The Nation Newspaper

Category: Sunday

  • Nigerians must be ready to storm this bastille (the National Assembly)

    ‘Like a partridge that hatches eggs it did not lay, are those who gain riches by unjust means.
    When their lives are half gone, their riches will desert them, and in the end they will prove to be fools. – Jeremiah 17: 11

    It is a shame of monumental proportions that  84 members of  the  senate of  the Federal Republic of Nigeria could,  in pursuit of  juicy senate committees, permit  themselves to be rail roaded into passing a vote of confidence  in  a man, albeit the senate president, standing trial on thoroughly scandalous charges before the Code of Conduct Tribunal. Granted that Senator Bukola Saraki is presumed innocent, a more honourable group should have prevailed on him to step aside until his honour has been fully restored. It says so much for the moral of these senators, many of them brandishing, not only higher degrees, but membership of distinguished professions. Writing on today’s topic reminds me of Dr Segun Osoba, my teacher of unmatchable perspicacity, who taught both my Diplomatic History and Philosophy of History at degree level. Deploying deep insight and introspection, he had uncannily predicted today’s Nigeria way back some five decades ago. That wasn’t by magic, but the result of  clear-headedness and a principled stand on the side of the PEOPLE in their interminable war against the supposed great men of power; the despoilers of common causes, and oppressors of the flotsam and jetsam of society. Like most rational thinkers, my teacher voted for Holism over and above, Individualism.

    However, before we go into all that, let me most sincerely thank those who made my 70th birthday such an unforgettable and impactful event. This entire page will not contain their names but the good Lord knows you all. They made me an open book, saying what they know and believe about me as Olu Aluko did when he wrote on ekitipanupo: “indomitable is an appropriate word to describe Oga Orebe who, at 70, is still rugged, dogged, persistent and as ‘constant as the northern star – a man to admire and engage with, intellectually. Amiable and well cultured, he is a good example of what people should perceive of the Ekiti man!” I have since replied to thank  him while not forgetting to ask all the forumites, and  everybody  reading this, ‘to  kindly stretch a hand towards me in prayers  to the end that the Almighty God  will continue to instruct and guide me a right, to the last days of my life’.

    What the group of 84 senators is doing, holding up Senator Bukola Saraki as being superior to other Nigerians and should therefore walk away with a slap on the wrist instead of defending himself before the Code of Conduct Tribunal, completely stands logic on the head as it makes nonsense of the Hegelian postulate that the whole is greater than the part, and that the state is superior to an anarchic agglomeration of individuals, no matter what name they call themselves. In Hegel’s metaphysical doctrine – I don’t know how much of this our aspiring emperors of the Nigerian senate know – value, integrity and common sense reside in the whole, not in the part just as the eye is worthless when separated from the body. In the instant case, Saraki and his colleague senators, like the senate itself, are nothing more than a mere part of a country whose critical component are the PEOPLE. It is therefore numbing and defies all logic that Saraki, in being taken before a tribunal for his alleged personal transgressions, and having all the wherewithal to hire all of Nigeria’s SANs, can suddenly be equated to the whole senate as is now being mischievously claimed by the complicit 84 members, uproariously insisting that the senate leadership is being targeted and embarrassed. Senator Bukola Saraki, in case they truly do not know, is only  an individual and no amount of grandstanding by any number of bigoted  individuals, seeking after their own greed, must be allowed to shame the Nigerian judiciary as his mocking lawyers appear to be inclined. To succeed in that will mean that Saraki is a super man who can will whatsoever he wants on Nigerians. This is totally unacceptable and for every misguided pro-Saraki group demonstrating, there must be twenty or more, representing the interests of the Nigerian masses who remain victims of our politicians’ anti social devises. This tit for tat must continue until those misguided senators know that it’s inadvisable for them to hop up to Abuja, any longer, because they have proved to be enemies of the Nigerian people.

    For a whole sixteen years, these people, together with some who are now outside the power loop, but all the same luxuriating in their stupendous loot, ran this country aground, pauperising its peoples in the process. Now comes President Buhari, ready to right millennial wrongs since he appreciates that stealing is corruption but they think they can hamstring his administration. Nigerians say no. Indeed, they have a surprise waiting for them from the Nigerian masses and workers whose mere N18,ooo.oo  monthly salary remains unpaid for months before President Buhari came to their aid. It will be a shame of unimaginable proportions should pauperised Nigerians look askance and allow this ongoing Abuja shenanigan by a people who, by their own admission, earn unimaginable remuneration.

    In his defence when the EFCC arrested a former Speaker of the House of Representatives, it became common knowledge that these legislators, consequent upon a decision at an executive session on 30, March 2010, earn the following un-appropriated remunerations: Speaker – N100m, Deputy Speaker, N80m, House Leader N60m, Deputy House Leader N57.5m, Chief Whip N55m, Deputy Chief Whip, N54.5m, Minority Leader, N54.5m, Minority Whip, N50m, Deputy. Minority Leader, N50m, Deputy Minority Whip, N50m’.

    Is it a surprise then they have been fighting to the death wanting to grab these sinecure positions? These remunerations may have since been increased and Nigerians can only imagine what senators must be taking home quarterly from the national purse if the above is paid to House members. This, I imagine, is why they have now decided to distract President Buhari. And Nigerians just must say enough is enough.

    We must let them know that they lie if they ever think that through their continuing belligerence, they can cause anti-democratic elements to intervene because the civilised world hugely respects President Muhammadu Buhari for that eventuality to happen. Indeed, no soldier worth his commission will attempt that, having seen what transpired in Burkina Faso this past week. These senators, who are obviously not busy except  mounting a guard of honour  for Senator and Mrs Saraki wherever EFCC takes them, should find something  worthwhile  to do with their time. They should let Saraki be man enough to answer for his own actions. Saraki comes well prepared: a medical doctor, two-time state governor and Senate President.  His fair weather friends, as he would soon know, should allow him defend himself so that, rather than being remembered for those charges, history would record him as a man who stood up for his actions. Enough, too, of this chimera. Senator Bukola Saraki cannot equate the senate. He represents only a third of Kwara State in that hallowed chamber and the charge he faces is not against the senate as an institution. Those who are saying so should know that they are being laughed at all over the civilised world.

    For Nigerian politicians in general, there can be no better way of ending this piece than to quote Joe Igbokwe in his article in The Nation of 1st October, 2015 where he wrote:”Nigeria at 55 with Muhammadu Buhari as president provides a new window for all of us to sit up and be smart in re-ordering the way we do things. The massive flow of refugees from Libya, Iraq, Syria, Yemen and Africa into Europe should be food for thought for our leaders. Boko Haram insurgents, MASSOB and Niger Delta militants remain a big challenge to all. We must rise above ethnic sentiments in order to confront these threats and build the Nigeria of our dream.”

