Category: Sunday

  • Fed Govt position on Boko Haram? Why, it’s guesswork all the way

    Fed Govt position on Boko Haram? Why, it’s guesswork all the way

    The Council of State will not be the first body to set a deadline of sorts for ending the Boko Haram menace. The police, military and President Goodluck Jonathan himself had before this latest surge of enthusiasm set their own deadlines, all of them assured that the sect would be vanquished on a given date. They have all been spectacularly wrong, of course, with Boko Haram repeatedly putting the noses of these casual soothsayers out of joint. But refusing to be discomfited by the failure of past soothsayers, the council has suggested that everything would be done to end the Boko Haram insurgency by December, some four or five from now.

    Addressing the press in company with a few other governors and top security officers on July 31, Governor Babangida Aliyu of Niger State suggested: “So, all the things came to the fore at the meeting and subsequently, each of us made it a deliberate resolution not to be bi-partisan or non-partisan, to support the President to make sure that we get rid of this insurgency and indeed suggesting that this should happen before December.” Why the governor and his colleagues, and indeed the entire council itself, do not realise the implication of setting a date is hard to fathom. Surely they must understand that the benefit of inspiring the public with unguarded optimism is less harmful than setting a date and Boko Haram provocatively exposing their impotence. Well, they have set a date; they must head to the guillotine and lose their heads or return with the heads of the Jacobins by December.

    But what is even more troubling about the Council of State resolution is this wisecrack from Governor Aliyu: “We must understand the boundaries of leadership and also the responsibilities that are involved. Leadership is not about beauty contest. In leadership, you must take difficult decisions and really go about implementing them.” The governor is nearly right. It is true that leadership has its responsibilities, and often these call for the taking of difficult decisions. But the problem with governments in Nigeria, as virtually all of them in the council are guilty of, and President Jonathan is even guiltier of, is that often the so-called difficult decisions are nothing but unwise decisions. Public policy in Nigeria is replete with foolish decisions. In short both the president and governors have taken more unwise decisions than they have taken difficult decisions.

    Take for instance the so-called difficult decision that confronts President Jonathan on the Chibok abductions. The president has at various times, and depending on his audience, minced his words, hesitated or despaired. Less than two weeks ago, newspapers quoted him voicing out his dilemma on that unsavoury topic of abductions. He argued he was unsure what to do; for whether he swapped the girls, and was accused of setting a dangerous precedent, or he attacked the girls’ captors, and was accused of reckless endangerment, he was certain to be damned. It appeared to mean he was more comfortable perching on the safe horns of a dilemma than deciding one way or the other what options he could live with. Alas, but almost certainly not finally, the president has for the umpteenth time conceded he had begun negotiating with Boko Haram through third parties. He had perished the inadaptable Sri Lankan ‘Total War’ strategy, which he briefly toyed with, and any other strategy for that matter.

    What is now clear is that whatever strategy would be found to resolve the Chibok abductions and end the Boko Haram war would come as a result of the president’s considerable fumbling and wobbling. There will be no scientific or rational plan to end the war, thus rendering the Council of State’s timetable capricious, insulting and provocative. Success cannot be ruled out, but it would be undeserving and probably against the run of play. Indeed, the remarks made by governors and state officials after the meeting raised more apprehension than it resolved fears. It became obvious why the country is misgoverned, and more especially why the president, upon whom officials doted and fawned, has become increasingly tyrannical.

    It is on occasions such as this, when the president seems to have his way without the restraining voice, conscience or remonstrances of the Council of State, that Nigerians appreciate the gratuitous rebuke past leaders like Chief Obasanjo and Gen Muhammadu Buhari sometimes hurl at Dr Jonathan. Rebuke is clearly not enough, as the mismanaged Boko Haram menace shows, but it can amount to something if politicians recognise the danger of supporting the president only because he appears to be punishing their regional or state enemies. It is also significant that Gen Buhari and Chief Obasanjo excused themselves from the meeting. They did not indicate why they were absent, whether inadvertently or deliberately. But their absence was significant. There are sadly too many members of the Council of State who can’t look the vengeful Dr Jonathan in the face and tell him he is wrong or insensitive. Nor, apparently was there any former president in last week’s council meeting able to tell the president he had misplaced his priorities and was leading the country down the blind alley of arbitrary rule.

    The president often encourages himself that the Boko Haram menace would soon end. He is right. Whatever has a beginning must end one day. But the fact is that he has done precious little to end the war or to even limit the sufferings the victims and the economy are enduring. Since he inherited the insurgency, the only seemingly bright idea he had brought into it is to set up the victims support fund, which some days ago raised the implausibly high figure of nearly N60bn. But both the fund and the amount raised pose two disturbing questions. To raise such a staggering amount, even in the cause of public good, should make economy watchers and tax analysts ponder just what kind of economic structure we run, and just how proficiently the system compels philanthropists to respect their obligations.

    Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, it is incredible that to fulfill its obligations to society, especially in emergencies and great moments of national distress, the government has often relied on the public-spiritedness of the rich segment of the society. Both in the great flood of 2012 and in the current insurgency, the Jonathan government has relied almost exclusively on donations, some of which are not even honoured, thus giving the impression of governmental benevolence. Rather than put legislation in place to compensate victims of terrorism as other societies do, the government has nothing in place to recompense the public for government’s failure to perform its constitutional duties of protecting citizens. This is why in Abuja and elsewhere, victims of terrorism find themselves lacking the funds to access the right medical care, even after the president or governor had visited and given empty promises. The government has no business organising charity for its people. That should be left to individuals, private organisations and NGOs.

    The country yearns for a concise and possibly multifaceted approach to quelling the insurgency. The strategy should include the speedy rescue of the girls from Boko Haram captivity, a captivity that has blighted the country’s image and sullied the reputation of the president himself. It should also include caring for victims of terrorism at government expense, while not ignoring victims who have become internally displaced or have become refugees in Chad and other countries. It should also crucially include understanding the issues that predispose the country to insurgency and shape its responses, as well as finding panaceas for present and long term challenges, a task that appears beyond this divisive and insular government. In fact at the moment, the Jonathan government has approached the insurgency and other threats to national security with all the desultoriness it can manage, with all the guesswork at its disposal, and with such abject half-heartedness that nearly everyone is left with the impression the government is profiting from the misery of the people.

  • The model secondary schools of Governor Amaechi: a portentous conversation at Eleme

    The model secondary schools of Governor Amaechi: a portentous conversation at Eleme

    Barely two weeks ago, I was in Port Harcourt for the state banquet that the Rivers State Government held to mark the 80th birthday of Wole Soyinka. The last time that I visited Port Harcourt was about eight years ago and that was a private visit. Long before then, when I was the National President of the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU), I had visited the garden city many, many times. This was because like the University of Benin, the University of Port Harcourt had one of the strongest branches of ASUU. Although this was more than 30 years ago, those visits to Port Harcourt remained very fresh in my mind for the simple reason that we all in ASUU were then on a great mission to rescue tertiary education in our country from the consequences of vastly inadequate funding and coercive control by our military rulers and their civil service henchmen. This is why, from that period on, Port Harcourt has always conjured up in my mind struggles and efforts to make education in our country at par with the best and the most modern national educational systems in the world. This observation leads me directly to the subject of this piece, the widely discussed model secondary schools of Governor Rotimi Chibuike Amaechi.

