Category: Tatalo Alamu

  • Le moinmoin, cest moi

    Whoever coined this name for the Yoruba delicacy made from beans must have a sense of the wild possibilities of language. The name connotes a mellow mellifluousness and a delicate deliciousness which haunt the taste buds for a long time. Even the indigenous name–?l?l?— connotes suppleness and subtlety which hint at Yoruba cuisine at its most gloriously addictive.

    The reason for this flight of linguistic fancy and culinary masturbation so to say is a passing reference to the great Yoruba delicacy in this past week’s offering of fellow columnist, Tony Marinho, in a moving tribute to his late stepmother, Madam Grace Ebun Marinho, who recently joined the Saints Triumphant. It is when you realize that others also share your secret passions that our common humanity is reinforced.

    As a whistle-blowing patrol guard of ancient Yoruba cuisine, snooper took in Marinho’s casual reference to “moin moin” with considerable skepticism at the initial stage. “What does this oyinbo-looking man know about moin moin?” yours sincerely rumbled to himself in ill-humour. But after the first paragraph, one became convinced that the good old doctor was an aficionado of the delicacy indeed.

    Two quick tests of connoisseurship did it. The doctor also has an abiding distaste for synthetic moin moin which comes wrapped in cellophane. This usually robs the end product of a certain aroma and exquisite taste supplied by the indigenous wrapping leaves usually freshly cut. Second was Marinho’s contention that  “good moinmoin always leaves the best tasting morsels hidden between the leaves”.  Marinho is spot on. This is what is known in native parlance as “l?b?”

    About thirty two years after describing this delicious phenomenon as “elusive sublimities cowering under the wrapping leaves” in a review of Soyinka’s Ake, snooper is hard put to beat himself. L?b? is the ultimate delight of the moin moin aficionado. It is not always enough to fill the month; always leaving tantalizing hints of insatiable demands.

    Right from youth, snooper has always had a huge passion for steaming moin moin.  Among friends and close acquaintances, this was always a source of heavy jokes and feisty pranks.  If one were to be stranded or sequestered on an uninhabited island, the last request will be for a generous supply of ??l? and ? ko.

    And whilst we are still on the subject of moin moin, it is meet to report on a curious incident that occurred on September 9th this outgoing year. Snooper’s longstanding crony, Barrister Akinlawon Ige, a scion of the illustrious Ige family of Esa Oke, suddenly materialized at the doorstep brimming with mischief and merry gamesmanship. He had left Ibadan at cock’s crow to head for Lagos just to wish his friend a happy birthday.

    Before anybody could say Jack Robinson, Akin had unleashed a basketful of steaming moinmoin and eko all the way from Ibadan. It was a wonderful birthday present. Without wasting any further time on formalities, snooper led the lawyer to a corner of the house where domestic hostilities duly commenced.  After about an hour the whole house was piled up with dead wrapping leaves with both aging delinquents unable to get up. Whereupon Akin crawled up and ordered his driver to take him back to Ibadan. Mission accomplished. Snooper sank back in sated torpor. God bless you all and happy new year in advance.

  • The corrosive art of political insult

    Just when snooper was beginning to lament the dearth or possible death of the great art of political insult, things have begun to shape up.  The presidential slugfest is beginning to live up to the billing. The happy days of great political insults may be here with us again. A rogue professor from the University of Lamurudu has famously described the presidential candidate of the APC in very uncomplimentary terms. Whereupon an irate Dr Usman  sniffily noted that he had googled up the said professor and nothing was coming up.

    Nothing ? Haba, doctor, not even a letter to the editor as my egbon, Omotoye Olorode, would quip in the course of a bust up in those days with another professorial wannabe?  Snooper wishes to inform  the doctor that the political economy of scholarship in Nigeria is no longer Google-compliant. A child who says his parents are remiss in poverty has a lifetime to prove his own worth.

    However it is in the corrosive exchange between Musliu Obanikoro and Commodore Bode George that political insult inches towards a literary summit. George took Obanikoro to the cleaners noting that “Lagos has moved on, far beyond the primitive wretchedness of little ill-bred hooligans”. In a swift sucker punch, Obanikoro noted that “the post-traumatic stress disorder that comes with a time in jail would take more than just an unholy alliance with a pharmacist to heal.” Phew!!!!

    All of which must remind one of an exchange in the ancient Roman Senate. After repeatedly badgering and tormenting a new senator for being a veterinary doctor, one of his accusers rounded on him.

    “Sir, we learnt that you cure animals?” the man crowed sniffily.

    “And sir, are you ill?” the vet growled. End of conversation.

  • Magical realism in Yoruba politics

    Magical realism in Yoruba politics

    A wind with magical portents is blowing across the Nigerian landscape. With the announcement of  Yemi Osinbajo, a notable professor of Constitutional Law,  as the running mate of General Mohammadu Buhari in the forthcoming presidential election, the battle to redeem or redefine Nigeria seems to be joined  at the electoral level in a way it has not been in a long time. There is a great rousing of the Nigerian multitude.

    For close comparison, we may have to go all the way back to the federal elections of 1964. In that electoral slugfest, what was known as APGA, an unstable and fraught coalition between the old Action Group and the NCNC, battled it out with NNA, an alliance of convenience between Chief S.L Akintola’s NNDP and the ruling NPC.

    The elections ended in a constitutional stalemate with the President, Dr Nnamdi Azikiwe, initially refusing to call on the federal coalition to form a new government. It was the opinion of the revered Zik that the elections had been so badly compromised through rigging and other forms of electoral malpractices that it didn’t make sense to declare anybody a winner. After some tense negotiations and parleying, Azikiwe relented and Balewa was persuaded to form a broad-based government of national unity. But the background crisis lingered on and eventually led to a truncation of democracy with grave consequences for Nigeria.

    But why go back to fifty years ago when there have been other federal elections, in 1979, 1983, 1993, 1999, 2003, 2007 and 2011? The point is that there is something very predictable about military-organized elections.  In terms of high drama and sheer unpredictability, military-ordained elections cannot begin to compare with pre-military era elections.  In 1979 and 1983, Chief Awolowo’s party stood no chance against the pan-military cartel known as NPN.