  • Still jogging in the jungle

    To round off the independence anniversary of Nigeria, we bring you this morning excerpts from the novel, The Remains of the Last Emperor. Published in 1995, during General Abacha’s despotic blitz, the novel is as gripping in its horrifying details today as it was then. 

     FROM THE MEMOIRS OF A MAD DOCTOR (1)

    One thing that aggravates my nerves in these terrible times is the huge neon sign in front of Benitex Supermarket which pompously announces that thieves will be prosecuted. Now everybody knows that its owner, Ben Tojo, was an accountant who had stolen public money. And yet people submit themselves to all sorts of indignities in the hands of his security agents. Recently, a man was publicly flogged for stealing a loaf of bread. Each time I passed by this colossal empire of fraud, I develop skin rashes. Until I decided I could no longer bear the pain. The urge to do something desperate overcome me…..

    For about a week now, I’ve been going inside the supermarket and walking off with anything I could lay my hands on. I’m convinced that the guards and the attendants have seen me. And yet nobody had challenged me. Yesterday, I took a giant bottle of Aramis perfume. After spraying the contents in the air, I walked off with the empty bottle. I thought I would be challenged outside but nobody came. So I decided to change my approach. I walked in this morning with some of the things I had taken and dumped them right in front of one of the female cashiers.

    ‘Looks as if your guards are not as efficient as it is claimed. I’ve helped myself to all this over the past few days. There are a few more at home,’ I said with a shrug.

    The cashier examined me intently and then examined the goods intently.

    ‘All these are stolen goods,’ she said.

    ‘All these are stolen goods,’ I replied, gesticulating wildly at everything in the supermarket, including workers and shoppers.

    ‘Thieves are normally prosecuted,’ she said.

    ‘I thought so too!’ I said with bitter scorn.

    ‘We can drop the charge if you are willing to pay for them,’ she whispered to me in a very conciliatory manner.

    ‘So can we!’ I screamed.

    By this time, the shoppers who had queued behind me were openly expressing their impatience and irritation. The cashier became agitated. Frantically, she picked up the intercom.

    ‘There is a man here who had returned some stolen goods. I can’t make head or tail of what he is saying. Sounds mentally disturbed,’ she said and asked me to move aside for other shoppers.

    ‘Next customer, please.’

    Almost immediately, two hefty-looking uniformed men appeared. Each wore an ominous pair of glasses.

    ‘Is this the man?’ one of them asked.

    ‘Yes,’ the lady replied.

    ‘Oga, follow us,’ he said.

    There were shouts of, ‘thief, thief!’ at my heels as I followed them.

    Very soon, the door of what was nothing but a modern torture chamber suddenly swung open and I was elbowed in. I will never forget the horror and revulsion I felt on entering that place. Whips and lashes of all sizes and shapes, from the tender-looking to the most threatening grotesque were neatly stockpiled. A giant machine for administering electric shocks stood in the middle of the room. Ties, rags, dirty wigs, abandoned trousers, torn blouses littered everywhere. There were tiny specks of dried blood on the bare floor. Behind a desk sat a huge, potbellied man whose enormous lips and massive nose gave one the impression of a rhinoceros in a crouch. If I felt dizzy with fear and premonition, I decided not to show it.

    ‘Hmmm, looks as if Ben had invested his loot wisely after all. You need millions to protect stolen millions,’ I muttered.

    ‘What is he saying?’ the rhinoceros growled.

    ‘I think he is mad,’ one of his mates observed.

    ‘Well, if he is pretending to be mad, he wouldn’t have to pretend for long. He will really go mad when I lay my hands on his testicles,’ the rhino said and got up with a fearsome scowl.

    By now, I realized that our earlier description of his size was a vast understatement. He was as gigantic as Giant Alakuku, and his belly, shaped like an elephant worm, threatened to burst the seam of his trousers. He began to scratch his manhood in sadistic anticipation.

    ‘Sit down!’ one of them barked at me, pointing at the bare floor.

    ‘Only my dead body will sit on that floor,’ I said.

    ‘You may be right. Who knows whether by the time you get there, you may actually be dead!’ one of them said as they fastened on me and bore me down.

    ‘Now you will need to do as you are told. How many stubborn goats like you have become men of yesterday? All we need to do is to throw out your body when it is dark. The rest of the job is for the city council,’ one of them said as I writhed on the floor.

    ‘Now, what is his case again?’ the rhino asked impatiently.

    ‘He returned some goods he had stolen,’ one of them said.

    ‘I still have others at home,’ I protested.

    The rhinoceros completely ignored me. He began to chew his big finger as he figured out his verdict.

    ‘Hmmmm, at least he is partially honest. If half of the bastards are like this, we wouldn’t be sustaining these terrible losses,’ he growled.

    ‘You are right,’ one of them said.

    ‘So therefore, let him have thirty strokes as a warning. Give me a grade C koboko there,’ the rhino said, pointing at the stockpile of whips.

    ‘Not on your life! I want to be taken to court. Thieves are supposed to be prosecuted,’ I shouted.

    ‘Do you want to go to court? Can a church rat like you who cannot afford a decent meal afford a lawyer?’ one of the men shouted.

    ‘Incidentally, what do you do for a living?’ the rhino thundered impatiently.

    ‘I cure mad men. But it does appear that there are more mad men outside the asylum than inside,’ I said casually.

    ‘I think his head has knocked!’ one of them observed with cynical glee.

    ‘What do you do for a living?’ the rhino rumbled again with irritation.

    ‘I’ve told you,’ I said and tossed my ID card at them.

    One of the men picked it up.

    ‘How do we know you didn’t steal this either?’ he asked without much confidence.

    ‘Let me have it’, the rhino growled.

    The card was handed over to him and soon he began to look at the card and back at me all over in doubt and despair. I could now read confusion on their faces. I decided to make my move.

    ‘And now gentlemen – if I may ask you a foolish question – what do you do for a living?’ I asked springing up.

    There was a tense silence.

    ‘Isn’t that clear to you?’ one of them said.

    ‘Are you blind?’ the others chorused.

    ‘We work for Sonny Security – if you want to know,’ the rhino said.

    ‘I see. It is even worse than I thought. You make millions for your boss protecting stolen millions,’ I said with sympathy.

    They all stared at me in incomprehension. Only the rhino began to squint.

    ‘Isn’t it funny that a man of your education and standing in the society should become a petty thief?’ the rhino growled at last, eyeing me with suspicion and unease.

    ‘Exactly, That is the question I want to put to Ben,’ I said with a smile.

    The men looked at themselves.

    ‘Who is this Ben he is talking about?’ one of them asked his mates.

    “So you don’t even know the name of the owner of the supermarket?’ I sneered.

    ‘I think he is getting on to something dangerous,’ the rhino said.

    At this time, a private door opened and a spare, medium-sized man in an elegant French suit walked in. I instantly recognized Ben Tojo: dapper accountant, dapper playboy, dapper swindler.