    Although I knew that I was going to be in Port Harcourt for only two days during this recent visit for the state banquet for Soyinka, before the visit I had specially requested that on one of my two days in the garden city I be taken to see some of these much talked about model secondary and primary schools of Rivers State. Our hosts graciously consented to my request and so on Wednesday, July 30, I was taken to three sites: the Model Secondary School outside Port Harcourt at Eleme on the Port Harcourt-Aba road; a model primary school and a primary health care centre both in the garden city itself. As a matter of fact, the plan had been for me to see about seven different sites but I was so engrossed both by what I saw at Eleme and my conversation with the Principal of the school that we ended up spending such a long time there that I could only be taken to three out of the many sites that I was meant to have been shown on that day.

    Buildings and physical infrastructures do not necessarily make a school a showpiece of great educational achievement or possibility, but they do constitute a minimal condition for teaching of  high quality. The Seventh-Day Adventist Primary School at Oke-Bola, Ibadan that I attended more than half a century ago is not far from my house. Anytime that I walk past the school I experience a great sadness. This is because things have fallen apart for the school in terms of buildings, infrastructures and the physical environment. The buildings are not only the same plastered mud structures in which I was schooled as a child, they are now in worse conditions. Moreover, all the surrounding space has been taken up by residential buildings and commercial enterprises such that the school playing ground and “farm” are gone. I state this not just as a matter of personal regret and angst but also as a mark of the great retrogression that has overtaken many of the primary and secondary schools of the city of Ibadan, the most dramatic of all being what now remains of the prestigious Government College, Ibadan, of old. And of course, this pattern is broadly true for many other parts of the country.

    The Eleme Model Secondary School amazed, even dazzled me by the quality of the buildings and infrastructures. [And by the way, so did the model primary school that I visited in Port Harcourt]. The schoolrooms, the libraries, the IT rooms, the science laboratories, the auditorium, the dormitories, the sick bays, and the recreational grounds are models of impressive architectural design and sturdy, durable physical execution. It is no exaggeration to say that in physical infrastructure most of the new private universities in Nigeria, together with many of the older public universities are considerably inferior to what I saw at Eleme.

    Given the fact that each of the 23 local government areas of Rivers State will ultimately have one of these model secondary schools, this is potentially one of the few great, positive legacies that oil wealth would, in the fullness of time, have left for future generations of Rivers State and Nigerian citizens. As I went through the Physics, Chemistry and Biology labs, I marveled at the fact that all the equipments and facilities were of the most up-to-date vintage such that if they are put to good and efficient use, it would not be mere fancifulness to dream of our first Nobel Prize laureates in Physics or Chemistry coming from these Eleme science labs!

    I come now to the most crucial and critical part of the wonders that I saw at Eleme. This pertains to the physical or indeed, technological infrastructure of instruction and learning at the school. This is based almost entirely on what is known as the apparatus of the “smart class” and its very innovative approach to pedagogy. It has to be seen and carefully assessed to grasp its truly revolutionary and also controversial impact; one can only rather inadequately convey in words how it actually works. Perhaps the best approach to describe the “smart class” as a tool of instruction is to invoke the analogy of a booklet or manual that comes with a product, giving detailed, step-by-step instructions on how even a technologically challenged person can assemble and use the product. Thus, in the case of the “smart class”, every subject in the curriculum, indeed every branch of a subject, is packaged into modules that unfold as a teacher clicks on an icon on the computer screen. In other words, everything has been pre-packaged into the modules; all the teacher has to do is click on the icons on the computer screen as he or she takes the students through all the modules that make up a subject or a particular branch of a given subject. For instance, to teach students at a biology class the processes of photosynthesis, the teacher clicks on the icons of all the modules that make up full instruction on photosynthesis. Theoretically, this is learning made not only easy and up-to-date in terms of the latest knowledge in a subject, it is also learning made great fun and very interactive between teacher, students and the computer screen.

    Unfortunately, the students were on holidays when I visited the Eleme Model Secondary School and for this reason, I could not see the apparatus of the “smart class” in operation with students in their learning environment. More generally, it would have been more rewarding to have had direct interactions with the pupils of this extraordinary school whose essence, as its name implies, is to act as a model for what secondary schools of the future in our country will or should be. This was why, in place of such a direct encounter with the students of the school, I had a long conversation, a long question-and-answer session with the school’s Principal. It is to this session that I now turn in my closing observations and reflections in this piece.

    I did not need to ask, but it was clear to me that the reason why the Principal and nearly all the teachers of the Eleme Model Secondary School are from India is because of the centrality of the “smart class” to the pedagogical processes of teaching and learning at the school. The presumption, perhaps the reality here is that Nigerian universities and colleges of education are not (yet) producing teachers knowledgeable or versatile in the technology of the “smart class”. This may be true, but it does raise the fundamental question of shared cultural background between teacher and student, instructor and pupil in the uses of the “smart class”. Let me explain.

    Teachers can never be mere instruments for operationalising the apparatus of the “smart class”. They share certain assumption, values, biases and even phobias with their pupils. This is not a mere nationalistic or jingoistic plea for replacing the Indian teachers at the Eleme Model School with Nigerians. Rather, it is a strong view that since the national systems of education of the world do not operate within a cultural vacuum, it is important to complement the introduction of the “smart class” technology into Nigerian secondary school education with teachers who have a shared cultural context with Nigerian students.

    Tactfully, I did not raise this issue directly with the Principal of the Eleme Model Secondary School. Instead, what I did was to have a long conversation with him in which I tried to get his sense of the social background of his pupils. I am glad to report that he seemed to have taken a deep and sympathetic interest in the background of most of his wards. For instance, when he informed me that the ratio of students from very poor families to kids from relatively well-off families was about 70 to 30, I was both elated and dismayed. I was elated because this fact shows that the overwhelming majority of kids receiving quality, ultramodern schooling in Governor Amaechi’s model secondary schools are children who could never, remotely, have had the chance to receive any education at all, let alone high quality education. But I was also dismayed by the Principal’s information to me that because of their severely deprived economic and social backgrounds, many of his pupils seem unable to take full advantage of the benefits of the school because of their parents’ lack of interest in whether or not their children were doing well at school.

    Will these model secondary and primary schools take root and grow to become standard bearers of the future of education in our country? Or will the next administration after the expiration of Amaechi’s tenure let them go to waste? Finally: the culture of maintenance in our country is one of the worst in the world, the forces of atavistic regression always hovering in the background of every progressive development in our country and our continent, thanks to the backwardness of our ruling pseudo-bourgeoisie. Thus, I wonder: if I come back to Eleme in another ten years, will the bush have taken over this splendid showcase of a profound belief in education and the right of everyone, especially the most needy, to quality education? I most certainly hope not!

