. There are many countries in the world without the resources that Nigeria has been blessed with. Yet, they are making do by exporting the products of their brains and what they can gather from social services such as provision of public utilities and infrastructures. Nigeria can do the same. Let us use the pittances we have left to prepare for this rainy day.

  • Nigerian leaders: A commitment to sharing

    This democracy has been a godfather-based one because in most states, the godfathers have been having their says and their ways while the people have been watching history being assaulted

    Clearly, there are many students of the Nigerian democratic project who have come to the conclusion that there is nothing wrong with this country’s democratic experiment that removing her leadership will not fix. This is really pitiful when you consider that those leaders are actually supposed to drive the democracy project. But, honestly, what can one make of the sudden pronouncement by the president of the Federal (and democratic) Republic of Nigeria that his party’s governors could all have a second term, gratis? Seriously? I call it the largesse of good luck. Actually, if the president had been anything like the Ekiti state governor, I would have said, ‘hmm, there goes the bar-room talk’.

    Instead, I just thought, has the president forgotten that this is a democracy and it is not for him to make such decisions by word of mouth? Rather, it should be the group of nitwit, half-wit, impoverished and neglected ‘we the people’ who get to decide who goes for a second term and who is bombed by word of the election box. Indeed, he himself may even be bombed in that box. Nitwits do have their day, I tell you.

    Perhaps, the president did not really forget; perhaps he was just acting in the spirit of things. In the spirit of things in Nigeria, it is possible for the president to anoint anyone for anything. Perhaps, he anointed his governors because he was well pleased with them; perhaps he needed something from them; perhaps he was hoping they would anoint him in return, who knows? It is obvious though that these clever, cunning and extremely intelligent Nigerians called politicians have taken the ancient, time-honoured and world-renowned democratic process and twisted it inside out, turned it upside down and wrung its very soul out to bring forth what is called home-grown democracy. I hate the sound of that; it is when we want to be dubious that we talk of home-grown anything. You and I know that what we have been witnessing since 1999 cannot by any stretch of my feeble imagination be called democracy. It looks more like something brewed in hell’s kitchen by Satan and implemented by his faithful ones.

    My question then is this: if we knew from the beginning that we were going to run a home-grown democracy, why did we bother to send our nation’s lawmen across the seas to the Americas to go and learn how they do it there soooooooo many times? This is something that every state and even the central government did. One poverty-ridden state somewhere in the north or centre of this country was said to have sent its lawmen on nothing less than 74 trips! Why did we waste such a colossal amount of money making monkeys of ourselves around the world, parading our behinds for the world to see, all the while thinking we were learning about the ways of men? Oh, what meritorious goons we have been!

    I think we all agree, people, there has been very little resembling people-based democracy in what we have been doing since this experiment began again. Take a look. Have we not been witnessing the law being transformed from the people’s last defence to the people’s nothing? Have we not seen this dispensation blatantly disobey orders issuing forth from our collective common sense in several matters? Well, have we not? Don’t let me name names.

    Problem is, those we have sent to the centre (of states, of the nation, of the universe) to speak for us are largely silent because they are speechless, wordless and voiceless. Reason is simple. We have been having houses of parliament filled with officers who (s)elected (i.e. rigged) themselves or were (s)elected by their godfathers. We have also been having state governors installed by their (you guessed it) godfathers who have hovered over them more closely than their guardian angels. This democracy has been a godfather-based one because in most states, the godfathers have been having their says and their ways while the people have been watching history being assaulted left, right and centre.

    This is why it is possible for the president of this country to forget the people’s will in the matter of who wins or does not win a governorship or senatorial seat election. I hear reps and senators from that party are also demanding that the largesse of automatic second term be extended to them. That means no election on earth, no people’s will on earth, can replace them. Hurray!  Frankly, I think we should by-pass these assemblymen and vote in the godfathers. They are more knowing. And while we are on the matter, I would like to also obtain the president’s permission to go for a second term as the chief controller of my dog. He is somewhat heady and I am not too popular with him right now mainly because I have not been too kind to him. If he were to choose his controller through an election …

    There are results from all these disharmonious and freakish assaults to history. First, there is a strong tendency for ‘We the people,’ the ordinary Nigerians, to come to truly believe that this is democracy. This is so far from democracy that I cannot begin to measure the distance. We do not know exactly what is prompting Nigerian democracy to go the awkward way it is going. Some have put it down to money. They say things like there is so much money in the country and no one is asking anyone to give account of anything. Maybe. Some have put it down to power. They say things like someone has to decide who is called to ‘come and eat’ out of that money. Maybe.  Some have even put it down to destiny. They say things like Nigeria is not meant to survive because it is actually no man’s land. Honestly, I don’t know.