    ‘Who is this man?’ he screamed, sensing from their expression that something was amiss.

    ‘He returned some of the goods he has stolen, and…’ one of them began.

    ‘And since then he has been harassing us,’ the rhino concluded miserably.

    Ben Tojo looked at the ID card on the desk and looked back at me in nervous alarm. I walked to the desk and picked the card. Calmly, I put it back in my pocket.

    ‘Ben, there is really no harassment,’ I began, addressing him with disarming familiarity. ‘They asked me whether it isn’t funny that a man of my education and standing in the society should be a petty thief and I said I have the same question for you.’

    The men looked at one another in disbelief.

    ‘Let him go, he is a mad man!’ Ben screamed and they all pushed me out like a pest.

    On my way out, I seized another giant bottle of Aramis perfume and emptied its content in the air.

     

  • Thinking aloud with Buhari

    Thinking aloud with Buhari

    Once in a while, October 1 Independence Day speeches usually contain some major new decisions of the federal government.

    This year’s 55th anniversary speech did not contain any. There were speculations that President Muhammadu Buhari may include the list of the much-awaited ministerial nominees in the speech.

    It would have been odd if he did. The list is supposed to be sent to the Senate President who will inform the Senators about the nominations after which the nominees will be screened. The names were eventually sent after the close of Senate proceedings last Thursday and Nigerians have to wait till Tuesday for the full authentic list.

    Buhari in his independence speech, however, justified the delay in naming his nominees explaining that there was need to first decide on how many ministries were needed to optimally carry the burden of governance.

    “Impatience is not a virtue. Order is more vital than speed. Careful and deliberate decisions after consultations get far better results,” he stated.

    I share President’s Buhari’s admonition that impatience is not a virtue and the need to determine the number of ministries required, but I think he took longer time than necessary to complete whatever reorganisation he was doing.

    From all indications, Buhari seems not ready to name the nominees yet four months after being sworn in. What he sent last Thursday, the last day of September which he had earlier promised, was a first list. It is not certain how soon the second or any other batch will be sent for screening.

    Based on the speculations of the nominees in the list with the Senate, who are majorly former political office holders, many have been wondering why it took so long to name the familiar faces.

    The antecedents of many of them are well known to Nigerians and what is supposed to be the unveiling of some ‘angels’ to carry out the anti-corruption crusade of the new government may well turn out to be an anti-climax.

    It is up to the Senate to determine the suitability of the nominees as Ministers. Hopefully, the Senators will ask the right questions and ensure that we have the right team needed for the major tasks ahead of the Buhari government.

    The president was right when he stated that every new government inherits problems and his is not different.

    But as he rightly further noted, what Nigerians want are solutions, quick solutions, not a recitation of problems inherited. Anxious Nigerians have reasons to expect miracles based on the campaign promises of the All Progressives Congress (APC) which was the basis of the change they voted for.

    The new government has started well on many fronts, but more action is still required to address some other issues like the economy policies which experts say are yet to be clearly defined.

    Like a Peoples’ Democratic Party (PDP)  Senator said last Thursday, Nigerians are tired of hearing of the havoc the Jonathan administration did, they want to know what the new government will do to redress the various challenges they are facing.

    Nigerians who want change, however, have to appreciate the point President Buhari made that change does not just happen. We all have a role to play and except we do, our collective dream of a better country may not materialise soon.

     

  • A dad like no other

    A dad like no other

    Tribute to a worthy father

    And it came to pass. My father, Special Apostle Gabriel Adeshina Adegboyega eventually passed on August 11, a week to his 80th birthday. Born in Lagos on August 18, 1935, Special Apostle Adegboyega was the only surviving child of his mother, the Late Madam Christiana Olaide Adegboyega (nee Gooding), who had twins thrice and lost them all. His father, Pa Jonathan Ola Adegboyega died in 1984. It was therefore not surprising that the mother was resolute that nothing would take her son this time around without having her to contend with. She put her all into it, and, luckily, the son not only survived her, he died about 20 years after the mother passed on.

    My father’s experiences in life; particularly in his 35-year sojourn in Union Bank of Nigeria (UBN) Plc have taught me that life is full of risks and every profession has its fair share of them. Being a banker is sweet, with all its allures. I can say that and confidently too because I know the ‘privileges’ I enjoyed even as a ‘common bank manager’s son’ back in those days. ‘Omo manager ni’yen’ (that’s the (bank) manager’s son), was the usual way I was introduced whenever I went to any important function with my father.

    On another level, however, I was a proud beneficiary of the bank’s scholarship designed for the children of the bank’s members of staff at a time when my father was almost nothing there in the ’70s. I was then about 12 years old. We were interviewed by a panel, including some white men (or a white man) and my father’s grooming on the common pitfalls before the day of interview greatly helped in my scaling the hurdles. Then, it was easy for the son of a nobody like me to get the scholarship because merit was the watchword. I do not know whether the scheme is still there and if so, whether it is still intact with its soul and innocence.

    Back to my dad. For a child that was thought would not even clock 15 years to have lived for about 80 years was a record. What happened was that, at age 13 (1948), just out of curiosity, the young Adegboyega went to a Christ Apostolic Church at then number 98, Lagos Street, Ebute-Metta, Lagos, where a vision revealed that he was not likely to witness his 15th birthday. This was corroborated in several other places. The solution, the pastor told him, was prayer and fasting. Despite being a boy then, Adegboyega did not take the matter lightly. He eventually got addicted, as it were, to both, until death did them part. I remember I once asked him in the ’80s why he would always be fasting when he had money to buy food and indeed ensured that the rest of his household had enough to eat and drink. He replied that I would soon find out. I have. This earth, my brother! Apologies to Kofi Awoonor!!

    The world, indeed, is war. After battling with many childhood challenges, the old man also contended with many challenges, especially in his years at UBN. I recall an occasion when (I think in 1983) I was doing my vacation job at the Osogbo branch of the bank. He indulged me the use of his personal car, a Datsun 180K saloon, to work (bank managers then were not found with the exotic cars we now see many bank workers in) but somehow, on this fateful day, I refused to take the car to the office because my father had chastised me the day before, for an offence I cannot remember. I never knew it was Providence at work. Right in the commercial bus that I took to Osogbo were some five or six old men who had an axe to grind with my dad. Their complaint was that Mr Adegboyega was not the first bank manager to come to that town (Ikirun, Osun State); they therefore did not know how he could be so ‘stingy’ with money that did not belong to him. In essence, they wanted loans but apparently were turned down by my father who was then the manager of Ikirun branch of Union Bank because they did not have collateral. They were then planning how they would use charms to eliminate him via road accident, knowing full well that he would always travel down to Lagos every month end to collect rent.