    The 1993 presidential election did not elicit much passion among the populace until it was annulled. The two parties, famously dismissed as government parastatals by Chief Anthony Enahoro, were seen as products of “army arrangement” totally lacking in emotional and organic connection to the people.  In 1999, AD, the restricted and narrowly based party of Awolowo’s  ideological heirs, even in alliance with APP stood no chance against the military inspired political monopoly known as PDP.  The elections of 2003 and 2007, under General Obasanjo’s watch, were in reality military exercises conducted under electoral camouflage.

    But nothing lasts forever, and change is the only thing constant in human evolution. Not even the most tightly controlled and artificially regulated military contraptions can withstand the vicissitudes of time.  It was only after the election of 2011, as a result of a series of strategic errors and lapse of concentration, that the pan-Nigerian glue that binds the dominant party has come unstuck with its military knuckle unraveling. Events are prising apart the vice-grip of the ruling coalition on Nigeria. But even then the PDP would have shambled ahead but for the emergence of the APC.

    This is why whether we like them or not, or whether we are grateful to them or not, we must give kudos to the brains behind the formation of the APC.  The APC is a triumph of will and political engineering over national adversities.  Like all ersatz coalitions, it may be lacking in ideological solidity, but what it lacks in political gravitas is more than made up for in the sheer grit and determination, the ferocious focus on the ball, of its principal partners.

    This is the first time in the post-military history of Nigeria that such a broad-based opposition coalition has been successfully cobbled together to challenge the status quo. Only those who have in themselves the spirit of pan-Nigerian possibilities and the ability to be at home in any corner of Nigeria’s expansive but fractious space could have come up with such a coalition. It is in the nature of human societies to set up their most politically talented children for execution.  Being at the frontiers of political consciousness, visionaries see what others cannot see. Like genius in other fields, it can be profoundly disruptive of the normal order.

    This is why the next two months will be very interesting indeed.  Already, panic and hysteria have invaded the hallowed and complacent sanctuary of power and debased status quo. We are beginning to hear some strange noise. A rogue presidential mastiff has even compared the reigning king to Jesus with the ancient Bethlehemite worsted in comparison. Stranger rituals are been enacted on a daily basis in the name of democracy.  In Ekiti, the majority lawmakers have been banished by the minority lawmakers and the federal authorities do not appear unduly perturbed. There is a biblical denouement about all this which portends the end of these times.

    Just as they were fifty years ago in 1964, the Yoruba people are also central to the current crisis in a way no historical pundit could have foretold. The current platform for change is powered by a core alliance between the current dominant political tendency among the Yoruba and nascent forces of change in the old north. Sixty years ago such an alliance was not only unthinkable but would have been tantamount to political heresy. This is not to talk of 1983, 1993 and 1999. It is sheer magical realism in the political theatre. History moves in very strange ways and those who are fixated on old battle formations often remind one of Don Quixote charging at some imaginary windmill while the world has moved on.

    But just as it was the case fifty years ago in 1964, the Yoruba political elite are hopelessly split down the middle this time around too while the overwhelming majority of the Yoruba populace are clamouring for change.  When this disjuncture between elite and popular aspirations prevails, the Yoruba political mob tries to wrest control precipitating a situation of revolutionary anarchy which quickly infects even the most backward and compliant sectors of the nation.

    Like every other multitude and even more so in a federated hell of collapsing federal will, the predominantly urbanized Yoruba people feel the hurt more acutely. Food is in short supply. The roads are impassable. The native herbalists have fled and modern drugs are in dire shortage. The home has  become an abode of hopelessness and a heightened awareness of insecurity  drives everyone to fear , panic and mutual loathing.

    Since the political mob or the masses lack the clarity of thought needed for an emancipatory political project or the knowledge regimen critical to transformative politics violence and industrial bloodletting become the order of the day.  For the entire society, political and social hallucination sets in. There are reported and repeated sightings of a putative messiah who will come and redeem the people. This vision of apocalyptic redemption is the outlandish fantasy of a famished people.

    Sometimes, the avenging messiah is sighted rumbling through the skies flashing the inevitable victory sign.  Magical realism without which a distraught and disorientated people can perish takes the place of political reality. Voodoo healers and other assorted miracle workers take over the polity, bypassing regular and traditional structures of politics.

    Like all conquered people trapped between the alienating necessities of western political modernity and the hobbled templates of traditional governance, the Yoruba people as we have seen often  resolve the contradictions in favour of political magic. It is the creative resolution of pressing contradictions at the level of ancient symbolism. Curiously enough, it was in Ile-Ife, the iconic founding metropolis of the unified Yoruba race, that this drama of political shamanism was enacted recently. It is to this that we must now turn.

  • Modernity and magic in Yoruba politics

    A few weeks back, a gathering of Yoruba political elders, grizzled royalties, politically displaced renegades and internally rank-shifted refugees , captains of industry and the odd gubernatorial hooligan, gathered in Ile-Ife,  the iconic homestead of the Yoruba people, ostensibly to chart the way forward for the Yoruba nation in a turbulent and tumultuous colonial contraption called Nigeria. This is just as it should be.  When elders and traditional savants desert the homestead, there is crisis everywhere.

    Tragically enough, the meeting had hardly progressed before its real intention began to manifest.  It was the latest gambit of the mainstream mantra, an ill-disguised attempt to corral and browbeat the Yoruba people into supporting the fumbling and stumbling administration of Goodluck Jonathan. In Yoruba post-colonial history, mainstreaming, or the immoral and amoral collaboration with an equally amoral and immoral federal administration, has taken several guises, colourations and mutations. But this latest one takes the prize for perfidy and betrayal of the common weal.

    What must baffle incredulous onlookers is the illustrious pedigree of some of the attendees. As this column never tires of maintaining, when the hatred of a particular individual takes precedence over all other political considerations, it leads to an occlusion of emergent political realities which in turn leads to more lamentable political misjudgments.

    It beats the imagination hollow how some of the iconic Yoruba political grandees could ever belief that a politically sophisticated and eternally conscious people like the Yoruba would buy the hogwash that their salvation lies in open collaboration with inept federal governance.  Right from independence and even before it, the Yoruba people have fought on the side of freedom and justice no matter the ethnic hue, the religious inclination or the professional accoutrement of those at the helm of affairs.

