Category: Tatalo Alamu

  • Okon cooks for Dino

    Okon cooks for Dino

    As they say, man pikin be man pikin. You cannot summon the tiger to devour a badly behaved chap. No one can be completely useless, at least they can always serve as an ignoble example of ignominy. Readers will be surprised that this weathered lothario was not completely averse to Dino Melaye until he crossed certain borders of gender civility and sensitivity in the senate which showed him up as an uncouth, ill-bred lout.

    But even then, yours sincerely retains a sneaking fascination for the rogue politico from the Yoruba plains of Kogi State. On a good day, and given his tendency for histrionics and ham-acting, the totally self-absorbed but self-mismanaging politician is a good copy for social media scavengers and other hyenas of the underground press. But man must whack even after a historic drubbing.

     A day after the resounding shellacking his gubernatorial bid received in the hands of the Kogi Kaiser, Yahaya Bello, and his Amalgamated Army of Ebira Revanchists, Dino was seen in public shedding tons of tears and verbiage as usual. After collecting their pay cheques, the crowd had thinned even further.

    The poor boy seems to have a great future firmly behind him. A notable Kogi philosopher who claims to be a distant uncle of Dino from their Aiyetoro Gbede enclave once rued with usual cerebral acumen that if Dino does not harm politics, politics will harm him. That day of reckoning seems to be upon us.

      Last Wednesday, Okon, the ultimate undertaker, was sighted carrying two full cans with exaggerated caution. Having earlier declared an industrial dispute over pay matters and other emoluments, yours sincerely thought that it might well be that the mad boy had come to put finishing touches and torches to the entire household. He was followed by a drunken Baba Lekki who was chanting war songs and ancient ditties from Odolaiye Aremu brimming with sly innuendoes and subversive animosities.

    “Okon what is that you are carrying?” yours sincerely demanded rather fearfully.

       “ Ha oga, na tears from dem yeye Dino boy. Him cry sotey he come fill four cans”, the mad boy retorted with sadistic relish. “I tell you dem crazy boy sabi cry well well and him com dey sound like dem trailer wey him engine come knock as he dey climb Miliki Hill for Enugu”.

     “So what do you want to do with Dino’s tears?” one asked the mad boy mightily relieved.

      “ Ha oga, I wan use am cook amala for dem poor boy”, the mad boy retorted.

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    “ Okon dat one no be amala again oo, na dat one dem dey call amulumala”, Baba Lekki snorted as he burst into a deranged fit of convulsive laughter which reminded one of asthmatic baboons in the jungle.

     “Baba wetin be amulumulu again? You don come with your Yoruba jibiti again?” Okon crowed.

    “Ha!! Omo were!! Na dat one dem dey call omipojoka or water pass yam flour. Wetin kukuruku small boy like you sabi?” Baba Lekki crowed as he began singing and dancing to a classic tune from the unforgettable Odolaiye Aremu.

      Ti won bape e wa gberu awon

      B’eru o bati danu

    Afi b’eleru o safira

    Tio safira ooo

    Afi b’eleru o safira.

    The ancient crook was quite a sight to behold as he cantered forward and capered sideway like a possessed votary of some ancient deity. The mad boy cut short his celebration.

     “Baba as dem thing dey sweet you pass anything, make you no forget say dem use one stone finish two birds for Kogi. As dem finish Dino, dem don finish him people oo. He sweet me say Yoruba people no fit see power for dem place again lai lai”, the crazy boy sneered.

      “Kai, kai Okon na dem IBB and dem Daura man cause dat one. Thunder fire all of them”, the old man screamed and vanished into the shadow leaving Okon to carry his cans of tears.

  • Old and new forces in contention

    Old and new forces in contention

    As a legal layman and landlubber, the columnist hardly dabbles into controversies involving the timeless intricacies of the law. The law is a moody arbiter that can confer legality on illegality, and illegitimate the legitimate depending where the wind of power and class supremacy is blowing.

    As a columnist for Newswatch in the roaring eighties, yours sincerely got a severe reprimand from a serving Supreme Court justice who wondered aloud how an ordinary teacher of Literature could teach his lordships how to dispense justice. Now we have come full circle.

      If his lordship from Edo State is still alive, he would have known that something nasty has finally hit the ceiling fan. There are times when one cannot resist plotting a nation’s path away from perdition, particularly if the path is entangled in urgent calls for a constitutional review of the nation’s organizing principle.

     Those who are adept at reading the national mood swing and the ever shifting tempi of political engagement ought to have noticed this development. After the epic battle of legitimation and delegitimation following the February 25th presidential election finally ran its course, attention is gradually shifting to another theatre of the political arena.

       It is the renewed battle for constitutional order which has been a recurring decimal in the country’s political evolution, particularly in the post-independence epoch. In the past fortnight, the nation has witnessed some urgent calls from some quarters for a new constitution to replace the extant one which is no longer fit for purpose.