    I was in the spirit where I sat and continued praying that the men should never find out who I was because there were only few passengers in the vehicle. The about 20 minutes journey from Ikirun to Osogbo was like eternity. When I eventually alighted alive, I went quickly to the accountant, one Mr Adisa, and told him I was travelling to Lagos. He asked if I had told my daddy and I said no, but that it was important I travelled. Those days, there were no GSM phones and there was no internet. In no time, I was in Lagos. What shocked me again was that, as I was narrating my experience to my paternal grandmother in Lagos, my father also came in from Ikirun. I am not sure he planned to travel that day. As soon as I saw him, I stopped the discussion with his mother and there was perfect silence until he reminded us that we could not shut him out of whatever our discussion was because one of us was his mother and the other, his son.

    His mother then asked me to repeat what I just said and I did. What surprised me was the characteristic calmness with which he took the matter; saying that he already had a message in his church to that effect, and that it was nothing to worry about because God had taken charge of the situation.

    About two years or so before, when he was manager at the Iseyin (Oyo State) branch of the bank, he had another unforgettable experience. One Saturday morning, he simply told me to get ready for an outing. I did. I am not sure if any other person in the house knew where we were going but soon began to get worried when we moved further from the town to the thick bush on the way to some other towns after Iseyin where we then lived. Then in the middle of nowhere, we stopped. I quickly remembered the story of Abraham and Isaac. Then, as I kept wondering what our business was in the thick bush, he asked me to bring out a cellophane bag from the booth of the car. It was then I knew that the bag contained charms and amulets.

    It was at this point that he told me what our mission was: to burn those charms and amulets. But not until he had explained to me how he came about them, because that, naturally, was the next question I would have asked him. I knew that he had given up all fetish practices since becoming a Christian, and especially since he became an elder in the Cherubim and Seraphim Movement Church. One after the other he brought those things out from the bag and began to tell me who gave him what. All of them were given to him by people we knew to be his friends and who were very influential in the town, ostensibly to protect him against enemies that might want to harm him because of his strict adherence to the banking rules and procedures, especially as they pertained to loans and advances. Everybody needs loans but not everybody can afford to repay.

    He then told me the other reason why he could not have had anything to do with those charms apart from his being a Christian, which, really, is the native intelligence aspect of the incident: he said even if he was still using charms and amulets, it did not make sense for him to use those ones because he was an ‘odd man out’. In other words, all the people that gave the things to him were indigenes of the town; how then could he be sure that they all meant well with the charms and amulets?

    I can go on and on. In spite of its allures, however, I pity bankers because many of them had gone to prison for crimes they never actually committed. I pity them too because many must have died prematurely over loans and advances that they either refused to give or that they gave but which later turned out to be bad loans. Be that as it may, I must thank whoever or whatever averted UBN’s dissolution under Charles Soludo’s ‘consolidation’ of the banking sector in 2005 for contributing immensely to my father’s longevity. The bank was his life and he was ever proud to introduce himself as a retired Union Bank manager, with a big emphasis on the bank’s name.  But what has happened to the banking sector in the country? Where is the honesty of old, the hard work and discipline  that still made it possible for someone like my father with only limited academic qualifications to rise to the position of manager in an established bank like UBN? We need some soul-searching.

    Of course this piece would not be complete without mentioning the fact that my father was a strict disciplinarian. This runs through in almost all the tributes on him. He was also a devout Christian.  I was therefore not surprised that he died in the course of a sickness which began on August 5 on his way to a midweek service, and from which he never recovered.

    May his soul rest in perfect peace as he returns to Mother Earth on October 10.

     

    This column will be on leave for the next few weeks. Please bear with me.

  • Power separation: rule of law or tricks of politics?

    There was evidence last week that many members of the 8th Senate acted in a way to suggest that they need to be reminded about the need for lawmakers in particular to adhere religiously to the rule of law at all times, if, ironically, they are not to contribute to the collapse of democracy in the country. 

    A principle of governance in which all persons, institutions and entities, public and private, including the State itself, are accountable to laws that are publicly promulgated, equally enforced and independently adjudicated, and which are consistent with international human rights norms and standards. It requires, as well, measures to ensure adherence to the principles of supremacy of law, equality before the law, accountability to the law, fairness in the application of the law, separation of powers, participation in decision-making, legal certainty, avoidance of arbitrariness and procedural and legal transparency. –UN Secretary-General on the Rule of Law

    Nigeria’s democracy may amount to nothing if the principle of rule of law is endangered in any form. It will not matter if threat to the rule of law emanates from any arm of government: executive, legislative, and judicial. More important, commitment to the rule of law cannot afford to be just rhetorical; it has to be religious. There was evidence last week that many members of the 8th Senate acted in a way to suggest that they need to be reminded about the need for lawmakers in particular to adhere religiously to the rule of law at all times, if, ironically, they are not to contribute to the collapse of democracy in the country.

    Shortly after the appearance of Mr. Bukola Saraki at the Code of Conduct Tribunal, 83 senators were reported to have expressed on the floor of Senate a vote of confidence in Saraki’s presidency of the upper house. This announcement was sequel to a report that about 50 senators accompanied Mr. Saraki to the Tribunal when he made his first appearance there. During the debate preceding the expression of vote of confidence in Saraki by 83 of his colleagues, individual senators were reported to have stated that the principle of separation of powers had been endangered by the invitation of Saraki to appear before the Code of Conduct Tribunal to defend himself over allegation of misconduct. Senators’ conflation of two distinct issues: Saraki’s presidency of the senate and Saraki’s need to respond to charges of false declaration of his assets confuses issues and misses the point.

    Saraki is being charged for alleged misconduct committed long before he became senate president. Whatever anyone thinks about the politics of the charges, Saraki is being tried in an open court and therefore has a transparent platform to defend himself according to the law. A superior position that should have been taken by Saraki’s admirers is to give him more free time to defend himself at the Tribunal without having to worry about day-to-day management of the senate. Taking such decision does not derogate from Saraki’s innocence. If anything, it is capable of enriching the principle of rule of law. Mr. Saraki should have been viewed by those who rushed a vote of confidence in him as innocent until he is proven guilty by his accusers. With that mindset, it should have been clear to Saraki’s colleagues that he does not need any special show of solidarity by his fellow senators to boost his confidence. Having pleaded not guilty to all the charges, Saraki should not need any pampering by his colleagues. All he needs are good lawyers and honest support of all categories of citizens who believe in Saraki’s innocence.

    Without doubt, the Senate President’s confidence-boosting comrades acted with very little consideration for ethical standards expected of lawmakers and other citizens in public life. Knowingly or otherwise, Saraki’s 83 senators acted as if they had no faith in the rule of law and independence of the judiciary. As the nation’s lawmakers, they ought to act more ethically by allowing the different branches of government of which they are a part to do their job without any harassment or intimidation. It is, therefore, not surprising that citizens have called the vote of confidence in Saraki an attempt to intimidate the judicial system of the country. It should have occurred to the 83 senators that their rush of vote of confidence in Saraki, while he is facing charges of misconduct for actions taken long before he became senate president, is also liable to be viewed as an attempt to rig the judicial process, thus smashing the principle of separation of powers that the senators believed they could strengthen with expression of vote of confidence.