    Having been outsmarted and dumped on the political dunghill by Goodluck Jonathan in a quixotic bid for the radical restructuring of the federation which has now ended in dismal failure, it is inconceivable that they would ever imagine that the way forward for the Yoruba people is to go cap in hand before the same Jonathan to beg for juicy federal appointments, allocation of more resources and largesse from a dwindling federal purse. It doesn’t get more politically bizarre.

    In the event, the meeting turned out to be a desecration of all values that the Yoruba people hold very dear in their over a thousand years of state-formation and state-restructuring.  The irony was lost on the confreres that this self abasement was taking place in the iconic Obafemi Awolowo University which was built with Yoruba sweat without a penny from the federal government. Within a decade of its founding, the same institution became a world-class citadel of learning and an architectural masterpiece which has attracted global admiration.

    When next they choose to defecate with their mainstream mendicancy, they must choose a less holy site.  If they are unable to appreciate how central the old University of Ife is to the Yoruba psyche as a glittering symbol of their sturdy independence and devotion to excellence within the context of an under-achieving nation, they must at least appreciate the centrality of Ife in modern Yoruba history. It was in its rugged forests over a thousand years ago that a man named Oduduwa brought the inchoate sub-tribes in alignment with emergent feudal mode of centralized production by forcibly fusing them into an organic entity under the umbrella of a uni-polar authority.

    It was no surprise that the ink had hardly dried on the communiqué before the sparks started flying with factions of the student populace locked in vicious combat. It could have been worse.  The Yoruba nation has a way of communicating its political and psychic displeasures.  The magical symbolism of the event we are about to reveal ought not to have been lost on some of the participants at the Ife conference.

    About fifty years ago in 1964 after the Yoruba political mob had taken over the streets to communicate their displeasure with what they considered an usurper authority, a group of die-hard mainstreamers  journeyed to Ile-Ife to find a final solution to the problem of the man who had made life impossible for them and who has made it impossible for the Yoruba nation to join the federal mainstream.

    They reportedly stormed the Ife palace and demanded the key to the sacred Yoruba groove from the incumbent royalty with the intent of banishing forever the spirit of the turbulent man. The reigning and supremely regal Ooni, Sir Adesoji Aderemi, reportedly warned them about the utter danger of their quest. But they were furiously adamant, whereupon the wily and sagely Oba released the sacred key to them.  Upon entering the groove, the first person they met was the man whose unyielding spirit they had come to magically excommunicate from its corporeal holding smiling calmly at them. They fled in precipitate and disorderly retreat.

    But this was not the end of the matter.  As they journeyed back to the old capital, thunder struck and a multiple automobile crash ensued whose reverberations travelled for several miles. It was said that a leading Yoruba Oba (name deliberately withheld) never recovered from the wounds he sustained in the accident. He died a few months after. The stage was set for the complete combustion of the entire Yoruba nation which persisted until a military take over about eighteen months after.

    Whether this story was true or not, whether it correlates with proximate reality is completely irrelevant. It was said that the old Ooni himself was at his evasively gnomic best when pressed on the matter. Only the deeply mystical can call to the deeply mystical. The point to note was that the revered patriarch was never found out of alignment with the dominant consciousness of his volatile people.

    Politics has done its beat, and so has magic. Between political magic and magical politics, there is not much to choose for a nation in the throes of traumatic transition to some form of modernity.  The tragedy of our mainstreamers is that they understand neither the contradictory impulses of modernity with its wild and improbable actualities nor the native magic of their own people in its regenerative and recuperative possibilities.

  • Muhammadu Buhari and the paradox of a nation

    Muhammadu Buhari and the paradox of a nation

    Given his landslide victory at the just concluded APC presidential primary, Major General Mohammadu Buhari seems to be on the cusp of history once again. It is history steeped in and dripping with paradox. This needs not delay us. It has been said that thunder does not strike twice. But if the loud rumblings for change across the country and the sudden tectonic shift in favour of a sanitising presidency are anything to go by, the Daura-born general has another rendezvous with history.

    Exactly 31 years after his military colleagues chose him to be the public face of what they presented as a war against corruption and indiscipline in Nigeria, fate and the logic of aborted business seem to be conspiring to restore him to the very same pedestal. Is Buhari about to step into the same river twice? Put in another way, does history actually repeat itself?

    It is a tangled web of ironies and confounding ambiguities.  The ruins of reaction also throw up rays of revolutionary hopes. Thirty one years after riding to power on the crest of a popular military coup, General Buhari is seeking to return to the same office through free and fair elections. This will be his fourth attempt, too. As a soldier, Buhari was completely apolitical, often dripping with contempt for political generals.  But out of the army, he seems to have developed a gargantuan appetite for politics.

    On the face of it, something does not add up. Why does Nigeria appear to be going round in circles like a barber’s swivel chair without any remission or amelioration of condition?  The Buhari phenomenon is a huge paradox that requires further inquiry. We can no longer afford to play poker with the destiny of Nigeria.

    Thirty one years after the then Brigadier Sani Abacha’s historic broadcast, Nigeria roils in the quagmire of underdevelopment; a cesspit of corruption and historic malfeasance. Sullen angry crowds confront you everywhere you turn. The social fabric that binds a nation together has collapsed, leaving in its wake a state of hair-raising anomie.

    The nation has never been so ethnically, religiously and economically polarised. The north east has virtually imploded. If you factor into this the looming fiscal meltdown as a result of tumbling oil prices, it is a perfectly scary proposition. Never in its history has Nigerian been more in dire need of a redeemer or a group of redeemers.

    But there have been Nigerian redeemers and Nigerian redeemers. They have come in different sizes and shapes. Yet they have always almost without exception managed to leave the country in a worse shape than they met it. Many analysts have pointed at the structural misconfiguration of the nation right from colonial gestation which has made it impossible for Nigeria to throw up its best and brightest. Others have fingered an alien and alienating state originally designed for colonial galley slaves and which has now become an equal opportunity instrument of terror and torture. A few have chosen to blame a failure of leadership.

    Whatever may be the reason, the evidence of state failure is staggering and overwhelming. The state is in serial stasis, its comprehensive paralysis so evident that Nigeria has become a butt of continental and global jokes, its leaders treated like comic buffoons and figures of outlandish farce in a brave new world of ceaseless innovations powered by knowledge production. Even a third rate country like Chad can subject Nigeria to a cruel hoax such as we witnessed in the cleverly executed Boko Haram illusory ceasefire.