    What I do know is that someone, somewhere, is misdirecting this democracy for reasons best known to him/her and the people are acquiescing. Too many people are too glad to be invited to come and eat. Heck, half of Nigeria is waiting to be invited. Just look at the list of presidential and governors’ aides – simply endless; all doing ridiculous things and all earning ridiculous pays! This is the reason many claim that democracy is working. Again, I don’t know.

    Truth is, since the dawn of the country, there has been no leadership group that has not approached, with great gusto, the bungling of things and the deliberate sliding down of the country towards destruction. Truly, it appears clear to me that if the nation’s succession of leaders had purposely set out to derail the country, they could not have done it differently.

    One consequence of this kind of anointing is that Nigeria’s leaders are not committed to leadership for the developmental progress of the country. Allegiance to The One who anoints is thus of far more importance than allegiance to the people’s progress. After all, the people’s progress cannot put food on the table, send one’s children overseas or install one’s wife/husband in a comfortable flat or house in London.

    People, this is not the way to give this democracy a chance. This is the way to kill it using all known methods such as violent stabbing, strangulation, murder and poisoning. Oh yes, we are already doing all four. As it is now, our leaders are more committed to sharing posts, money, spoils of office, bank accounts, girlfriends, boyfriends, each other, etc., than in moving this country forward. I think we need to go back to the dictionary.

  • Some serious thinking needs to be done on this Okada riding business

    For the sake of the rest of us who do not use Okada, let us all sit down at this here round table and shake fists on the matter

    First there was talk of the federal government banning Okada riding throughout Nigeria. At that, my heart did a somersault; you know, like it does when you get the news that your wife has been delivered of a set of quadruplets. Gbam! You say that’s good news? Well, I’m sure you know that depends on where you’re standing. Then there was a definite and suspiciously resounding denial of any intention by the government to ban Okada riding. At that, my heart took a dip. Wham! And I thought, ‘hmmm, I smell a rat!’ Before you hang me, though, please let me first have my say, even if you won’t give me my way.

    For the sake of the rest of us who do not use Okada, let us all sit down at this here round table and shake fists on the matter. I know many Okada riders. Some of them are my relatives, friends, neighbours and family artisans, and some of them are even friendly with me, when we are not on the road. I think that gives me a vantage position to be objective about the situation.

    Yes sir, I know; many reasons have been given on why many riders have taken to the road: failed infrastructures like electricity, bad economy, low clientele, etc. These, say the experts, account for why over half of the riders are not practicing their primary professions. These people are on the roads because they need to feed their families.

    Well, to that I can only say that I am also experiencing those failed infrastructures too but you have not seen me take to the road riding Okada. But don’t mind me; it’s just my cowardice controlling me as usual. True, I have seen some women on those things (and how I have hated them out of envy), but I always think, if I can get from point A to point B without endangering my limbs unnecessarily, why do I need to prove that what a man can do, a woman can do much worse?

    As a matter of fact, I remember riding one of the things just once very many years ago and that was because the city I had gone to visit had no taxis. I believe the rider is still telling anyone who cares to listen how he once picked a fare who held his neck from behind to keep herself from falling. I am sure you cannot blame me. Have you taken a good look at a typical rider? He is often wearing black-rimmed and thick glasses through which he sees the road and all of us rather darkly, a dress ensemble consisting of sokoto, buba and a well insulated sports jacket. He completes this dressing with a pair of flip-flop slip-ons and a helmet that hangs on the mirror for protection (of the mirror, that is, not the head). Now, you understand my fear.

    Again, the argument has been advanced that these riders are contributing to the economy of the country by helping to increase the employment figure in Nigeria. Honestly I cannot argue either side of this. The only problem is that a very good number of them are liable to end up in orthopedic hospitals with crushed or broken legs, arms or heads. Yes, I guess you are right, they are contributing to giving doctors, nurses, pharmaceutical companies, etc., a great deal of trade. I also have it on good authority that even doctors and nurses are getting weary of the steady stream of people who go out of their house of a day to crush their bones. I do remember stopping somewhere to purchase some item, only to hear the women around there wailing on the death of a young rider who had passed in front of their shop only a few minutes before then.