    On his own part, Senator Saraki should not have had any difficulty in showing superior moral leadership to his colleagues’ by withdrawing himself from the position of senate president while facing trial. Contrary to common belief, doing so would not have shown any weakness on his part or of fear of losing his senate presidency. If anything, it would have raised his moral stature among lawmakers and citizens who subscribe to high ethical standards in public life. It is true that the constitution does not call for temporary withdrawal from senate on his part, but he could have benefited tremendously from applying the wisdom; “discretion is the better part of valour” to the situation of divided attention caused by having to go to court on charges of misconduct while functioning as senate president. This is what most of his counterparts in other democratic countries would have done.

    The rush of vote of confidence by 83 senators from the ruling and the opposition parties has more implications than may appear to the average observer of public affairs. Some social media pundits are already saying that the vote of confidence denotes fear about the impact of the case on Saraki’s current political power and influence. There is also the possibility that such fear may not only be about Saraki. It is likely that the 83 senators may also be afraid of what can happen to them, should the executive branch, preoccupied as it is with a manifesto to fight corruption more aggressively than before, choose to open many more files of lawmakers, ministers, and civil servants.

    Furthermore, the pressure from the NASS in the last three weeks on the executive to release 64 billion naira constituency allowance to lawmakers and the legislators’ resistance of citizens’ strident calls for review of salaries and allowances of lawmakers suggest readiness on the part of the legislative branch to deploy its political arsenal to neutralise the call for higher ethical standards in government. While citizens are worrying about the sense in providing constituency allowance for lawmakers, senators are giving the executive an oppressive deadline to pay lawmakers’ constituency allowances that could not be paid last year by the Jonathan presidency on account of dwindling revenue. The pressure for payment of 2014 constituency allowances for new and returning lawmakers smacks of efforts to divert the attention of the executive from focusing on realignment of the country’s finances in view of continuous fall in national revenue.

    If citizens want change, they have to pay close attention to direct and indirect attempts by the senate to politicise what is essentially a moral issue. Rushing a vote of confidence to divert citizens’ attention from what is a moral or ethical case is absurd and diversionary. Similarly, putting pressure on the executive to pay constituency allowance to the National Assembly at a time that calls for wholesale rationalisation should be high on the priority list of the country is capable of creating avoidable crisis between the executive and the legislature. From the consistency in his public declarations – national and international- there is no doubt that President Buhari is serious about his resolve to reduce corruption, mismanagement, and waste. Nevertheless, citizens have to show unmistakable interest in sustaining the ethic of change, in view of growing enthusiasm of some lawmakers to return to the business-as-usual model of governance.

     

     

  • Those of us who are ‘older’ than the country: October 1st reflections

    Those of us who are ‘older’ than the country: October 1st reflections

    It is Thursday, October 1, 2015. I am writing these words, this column about six hours after the event I am about to reveal took place. I had just finished teaching my last class for the week at Emerson Hall. The class had gone very well and for this reason, I was in a pleasant mood. All teachers like their classes to go well no matter how long they have been teaching and how many teachers they have produced in the course of a long career. And there was also the fact that I was looking forward to a long “weekend” that would go beyond Sunday and Monday to Tuesday, the day on which my first class next week would take place. It was within the soft emotional glow of these pleasant thoughts that one of the students in the class that I had just taught approached me and with a warm, beaming smile said to me: “Happy anniversary, Prof”. A little taken aback, I replied, “what anniversary”? realizing at the very instant that I asked the question that she is Nigerian and was referring to the anniversary of the country’s independence. And so before she could respond to my puzzling question, I said, “Oh, but of course, happy anniversary!” To this, I then added a rather mumbled explanation that my initial response of “what anniversary?” is a product of the fact that I normally do not remember birthday anniversaries, my own and our country’s included.

    In the short conversation that followed this initial exchange with this young compatriot, the thing that stood out the most in my memory is the fact that she was very enthusiastic, very hopeful about many things “Nigerian”, so much so that she effectively sent a powerful if subliminal message to me that her state of mind, her euphoria distinctly reflected a generational outlook on the present historical period. She told me that she was in her senior year as a Biology major intending to go on to medical school with hopes of eventually qualifying and being certified as a medical doctor. She said that the majority of Nigerian-born students at Harvard were majoring in subjects that would lead to professions in medicine, engineering, law and business. She said mine was one of the very few courses in the Humanities she had taken in her three and half years at Harvard. She said that she is a member of the Nigerian Students Association and that they were planning a big gala in celebration of the country’s 55th anniversary on October 11 and I should please be sure to be there as guests were going to be regaled with many festive items like delectable Nigerian cuisine, music, a fashion show and a grand ball.

    Oh, to be young and full of hope and a joyful openness to all of life’s possibilities again! This was undoubtedly the sentiment that I went away with earlier this afternoon after that conversation with this young student of mine. But closely following in the wake of this good-natured “envy” of the young by a man about to enter the eighth decade of his life was the recollection that throughout the first decade of our independence in the 1960s, I had also, like this young woman, been very hopeful, very sanguine about what the country, together with my sense of its place in Africa and the world, had in store for me and members of my generation who did well at school and university. Let me be very specific here.

    When, at the end of the first decade of independence I graduated from U.I. I was not unaware of the fact that I was one of a tiny fraction of the members of my generation that had received a first-rate education that could take me to any educational or professional heights that I aspired to, not only in Nigeria but anywhere in the world. Over the decades, I have written extensively about the elitist privileges, together with the scholarships, that made possible the education that I received at U.I. as an undergraduate and in America as a graduate student. Additionally, I have written on countless occasions that my awareness of this elitism was, I hoped, neutralized by the fact that I and other members of the radicalized segments of our generation dedicated ourselves to extending the privileges from which had enormously benefitted to the less privileged groups and individuals in our society. However, as one decade succeeded another in the post-independence era, the realization gradually dawned on us that it was our fate to be the very last “fortunate” generation among the other generations of living Nigerians who, in the words of the title of this piece, are “older” than the country.

    It is perhaps necessary at this stage in these reflections to clarify exactly what I have in mind in the phrase “older than the country” together with the observation that I belong to the very last “fortunate” generation among this composite cohort of Nigerians that are “older’ than the country. The phrase “older than the country” can be quite succinctly explained as a literal and perhaps even reductive understanding of the age of the country as appertaining only to the post-independence period. But we all know that with regard to the peoples and societies of which it is made, “Nigeria” is much, much older than 55! On this account, I and members of the small demographic group of Nigerians that are older than 55 – far less than 10% of the population – are not older than the country in any substantive sense. In other words, the “birth” of the nation is unlike the birth of an individual, any individual: one is subject to the biological determinism of one single life and its eventual demise; the other transcends biology and includes aeons of time and experience that come in stages or cycles of growth and decline, retrogression and renewal.