    Central to the failure and tragedy of Nigeria as a nation is the failure of military messianism such as we have witnessed in a huge chunk of post-colonial Africa. Military rule left many African countries in political and economic ruins with the military itself as an institutional bulwark of the state humbled and humiliated and a very poor shadow of its former self. In Ethiopia, Zaire, Liberia, Uganda, Rwanda, Ivory Coast, Guinea, Burundi and Sierra Leone, the official army had to be neutralised as a precondition for the reconfiguration and reorganisation of the state and the nation.

    The Nigerian military has been lucky that its misadventure in power and partisan politics has not cost it much beyond a loss of institutional coherence and cohesiveness and a structural dislocation of its old fighting flair. It could be much worse. General Mohammadu Buhari is very much a product of this military messianism in Nigeria and the paradox of his career illustrates the tragic trajectory. It also in a curiously paradoxical manner points the way forward for a cruelly afflicted nation. It is to this trajectory that we must now return.

    In February 1976 after the assassination of General Murtala Mohammed, the then Colonel Buhari was passed over for political promotion by his military superiors. To appease the core north which was still smarting over the death of the tempestuous Kano-born Mohammed, it was decided that an officer of pristine and immaculate Fulani extraction should be named as Chief of Staff, Supreme Headquarters and in effect Obasanjo’s political deputy.

    The choice narrowed to either Colonel Buhari or Lieutenant Colonel Shehu Musa Yar’Adua. Although he was Yar’Adua’s senior, it was felt that Buhari’s stiffness, his inflexibility and lack of political exposure might endanger and compromise a potentially distinguished professional career. Thus Lieutenant Colonel Yar’Adua suddenly became Brigadier Yar’Adua at the youthful age of thirty three.

    Although clever, dexterous and probably judicious in the light of extant political realities, the political engineering was not without its bizarre anomalies and contradictions. A livid Colonel David Medaiyese Jemibewon , as the governor of the old west, bluntly refused to submit himself to the dictates of his former subordinate and routinely bypassed the Supreme Headquarters  to reach General Obasanjo as Head of State.

    However that may be, the courteous, affable and fabulously savvy Yar’Adua went on to make economic hay as a businessman and as the master of militarised politics in modern Nigeria.  A wizard of the shock and awe school of political contention, Yar’Adua overwhelmed the old political ramparts with men, money and material and was virtually on his way to the State House before fatally succumbing to a combination of political and military ambush unfurled by his northern colleagues.

    In the case of General Buhari, he went on to serve with distinction and immaculate incorruptibility as Nigeria’s Petroleum Czar. He was also a star GOC as his exploits in the Chad Basin would attest. Ironically when it was time for a military coup to dismiss Nigeria’s dissolute and corrupt political class, it was Buhari’s old qualities of stiffness and inflexibility, his iron will and old-fashioned distaste for immorality that recommended him to his colleagues as the stern, no-nonsense face and visage of the new project to sanitise Nigeria.

    These qualities worked excellently well when it came to Nigeria’s external image and the management of the economy. But they foundered on the rocks of Nigeria’s cultural, political and regional polarities. It was felt in many quarters that the Buhari administration was grossly insensitive to the cultural and political sensitivities of other regions and religions. The arraignment and conviction of political villains was grotesquely lopsided. Many noted the preferential treatment given to Alhaji Shehu Shagari while his deputy, Alex Ekwueme, was kept in confinement where he developed a snowy beard of Nebuchadnezarean proportions.

    Very soon, malignant rumours began to circulate that the coup was part of a sinister Fulani project to retain power. Led by the illustrious Mahmoud Tukur, the Academic Staff Union of Nigerian Universities issued a famous treatise which dismissed the Buhari government as the military wing of the NPN. The reaction of the Buhari administration to these insinuations was a combination of astonishing innocence and political obtuseness. The government provided ammunition for its own enemies who were waiting patiently in the wing and very soon the Buhari regime became history.

    Almost 30 years after, the country has arrived at a similar conjuncture with the same Buhari as a democratic exemplar and the civilian arrowhead of a nationwide clamour for democratic restitution and a restoration of national sanity in the economic and political spheres. In the interval, Nigeria has been laid low and prostrate by a succession of military despots and civilian autocrats.

    An ethnic version of the Russian roulette or tribal round robin rammed down the country’s throat by a military cabal after they were confronted by the consequences of annulling the freest and fairest election in the country has become a political albatross with the advent of the Jonathan presidency. It is a proverbial fly perched on a delicate spot in the nation’s anatomy.

    So, is General Buhari about to step into the same river all over again?  Not exactly. If 31 years ago, the economy was in the doldrums, now it is in a violent tailspin. Thirty one years ago corruption was a national malaise, now it has become a pan-Nigerian pandemic threatening to overwhelm the nation. To worsen matters, the ethnic, religious and regional fissures of the country have become gaping wounds and a large swathe of the nation has already succumbed to religious insurgency.

    All these require much more than General Buhari’s fabled incorruptibility and granite integrity. He will be asked not just to go after economic saboteurs but to create wealth without which it will be impossible to address the issue of social inequity, and with an eye to the sensitivities of a combustible multinational nation. It will require uncommon skills, political dexterity and the sagacity of a modern miracle man.

    It is a measure of the urgency and indeed the emergency of the matter at hand that the dominant political tendency in the South West whose ideological ancestors and political forebears were in the forefront of the battle against the old Buhari administration have now teamed up with nascent political forces from the north in a last ditch bid to rescue Nigeria. This is just as it should be. We cannot be fixated on old battle orders and ancient feuds when emergent realities point at pressing and immediate dangers in other directions. Those who bear grudges of the past are rendered incapable of facing the grinding necessities of the present.

    The ringing and insistent clamour out there is for a qualitative change of leadership based on competence, integrity and higher seriousness which will rescue Nigeria from its current economic rot and political disorder. The post-June 12 ethnic formatting of leadership pioneered by a military cabal and perpetuated by General Obasanjo  has now had its time and day. Otherwise like a catatonic animal in deep hibernation, Nigeria may be put permanently to sleep by adversarial climatic conditions. We have only two months to make up our mind.

  • The General in his labyrinth

    Oh Jeez!!! Oh Jesus of Nazareth, has anyone else been reading the caustic and rebarbative memoirs of the one and only baba in town? As they say, an elephant skull is not a luggage for small children. It weighs in at three power-packed tomes and is a compendium of our history from Baba’s sour, surly and occasionally unreliable perspective.