      When stripped of jargon, many of these calls for a total constitutional makeover of the country are also a subtle ploy to delegitimize or even de-constitutionalize the current administration by capitalizing on its unforced administrative errors and political mistakes.

    But to do that, we will have to delegitimize the entire Fourth Republic on which the political structure stands. There are no two ways about it and this is why a lot depends on the subsisting hegemonic coalition at the centre and the forces in contention.

    In a fundamentally paradoxical manner, the coalition cobbled together by Senator Bola Ahmed Tinubu has driven a deep wedge into the heart of the old amalgam of progressives, equal opportunity freedom fighters and activists alike. It is very difficult to see how they can regroup soon enough to trouble the new administration, unless new forces are spawned by galloping social contradictions ignited by hubris and overconfidence. 

       Constitutional amendment always depends on the stage the political and historical dialectic has reached and the subsisting balance of forces. In advanced democracies the sure fire strategy of the ruling class is to wait and see until there is a clear, unmanageable cleavage in the society: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix.

        It is to be noted that all the major constitutional reforms undertaken in the US and by leading western democracies in the last one century have been as a direct response to pressure from below by furious mobs and affronted patron saints of the political underground. When it comes to constitutional reforms that benefit the whole of the society, the streets have always seized the state by the scruff of the neck, depending on the cataclysmic political momentum they can muster.

      In Britain, the long drawn campaign to enthrone and enshrine adult suffragette and the right of women to vote in the constitution as well as the murderous Sinn Fein insurrection to compel devolution of power in unitary Great Britain come to mind.

       So do the age-long civil rights movements in America which culminated in major constitutional changes as well as the disruptive students’ upheavals in the late sixties in France which upended the authoritarian rule of General Charles de Gaulle. In the original American constitution, the Blacks were regarded as unmentionable sub-species of humanity that could not vote or be voted for. The avatars of the civil rights movement and their heroic foot soldiers changed all that. 

    As experience has shown in Nigeria and most other African countries, no government will willingly divest itself of its sovereignty or surrender to the dictates of a constitution-making body unless such a government has been so badly weakened by a series of delegitimizing events that it was only in government and no more in power.

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     Such was the case with General Mathieu Kerekou in Benin Republic in 1989 when a coalition of civil society organizations brought the government to heel by declaring its sovereignty. Having lost the support of the majority of his military colleagues, the man famously feared for his occasional recourse to voodoo calisthenics to overwhelm his enemies could only watch as power slipped away.

    Four years later in Nigeria in 1993 as the rage and revulsion occasioned by the annulment of the freest and fairest election in the history of the nation developed into an apocalyptic storm, General Ibrahim Babangida would proclaim that he was not only in government but in power.

      Yet despite the bluff and bluster, it was obvious to the discerning observer that the basis of that power—his military constituency—was having ideas different from supporting a discredited dictator. It was just a matter of weeks before it showed its true hands.

       What did it for Babangida was not the extant political parties created by him and famously dismissed by Chief Tony Enahoro as government parastatals but a covert alliance between regnant and ascendant civil and political society forces and a disaffected faction of the military. The two state parties, despite the utter nonsense of one being a little to the left and the other being a little to the right, retained fidelity to their founder and patron during the nation’s darkest hour.

       When the chips finally came down and with the military state as homogenizing leviathan, the two parties showed their true colour: while the one to the right went completely rogue by insisting that annulment meant that no election ever took place, the one to the left sold its victory to military conspirators and endorsed an interim national government.

    Whatever their internal differences and differentiations into competing ideologies, state parties will always be complicit with the state and its fundamentally conserving orientation, unless there is a major disruption from outside oppositional forces which alters the nature and composition of the state and which makes going forward impossible without a major constitutional reconfiguration.

    It is with this background in mind that we must now come to the Fourth Republic and the current regime. Despite its manifest imperfections and having weathered the last storm, what we are witnessing is the rise and further rise of the Fourth Republic.

    What its various interlocutors have failed to grasp is the fact that a subsisting regime is a reflection of the various forces in contention, including their strengths and limitations. Having failed this elementary test of perception, they often compound it with further errors of logic and political praxis.

      Constitution making anywhere in the world is hardly a plebeian affair or a festival of the hoi polloi. It is essentially an elitist document, which, depending on the nature of the regime and the balance of forces in contention, either percolates down to incorporate populist yearnings or, like the American Constitution, is a bottom-up process in which delegates must reflect views from below.

       But in order to show who is really in charge and to counterbalance any concession to unwarranted populism, the framers of the American constitution put in place an authoritarian and patrician senate as well as an electoral college which actually elects the president. It has been described as a form of democratic eugenics.

    The grouse of numerous critics of the constitution of the Fourth Republic is the fact that it is an unapologetically authoritarian document without any concession to populist niceties. It is a reflection of its tumultuous circumstances.