     

    Biodun Jeyifo

    bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

  • Obama in retreat, legacy threatened

    Obama in retreat, legacy threatened

    When he assumed office in 2009, Barack Obama carried along with him into the American presidency a reputation for oratory anchored on substance and logic, and a freshness to explore alternative ways of doing things. He proved that his well-received keynote address at the 2004 Democratic National Convention was not a fluke. Soon, too, he was marshalling efforts and innovations to tackle the recession that began before his assumption of office and which was sapping the sinews of American resolve and gnawing at the hearts of many American families. To crown his eventful first term in office, he ordered the operation that led to the killing of America’s number one enemy, Osama bin Laden, leader of the Al-Qaeda terrorist network.

    But nearly midway into his second term, when his reputation as a great leader should be made, when his legacies should be in construction, he has begun to appear a distracted man and a weakened president. He now seems vulnerably like a man in retreat, a retreat that seems also to be pulling his country along the same ignoble path. He boxed himself into a corner over Syria when he threatened to punish Syria if its president authorised the use of chemical weapons. But he balked when that happened, and gave the impression he was unsure who used the weapon, whether rebels or the government. But in reality, he was perhaps wary of taking steps that would lead to regime change, given the rise of extremist forces in that country and in the region. But the failure to punish the Syrian government led to a loss in esteem, first in the eyes of some of America’s allies in the region, such as Saudi Arabia and Turkey, and secondly even in the eyes of America’s age-old rivals, such as Russia.

    Worse, Obama’s hesitations probably transmitted a message of disguised impotence to other countries which began to assert themselves in various foreign policy adventures. And so whether in the Maghreb or in the Crimea, or in the highly troubled Middle East, the image of Obama projected today is one of a dithering president, or at best a distracted one who would order a Libyan intervention and tune off at the end of the campaign, or threaten a major backlash in Syria and then back down almost humiliatingly. No incident best exemplifies this dilemma as US policy towards Iraq.

    Not only did America base its intervention in Iraq on lies, without a thought for the implication of an acute disruption of the country’s power balance, the US followed up by abruptly abandoning the increasingly unmanageable country after many years of failing to pacify it. Leadership incompetence within Iraq itself pushed the country into a tailspin as jihadist elements began a fierce bid for power and territory. But rather than step in immediately to remedy the situation, the US has left intervention till very late. Now, no one can predict to what extent the damage can be reversed.

    If he must save his legacy and redeem his image, Mr Obama must begin to trust the instincts that helped him surmount the economic recession, push the now endangered Obamacare law through Congress, and get Osama bin Laden killed. He often claimed political and metaphysical progeny from Abraham Lincoln. But Lincoln, the intuitive iconoclast, trusted his instincts as much as he basked in self-reliant and luxuriant solitude. Lincoln was seldom wrong, but much more, he was often brilliantly prescient. Mr Obama has the intellectual wherewithal and its accompaniments; but he now needs an enormous amount of self-belief to renew his presidency, forge confidently forward, inspire himself by immersing in great biographies, and, as it were, rewrite world history in the few months left before his presidency becomes lame duck.

  • A Day at the Jalumin Front

    A Day at the Jalumin Front

    Blessed is the land where every old battle is not fought anew. Even warriors get weary. Nevertheless, you must set forth much earlier than dawn. Like an army of the night, you must move in the dead of the night. This meant that by 3 am in the morning, yours sincerely was already rumbling around the living room. It was a most punishing schedule, having gone to bed only two hours earlier in a life of endless intellectual disputations. Old Socrates who fell by the hemlock must be smirking somewhere.

    But this is not a scholar’s fare. Isaac Deutscher has famously warned the unarmed intellectual prophet to beware. Except as a mere suicidal flourish, you cannot fling out a pen against a hooded hoodlum armed with the inevitable A.K Kalashnikov, unless the pen also doubles as a potent grenade that is. Jalumin was where and when the Ibadan Army literally and figuratively turned the tide against the relentlessly advancing Fulani Jihadist cavalry. It translates roughly into a watery peril or drowning perish.

    Almost a century and half later, it was as if the Jalumin War was being re-enacted in the same Yoruba territory and preternaturally around the same spot. Oh Osogbo, the land of pristine dye! History repeats itself indeed. By a strange coincidence, one of the major protagonists, Rauf Adebisi Aregbesola, always reminds one of an ancient Yoruba generalissimo.

    With his gutsy fearlessness, his strategic brilliance, his extreme personal discipline and self-punishing willpower, Aregbesola could easily have passed for a major warrior in the Yoruba seventy five years of solitude and wars. But there is also an incredible playfulness and boyish humour about him which recall the zestful, witty and irreverent Basorun Ogunmola.

    Perhaps owing to its military provenance and its domestication and habituation of the military wing of the ruling class in professional politics, the Fourth Republic is a classic enactment of politics as the continuation of war by other means. The military tactics and strategies of ambush, deception, camouflage, surprise, stealth, siege and other complicated offensives have become standard fare. Politics is war. It is not a proposition for the fainthearted. It has been boon to soldiers in politics and other minatory musclemen.

    As you set out very early on the Lagos Ibadan Express road, you remember that almost everybody you spoke to had warned you to avoid Osun State, particularly on the D-Day.  The D-Day was the day of the advertised mega-rally of the APC. Federal troops had arrived ahead of the looming confrontation. They were not lurking with intent. It was an open display of federal might. The atmosphere was pregnant with mayhem and foreboding.

    Even some of your own relations had pleaded that you should avoid the Jalumin perimeter in particular and the whole environment in general. The entire place was crawling with armed men in mufti who had been ordered to deal with any interloper. A few days earlier, one received a frantic phone call from a notable professor at Ife who noted that he had just counted a fifty nine vehicle convoy snaking into town with masked men shooting wildly.

    It doesn’t get more threatening. The siege on Osun from a distance was even more comprehensive and threatening than the one that ensnared and felled Ekiti. But it is always better to stand up for something even if you are wrong than to fall for anything. In the current delirium of treachery, the whirlpool of opportunism and self-abasement, it is more honourable to stick to some ideals as a strategic imperative even when you find yourself with some strange bedfellows.

    Ideals last, but strange companies do not. Water must eventually find its level. This is the only way to institutionalise choice based on conviction and politics based on principles and ideological clarity. The transition from an authoritarian society to a truly modern polity is not a tea party. Long after the wayfarers have fallen by the wayside, long after the acrobats have completed their final somersault, the men and women of true conviction will still be standing.

    Yet after all has been said, the question still needs to be asked as to why the Nigerian post-colonial state is so prone and vulnerable to closure. Every ascendant group with its handful of collaborators recruited from all over the country simply barricade themselves in while the feeding frenzy is going on. Meanwhile, those who have been excluded pull and tug at the foundation until the temple comes crashing with a resounding bang.