    But you must give it to the crusty old contrarian any day. Unlike most of our tragic rulers, the autumnal warlord has a sense of history and an eye for history, as the cerebral General Julius Alani Ipoola Akinrinade memorably put it. Whether you like him or not or what he has to say or not, Baba made history and is stoutly determined to force his version of it down our throat. It is a compelling exercise in ironic self-immolation.

    Written in passable workmanlike prose, it is the equivalent of a literary slugfest. Baba does not take hostages, and neither is he interested in the fabled Geneva Convention for warfare. Rules of engagement, my foot, as the old man would put it. In the event, baba leaves behind a blood-splattered canvas, dripping with the grisly gore of his mortal enemies. Baba is not just content with slaying his mortal adversaries, he draws and quarters them, making sure that resurrection is beyond them.

    Umaru Yar’Adua, baba’s  political protégé, is dredged up and summarily dismissed as an ingrate. Since baba said that he acted in higher national interest in foisting the sickly fellow on an unsuspecting nation, one is left wondering what the Katsina nobleman is supposed to be grateful for. What baba has to say about Jonathan, his other protégé, is not the stuff for the fainthearted. The collateral damage is bound to affect the Ijaw man’s presidential fortunes in the coming months.

    Soyinka, Gani Fawehinmi and Yesufu Bala Usman were all singled out for full page treatments. After grudgingly acknowledging their merits and talents, the old general mercilessly put them to the sword for their lamentable foibles. In the case of Wole Soyinka, baba approvingly quotes an “old classmate” who says that “Wole” has always been like that and he will always be like that.

    In the particular case of Brigadier Alabi-Isama who so famously and memorably adduced weighty evidence against baba’s fabled generalship, the old warlord pointedly ignored the substantive allegations to indulge in wild ad hominem demolition of character and reputation. Alabi-Isama had always been clever but arrogant and unreliable. He was a soldier of fortune with an eye for mercantilist gaming. It was a good thing that it was Theophilus Danjuma, his former classmate, who eventually cashiered him. Alabi-Isama may often be found in bed with a woman while telling his commander that he was in hot pursuit of rebels. Phew!!!!!

    When he finally ran short of victims, baba rounded on his own family, like some old King Lear. Despite his warning two of his children about a plot by the Jonathan administration to use members of his family to smear him, Iyabo, his favourite daughter, succumbed to inducement and took her own father to the cleaners in a famous epistle.

    What else can one say after this? A man who is not sovereign over himself and his family cannot be sovereign over others.  It is compelling historical cameo of flawed greatness and a glimpse into the tortured and tormented labyrinth of a tarnished titan.

  • Prospects in adversity

    Prospects in adversity

    IT never rains but pours, as they say. This past week, one cannot but weep for Mother Nigeria. Snooper does not normally engage in silly sentiments but the sight of a potentially great nation being battered and buffeted from all sides by increasingly violent storms cannot but evoke pity and passion. It is like watching the ruined hulk of a once magnificent heavyweight boxer being tossed and trussed around the ring like an expired paperweight.

    No one can be sure which one of the savage blows will prove fatal. But there can be no doubt that something is about to give.  Even for a lion-hearted nation that has seen off many adversities the combination of spiritual, political, economic and military disasters might prove a bridge too far. When you combine needless political turmoil, a rampart and remorseless religious uprising, the spiritual disorientation of a whole society with looming economic collapse, you have a perfect storm unfurling.

    In nautical terms, a perfect storm occurs when a rare confluence of events leads to a dramatic worsening of a situation. In political terms, a perfect storm occurs when a rare convergence of different situations leads to a drastic worsening of circumstances. In the same week that Jonathan shot himself in the foot by ordering an invasion of the National Assembly, the Boko Haram insurgents almost added a state capital to their prized possessions.

    As if these national tribulations were not enough, a major economic crisis signposted by dwindling petroleum revenues led to a summary devaluation of the naira.  Nigerian officials have tried to put a bold face to this looming economic meltdown by insisting that our reserves should see us through. Like economic Rip van Winkles, they seem incapable of grasping the magnitude of the unfolding drama.

    Dwindling revenues would lead to a drastic scaling down of capital projects; a worsening balance of state obligations and further loss of human capital. The bloated and bogus thirty-six state structure will become so severely cash-strapped in a matter of months that paying salaries will become a major miracle. All the indices point to an economic implosion. The next few months will be tense and fraught indeed.

    One major crisis is often enough for any nation. But for a nation to be simultaneously confronted by severe crises in the most critical segments of human governance is beyond the normal order of things. On the face of it, it may look as if Nigeria is a victim of a monstrous national and international conspiracy to bring it to heel. The behavior of some of our neighbours appears very suspicious. Our old western patrons and partners appear to have given up completely on the nation as a viable project.

    Yet on closer scrutiny and deeper observation, we are actually the architects of our own misfortunes. In order to ensure the sustenance of civilisation and the survival of the human species, nature often places a curse on its bounties. We must not be content with consuming them as we find them. We must add value to them through labour and ceaseless imagination. Without this fundamental law of nature, there would have been no civilisation and humankind would have remained stranded at the hunter-gatherer stage of existence. The wielded scythe speaks its own poetry and every human society that has excelled is a product of industry and poetic imagination.

    As a result of an unproductive political elite stuck at the feral level of human existence with its impulse for immediate game-sharing so reminiscent of primitive hunting packs, we have allowed oil to become a curse on the nation. In almost 60 years of oil prospecting in the nation, we have not added any value to the black gold, beyond pocketing its proceeds and indulging in outlandish consumption of foreign goods.

    This monocultural nature of our economy has completely distorted our growth and development and now threatens to swamp everything in an oily sludge. Beyond empowering only a few and leaving the rest to wallow in poverty and biblical misery, those who claim to be the rightful owners of the oil wells have not done much better than those they traditionally dismiss as parasites and leeches. Irrespective of ethnic extraction, the Nigerian political elite is cut from the same societal loins.

    Many other societies have learnt their lessons the hard way. In the sixteenth century, gold from the Potosi mines of South America brought ruinous inflation to metropolitan Spain. The country went on a long spiral of economic and political dysfunction in which it was humiliated in turn by Holland, its former colony, England and then America which stripped it of its last illusions as a global power. It has taken four centuries, several political upheavals and a momentous civil war for the land of matadors to recover its bearing.