      Harried and harassed out of its wits, befuddled and completely demoralized but still holding the power aces, the military establishment was in no position to hold or initiate any country-wide consultation. All it wanted to do was to find the leverage to hand over power to its chosen successors and let them get on with the business of cleaning the mess they were leaving behind.

       Unfortunately, the opposition itself was not in a better shape to mount any challenge at this point. Riven by internal dissensions about when enough was enough, crippled by struggle fatigue and the lack of a tradition of long-distance campaign against state violations of the right of the citizens and decimated by competing personal ambitions, they were ready to put up with anything from the military as long as the handover date remained sacrosanct.

    The constitution was an accurate reflection of the forces at play and the subsisting balance of power. Let people not deceive themselves. Just as they have done with the annulment five years earlier, the military simply appropriated the people in a final slap of authoritarian contempt.

    To be sure, it was an act of military overreach and overstretch to have prefaced the constitution with the gratuitous “we, the people” preamble. But this is nothing but an overstatement of insecurity.

     In any case, there were those who argued that since the 1979 and 1999 Constitutions were sired from the same legal and political loins by very much the same set of actors minus one or two who had succumbed to biological coup d’etat, they simply assumed that the acquiescent people of 1979 were still very much there, Zango Kataf, Major Orkar, June 12, Abiola and Abacha notwithstanding.

      Once installed in power, Obasanjo treated the pro-democracy movement with breezy contempt, even when he was beholden to many of their leading patriarchs while in jail. Even though he was very much aware of the stirring role of many of the gallant warriors of democracy in seeing off the military, he knew that the source and provenance of his second ascendancy lay solidly with his old constituency as well as new patrons in the reconstituted oligarchy.

        The Owu-born general was also politically smart enough to engineer a fracture in the movement from which it is yet to recover. Obasanjo pooh-poohed the possibility of two sovereigns in a single state. This was why despite the prodigious resources and energies invested, the PRONACO conference came to naught. It was only when the wily general attempted to overreach himself through tenure elongation that the same forces that put him there organized his comeuppance.

      There are interesting convergences between the current conjuncture and the Obasanjo post-military dispensation. The current administration is not a product of prodemocracy agitations. The prodemocracy rump and the various self-determination groups cannot be said to be behind Tinubu’s victory at the polls. It is not advisable for them to begin issuing orders about when and how to restructure the country.

    The current administration is acutely aware of the spirited attempts by many of these groups to deny it of victory and to strip it of legitimacy after the election. It is not everybody who can act the unaffected statesman after warding off such hostile onslaughts. As we have seen with the events of the past twenty four years, a desirable goal when wrongly pursued will meet with an undesirable end.

      Let us not put the cart before the horse once again. Constant reconfiguration is a precondition for national survival. But in circumstances of persistent elite rancour and mutual hostility, it can take forever until something gives. We have been perilously close to that tipping point.

       Let the government temper its sullen resentment with some patriotic sufferance. In order to create the atmosphere of substantive elite compliance needed for a creative reconfiguration of the country, it is now imperative to have a post-election reconciliation and reapproachment.

     Unfortunately, rather than create the condition for elite amity needed to push the country forward, we are witnessing attempts to push the nation to the brink of violence. With Labour stiffening in its adversarial posturing and the movement of Michael Imoudu and Hassan Sunmonu mutating into a primordial phalanx led by ethnic vagrants and barely literate thugs, the stage is being gradually set for an explosive confrontation.

    It is going to be quite a thrilla in Abuja.  

  • Thinking and rethinking the constitution

    Thinking and rethinking the constitution

    • Tribute to Ben Nwabueze

    Constitution-making is the handmaiden of nation-building, and it is just as well that this column should begin with a tribute to Ben Nwabueze who passed recently at the ripe old age of ninety four. A nation without a healthy constitution is on life support machine. This is why, like friendship, a nation’s constitution must be kept in a state of constant repairs.

       Ever since the First Republic, Nwabueze has been the star of our constant constitutional curfews as well as their leading and misleading light.  Yours sincerely is an ardent intellectual fan of the late legal titan but not his political admirer. Nwabueze is one of those great men you cannot ignore no matter your reservations about his constitutional flip-flopping and political aggravations.

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    Unarguably the nation’s foremost constitutional theorist and finest legal pundit, he was also one of its most conflicted and complicated statesmen. As an ancient Nigerian general famously noted of one of his colleagues, he was capable of good and evil in equal celerity. He was an intellectuals’ intellectual and a scholars’ scholar.

     No one who has ever put pen to paper will fail to be dazzled by the amazing fecundity of his mind and imagination, the sheer forensic brilliance of his argument, the dialectical rigour of his submission and the rousing aplomb and finesse with which they are put together. He was without any doubt a constitutional colossus and a renaissance man in every material particular.

    A non-church going Christian, it was said that in 2013, Nwabueze asked his maker for five more years to complete his earthly labour. It was like Oscar Wilde thanking God for the fact that he was an atheist. In the event, Nwabueze was granted a renewal lease of a whopping decade. Let the great man now depart in peace.