    The origin of the nation itself in colonial predation and rapine is a major drawback. Despite the veneer of a civilising mission, the colonialists did not pretend that they had risked blood and limb in Africa for the pleasure and pastime of the conquered natives. As part of the decolonising project the colonial state ought to have witnessed a fundamental rebirth and humanisation to make it amenable to the hopes and aspirations of the captive populace. But what it witnessed was a mere indigenisation.

    The second drawback is the uneven level of consciousness and political development among the various constituting units which has made it impossible for a genuine national dialogue about the way forward several decades after the departure of the colonial masters. Ancient prejudices and ancestral horrors of past persecution hold sway making it impossible for core values that drive a modern nation to crystallise.

    In the event, every ascendant group tries to fill the void by imposing the inner core values of their ethnic formation even where these values are incompatible with the basic notions of modern nationhood. Like a restive horse, those at the receiving end of malignant federal power chafe and kick up a lot of dust.

    Despite this background of tumult and turbulence, all was quiet on the Lagos to Ibadan Express this early Tuesday morning. It had been drizzling all through, making everywhere wet and soggy. But there was an eerie calm and quiet everywhere. The traffic snafu occasioned by the ongoing rehabilitation of this principal arterial passage of the nation has been reduced to two major spots. It was early August. The corn was out, and so were the corn people.

    Very soon, you were passing through the ancient warrior city of Ibadan, The peculiar mess had largely disappeared. This metropolitan coliseum of urban affrays and equal opportunity mayhem was witnessing a massive transformation. The current dominant party in the west is not a congregation of saints. But judging by their urban renewal programmes and massive rural transformation, the west will not be in a hurry to forget them.

    Just as you descend the leafy escarpment of suburban Ibadan around the old Egbeda town into the precincts of Osun state, you began to pick the scent of battle. The bridge over the famed Osun river was in view just before the river began snaking its way through the massive Area Five forest reservation around Oke Alaguntan, through Mokore in Ijebu Igbo territory and onward to the Lagos lagoon.

    During the Yoruba mfecane, this was the backyard and backdoor route the Owu people took to their present domain after a protracted siege led to their eventual dislodgment from their homestead. In the fifties, elephants from the reservations were occasionally sighted drinking and clowning by the bank of the river. It was the same vegetation belt that straddles the other side of the river and what is known as Igbo Elerin. (The forest of elephants) If you are an ancient big game hunter, the colonial demarcation of territory only existed in the colonial imagination.

    By now, you have crossed the Osun bridge into Osun State proper, and political strife was no longer in the imagination but a concrete and throbbing reality. A huge poster of a smiling Aregbesola welcomed you to this volatile political nerve centre of the Yoruba people. Aregbesola’s billboard was closely followed by another huge banner, this time of his main rival, Iyiola Omisore, bearing the apocalyptic appellation of Atari Ajanaku or the skull of the elephant.

    It had begun to drizzle rather heavily and the elephants are in a mortal clinch. You must pity the grass and the grass root. Police presence became obtrusive and rather invasive.  Heavily armed and stern-looking, the state enforcers motioned to you to advance to be recognised and then glumly waved you on. It was all very professional, but you would rather they had been looking for Malam Shekau..

    By the time you got to the Gbongan junction, the rains had gone completely berserk, drooling endlessly as it drilled the ground without mercy. Muddy floods took over the Bye pass under construction as vehicular movements splurged to a halt in the sea of dirt and murk. Will this historic deluge do it for you and the mega rally?  Not on its life, you swore in fury and frustration.

    Almost one hour and barely one kilometre after, one began to think the unthinkable. There was a huge back pile of stalled vehicles and tempers began to flare.At some point  near the old Ejemu village, the makeshift bridge appeared to have disappeared in a muddy pool. Since this was also Snooper’s territory, one began to wonder whether the rogue PDP had enlisted the services of crack rainmakers nearby, after all, all is fair in political warfare.

    Since turning back was virtually impossible, one was minded at this point to make a detour at Sekona and on to General Akinrinade’s Yakoyo fortress for an early meal of pounded yam and quails. Or one could veer off into Tonkere and then exit into the Ife suburb through the old OAU Agric farm. In an earlier incarnation, this was the preferred NADECO Highway of Unife Student union stalwarts retreating from fierce teargas.

    But perish the devilish thought. The sky lifted miraculously, and so did the muddy pool. Nothing was now standing between one and Osogbo, except heavy security presence. There is light indeed at the end of the tunnel. Osogbo was in a carnival-like mood. It was as if the entire town had risen in honour of the presiding governor.  Young men, old men; women and old wenches, they were all fiercely brandishing brooms. And they were singing and dancing in defiant scorn of the establishment. Let no one make any mistake about this. These people will protect their vote.

    It was impossible to reach the stadium. After almost two hours of trying, one gave up, jumped out of the car and started trekking towards the stadium. Even by the standards of mega rallies, the crowd was unprecedented, spilling in every direction. After being repeatedly roughed up and serially elbowed in the hurly burly, one began inching his way back to the main road.

    And lo, it was Aregbesola approaching. Heavily goggled,  he was perched atop a huge Gaiser- like vehicle as if he was descending from the clouds. This was magical reality at its political summit. The crowd swooned in affection and admiration. With his fancy footwork and dancing aplomb, Aregbesola is a master of the crowd;  an iron chancellor of the proletariat and urban hoi polloi. Whether he wins freely or is made to go under fraudulently, this is a particularly dangerous moment for the Yoruba plutocracy and its reactionary grandees who are stuck in a time-warp.

    As the convoy moved nearer, Aregbesola spotted yours sincerely where he was marooned among the roadside crowd like a footloose flaneur and beamed an ecstatic sign of victory. Sensing the presence of a ranking nobility of civilian unrest, the urban stalwarts immediately began clearing the path back to the stadium for a bemused Snooper. They were joined by some native drummers all the way from Gbongan.

    In the event, the actual rally was something of an anticlimax, despite the brilliant and stirring rhetoric and a splendid speech delivered in flawless vernacular by Olagunsoye Oyinlola. It will be strange if three former governors of this state and the incumbent turn out to be wrong. The good people of Osun state have already spoken with their feet. By yesterday, they would have done the same with their vote. It is a loud and insistent clamour for good and accountable governance over the chicaneries of belly politics. Let no one tamper with their vote. Let no one toy with the tail of a cobra. It has been quite a day at the Jalumin Front.

  • Some critical post-election questions

    Some critical post-election questions

    Is there a possibility (that) the president sees the militarisation of elections as a worthy contribution to democracy?

    My the time you read this article, incumbent governor of the State of Osun, Ogbeni Rauf Aregbesola, must have seen off the challenge of Senator Iyiola Omisore, the PDP candidate in the just concluded governorship election, on whose behalf the state was unnecessarily put under a stifling security lock- down for the better part of the election week capped by a 24-hour curfew as the icing on the cake. That, of course, would be if the Election Fixing Contractors (EFC) and their rogue INEC collaborators did not have their evil way as they did in Ekiti in what is sure to turn a pyrrhic victory sooner than later. Now that the two governorship elections in the Southwest have come and gone, some questions have become of critical importance if Nigeria must remain a member of the civilised comity of nations.