    But we live in a different global order. As Nigeria begins to foam in blood from all fronts, it should also be clear that the international community out of enlightened self interest will not allow its misery to be prolonged or protracted. If the Boko Haram insurgency represents the rogue Islamic initiative, the unfolding oil war between America and the Saudi kingdom may yet turn out to be some final solution. Between them, Jonathan’s frantic assaults on national institutions serve as the local catalyst.

    With such a distinguished list of potential terminators on the queue, Nigeria will be hard pressed to survive on a day to day basis. If we are lucky, it may all end in the remarkable recombination and reconstitution of the Nigerian nation. If not a conglomeration of warlord enclaves beckons. But the point to note is that there is opportunity in crisis and possibilities in utter adversity.

    Given the events of the past few weeks, a consensus is beginning to emerge that the nation has reached a historic watershed and it cannot continue along this ruinous path. Hitherto, it has been a dialogue of the deaf between two seemingly immovable ethnic ramparts without any possibility of a pan-Nigerian resolution or a peaceful post-Nigerian dispersal of the tribes. There are those who believe that no matter the incompetence and skittish nature of the Jonathan administration, it must continue to rule for the foreseeable future because there are other sections  that have also serially misruled the nation and for much longer too. The patent does not belong to the husband of Patience. Neither does the Nigerian patient.

    On the other hand, there are those who passionately hold the view that if Jonathan is not out of Aso Rock and the presidential mansion before or after the next elections , then we can as well forget about Nigeria as a corporeal entity. For this band, Nigeria might as well disappear since any further extension of Jonathan’s tenure will spell doom and eventful ruination politically and economically for the old North, its teeming masses and the rump of its feudal aristocracy.  It was as if Nigeria was sleepwalking to a self-fulfilling prophecy. No country has been known to survive an election fuelled by such polarisations.

    The granite disavowals are gradually yielding to pragmatic realities. The search for the Nigerian saviour or a group of people who will redeem the nation from its current morass has resumed in earnest. The parties are not perfect, and going forward the elections will not be perfect. But in order to genuinely commence the structural re-engineering that Nigeria so badly needs at this momentous stage of its existence, we need a democratic mechanism for change or continuity as the case may be which will be acceptable to majority of Nigerians.

    In the past two weeks, one has come across a few people from the South South and Ijaw nation willing to question Jonathan’s eligibility for another term based purely on performance in office. This is just as it should be. In the dialectic of human development, all that is solid often melts into thin air. By the same token, the gradual dilution and domestication of the old CPC by the ACN and UPGA crowds means that this time around the contest cannot be framed as a death duel between the messiah and the militant. Many things have happened since 2011.

    Of course in a multi-national post-colonial polity, elections are never the ideal panacea for the resolution of national conflicts. As this column has repeatedly argued, elections may actually exacerbate the national question. But having sabotaged the outcome of its own conference ab initio, free and fair elections remain the best referendum for the Jonathan era and the way forward in the short median. In any case, with the current foul mood in the National Assembly and the whispers of impeachment, it is no longer possible to push through any constitutional panel-beating through that august body.

    So let the contending parties come out with their manifestoes, stating clearly how to end the Boko Haram menace and how to go about the depetrolisation of the Nigerian economy. Let us have a real presidential debate. Going forward, the Buhari group may find their political consorting with the dominant political tendency in the South West at once profoundly liberating and modulating.

    Conversely  as they break out of their regional cocoons, the ACN folks may also find it profoundly liberating and modulating to discover that the whole notion of an ideologically and hence politically monolith west is a self-sustaining myth requiring constant propitiation. Out of the ugly clouds of destruction and disintegration, there may yet be some silver lining in the horizon.

  • Baba Lekki takes on the Doyen of Dystopia

    IT has not been a particularly good week for presidential Rottweilers, particularly the master of the mastiffs or doyen of dachshunds, the great roly-poly prince from Remo principality, the once and probably future medic himself.  The week opened with a coruscating inquiry into the nature and culture of sycophancy by the noted syndicated journalist with the mellifluous sounding name Sonala.

    The Ishan-born America-based poet and polemicist laid the cane deep in the back of the doyen with the merciless and painstaking thoroughness of an ancient headmaster wielding his favourite koboko. It was a harsh and unsparing exercise. Not even the fact that both were alumni and contemporaries of what was known in folk parlance as UI, Ibadan could evince pity and sympathy from the great columnist and master of lapidary prose. As the lancing and lacerating bilala seared through the mass of flesh, one could almost hear the Ijebu prince pleading for mercy in native Remo dialect. “ Areeee. We ma po nia!”

    It was not very long ago that Snooper encountered a dandified and princely looking doyen decked in ancient damask at the wedding of the son of Prince Olusunmade Akin-Olugbade and the daughter of Dr Seyi Roberts. It was a class act. As the musician sang his praise to the high heavens, the great attack mastiff capered and cantered and with backward integration when necessary. You could not but admire even if you are his political adversary.

    But those appear to be happier times. Even a master mastiff sometimes buckles under the great strain of being leashed and unleashed at short notice. This is not to talk of being constantly sharked and snaggled at by other rottweilers particularly when food is served.   Tsunami Sonala had hardly subsided when the one and only Nobel laureate with his leonine mane bracing and bristling took the Jonathan administration to the cleaners in a historic philippic dripping with venom and vitriol.  The doyen could only offer a tame and tepid response.

    Not satisfied with recent political developments, Okon went in search of Baba Lekki, the ancient sage who was now living in a cave not very far from Iba on the road to LASU. Okon met the old contrarian helping himself to a huge meal of roasted antelope which he washed down with fresh and foaming palm wine.

    “Ha baba, na bushmeat you dey whack like dat. No be ebola go kill you so?” the impish and impudent boy opened.

    “Ha kukuruku boy, you are a fool. Ebola no dey kill ebora. I dey kampe”, the old man snorted as he wolfed down a huge chunk of the prized venison.

    “Baba, na only you and dem other baba remain for dis dem bushmeat business”, Okon began but Baba Lekki cut him off.

    “Him be ebora Owu, me I be ebora Iba, so get that into your kukuruku blockhead”, Baba snapped.