  • Biko Nyesom, ankali da kare

    Biko Nyesom, ankali da kare

    In the traditional northern homestead in Nigeria where the protection of womenfolk in purdah from pariahs and predators alike takes a cultural priority, there is always a clear signboard forbidding entrance.

    Ba shiga, the signboard proclaims to potential intruders, meaning do not enter. If the household harbours a particularly nasty canine, there is another signboard warning the trespasser to beware. Ankali da kare or beware of dogs. Dogs are not trained to be nice to heedless intruders.

      Rivers State is on the boil again. And whenever there is this kind of executive rumpus in the state of a thousand rivulets, let the rest of the country be on anarchy watch. To start with, they do not do things in half measures down there. The state house of assembly complex has already gone up in smoke.

    The governor has narrowly escaped being seen off. The immediate past governor has been danger-listed by concerned citizens. It is not a battle for political stability or economic development. It is a clash of titanic egos driven by wild unregulated self-conceit that can never be sublimated for public good or national order. This is the tragedy of postcolonial politics in Africa.

     It is not known whether Nyesom Wike, the current minister of the Federal Capital Authority, immediate past governor of Rivers State and –as some would insist—the de facto third term governor of the state, is trained to read political signboards or savvy enough to decode horoscopes of impending disaster. One thing is clear. The fascination of a moth with fireballs always leads to self-immolation.

       “You will like Richard Nixon. He is so square”. So went a billboard of the late fifties in the bible-thumping American mid-region. Richard Milhous Nixon was widely admired and very well-liked. He was clean-shaven, crew-cut, conservatively tailored and quietly brainy. He was vice-president to Dwight Eisenhower.

       The sky seemed to be the limit. There was no hint yet of the nervous insecurities and the pathological need for risk-taking which would later bring him crashing to the ground at the very pinnacle of power. But as they say, what a child loves to eat should not be the cause of gastronomic disorder.

       The very daring and breathtaking political criminalities which would propel him to the top also ensured that he eventually came a sad cropper. As he himself would say when it was all over: “Only those who have been at the top of the mountain could appreciate what it is to be at the bottom of the valley”.

      But that was another country. And another era. Not many people will like or appreciate Nyesom Wike. There is something grating and grinding about a personality that elevates pugnacity to a political art. His tongue can be waspish and needlessly nettling.

      Many victims of his political barbs are still reeling from their verbal evisceration. People of a tame and temperate temperament have found his perpetual gallivanting, his grandstanding and garrulity deeply offensive.

      But you must give something to the feisty Nkwerre man. By sheer force of personality and from being a virtually unknown person at the beginning of the post-military republic, he has propelled himself to the zenith of national politics. On his way to superstardom, he has decked many better fancied opponents and collected the scalp of more famous political adversaries.

       When President Tinubu made him the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, many were outraged by what they thought was a politically incorrect gambit of monumental proportions. But Tinubu’s capacity for daring political offensives and appetite for strategic foraging in the hinterland of prejudice and animosities remain at a high potency.

       It is now history that Wike hit the ground running, seizing Abuja by the scruff of the neck and lodging himself permanently in the country’s political imagination with his sheer irreverence and iconoclastic chutzpah. Even if you don’t like this man, you have to admire his guts, his stellar political bravery and his fierce loyalty to any cause he believes in.

       Let it not be said that this smacks of desperate political opportunism, for in politics, particularly postcolonial politics, the opportunist is the person who converts his opportunities.  As the Yoruba people will put it, if you see a man being pursued by dangerous masquerades and you do not help yourself to his pot of soup, when are you going to benefit from the generosity of ancestors?

      Despite his volcanic eruptions, his bluff and bluster and capacity for relentless political bullying, one suspects, and can sense, that Wike is at heart a friendly and kind-hearted person with a boyish joie de vivre who enjoys a drink and some hilarious pranks. He should try to be more cultivated restrained.

       This piece of advice may sound gratuitous and probably too late. The tragic irony of politics is the fact that it is the same qualities that propel a person to lofty heights that are often instrumental to their ultimate unravelling. 

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      A vibrant and politically ambitious person who has achieved significant successes in numerous battles against formidable foes will always be at the mercy of some inner voices asking him to go for it one more time. Only the wisest of people know when to resist such temptations. This is when irresistible urges to conquer and dominate collide with the impregnable fortress of resistance.

     In an extraordinary outburst, Wike has let it be known that he can demand for the entire budget of the state and for all the contracts to be awarded to him because he singlehandedly built the structure and the superstructure on which everything rests .That is politics, he was said to have added gratuitously.

     My brother, that is not politics.  In the lingo of postcolonial pillage and rapine, It is political warlordism and economic foreclosure of the state combined. The idea of a gubernatorial overlord overseeing the affairs of a state he has willingly relinquished through direct and remote control is an offshoot of the viceroy system. In a politically cohesive and homogeneous state with the same outlook, this has proved impossible, unless the feudal shogun stays put.