    The phrase “the very last fortunate generation” among living Nigerians over the age 55 has its resonance within this idea of cycles of decline and renewal in the stages of the historical being and becoming of the country. Let me be very concrete about what I have in mind here. Only five years separated my graduation from U.I. and my return to the university as a young lecturer but within that very short space of time, all the privileges, all the conveniences and all the rituals of an Oxbridge-type education that we had enjoyed as undergraduates had vanished completely and forever in the experience of all subsequent generational cohorts of university students since that time. Some of the vanished privileges were trivial while some were decisive and life-changing. Let me give only one example of the more trivial and ridiculous dimensions of our “fortunate” generational experience: Sunday afternoon “tea” comprising tea or coffee as beverages, with cakes and ice cream as complements all consumed in unison with the Hall Master and the Wardens seated at the High Table. By the end of the 1968/69 session Kuti Hall, of which I was a resident member, was the only hall of residence that was still clinging to a strict observance of this ritual. But during the second term of that academic year, the hall authorities decided to follow the lead of the other halls of residence and do away with Sunday afternoon “tea”. We successfully revolted against the cessation of the ritual and to my eternal embarrassment I was one of the leaders of the revolt!

    The real “fortune” of our experience as the very last generation to be truly privileged with regard to the conditions under which we were tutored can be gauged by the inestimable fact that we were the last set of Nigerian university students to receive a qualitative education that was the equal of university education anywhere else in the world. I should qualify this portentous claim by two observations. First, it is my belief, my fundamental article of faith that quality education should be the birth right, the civil right of all the young citizens of our country, of indeed all the countries of the world. Second, quality education did not vanish entirely from the Nigerian university system with my generation; it was just the case that as from around the late 1970s, you could find it only in bits and fragments that were unequally distributed among the faculties and lecturers of our universities. For instance, when I taught at both Ibadan and Ife between 1975 and 1987, most students knew which faculties were reputed to have good numbers of conscientious and dedicated lecturers and which faculties were deemed relatively indifferent to high standards of teaching and research. By contrast, in our day, virtually all faculties were deemed reputable; moreover, we had the environment, the facilities for quality education that was equal to any other national tertiary educational systems in the world.

    In bringing these reflections to a close, I must now disclose the reason why my encounter with that student in my class earlier this afternoon of Thursday, October 1, 2015 sparked these thoughts in me. As we talked and she seemed to be proud of, and was rejoicing in how well Nigerian students at Harvard were doing, I wanted to gently remind her that Harvard students are some of the world’s most privileged students; I had an inclination to remind her that hundreds of thousands of university students in Nigeria and millions around our continent and other developing regions of the world do not have even the most elementary infrastructures and the environment conductive to the kind of education that could prepare them for the demands of the world of the 21st century. Of course, I did not utter any of these thoughts to the student; I did not have the heart to spoil her spontaneous celebration that seemed to me both personal and collective in the sense that she was speaking for herself as well as for other Nigerian-born students at Harvard.

    This leads me to the most important point that I wish to make in these reflections on the 55th anniversary of our country’s independence. I am afraid it is a gloomy thought; it is a thought that puts a damper on any hopeful prospects Nigerians might or should be feeling in the wake of the change that came with the last presidential elections: revitalizing education is by far the toughest task that Buhari and his administration will face and I have very serious doubts that they will be up to the challenge. This challenge is far more daunting than the war against corruption and I don’t think the new administration is aware of this. Yes, there are other seemingly intractable challenges like widespread poverty, joblessness and insecurity of life and possessions in many parts of the country. Heaven knows that these other challenges are monumental in their own right. But the challenge of reforming and revitalizing education in our country from its current utterly broken state is the mother and the father of all the other challenges that Buhari, his administration and the new ruling party will face, but I don’t think they are in the least bit aware of this fact. This will be a topic that we shall be exploring in future essays in this column.

    • Biodun Jeyifo

    bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

     

  • Conversation with Herbert Macaulay

    Conversation with Herbert Macaulay

    It is October 1st, Nigeria’s independence anniversary. Winter is fast approaching in Washington. It is unseasonably cold, and as dawn retreated for daylight, you could smell the sharp and biting Arctic air as if one is trapped in a giant refrigerated tent. Like a practiced flaneur, the celebrated hangabout, snooper has slipped out of his hotel room and is already on Thomas Circle.

    Very soon afterwards, you arrive at Massachusetts Avenue. The name itself evokes power and glory; it exudes historic distinction and the very essence of American greatness.  You remember the Boston Tea party and the beginning of the end for Imperial Britain. Empires always begin to unravel at the very moment of their maximum power. You remember the great learning institutions of Massachusetts. That is the intellectual engine room of American supremacy. Armies of ideas clash relentlessly, transforming America and changing the world in the process. You remember the dashing and dazzling Kennedys and their Hyannis Port. And you remember and wish Barack Obama well.

    There is nothing more exciting and exhilarating than taking an early morning walk in a historic and powerful metropolis. The power and magic of the great city draw and tantalize you. You are lost in the anonymity of the surging crowd. But somehow you manage to retain your distinct and discrete identity. As you watch, you are also aware of being watched. As you gape and gawp at the modern pyramids, you marvel at the infinite fecundity of the human imagination. You may not appreciate the arrogance and boorishness of many Americans, but this is the summit of human advancement for now, and there is nothing anybody can do about that.

    Snooper is a notorious walkabout. Twice in this incarnation, he had been accosted on suspicion of wandering with intent. But ambling about in post 9/11 America in the early hours of the morning has its particular perils. And not when you are very close to the White House, the greatest power complex on earth for now. As the polite and courteous Indian-born driver taking you to your hotel from the airport darkly hinted, there are at least twenty five different undercover agencies operating in the Washington area. Walking is not a crime, but you must mind your body language. The possibilities are quite dreadful and spine-chilling. What if one is suddenly pulled over as a suspected disciple of Ibn Khaldun, the great fourteenth century Egyptian historian, philosopher and cultural theorist? Fear chills the spine. Even as one knocks this out on the computer, you have a feeling that something might trigger off the alarm bell.

    But back to Massachusetts Avenue, the fear of being pulled over forces snooper to affect an elegant royal carriage; a Black Edwardian dandy in the manner of the political Liberator and uber-nationalist , Herbert Samuel Heelas Macaulay. True to its name, Massachusetts Avenue is indeed suffused with power and glory. The Avenue houses so many foundations, the power-houses of American restless regeneration. It is only in America that you can have so many foundations, a glorious tribute to the redemptive and restorative power of ruthless capitalism. Money-making can be stretched beyond the limits of logic and human possibilities just to prove a point. But that is where it ends. Sam Walton, the owner of the Walmart chain, was still driving his old banger while making his astronomical sums. And what about Bill and Melinda Gates who are models of rectitude and restraint despite their outlandish wealth?