    The most important of these is why, after he had been in office as president for six years, President Jonathan, and those around him, still think they must fight to the death to get him re-elected. That precisely is what Nigerians have seen in the two elections both of which turned out, uncannily, as predicted by Vice-President Namadi Sambo who said long ago that the two elections would be war.  Some of us had thought then that he was mistaking the Southwest for the Northeast where Nigeria is confronted with its stiffest war situation in over four decades.  What we have seen in Yoruba land these past two months had been nothing short of war. Not only were soldiers and police men deployed in their thousands, it has been observed, because Nigerian soldiers do not go around in hoods, that fake soldiers have equally been sent after Yorubas in whose geo-political zone the two elections took place, wearing some macabre hoods. We equally thought that the PDP lodestar, Buruji Kashamu, was merely grandstanding when , a little before the vice-president’s gaffe, but ominously in a thoroughly coordinated plot, he declared that PDP was out looking for ‘soldiers’ as its governorship candidates in the two states.

    They both must have been acting on orders from above.

    That then leads us to the next question. When on the orders of the president, elections in a democracy are turned to mini wars, shouldn’t  Nigerians safely  assume that he and his party, the PDP, actually intend to rule over a captured  people? Of course, the word capture, which used to be the monopoly of Chief Bode George, a one-time PDP poster boy in the Southwest, has since become democratised and popularised within the top echelons of the party, the latest aficionado being Chief Ishola Filani, the Acting Southwest Deputy Chairman of the party whose own ambition, as he has said severally, is to capture the Southwest for President Jonathan ahead of the 2015 presidential election.

    Is there a possibility (that) the president sees the militarisation of elections as a worthy contribution to democracy? I ask this question because without as much as initiating a single electoral reform in his six years in office, the president was recently quoted as follows while breaking fast with the diplomatic corps and some senators during the last Ramadan: “I know that one thing that is dear to your hearts is what the elections in this country will look like next year. But let me use this unique opportunity to reassure you and I’m conveying this to my brothers, your heads of government, that our elections next year will be free and fair. It will be very peaceful in nature that will even surprise the whole world.”

    Now, the above is a very weighty undertaking  and the fact that he wanted this conveyed to his brother Heads of State makes it doubly so. Given that Nigerians cannot remember anything that the president is doing fundamentally to improve our shambolic elections, unless militarisation could be so regarded, could it be there are things the president knows which Nigerians, even the legislature, haven’t the slightest idea of? It is necessary to read the president between the lines, especially where he says the election “will be very peaceful IN NATURE (caps mine), and will even SURPRISE the whole world.”  In nature, and surprise the world? Dr Reuben Abati must help us out here, and why do I say this? I am one of those who can attest to the fact that the 21 June, 2014 Ekiti governorship election was peaceful IN NATURE; the lines were peaceful, there was no ballot box snatching etc, but many will wager that it was all because the election was scientifically rigged which rendered all the usual PDP rigging tricks unnecessary. Since this columnist, and not a few Nigerians, believe that something far removed from PDP’s  romanticised ‘stomach infrastructure’ accounted for the so-called  defeat of an absolutely performing  Ekiti State  governor, it will be appreciated if the president will get one of his media aides to tell Nigerians on what basis he made that promise to the world. Not to do so is to allow present rumours take a life of their own.

    Finally, it is appropriate to ask whether the president does not think that an election as important as the presidential should be fought strictly on the basis of performance, especially by an incumbent who has, fortuitously, already spent more years than a single term in the post? Nigerians have followed the Babel  of advertisements  by several pro-Jonathan groups which decided to jump the gun even ahead of Mr President  and have observed that not a few of the claims they make for Mr President actually stand the Nigerian reality on the head. There is, for instance, the thoroughly asinine one that says the president has fought terrorism to a standstill. The Boko Haram felons must be laughing! And this is where whoever knows the president will realise that these attention seeking groups are misrepresenting President Jonathan and doing him a great disservice.

    Before the ensemble of Southwest PDP chieftains came to suffocate the president and led him on to several unfortunate routes, Nigerians knew him as neither a General nor a Pharaoh. I wouldn’t know what they think today, but President Jonathan can still prise himself free of these  do-gooders and allow genuine supporters, as distinct from these self-serving Yoruba PDP fellows who were recently appropriately described by former governor Olagunsoye Oyinlola, to run an intellectually grounded campaign on his behalf.

    Without a doubt, most of the problems the president has to deal with today were inherited and many, like terrorism, do not go away easily. But there were things he could have done proactively which he, unfortunately, allowed to fester.  Ensuring, for instance, that those who killed Yusuf, the Boko Haram leader, and some of his supporters were quickly brought to book would have probably stopped this menacing terrorist sect in its tracks. The president also miscalculated in shielding members of his cabinet accused of corruption instead of promptly excusing them from their duty posts to signpost his determination to effectively fight that canker worm. Only this past week, the United States finally put a closure to the Abacha kleptomania ensuring the family lost millions of dollars whereas back home in Nigeria, the president not only ordered that the case against Abacha’s son be discontinued, the fellow is being aggressively romanced by the presidency with an eye to the 2015 elections and may, indeed, emerge the party’s governorship candidate in Kano State.  Rather than allow these  power mongers to hold him captive, especially now that February  2015 is fast approaching, the president would be better served if he, from now on, pursues genuine  electoral  reforms  in which only the police would have any role whatever, squarely, aggressively and, conscientiously confronts corruption and like Obasanjo,  makes public example of  those who currently think they are untouchable and if he goes ahead to negotiate the release of our Chibok girls since a direct military confrontation  is unthinkable  as it would put their lives in jeopardy.

    That way, President Jonathan would be honestly getting ready for an election whose transparency and peaceful nature will truly surprise the world.

  • Leyin Ibo: the day after election in Yorubaland

    Leyin Ibo: the day after election in Yorubaland

    Yoruba people react to the organisation of elections in three basic ways: spontaneous celebration, immediate contestation and delayed reaction

    Our new season of elections calls for an examination of the Yoruba worldview vis-à-vis election and the various attitudes shown by Yoruba citizens after elections. Local and international election observers with interest in consolidation of democracy in Nigeria will benefit from exposure to what election means to the average Yoruba man or woman. Such understanding will be useful not only for the purpose of evaluating specific elections but for the purpose of gauging or predicting what can happen in Yorubaland (and by extension in other parts of Nigeria) as the region struggles, along with others in the country, to build the culture of democracy, particularly electoral democracy.