      In a volatile and combustible state like Rivers full of mutually antagonistic sub-nationals only recuperating from the last conflict, it is a recipe for disaster. This is even more so when and where the warring protagonists belong to two ethnic groups with a history of tension and mutual distrust.

       It is a pity that things have come to this sorry pass between two men who collaborated very well in ensuring a smooth transition and transfer of power in Rivers State. Everything went well initially. Nyesom Wike, in anointing his successor, seemed to have reached for a manual of lackeys and lickspittles. Governor Siminilayi Fubara, placid and mild-mannered as he is docile-looking and dovish in appearance, seemed to have been a perfect foil for his implacably belligerent and abrasive benefactor.

     But there is only so much humiliation and harassment even the most peaceful of men could take, particularly after being invested with the mantle of power and authority. The insults so freely dispensed, the unwarranted putdown, the lavish rebuke and the bitter resentments at being treated like a houseboy might have flooded through the retraining wall of rectitude.

      As it has been amply demonstrated in this Fourth Republic, political subalterns who take over the helm of affairs from their former commanders have proved themselves to be masters of clinical execution, often leaving their former bosses without any chance of political resurrection.

     Going by the flak Wike’s political misjudgment has drawn across party and state lines from fire-spitting Ijaw luminaries and the widespread protests over the inept attempt to remove Fubara, it is clear who has the political momentum on his side. Despite his official protestations of peace and harmony, it is only a question of time before Fubara pulls the trigger.

      In a period of massive geopolitical shifts across the country’s tectonic plates, Wike ought to have been more circumspect and adept at political husbandry rather than causing disruptions in his own base. This is where uncommon political bravery when not tempered by wisdom and discretion becomes sheer recklessness.

      By raising the banner of battle, the former governor has not only imperiled his own political prospects, he has also endangered the delicate reapproachment quietly ongoing between the new hegemonic coalition at the centre and the Ijaw nationality. This is why those reading the game with more fastidious rigour inside Aso Rock are right in pulling him back in order to restore the status quo.

      In ending, we need to investigate why this phenomenon of bickering former comrades in arms and ammunition has become so rampart in the post-military polity.  To be sure the First and Second Republics were not without their fair share of the phenomenon as seen in the Awolowo/ Akintola split, the Azikiwe/Mbadiwe schism and the Ajasin/Omoboriowo imbroglio. But it was not this widespread.

      Some comparative statistics may be imperative. Taken together, the First and Second Republics lasted barely ten years, and there were far fewer sub-national administrations. The Fourth Republic has been on for twenty four years. Apart from the decline in ideological solidity and leadership recruitment process, we may well be witnessing the final working out of the militarization of politics and its attendant traumas. 

  • A rousing goodbye to a good ambassador

    A rousing goodbye to a good ambassador

    It is said that an ambassador is a person employed to lie about his country abroad. But there are times when an ambassador by his impeccable conduct in diplomatic conduits, his bureaucratic rigour, his administrative brilliance and record of exemplary personal integrity, projects the image of his country in a better and far more luminous manner than a thousand paid publicists and other slick state panegyrists.

      It has been fulsome praises and encomiums galore for His Excellency, Sarafa Tunji Isola, the recently departed Nigeria’s High Commissioner in Great Britain and envoy to the Court of St James. From the high and mighty, to the lowest and lowly of the metropolitan hoi polloi ; from the rarefied saloons of upper crust London to the pulsating and sweltering Nigerian eateries of Peckham and Lewisham, virtually everybody has something nice and appreciative to say about this quiet and unassuming fellow.

     It has been a whirlwind tour of duty for the former minister of state. Within a short time of taking over the embassy, he had restored fiscal order to the place and straightened its finances. Before then, it was a cesspit of corruption and malfeasance. Not a few officials were known to moonlight and gaslight at the same time.

        According to testimonies by many Nigerians in Great Britain, the envoy also grappled heroically with the issuance of passport, visa and travel certificates which had been taken over by a shadowy cabal fronting for shameless racketeers lurking in the system. The embassy had become a den of deadwood and die-hard swindlers to say the least.

    A courtesy visit to the High Commission in August in company of a younger friend and political associate revealed a man driven by a passion for hard work and an unrelenting drive for excellence. Unlike the rowdy apocalyptic scenes of the past which often spilled to adjoining streets eliciting quiet stares of civilized horror from outraged denizens, the place looked orderly and well-organized.

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      The ambassador was already at his desk. Respectably attired in smart business-compliant agbada, he cut a figure of contentment and competence. Wafting seamlessly in the background was the sweet melodious Sakara music of Yusuf Olatunji, aka Baba L’egba. Formerly known as Joseph Olatunji until a benefactor took him to Mecca, the Oke-Ogun born master crooner has remained a regular on the menu of Yoruba musical gourmets and traditional aristocracy for ages.