    You walk rapidly pass the John Hopkins University school of Advanced International Studies and the Brookings Institute. Massachusetts Avenue is truly living up to its billing. You are truly in the precincts of some of the major totems of America’s cultural imperialism. The wintry cold begins to bite harder. Against one’s better judgment, one had departed Nigeria without adequate preparations for this mugging weather. Now, one is being gradually mauled into a state of disorientation by the freezing atmosphere. You remember once again that back in Nigeria, it is Independence Day. In anger, you curse the memory of the leaders who have made it impossible for you to spend the day at home in Nigeria and in rest and reflection.

    Now, you are passing the Australian embassy and all the pent up demons suddenly erupted. How was it possible for a bunch of no-hopers and scoundrels to create a first-class First World country in a record time while sub-Saharan Africa continues to sink deeper in a historic hellhole? As the cold bites harder and a state of semi-stupor sets in, a dandified and regal-looking man with majestic walrus whiskers suddenly appears to be walking with snooper. He was straight out of Victorian Lagos, and was quite a splendid sight to behold. His diction was English public school with crummy and creamy velvet.

    “It is Independence Day, and how are you people coping?” he asked with stentorian authority.

    “We are not coping at all”, snooper moaned in distress.

    “You must take heart and be bold because nation-building is not a colonial tea party or a one-day wonder”, the old man noted with avuncular pity.

    “Take heart, take heart, that is what they all say, but no heart is made of stone”, snooper noted with a churlish whine.

    “ I understand that….”, the old man began but was rudely and brutishly silenced.

    “Don’t understand. I’m cold and feverish. In any case, one of our leaders once referred to Nigeria as the mistake of 1914. I agree with him”, I mumbled rather disjointedly.

    “Who said that and when?” the old man asked in quiet alarm.

    “Ahmadu Bello in 1953”.

    “Ah, you know I left the scene in 1946. In any case, who is Ahmadu Bello? I handed over to Zik”, the old man noted in regret.

    “Zik lost command and headed for Enugu. Even Awolowo said Nigeria is a mere geographical expression”, I noted.

    “Ah that Ijebu boy again? I knew he was up to no good. I thought he disappeared for good before the good lord recalled me”, the old political wizard croaked with good-natured mischief.

    “He went to London to read law”, I replied.

    “Ah that meant that he found a way round his bankruptcy? All of you must know that it is too late to start complaining about the size of Nigeria. The sacrifices have been too great. Do you know that I died from the pneumonia contacted in Kano?” the great man queried.

    “You left it too late”, I moaned in acute distress.

    What?” the old man asked in disbelief.

    “The handshake across the Niger”.

    “But the white people wouldn’t allow us to interact. You know I fought them to a standstill”, the old man noted with an expansive flourish.

    “May be, they have a point there”, I noted.

    “What point could they have had ?”, the old man wondered aloud.

    “It was not the first time contact with strangers will prove fatal to you and your family”. I observed with an intellectual frown.

    For a long time, the old man eyed the younger man with a mixture of suspicion and wary respect. Then affection and warmth returned to his majestic hooded eyes. “I know what you are talking about, but it doesn’t matter. Out of evil comes great good.  In 1809, the slave raiders from the north sacked the village of Osogun and captured the father of my mother, the great Samuel Ajayi Crowther. They sold them to Portuguese slave traders. But we thank god for small mercies. Without that incident, there would have  been no Bishop Samuel Ajayi Crowther, no Abigail Macaulay, my mother, no CMS Grammar school,  and no Herbert Samuel Heelas Macaulay, my humble self. Tell your compatriots not to despair and that adversity has its sweet rewards”.

    With that the old man vanished into thin air, like the old wizard of Kirsten Hall that he was. I was also beginning to feel warm and comfortable. It was not a question of magic or dramatic recovery. The mundane truth is that we have arrived at our destination on Massachusetts Avenue in Washington and the place is warm and cosy. A different kind of fireworks was already in the works that morning.

     

    (First published October, 3rd 2009)

  • US, Russia and the Syrian dilemma

    US, Russia and the Syrian dilemma

    Syria’s troubles were inspired by the fallout of the Arab Spring that began in Tunisia in December 2010. From the time Syria got embroiled in the Arab Spring in January 2011 till today, more than 200,000 people are reported to have died. Yet, the end of the crisis is not in sight. Instead, thanks to foreign involvement by Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) militants, United States and its allies, Russia and Iran, the Syrian crisis is festering badly and threatening to spiral out of control. One of the chief reasons for the stalemate is of course the fact that the ruling family, the al-Assads, belongs to the minority Alawite tribe, which is about 10-12 percent of the 23 million Syrian people.

    The active entrance of Russia into the crisis, particularly its bombing raids, are predicated on two main grounds: the fear that al-Assad’s fall was imminent; and the hesitations of the US and its allies. Indeed, under President Barack Obama, the US has appeared to be in retreat in the Middle East. America’s Sunni allies are increasingly frustrated by Mr Obama’s indecisiveness, while its Shiite enemies are increasingly emboldened. Sensing that Mr Obama was unduly too calculating and reluctant to deploy American power in the restive region, and even beyond, Russia’s Vladimir Putin, inspiring a Russian revival, has become more assertive.

    It is not certain that Russia will necessarily succeed in Syria where the US and its allies have appeared to fail, but Mr Putin, though a little imprudent, is determined to ensure the survival of Russian ally, President Bashar al-Assad. Right from the presidency of George W. Bush, US policies in the Middle East have yielded ground to the less bashful and more pugnacious Mr Putin. That push has seen the Russians expand and consolidate their borders in some of the former Soviet Republics, including Georgia and Ukraine, and are now expanding more confidently into the Middle East. With the American society at war with itself over racism, loss of religious values, and shooting madness, the US is gradually losing ground and influence globally, and in particular in the Middle East, as the world’s policeman and moral custodian. That decline will continue for some time to come, propelled more by its internal contradictions than by external pressures.

    Meanwhile, sadly, Syria is being battered relentlessly by foreign forces with different motives and competing objectives. Mr al-Assad should have read the handwriting on the wall in 2011 and emplaced a transition to a new, more vigorous and open society. That chance is now lost, perhaps forever. The precipitous and unguarded collapse of Muammar Gaddafi of Libya consequent upon the Arab Spring and the deliberate orchestration of the fall of Saddam Hussein of Iraq by the US predisposed both countries to anomie. The dilemma for Syria is that, as Mr Putin argues, should Mr al-Assad fall, there are no guarantees the transition can be managed well. Yet, as long as he remains in power, peace cannot be assured. As many analysts have also argued, the rising influence of Iran in the region and the anomie in the Middle East are a product of the diplomatic folly and miscalculations of the US.