    The verb Dibo (to vote) and the noun Ibo or Idibo(voting or election) are borrowed from Yoruba metaphysics, particularly Ifa, where dibo means choosing between alternatives or selecting among options. The Ifa priest is the organiser of Ibo. He or she is expected to be transparent in conducting idibo. The priest is not allowed to rig the process. When the divining chain is thrown to indicate which option concerns the divinee, whatever side that shows must be announced to the divinee, regardless of whether it is a good sign or a bad omen. When the divinee looks worried or shows any doubt after a choice has been indicated, the diviner throws his or her chain again and again to confirm the position of things. Once the same side of the divining chain comes up, the diviner makes his pronouncement, having satisfied himself or herself that the right thing has been done.

    It was the Ifa model of voting that influenced the choice of words to match voting when the colonial master introduced election. Yoruba people over decades of voting have always viewed their votes as important and the process of voting significant to the choice they make during elections. Reinforced by the Yoruba notion of simultaneous existence of good and evil and the right of the individual to prefer good over evil, every Yoruba recognises the consequence of whatever choice he/she makes. The Yoruba carries the spiritual value attached to Ibo in Yoruba metaphysics to voting in the secular realm, as he or she sees choosing between ideological orientations of political parties as seminal to the organisation of modern secular societies.

    Should foreigners in particular find the attitude of the Yoruba to election unique, the reason is located in the worldview of the Yoruba that includes the imperative of the individual to always have the freedom to choose his/her path in life. The response of the average Yoruba voter to election is determined by his view about the credibility of the electoral process. Yoruba people react to the organisation of elections in three basic ways: spontaneous celebration after the result of voting is seen to reflect the choice voters believe they have made; immediate contestation or protest against an election they presume to have been rigged; and delayed reaction to an election they also perceive to have been rigged. All of these three patterns of response on the day after an election have been witnessed in the region since the emergence of voting for political parties in the country.

    On the day after an election that a majority of Yoruba voters believe to reflect their choice, there is generally a spontaneous outburst of joy and conspicuous display of approbation. Voters do not wait for election candidates to organise victory parties for them; they organise and pay for their own soiree. On such a day, voters buy drinks for each other and even owners of  bars give out palm-wine or beer to customers free, to show that they are happy about the congruence between the votes they cast and the result released by the umpire. It is only when elections are rigged that the candidates pay for celebration, to give the appearance of voters’ acceptance of manipulated results. This happened in the six Yoruba states in 1999, in Lagos State in 2003, 2007, and 2011, for example.

    When an election is perceived by the majority of voters to have been manipulated through announcement of false figures for candidates favoured by the umpire or his or her sponsor, the average voter who believes he or she has been cheated may get on the streets to demonstrate against the umpire and his principal. This had happened several times in the region’s history. For example, in 1965, Yoruba voters started serious anti-rigging protests after the election to the Western House of Assembly. The same thing happened when Chief AdekunleAjasin’s election in Ondo State was rigged in favour of Chief Akin Omoboriowo in 1983.

    Occasionally, the Yoruba choose the model of delayed reaction on the day after an election. A majority of the voters remain in their houses without showing any emotions. They do not even countenance individuals whose political parties celebrate a victory majority of voters believe to be false. Such voters wait for the most opportune time to react to a rigged election. This happened after the 1964 federal elections when the Nigerian National Democratic Party claimed to have won 870,833 votes while 494,730 votes were recorded for the Action Group. The outburst in the so-called “Wild Wild West” in 1965 in response to the rigging of the election of that year included the airing of pent-up anger against the 1964 election. The absence of an electrifying and self-financed celebration by voters at the end of the recent election in Ekiti State is another form of delayed or repressed response. Time will tell what percentage of Ekiti voters were happy with the results of the last gubernatorial election in that state.

    The Yoruba value of plurality of perspective allows the average voter in the region to respect the principle of multiparty democracy. This principle also allows individuals to choose which of the parties is closest to his/her expectations in and from life. This explains why there are Yoruba people in all political parties. In the Yoruba region, twins belong to different or opposing political parties, the same way they may choose to belong to different religions. Siblings are happy with each other regardless of the parties or religions they espouse. But when an election leads to “giving the son of Oba to Osun” (transferring the victory of candidate A to candidate B) friendship ends and tension emerges even among family members.

    What the average Yoruba voter abhors is rigging citizens’ right to choose the party of their preference to govern them. Whenever Yoruba voters feel cheated by the umpire or the organiser of an election, the chance of a threat to peace and progress in the region increases. Local and foreign election observers who are interested in survival of democracy in Nigeria need to get introduced to the anthropology or sociology of voting in different parts of Nigeria, more so now that the African continent is getting ready to qualify for increased trade and investment with the United States of America. Election observers, like African political leaders, need to take to heart Barack Obama’s statement: “Our message to those who would derail the democratic process is clear and unequivocal: the U.S. will not stand by when actors threaten legitimately elected government or manipulate the fairness and integrity of democratic process….”

  • How they bleed Nigeria

    How they bleed Nigeria

    248 power containers abandoned for 11 years!

    Perhaps nothing better exemplifies the shambolic manner this country is run than the reported abandonment of 248 containers of power equipment at the various bonded terminals in Lagos for as long as between seven to 11 years. The equipment were ordered by the defunct Power Holding Company of Nigeria (PHCN) for various power projects in the country. An obviously elated power minister Chinedu Nebo who eventually took delivery of the items on July 24 said: “It is a day of joy and gladness as we flag off this very critical event of release of 248 containers of electrical equipment and power installations. The equipment had been abandoned at various bonded terminals in Lagos since 2003 and 2007, which is between 11 and seven years ago”. Mind you, if they dare tell us how much is involved, many of us (like that former boss of the Federal Electoral Commission (FEDECO), Ovie Whiskey of blessed memory once said) would simply faint. So, they are keeping the figure to their chests.

    We should weep for this country when we realise that this is not the first time such cargoes would be abandoned.  On November 1, 2011, the Nigeria Customs Service (NCS) said about 500 containers belonging to various federal and state government agencies had been abandoned at the ports. Customs spokesman, Mr. Wale Adeniyi, told the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) then that about 250 of the containers were laden with PHCN power generation equipment. One hundred and forty of the power equipment containers were abandoned at the Ports and Cargo Terminal in Tin Can Island port, while the remaining 110 containers were moved to Ikorodu Terminal as overtime cargoes.

    The Federal Ministry of Agriculture and Water Resources similarly abandoned 59 containers while the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) had 25 containers of imports. Delta Steel Company abandoned six containers, Federal Ministry of Power and Steel (15 containers); Federal Ministry of Works (10 containers). Other abandoned containers belonged to the governments of Lagos, Rivers, Ondo and Delta states. Adeniyi added that some of the containers arrived the country as far back as 2006. It is not clear whether the power equipment containers that Adeniyi mentioned were the ones that Nebo took delivery of last month.

    It is the height of man’s inhumanity to man to have abandoned  such vital power equipment for years. It is even worse that no one has been asking questions ever since, about the abandoned equipment. And that is in a country where everyone is groaning under the darkness that has refused to yield way to light despite the billions already sunk into the power sector. So, what are the auditors doing? Where is the Presidential Monitoring Team in all of these? It means the National Executive Council just approves money for projects; no one bothers about whether such are delivered or not. Indeed, I was told that it is only foolish contractors that bother to deliver here; the wise ones know how to circumvent the system (if any) by seeing those necessary, with whom they share the contract money.