    One evening not too long ago, a somewhat inebriated young man known to me got on the motorcycle he used for Okada business, and ran headlong into a parked car, damaging the car, of course, and irreparably damaging his own neck, turning him into a quadriplegic. Not long after, his elder brother got on another motorcycle and ran headlong into another motorcyclist at top speed, killing both of them.

    Honestly, have you seen how unsteady and thin those motorcycles are? They surely belong in the category of the ‘now you see them, now you don’t’. Truly, many of them disappear into thin air while you are looking at them. Sometimes, the riders also disappear with them, especially under trucks and trailers; that is, when they are not causing mayhem on the road. So, if any figure is being increased, I think it’s the gains of the country where the motorcycles are being manufactured; they are smiling to the bank while we are groaning.

    Then, the use of motorcycles as a means of transportation is doing nothing but reinforcing and increasing the image of Nigeria as a very poor country gripped by chaos, confusion and wretchedness. At no time do you get this feeling than when every motorist has been stopped at the traffic lights or traffic warden. Then, when all are released, it’s the motorcyclists who first surge forward like a swarm of ravaging locusts revving infernal noises and belching soot and smoke to be consumed by the hapless motorists coming behind them. I don’t particularly care for that.

    Naturally, many of us non-users of Okada are in favour of banning their use. The country’s government needs to stop hiding behind them to give the illusion that it is providing employment. It is not because in this employment, there is no possibility of career development.

    However, two or three words of caution here when it comes time to ban them. The first concerns the timing. Clearly, no banning can be effective when the group that uses the motorcycles remains hungry. Infrastructural decay has been fingered as the culprit. These have not been addressed in the country because as usual, the government is playing politics with them. So, clearly, until that is done, it will be grossly unfair to remove the source of livelihood of that group, no matter how riotous or unpleasant its members are, without replacing that livelihood with something that can feed them better.

    Secondly, the government needs to plan the ban properly when it is ready to impose it. Right now, Okada is too useful in helping people get from the express road right into their bedrooms. So, it’s not just the riders, but even the clientele, who will be ready to bite the head out of any ban-ner of Okada. It cannot just come out of blues; it must be done systematically.

    Thirdly, before the government bans Okada, it must first have a plan concerning what to do with the millions of the little monsters that have been imported into the country. This means that there must have been put in place a system by which they will be destroyed or recycled or exported out of the country again. This will be the only way to avoid the evil of motorcycle gangs and gang wars that is often concomitant with so many of them lying around the place.

    Clearly, we need to seriously think about this Okada issue now so that we may see it as it really is: a social disease. Using them to fodder political interests or score political points as is being done currently in Ekiti state is being most unkind to the future of many Nigerians. Using them to project a rise in employment figures is also engaging in deception. Truth is that Okada business is destructive at all levels. This is what we need to confront.

  • The heart of the Police

    There is no end to what the police could have done to help that boy that day, but it was definitely not to stand and gawk. Gawking is not on police syllabus

    I recently read a book that had a chapter titled ‘The Heart of a Curate’. The chapter talked about many things the heart of a curate should or should not contain. Naturally, the most basic ingredient to be looked for in a curate’s heart is selfless love, even for God’s own worst creatures like a serial murderer. Conversely, that heart should not contain anything like selfishness or self-preservation at the expense of even the littlest of God’s own creatures.

    That made me wonder: what really is at the core of the heart of Nigerians as one group? I suppose that will require a large study that will involve not only psychologists, sociologists, pathologists, etc., but also surgeons. Oh yes, dear people, we may need to slice open a few hearts to confirm what we have always feared: the heart of your Nigerian is black at the core. How do I know this? Listen to me now as I tell you.

    A story broke during the week that fairly tore at everyone’s heart. A helpless four-year old boy found himself being mauled by a pair of the landlord’s dogs gone out of control. With unrestrained fangs, the dogs were said to have torn open the lil `un’s scalp, in addition to inflicting all kinds of injuries on him. That is so scary; at least it was to those standing around him watching the event. Yes sir, some brave ones were daring enough to watch. Not me.