    “Okay, dem kulikuli Yoruba doctor for dem Aso Rock say na Jonny boy be dem greatest president for Obodo” Okon noted.

    “Who be dat?” Baba Lekki asked in mock alarm.

    “Ha dat one who dey bite everybody like dem digbolugi dog”, Okon sneered.

    Baba Lekki burst into prolonged laughter punctuated by hiccups. “Dat one na økuugbe”. Without understanding what that meant, Okon guessed it was a heavy slammer and it was his turn to roll on the floor with mirth.

    “You see dat yeye boy, him dey call Soyinka Ogongo. When ogongo come strike am him mama go cry for am” Baba Lekki resumed.

    “Baba, wetin be ogomugomu?“, Okon asked the old man.

    “Yeye kukuruku boy, ogongo is ostrich in Yoruba.”

    “Ha, ha baba na dat remind me of dem Yoruba governor dem they call jailbird. Him jail bird sotey Obasanjo come jail am too. But last week katakata burst and come free dem prisoners for  him obodo.” Okon chanted excitedly.

    “Dem governor he dey for inside jail or outside?” Baba demanded with a scholarly frown.

    “Baba why now, why you come ask?” Okon crowed.

    “Because if him dey inside jail he mean say na him people come liberate am, and if him dey outside he mean say na him come liberate him people. Na elewon dey free elewon”. On that note, the great magi dismissed Okon.

  • Party Formations and State Crisis

    Party Formations and State Crisis

    The endemic crisis of party formations in Nigeria bears an organic relationship to the crisis of the post-colonial state in the nation. In other words, the originating crisis of the post-colonial state, its inability to manage and resolve contradictions arising from elite contestations for allocation of privileges and resources, finds an eloquent testimony in the inchoate and incoherent nature of party formations, particularly in the post-military polity. What was designed to resolve a conflict has in effect become an integral part of, and party to, the conflict.

    Fifteen years into post-military civil rule, the democratic project in Nigeria is showing signs of deep stress and strains. There is democratic regression and the recession of civil rule everywhere. All the indices of the failure of the democratic process are here with us, thumbing at our face with impudence. From the failure of periodic elections to coincide with the real wish of the electorate, the abridgement of the right to free association, the curtailing of free movement during elections, the draconian imposition of the will of the minority on the wishes of the majority to the abrogation of the doctrine of the separation of authority.

    But even more importantly, with the phenomenon of executive outlawry in which the state violates its own sacred authority by becoming a violent nuisance to the rest of the society, we are witnessing a new strain of state delinquency. Anarchy looms everywhere and the state itself, reeling from the hammer of a vicious armed critique, is better surveiled by non-state combatants than it is capable of the surveillance of society. The hunter has become the hunted.

    Many optimists find this scary situation as consistent with the teething problems of democratic rule particularly after a long incubation in authoritarian rule. Whether the imminent death of a perpetual toddler is the same as its teething problems remains to be seen. There are those who take a less sanguine view, and who look at the current developments as the inevitable death throes of fledgling democracy.  If we have achieved anything at all in the Fourth Republic, it is the fact that we have kept the military at bay, and for the longest period in our history.

    But the absence of military rule does not equate to the presence of a truly democratic dispensation. This past week, a noted lawyer and civil rights campaigner, painted a dire picture of an impending collapse of civil rule in Nigeria. Judging by the responses from the internet and the social media, it was clear that the current democratic charade would not be missed.

    To make things even more ominous, it was the same week that General Olusegun Obasanjo, the man who bequeathed Goodluck Jonathan to the nation and who could be held mainly responsible for the limited successes of the Fourth Republic as well as its hideous failures, opened what is in military parlance a multiple front against his own protégé. For the Jonathan administration, it is an endgame of some sorts.

    Obasanjo is a brilliant past-master when it comes to strategic stripping of legitimacy, and the clouds are pregnant indeed. The turbulence and tempest suggest an abnormal gestation and birth. But in the end, nothing can come out of nothing. The post-colonial state, unlike the founding colonial imperium, is neither a creation nor an organic outgrowth of the post-colonial nation. The colonial state and the entire colonial project were not willed into existence to manage conflicts among elite factions but to suppress and brutalise them into compliance and conformity.

    The organising principle of the post-colonial state is force and conquest and not elite conciliation and consensus. Every ascendant faction close off the state to their competitors and barricade themselves in. There is no attempt at compromise or conflict resolution. The arena of the state is a coliseum of contending gladiators; Androcles and lions in a Roman pit of industrial bloodletting.

    In such circumstances, any African state-nation that must survive this originating curse of the colonial nation and its violence-prone state must witness a revolutionary rebirth or some radical surgery pioneered and spearheaded by a visionary political elite or a nationalist military officer-class. This is what has happened in Ghana through a lucky combination of both, in Tanzania, Senegal, Botswana and Zambia through messianic statesmanship and in South Africa and perhaps Benin Republic through a radicalised political class immensely aware of its historic mission.

    Nigeria has not been lucky with such historic game-changers. Hence, its post-independence political culture has seen a grim oscillation between military despotism and civilian tyranny. It is a lineage of fascism and absolutism stretching back to colonial conquest. Rather than leading to genuine liberation and the exchange of colonial subjecthood with post-colonial citizenship, independence merely led to the Africanisation of the personnel of autocracy.

    But this relay race between two or three varieties of tyranny cannot subsist forever. Civilians are not professional managers of violence. The ding-dong between contending autocracies can only eventuate in full blown military rule or a vicious armed critique of the state which may lead to dismemberment and dissolution such as we are witnessing with the Boko Haram insurrection.

    It may be important to remind contending political gladiators irrespective of party affiliation or ideological inclination that since we are also dealing with a fundamental crisis of elite formation, what is required goes beyond the purview of partisanship and regular politics . The current elite formation in Nigeria ,whether at the national level or at the regional or local levels, faces grave pressures from the margins and from below. If the nation were to be overwhelmed by adversity or if the radical tremors were to become a full earthquake, it is the entire elite formation in Nigeria that will go under. This is why it is important for everyone to put on their thinking cap.

    Central to the crisis of democratization in the post-colonial polity is the crisis of party formations. In a huge, chaotic and unwieldy political amalgam like Nigeria with its teeming spiritual, economic and cultural contraries, the crisis is bound to assume an urgent and critical dimension. From the run up to independence and thereafter, our parties have found it difficult to function as genuine agencies for the expansion of the democratic space or as popular platforms for advancing the political and economic empowerment of the populace.