    So far, President Goodluck Jonathan has not made any comment on the unfortunate incident. It is even doubtful if he is in any way bothered about it. What matters to him now is ‘capturing’ more states (in spite of his poor performance), to buoy his chances in the 2015 election. And to achieve that near impossible task, he has unleashed soldiers on states where elections are due this year, in the build-up to governorship elections. In the past, we have always seen police do such dirty jobs. In Jonathan’s time, soldiers have taken over. One therefore wonders what the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) has been doing to improve the efficiency of the police force since 1999 that it has been in power at the centre.

    Given the level of corruption, sorry stealing in the country (our president has said there is no corruption in Nigeria, so, I am sorry for that slip of the pen!), we can almost be sure that what was taken delivery of may not be all that was imported. Perhaps what Minister Nebo took delivery of was what was left after the people who needed some of the items had stolen theirs. They know it is Nigeria’s money, our money; and our money, really, is no one’s money. As Chinua Achebe noted in one of his books, this thing is mine is different from this thing is ours. I know this because if you import ordinary cars, port rats (you see, we have all manner of ways to shield thieves; the president said what we have is mere stealing, not corruption; now those in the ports call the thieves there port rats instead of thieves) would have tampered with them before they are cleared at the ports, in spite of the presence of all kinds of security men there. This is aside the fact that those who imported the power equipment had probably creamed off their own share of the contract cost. We may also need to be sure if the items are not even used ones that were bought as new from where they were imported. I hear a lot of such purchases happened in the days of the National Electric Power Authority (NEPA) and PHCN.

    Moreover, how are we even sure that orders had not been placed again (and again) for the same items? If we did not know that such large consignments were wasting away at the ports for over a decade, the possibility of this duplication of purchases is very high. Then we can be sure that some of the equipment would have gone bad or even become obsolete; in which case they are useless. But for the fact that PHCN has now been privatised, it is even  possible that some of them would still rot way wherever they are taken to because they still would have been abandoned there, with no one remembering to look for them after the initial shock has died down. We are so used to such waste in government that we can hardly be shocked by such abandonment again.

    In countries where the government is serious, those responsible for the irresponsibility would by now have known that they are already in soup. They are economic saboteurs, pure and simple. But in Nigeria, they know the way out of their crimes: join the ruling party. Anyway, the government must be seen to be concerned and doing something on the matter. So, in line with the Jonathan administration’s characteristic threats, Nebo had threatened to probe the abandonment of the equipment and bring culprits (if any), to book. So, it is possible no one is responsible for the abandonment! Anyway, he may be right. We have heard such empty threats from the Jonathan presidency many times. For instance, since March when at least 18 Nigerians died on Nigeria Immigration Service job queues and the administration promised to probe the unfortunate incident, we are yet to hear from the government again. Those who die that way in Nigeria, especially under the PDP, have always died in vain as all those involved in such criminal neglect need do is identify with the ruling party and their sins, be it corruption or mere stealing, or manslaughter or even murder, are forgiven. As a matter of fact, ability to commit crimes seems an added advantage where the desperate ruling party is concerned. At least four of the people suspected to be connected with the murder of the late attorney-general of the federation and minister of justice, Chief Bola Ige, are now something, either in the Jonathan presidency or in the ruling party itself.

    Anyway, in all of these, it is Nigeria that has been shortchanged. Apart from being denied electricity that could have improved if the power equipment had been utilised for the purpose that they were imported, they (Nigerians) have also been denied the revenue that should have accrued to the Customs. The question now is whether the new owners of the electricity firms were aware of the existence of these abandoned items. If they were, then they should have taken them as part of their inventory, in which case they would have had to calculate the demurrage and pay for them. Just imagine the congestion that would have been caused by the abandonment of almost 250 containers for that long! Show me any other country where such would happen without heads already rolling or the people trooping to the streets to demand that heads must roll. Show me a country that is run in such rudderless manner!

  • ‘Ebola: God is our only hope in Liberia’

    For Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea, these are not the best of times, considering the impact of the Ebola disease on the countries which are the hardest hit.

    I got an idea of how an average citizen of one of the countries feels about the situation when my colleague, George Sarwah Stewart Jr Coordinator, Media Development Group, Path and Chair of the Liberia Christian Journalists Network, sent me a facebook message saying “we are living in fear and worry in Monrovia.

    “God is our only hope right now. Government can’t stand anyone,” he stated.

    To get the full picture of the situation back in Liberia and his views on the issue, I sent him some questions which he promptly responded to.

    Excerpts from the interview are as follows:

    How will you describe the situation in Liberia and other parts of the country since the outbreak of Ebola disease, especially the death of Mr Patrick Sawyer from Liberia in Nigeria?

    The situation of Ebola in Liberia and three other countries including Nigeria is troubling and threatening to the whole of West Africa.  Specifically for Liberia, the virus has killed farmers, rural community dwellers and health workers.  It has shot down villages and instilled fear in ordinary and impoverished Liberians.

    The virus has disintegrated the Mano River Union Basin and West Africa. There are restrictions and blockage on cross-board travels.  Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea share common borders such as river, parcels of land that allows cross-borderline farming. Along the Mano River, there are same tribal groups, intermarriages and similar cultural practices. These cross-border values and way-of-life are being hampered and cut off to some extent because of the Ebola outbreak.

    West African citizens enjoy free movement with minimum immigration control within the region. Unfortunately, the Ebola virus has extended its wicked hands against the smooth movement of West Africans within their own region.

    What has been the reaction of the people to the declaration of state of emergency in your country and how is it affecting life generally?

    There are mixed reactions.  Some think it’s appropriate, others think it’s belated, while another set wants to wait to see the impact of the State of Emergency on curbing Ebola.  Already, the State of Emergency has taken hold of the country for fact that movement of people from Western Liberia connecting Sierra Leone are prevented from coming to Monrovia by Liberian soldiers. The army has set roadblocks and checkpoints preventing free movement.   Business women are spending their second day at one of the checkpoints 3 miles from Monrovia.

    What are your personal concerns about this issue and what do you think should be done to prevent spread of the disease?

    I am concerned about the late response of our governments against Ebola when the virus could have been contained earlier.  When the virus showed signs in Guinea-Liberia border sometimes in February, it was the most appropriate time for containment, but little was done until the virus killed medical doctors and other health workers as well as poor community dwellers.

    I’m also concerned about the closure of health facilities in Liberia.  This is leading to the death of others outside of Ebola.  There are curable sicknesses taking the lives of Liberians simply because no health facilities.

    Are you hopeful that the problem will be solved soon?

    This is where my faith as a Christian comes in.  Our government is quite confused and has shown no real strength. Only God is able to cleanse our nation and the rest of West Africa of this disease.