      The conversation began in earnest, but without much earnestness. Ambassadors at that level rarely give information away just like that. With his quiet, self-assured mien, our man in London was probing his visitors for give-away signs. His artful evasions and cagey reticence suggested training in the highest academy of diplomatic spooking. Since he was not known to be a career ambassador, yours sincerely decided to ask him the question directly.

      His response was a classic example of diplomatic gobbledygook and yours sincerely decided to let go. The hallmark of envoys at that sublime summit is their mental toughness and psychological stamina. In a deliberately casual and seemingly offhanded request, the ambassador had asked for one’s number. Now, as we made to take our leave, the envoy demanded for my residence address but not before letting it be known that he did not normally mix up with people he had nothing to learn from.

     Around nine the following morning, a sleek chauffeur-driven Mercedes Benz car pulled up at the hotel around London City Airport. Lo! It was the envoy. Yours sincerely had led him to the room where for the next ninety minutes, we engaged in a no-holds-barred discussion about the nation and some of the things that need to be done. Then he vanished as unobtrusively as he had appeared.

       Here is wishing the ambassador many more years of service to his fatherland.

  • Golda Meir saw it coming

    Golda Meir saw it coming

    Women are rarely given the credit for their superior political instincts and extraordinary gift for political clairvoyance. Angela Merkel, the immediate past German Chancellor, taught the world that a woman can perform extraordinary political stunts while remaining ordinary and unpretentious to boot.

      Much earlier, another visionary female leader gave the world a glimpse of what it means to provide uncommon leadership. The Americans had asked Golda Meir for an exchange of their best five generals. Covetous of the military excellence of the Israeli and the dominance they have achieved in the region within so short a time, the Americans quickly named two of the Israel’s most distinguished warlords, Moshe Dayan and Ariel Sharon, as top on their shopping list.

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      Whereupon Golda Meir retorted that Israel would have General Electric and General Motors. Aghast and terrified out of their wits, the Americans retreated. The great woman could see that far more than the exceptional quality of individual generals, it is material prosperity and technological superiority that determine who prevails on the battlefield. Man for man, Hamas has shown that its men are a match for the Israeli fighting machine. But it has all come to naught.

    Now that Israel by material might and technological heft has razed and pounded Gaza to ground, it should lead the rest of the world in nation-building in the Middle East, a task in which all the world’s leading powers have failed miserably. Golda Meir will chuckle at that one.    

  • Alienation and elite dissonance in post-military Nigeria

    Alienation and elite dissonance in post-military Nigeria

    Almost ten months after the conduct of presidential election in Nigeria, the fireworks over who actually won the election even after the apex has delivered its “final” verdict over the matter continue to ricochet across the polity. This degree of rancor and bitterness over an election is unprecedented in the history of Nigeria, and it says a lot about the lack of elite amity in the nation.

    When and where presidential elections are not based on clear-cut ideological contestation among the contending parties and where electoral disputes are not anchored on subsisting pacted negotiations among the various factions of the political elite, things normally degenerate into a duel onto death.

      Consider for example the situation in 1979 when those marvelous UPN legislative gurus quickly settled in, or 1999 when Chief Falae was prevailed upon to withdraw his case just to guarantee the survival of the Fourth Republic. This would have been unusual in the current climate of mutual hostility accompanied by widespread hysteria. The usual elite dispute about allocation of resources and who gets what and when has degenerated into a zero-sum game where nothing matters anymore.

     The lack of elite consensus affects not just the climate before election, the atmospherics of the elections themselves and post-election ability of the new government to hit the ground running. Enemy nationals abound in Nigeria, as this column consistently affirms.

     They make life impossible for themselves as well as for others. They weaken further the resolve of weak governments and turn the nation into an anarchic and ungovernable entity. Faced with the possibility of economic and political extinction, the violated multitude look forward to delivery at any cost even where it means a deus ex machina.

      This is why ordinary people even in so called advanced societies often wink or connive at the possibility or actual emergence of despotic messianic tyrants. It is the German Weimar Republic on postcolonial wheels and it is what led to the emergence of Hitler in Germany, Mussolini in Italy and General Frank Franco in bitterly divided Spain.

     Alienation from the state affects different sectors of the society in different ways. For the elite, it is a form of political and economic estrangement which can be negotiated at the shrine of booty sharing euphemistically called resource control. But when it is extended to the ordinary mass of the people, it is accompanied by a complete spiritual emasculation which leads to total severance from reality.

     More often than not, alienation of the general mass of the people from the state is so severe, the defamiliarization of the familiar so aggravating, that the victim suffers a complete severance from the notions and nature of the nation as it is constituted or habitable. The victim is so decoupled from the realities of national existence that he becomes a complete alien or a total stranger to his nation.