  • PDP gets a head start on 2019 race

    PDP gets a head start on 2019 race

    After inquiring into why it lost the last election disastrously, the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) post-election review committee is reported to have zoned the presidential ticket to the North. It makes sense. Though that step is coming many months late, that is probably the only way to counter the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), which has so far been unable to rein in its lawmakers and other obstreperous members. With their man, Deputy Senate President Ike Ekweremadu, still having a foothold in the upper echelons of the Senate, the PDP is not really out of power. They will consolidate the small advantage they have and move to higher ground well entrenched and reinforced.

    On the other hand, with President Muhammadu Buhari still embracing a feeble approach to power and politics, and with Senate President Bukola Saraki seemingly taunting his party, the APC may have unwittingly surrendered the head start to the PDP. PDP lawmakers and rebel APC lawmakers with PDP background have somewhere to go if the APC unravels — they can always identify with the PDP. But core APC politicians, elected or appointed, whether ACN or CPC or ANPP, have nowhere to go. Will they recognise the danger of extermination staring them in the face and proactively take effective measures before they are doomed?

  • Happy birthday, dear ol’ girl!

    Happy birthday, dear ol’ girl!

    In all fairness, some of us have wept for you; some have cried out in your defence; some have even shed their blood on your behalf. But it just appears that those who have given up next to nothing for you are the ones bent on taking everything you have to give.

    Happy birthday, Nigeria.

    I am sending this birthday card to you a little late, but you know what they say, better late than never. Besides, I say that the best ones come last, e.g. wine at a party. I would have sent it earlier anyways, but I have been a little stumped on what exactly to write to cheer you up. What with all your dismal and chequered stories of wasted opportunities, generations and even until recently, lives, it’s all we can do to hang on to our seats in this cinema of horror passing horror! The years do add up, though don’t they, ol’ girl? Just look at you, all grown up at fifty-five! What, still growing? Well, it is a matter of perspective, isn’t it, to determine who is grown and who is growing. But, if you say you are still growing, then so be it. I mean, when a dog barks, who is to argue with him on what he means by it exactly?

    Look at me now, at your age, I considered myself all grown. How I knew? Well, by the time you begin to notice that when you look in the mirror, you see some smooth areas of your skin surrounded by many variegated lines of wrinkles; or when you walk with your eyes on the ground so that you don’t fall cause if you do, they are going to need a crane to pick you up; or when you bend down, you have to hold your waist as you rise cause it’s all gone, baby gone; or when you keep telling people not to block your view by standing in front of the TV until someone tells you that there’s no one there, it’s your eyes that have gone rheumy; I say when these things begin to happen, you know you are going somewhere. Trust me, I know; at that age, there is no more ‘up’ to grow to, it’s only ‘down’ baby, down.

    You see, girl, fifty-five is the age when people tell you a lot of lies, and because you are so vulnerable, you believe them. People actually tell you that you are still looking good. Don’t be fooled, looks don’t mean a thing. Ask Marilyn Monroe, ask Jackie Kennedy, ask me. Did you say I don’t belong in that group? Come now, is this the time for splitting hairs?

    Anyway, people will also tell you, how strong you are! Again, don’t be fooled; you know what support cast you have to walk with. It is just you and your doctor who both know how many pills you have to pop in a day: a blue one for your rheumatic joints, a white one for diabetes, a red one for hypertension and a green one to help you remember your spouse’s name each morning.

    Fifty-five is clearly also the age when you need a little help from your first child to remember the names of his/her siblings. Those ones don’t usually want anything to do with your fossilised self anyway. It is also the age when your friends have to gather and eat your cake for you not because you like to see them around you (truth is you would rather not) but because you cannot eat any of that cake yourself if your doctor has his way. Girl, at fifty-five, you have a lot to be thankful for; you get by with the help of your friends.

    Oh dear, you say you have not been very lucky with your own set of friends, associates, citizens, or well wishers, and there doesn’t appear to be much you can do about them? Yeah, I know, your friends appear to be killing you right now. I forget now which nineteenth century writer said he’d rather be killed by his friends (they love him) than his enemies (that would be adding insult to injury). So, consider yourself lucky. In all fairness, some of us have wept for you; some have cried out in your defence; some have even shed their blood on your behalf. But it just appears that those who have given up next to nothing for you are the ones bent on taking everything you have to give, not caring whether they destroy you in the process. They just don’t seem to like you.

    I know, I know, you have been given so much in trust for us. Look at the extremely vast areas of very, very arable land you have in your keeping; look at the very vast amounts of solid and liquid minerals you are holding for our collective benefits; look at the vast amounts of human resources you have placed at our disposal. Yet, we have all but ruined you for our selfish and parochial interests.

    You have certainly seen it all, haven’t you?  You have been ruled by vagabonds and killers; you have accommodated innocent mass-assisted suicide hysterics-cum-citizens who have turned killers; you have also tolerated the inactive ones who are neither killers in government nor are in citizens’ bombing squads but have done nothing to help you. You have regarded everything and everyone with your bemused, sad and lonely gaze with admirable equanimity. Yet, I know you’re bleeding for yourself and for us even if we cannot see your bleeding heart. Because we are so blind and blinkered, no one has lifted a hand in your favour. So now, you have no one to call your own. There are people in Nigeria, but no Nigerians!

    Many of the things we do appear to pitch us on your side. See how much religiosity there is in the land. The churches are all but filled with converts gyrating endlessly in ecstasy while the mosques are pelting out calls for prayers at all hours, both waking day and sleeping night. Yet, not one of us shows that we even know the Almighty in any remote sense. Our psyches have been collectively and unidirectionally tuned towards taking, taking, taking out of the national cake, even killing for it while giving nothing to you in return. We are all, to a man, on no one’s side but our own; and you are all alone.

    Actually, you are to blame, partially. You have given us this much really, without adding the necessary and commensurate intelligence that would enable us use all these effectively for the greater good. Look at so many other lands with no resources whatsoever; whether liquid or solid – just see how they are able to manage the only resource nature has given them, their brains. Why did you not cut us a large size of the stuff too, brains I mean? I am seeing that in the Nigerian, it would appear that the black man is really short on the stuff. This is why avowed killers are in government and people help themselves to government funds in amounts that rival the national budgets of some countries. Still wonder that a people can be so blessed and still be so stupid?! It is all your fault.

    In spite of all these though, ol’ girl, I don’t despair; you still have a fan club rooting for you. I believe your bones will still rise from the ashes to gloriousness. The path might be long, rough and stony but the light at the tunnel will continue to be a strong pull for you. On this your birthday, dear girl, here’s my glass raised in a toast to you: may your story be long, your tail be short and your ending wear a hat. Happy birthday ol’ girl!

    • This article was first published in 2012 and it is still as relevant today as it was then.