    Full text of interview online www.staging.thenationonlineng.net

  • Ebola on my mind

    With Boko Haram rampaging in the north of the nation and the Ebola plague threatening to get a foothold in the south, the doomsday prediction about the Nubian’s last sigh is beginning to look like some divinely ordained soothsaying. No nation has been able to survive the impossible combination of natural and man-made calamities. If a nation must survive a plague, it must have good leaders and if a nation already suffers from a political plague it must not add a natural plague to its list of calamities.

    It was Manuel Castells, the great Spanish-American sociologist, who once dubbed AIDs, the Ebola virus, leprosy and other pestilential afflictions which have turned sub-Saharan Africa into a human hellhole as “epidemics of dereliction”. It is a haunting metaphor, and anybody who has seen how these scourges strip the human body of its last shred of honour and integrity must know what it means.

    But it does seem as if there are epidemics and there are epidemics. If natural epidemics waste the human body, what happens in a situation where the state is so stripped of its honour and integrity as to become an institutional derelict? An epidemic of state dereliction?  What then happen when in the same nation-space you have an epidemic of dereliction, that is natural calamity, combining with an epidemic of state dereliction, which is man-made catastrophe? Something new always comes out of Africa indeed.

  • All these Ebola Virus ‘remedies’ are making me dizzy

    Now, who watches the tertiary contacts that the secondary contacts come in contact with: families, friends, neighbours, fellow travelers and commuters, etc.?

    I believe by now that we have nearly exhausted all the names we want to call Patrick Sawyer, the unconscionable individual who struggled against many odds to ensure that he accomplished his life’s mission: introduce the Ebola virus into Nigeria. By the accounts, Patrick Sawyer’s sister had just died of the disease; he himself had succumbed to it; was already in quarantine for it; was advised against travelling out of the country; collapsed at his home airport from the ravages of the disease; yet, still insisted on flying to Nigeria with the disease. He came with such urgency you would think he had been paid to come and universalise the problem. Now, we have Ebola in the country.

    How we got into this sorry pass though cannot be totally blamed on that guy. True, he should have known better, but then we should have known even better than him. Come on now, we own the country; so we should have looked after it better. However, what with our massive corruption (worst in the world), our laziness (renowned throughout the world), and our lackadaisical attitude to work (definitely the most horrendous throughout the world), we stood no chance. Why, when you put the three departments together, we put even the badger that hibernates for half a year to shame.

    First, we hear for weeks that the entire west coast, with us sitting pert and pretty in the middle of it, is bursting at the seams with Ebola Virus and what do we do? We nap. We do not put all hospitals in the country on alert. We do not begin immediately to suspect that the thing might stray in our direction. We do not even cursorily look in our cupboards of drugs to make sure that we do not get caught out in the middle of the night. Criminal, I tell you. Now, its midnight in this huge country of over a hundred million people, and we have been caught snoring.

    Worse, we do not even man our airports well. Consider this. If Mr. Sawyer had persisted in coming into Nigeria, should he not have been stopped by the airport authorities in Liberia? A sick man ought not to leave his country, whether or not anyone knew what was wrong with him, without adequate medical cover and known details. But theirs is not the greater sin. The greater sin belongs to the Nigerian airport authorities who saw a desperately sick man and did not detain him right there even if ostensibly for medical attention. At a time, so the story goes, he was throwing up and even had to lie flat on the floor. I ask you, I ask you, should that not have told our personnel manning the entry points at the airport something and made them deny him entry?!!! Many Nigerians have been denied entry into other countries for much, much less than falling ill with an undisclosed ailment. I understand that just for having facial marks, a Nigerian had to sit for quite a while at an airport somewhere in the world until he could sufficiently explain he was not carrying a virus from a ‘fight’ with a tiger. Come on people, for how long will this country continue to look after us while we fail to do our jobs of looking after it by being responsible at our desks and for our desks? I tell you that the day is coming in this country when even the tardiest receptionist will have to explain why she stole two seconds to renew her lipstick. I certainly look forward to it.

    Now, look at our borders. Unmanned, that is the word. I understand that one state alone has more than sixty-eight legal entry and exit points towards the west coast, and all of them unmanned. Someone says there are thousands more that are illegally used. To that I say, hurray! In short, there are as many entries to the west coast as the feet can tread. Super! Yet, we have the resources and manpower to close them all up but then, there’s no political will. Where the political will exists, I am told, the Nigerian cunning, which makes us all subvert and pervert every universal good law and goodwill, comes in to play. In short, Nigerians will always find new ways of thwarting the law. Yep, but that is because her leaders do not like to live by example. Correction: the people are only following the leaders’ examples of lawlessness, law-breaking, bunkering, smuggling, piracy, open sea theft, open land theft, just name it.

    Truth is, I believe if Mr. Sawyer did not bring Ebola to Nigeria, sooner or later one or more of our itinerant traders who trek across the borders would certainly have. One, there is no one to stop them; two, there is no one to stop them; three, … So, between our airport laxities and our porous borders, we certainly have always been sitting ducks. Sadly, that is not all.

    Then there is the little matter of our national reactions when thunder strikes like this. Now, to what shall we liken it? It is more like someone who has been given shock treatment, you know, the kind they give to people who cannot remember what they had for dinner the day before. Anyway, before the outbreak, we could not get the health minister to say a wise word on the doctors’ strike, but since the outbreak, we have not been able to get him to keep quiet on Ebola. Every day, there he is in Abuja, giving us the update on the outbreak as relayed to him from Lagos, even if the news is usually sent over our heads to get to him. Comical, no?!

    Naturally, the situation has given rise to rumours and counter rumours on what to do in the event of one contracting it. First, we are told not to worry, should you by any quirky chance or fate contract Ebola Virus, just head straight for the nearest batch of what we know around here as bitter kola and begin to chew and chew and chew until you are told to stop, presumably by the person who started the rumour in the first place. Well, when I heard it, I thought, if it was so simple to cure, why was the west deceiving us and telling us that the thing had no cure yet? Why could they not simply contract it out to me to supply airplanes full of the stuff from my father’s farm free of charge?

    Next, I heard that text messages were being sent around asking people to take their baths in salt water, and even drink some of the water. Ha, I gaped!!! Do they want to kill people? That situation would be like one with a real dilemma: between the devil and the deep, blue sea. In that situation, it would be better to stay with the devil you know. I tell you, the sea can be mighty dangerous; salt water marshes are even more so. Actually, I thought, that rumour must have originated from the guy who probably paid the Sawyer guy to make sure that by all means, he touched Nigeria after contracting the disease.

    In our usual way of not being able to account for everybody in any given situation, many of those who came in contact with Mr. Sawyer, those called secondary contacts, are said to be ‘under observation’. Now, who watches the tertiary contacts that the secondary contacts come in contact with: families, friends, neighbours, fellow travelers and commuters, etc.? Then who watches the contacts that these ones will now come in contact with? Now, you get my worry. This country should act more proactively. It owes the people that.