       Alienation is often more pronounced in multi-ethnic, multi-cultural and multi-religious nations. The contradictions are so palpable and gripping that they alter normal perception and turn the average individual into an enemy national who hates everything about his country. When and where such passive, sullen hostility turns into an active confrontation with the state and its lawful agents or heralds unrelenting destabilization, the ruling class must be on Tsunami watch.

      Fortuitously for Nigeria and many other postcolonial societies in Africa, elite yearnings for fundamental changes do not often equate to calls for the dismemberment of the nation even when some of the demands for change are couched in such volatile rhetoric. The political elite appear to be more interested in the overthrow and dismantling of the old hegemonic order.

    But as observable on the actual field of play and contrary to the myth of elite consensus, what is often required in fractious, ethnically polarized polities is not complete elite consensus which is an impossibility given the structure and configuration of such societies but substantial compliance which allows the dominant ruling group to drive through fundamental political and economic reforms that open the society to egalitarian transformation.

       Given the civil war experience and its lingering trauma, Nigerian political elite, except when they face the grave threat of being toppled from below by the rampaging mob of the disaffected and the furious hoi -polloi , are usually very wary of the rhetoric of dismemberment. The two extant attempts at mounting a full scale rebellion against the Nigerian state ended in dismal and desultory tragedies.

       In the case of Isaac Adaka Boro, eighteen months after his rag tag band of riverine rebels was put to rout by General Aguiyi-Ironsi , he was already donning the uniform of a Nigerian Army major when he was shot and killed by a lone Biafran soldier hiding in a disused shed around Bonny.

       Thereafter, his people nailed their flag to the hegemonic mast of northern political forces. In the case of Col Odumegwu-Ojukwu, thirteen years after fleeing Nigeria, he came back as a political agent of the same feudal bastion he had led his people against in a bloody campaign which devastated the old eastern region. All that was fiercely adamant and politically solid melted into thin air.

      Those who know the true character and ideological brittleness of the Nigerian political class and its capacity for healthy and unhealthy compromises often betray a strange equanimity and unflappable composure in moments of grave national crisis which can be quite confounding to agitated onlookers and political neophytes alike.

       In the wake of the tragic annulment of the June 12, 1993 presidential election and the ensuing national uproar, Dr Ibrahim Tahir, the late Talban Bauchi and Cambridge-trained conservative scholar to boot, cautioned those from the South West threatening fire and brimstone and the eventual dismemberment of the nation should the annulment subsist not to confuse their platform position with realpolitik. For good measure, the sharp-tongued, roly-poly intellectual dismissed the agitators as Oduduwa warmongers.

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      Many of us, this writer included, felt so outraged by this blithe and blatant putdown that we concluded that the remarkable writer and maverick author of The Last Imam had finally succumbed to the excesses of his sybaritic self-indulgences. By platform position, he meant hard public posturing taken as the take off point for hard bargaining and concession-wringing.

    It was also around this time that Alhaji Abubakar Rimi, fiery ideologue and former governor of the old Kano State, famously declared that he was not in politics because of MKO Abiola.  Rimi’s comeuppance would come later as the equally wily and punitively proactive General Olusegun Obasanjo refused to make him Foreign Minister, plumping instead for the less fancied but equally ideologically unstable Sule Lamido.

      In an earlier nasty spat with Lamido, Chief James Ajibola Idowu Ige let it be known that he did not suffer fools gladly. Both men ended up as full ministers in Obasanjo’s cabinet. The point to note is that after almost five years of low intensity warfare, a consensus was cobbled out in which the north conceded the presidency to the South. That was after the death of both Abiola and General Abacha. It was a deal that required substantial elite compliance, despite a sizeable number of naysayers.

     It is to be noted that during the NADECO insurrection against the Nigerian military state, not for once did its Yoruba-dominated leadership advocate secession or the break-up of Nigeria. Dismemberment of the nation was not on the menu.

      Bola Ige, widely demonized in the northern press as a Yoruba supremacist in the Rwandan Hutu framework, saw himself as a Nigerian leader of Yoruba extraction waiting in the wing rather than as a ruler of a Yoruba secessionist enclave. Not for once did he advocate for the dissolution of the nation.                                                        

      In his widely read column in the Nigerian Tribune on Sunday, the fiery orator consistently declaimed that rather than advocate the breakup of the country, he longed to see the day when the shoe would be on the other foot for the hegemonic rulers who had held Nigeria to ransom since independence. That dawn of a new awareness produced a hybrid patchwork which left the man known as Cicero of Esa-Oke politically stranded and estranged from his colleagues.

      The political dissonance and elite disharmony turned Ige into a victim and prime casualty of elite pacting. People fight for a particular ideal only to find that what they had fought for was not what came to be. Rather than rule as a Yoruba hegemonist, Obasanjo ruled like a pan-Nigerian nationalist. Widely admired for his sharp intellect and organizational acumen, the former governor of Oyo State was equally resented for his nettling tongue and abrading candour.