    What surprises me (I don’t know about you) is the fact that the report says that there were policemen among the watchers of the gory and goring event. Apparently, the residents who were overcome by the happening at its start had gone to call in the police who came to the scene but promptly became overcome too. They must have exclaimed ‘what the …?!’ when they saw the boy being mauled by the pair of dogs. When I read the report, I also echoed ‘what the …?! Not again!’ about the policemen’s inaction.

    I hesitate to say that the police were helpless (even though one of them was said to have exclaimed something to the effect of ‘Who wants to die?’), but clearly, they did not meet the high general expectation. And this is not the first time. Remember the one that happened somewhere on the outskirts of Port Harcourt some years ago when some students were torn apart by an angry mob as some policemen watched? There was also outrage because the rest of us humanity were and are still operating within a particular framework in which the police are expected to have a heart.

    Normally, the heart of the police is expected to contain many things. First of all, at the core of the heart of a policeman, slice it ever which way you will, resides the most important ingredient: that willingness to serve and protect. When he leaves home in the morning to report for duty, he is not sure in what capacity he is going to serve the public, but his readiness is never in doubt. So, many a policeman has found himself climbing up fifty-foot trees just to retrieve a drunken fellow; they have also been known to have climbed down twenty-foot wells to bring out many an errant child or adult; they have had to wait on old ladies for minutes on end; they have also had to slug it out with armed bandits, robbers or highway men… Obviously, when duty calls for the police, nature is the grand discriminator.

    Whoever needs to be served, the heart of the police is self-sacrificing, even for stupid drunks. Unfortunately, this essential ingredient of service has somehow metamorphosed in the heart of the police in Nigeria to mean service to big men only, like the rest of us. And so, the policemen called upon that day did not serve that little boy when he needed them most.

    Naturally, in order to serve, the police need to be strong-hearted. This ingredient is so important that I believe it constitutes part of the qualities demanded of a recruit. Indeed, he is expected to be physically strong enough to beat a robber under the table and not to be the one cowering under himself; mentally strong enough to anticipate the moves of the most slippery fish; spiritually strong enough not to go around suspecting that everyone and everything is against him. Again, unfortunately, this important ingredient appears to have dissolved into ineffectuality around here. Many tales abound of the police politely giving robbers the right of way.

    Above all, the heart of the police needs to contain wiliness and intelligence. This is because many a situation, not to talk of the antics of sociopaths and psychopaths, can tax the average brain. I imagine that this ingredient was sorely lacking in the policemen that answered the call to come to that little boy’s rescue. It could also be that they missed out on the lectures on how to rescue someone being attacked by an animal. So, they did not know how to distract an attacking animal with a decoy while the victim is snatched off… or to tie up exposed parts of the body with some hard materials like jute before accosting a wild animal… or to call the mother of the victim… Oh dear, there is no end to what they could have done but it was definitely not to stand and gawk. Gawking is not on police syllabus.

    Seriously, what has so corrupted the heart of the police in Nigeria that makes its men stand by and gawk at evil again and again? Here we are, all the while being told that when you call the police, their training ensures that they will help you in your dire need, even give you their salary. And there they are, conditionalising their help. God will save us.

    The incident above clearly points again to the endless number of lapses in the running of the police system in Nigeria. It has been remarked again and again that there has been a systematic dehumanisation of the police by the nation’s leaders, yet not much has been done to restore its humanisation. The very essence of the police has been devalued by the currents of things thrown at them, most notably their poor and insufficient kitting out, not to talk of the poor arms they give them to carry.

    It is also well known now that every segment of the Nigerian populace calculates everything in terms of the naira and kobo value: what’s in it for me? I believe the police are not different. This means that to a man, you, me, your police, etc., now believe that the incentive to act is inversely proportional to the risk investment in a venture. Should I rescue a man from inside a well? Yes if a) he will be grateful; b) his folks will be grateful; c) if he will settle a large endowment on me afterwards. Should I rescue a child from dogs? Yes if a) his folks will take care of my people should I die in the process; b) there will be a large settlement; c) they will settle me… If none of the above will follow, then no. Naturally, this calculation takes place within nanoseconds.

    What’s in the heart of the police in Nigeria? I don’t know. But let’s have a change of that heart, police people. Serving in the police is all about going out on a limb. The heart of the police should not be different from that of a curate after all. It must be motivated by a selfless desire to serve the public.