    The fault is not in their stars. You cannot plant maize and expect to harvest yam. Going by the constitutive logic of colonial conquest itself, their aim is to capture the state and share the booty of conquest. It is a harsh and merciless venture that leaves no room for political idealism or utopian fantasies. The sole object of power is power, as George Orwell will put it. The parties are organised cartels for the sole purpose of capturing power.

    Whether you like it or not, it requires considerable financial outlay, political discipline and formidable psychological stamina. It can be very chummy and plumy when the going is good and the cards are stacked in your favour. Hence the absurd anomaly on the part of some followers screaming imposition in parties that are very much private liabilities companies entirely funded by individuals who put down men and material.

    But going by the very same logic, the equally absurd anomaly on the part of leaders screaming betrayal and perfidy in parties that are not held together by deep ideological bonding or the umbilical cord of political kinship should be obvious. It is an engrossing game of double-digit deception. As Orwell again famously puts it, under the spreading chestnut tree, you sold me and I sold you. In the brutal casuistry of power calculus everything—and everybody—is game.

    It is when the logic of certain developments is pushed to its ultimate possibility that it also becomes obvious why such developments cannot be sustained. Going by the Tambuwal affair and the obvious threat to both civil rule and national stability, the gale of defection, the epidemic of political infidelity and the open, porous nature of party borders have now reached a point where the system and the Fourth Republic are about to be overwhelmed. The crisis of party formation has become a major threat to the continued survival of the state as well as democratic experiment itself. We cannot proceed or progress without an urgent and radical reform.

    Going forward, we may need to cast a retrospective glance at the past and to the origin of the crisis. If we view the First Republic and its iconic parties with a certain nostalgia, it is ironically because we are missing something about the dynamics of party formation in that fabled epoch. Virtually all the parties that were to play a major role in the post-independence politics of Nigeria began either as protest movements at the local and regional level or as cultural confraternities.  In the case of the Northern People’s Congress before it transformed into the Nigerian People’s Congress, it began as a cultural platform for the protection of Arewa interests and never really wavered in its single-minded pursuit of Hausa-Fulani hegemony. In the case of NEPU, it was a protest movement of the talakawa against the northern feudal hegemony.

    The Action Group had its origins in the cultural movement known as Egbe Omo Oduduwa which existed solely to advance and protect the interests of the Yoruba people. For the National Council of Nigeria and Cameroons (NCNC) before it transformed into the National Convention of Nigerian Citizens (NCNC) it was a bi-national movement, and after its transformation, an Igbo imprimatur was writ large on its modus operandi.

    In the circumstance and precisely because of their cultural solidity, none of these parties was able to transform into a genuine platform of national aspiration at the centre. Hence their reliance on mutually destructive alliances which eventually proved very fatal to democracy, civil rule and the nation itself. After the trauma of the civil war, the military sought to correct this ruinous political legacy by encouraging the formation of huge pan-Nigerian parties which would accommodate the interests of a large swathe of the political elite. Both the NPN and the PDP are products of this military political laboratory.

    In the case of General Babangida, he sought a clever and creative variation by creating two huge political monopolies, one a little to the left and the other a little to the right. But like all political magicians, he did not reckon with concrete contradictions. MKO Abiola, a well-known conservative, became the flag bearer of the progressive platform and by bringing the rightwing resources of opulent wealth and vital connections to bear on what is essentially a leftwing project of demilitarisation ended up upending military calculations and the rule of the uniformed.

    If an Abiola, a product of the military oligarchy, ended up being their nemesis, Jonathan, a product of civilianised military plutocracy, is proving to be their nemesis too. Like all people who seek to play god in the affairs of men, Obasanjo never reckoned with concrete contradictions. As a human with a limited knowledge of contending possibilities, there are many things you can never factor into these power games.

    However that may be and despite some brilliant isolated performances against the run of play, it is now clear that these power cartels and political monopolies can only transit Nigeria back to the Stone Age of corruption and paralysed incompetence. Without a radical rebirth of the nation and its current party formations, the next few months will be trying indeed.

  • Two nights in Asaba as Omu Ahaba goes home

    o the pleasantly provincial state capital of Asaba and its lush and leafy suburbia for the final burial rites of its late illustrious Queen Bee, Obi Maria Ejima Obielua-Chizea, Omu Ahaba, beloved mother of our friend and NYSC Third Corps buddy, Claire Afulenu and also of Dora Obiajulu Chizea MD (enyi Nnejika), Dr Ezenwa Chizea, the old Loyolan, and of course Isioma, beloved wife of our late kinsman, Niyi Ige, a nobleman of Edun Abon. The life of this extraordinary woman who was granted a miraculous reprieve from certain death after being thrown into the bush as a female twin is the stuff of magical fiction and is better told by her own son.

    And so for two whole days a fortnight ago, the entire town stood still to bid its late Queen mother a befitting farewell. All markets were closed in honour of the great woman. For the impatiently industrious Igbo people, this was quite a great sacrifice. It was a colourful carnival and a moveable feast of cultural display as fearsome Egwugwus jostled with fierce warlike dancers. It was as if one was transported back to Things Fall Apart.  Nestling on the western bank of the famous River Niger, Asaba combines old rustic charms with accelerating modernity which can be pleasantly unnerving. The new airport was a clever, entrepreneurial coup.

    You knew you were in for some great adventure as the Arik plane came to land, banking steeply as the chaotic towers of Onitsha came into view in all their anarchic tribute to mercantilist dynamism gone haywire. The muddy and murky waters of the Niger churn its way towards the Delta with the languid grace of an old mermaid. In between the culinary extravaganza, Snooper slipped across the bridge and into Onitsha.

    The last time one was here, the whole place reminded one of the feral zoo of downtown Kinshasa as men with formidable biceps wrestled with rickety contraptions, tempers flaring and furious fists flying in all directions. It was an anarchic bedlam; a tribute to misbegotten enterprise. This time around, the chaos had miraculously disappeared. It has taken the atypical calm and moderating mellowness of Peter Obi to achieve this. The masquerade without a mask is the master of all masquerades. It has been very pleasant in Asaba and Snooper will be back. May the Omu Ahaba rest in peace.