      After a losing bid to become the presidential flag-bearer of his party, Ige teamed up with Obasanjo in a daring strategic gambit which split both his party and its cultural organization down the line. Neither fully recovered. But the die was cast for the sizzling and scintillating orator. An attempt to return to base proved a bridge too far. Ige was bumped off because the disruptive possibilities of his return to his political precincts were simply too enormous to bear for the new order and its orderlies.

      The past twenty four years have proved that in a fragile polity and multi-ethnic nation seething with rancor and mutual hostilities, elite consensus is never a done deal. It requires constant nurturing and constant repairs. Obasanjo himself was almost surprised around the corner by his deputy who became his mortal adversary. His attempt at tenure elongation met with a resounding shellacking which struck deep at the foundation of the post-military polity.

       The travails of Umaru Yar’Adua whom Obasanjo had imposed on the nation by fire and by force are quite instructive, particularly after the Katsina nobleman became hobbled and enfeebled by terminal illness. While the conservative phalanx rallied and railed at the prospects of being shortchanged, it required a doctrine of necessity to impose Jonathan on the polity. Five years later, the Ijaw man from Opia became toast when he attempted to overstay his welcome.

       The current conjuncture is equally rich in superb ironies. Only those with their historical binoculars misplaced or mislaid will call it the dawn of a new order of ethnic exceptionalism.  While the bold administrative reforms and the restructuring at the level of personnel have met with rapturous approval, many are also of the opinion that the brutal rightwing social engineering and neoliberal economic fundamentalism of the Bretton Woods institution is anathema to Awolowo’s socialist welfarism and the progressive egalitarian politics of the Yoruba people.

         It will be a monumental irony if the Yoruba, the most urbanized ethnic group and their seething cities become the first people to chafe and publicly take umbrage at their own stellar son. But if care is not taken, the disaffection and dehumanization of ordinary people may tip the scale in the direction of anarchy and generalized chaos.

      This is usually the playground of the mob and the graveyard of elite consensus. The post-Buhari polity with its fragile elite consensus and many enemy nationals trying to engineer the fiscal collapse of the country by putting undue pressure on the naira must be wary of the next few months.

    Now that the road is clear of electoral disputes, pressure will mount on the Tinubu administration to deal with the economic miscreants who have brought us to this sorry pass. It will no longer be possible to look the other way as tales of deliberate economic adversity against the nation escalate.

      As the inevitable reforms threaten the middle class with obliteration and the masses with pure extinction such as they have never known before, a way must be found not to give the impression that the government has sided with the tormentors of the people. One way of the doing this is to strengthen an agency like the EFCC in its offensive and crime-preventing capacity.

      The other is to make sure that all the outstanding cases of economic crimes against the nation are pursued with vigour and integrity. If the truth must be told, the crime fighting agencies have come to a sorry pass. The president should immediately constitute an Economic Advisory Council with the capacity to think out of the box and avail him of countervailing notions of economic growth and development.

     In ending, let us remind the framers of the new economic doctrine that no fractious, multi-ethnic and multi-religious nation has ever survived the kind of bitter economic pills advocated for Nigeria by the IMF and the Bretton Wood institutions. Something always gives in the end. Let it not be said that we have pulled economic defeat out of the jaws of political victory.

  • On the Israeli-Arab Conflict

    On the Israeli-Arab Conflict

    Apocalypse in Gaza

    The civilized world is benumbed by the horrific carnage and the scale of wanton destruction going on in the Gaza Strip. The conflict, a byproduct of colonial haymaking without much altruistic vision or social intelligence, has created a violent conundrum for the civilized world which should now concentrate the mind of those who care about what it means to be human.

     For one, this conflict has been going on in one form or the other and one historical template and another for far too long, stretching beyond recorded history to mythical times. Second is the fact that if care is not taken, the conflict this time around may lead to a nuclear conflagration the like of which has not been seen in human history.

      Human conflicts, at their most bloody and aggravating, are terrible to behold and to experience. They exact a severe toll on the human psyche, leaving many marred for life. But they are an integral part of the human condition. They set the template for future advances. Out of the rubble of human destruction arise new edifices of civilization if humanity will learn new lessons.

      As the rest of humanity recoil in horror at the apocalyptic terror and mass entombment unfurling in Gaza Strip, it is even clearer as Walter Benjamin avers that there is no record of civilization which is not at the same time a record of barbarity.

      Benjamin was a disruptive philosopher of the human condition who met a gruesome end at the French-German border as Hitler bared his fangs in September, 1940. Of Jewish extraction, he chose to take his own life rather than being forced back to Germany to face definite death. Now, eighty three years after, the shoe is on the other foot and it is the persecuted Jews who are delivering the killer blows.

    At its most sophisticated and devious summit, there is no difference between political artistry and global gaming on the one hand and certified sociopathy on the other. As flies are to wanton boys, so are we to the new political gods of humanity. They kill us for their sports, to appropriate the bard of Stratford -on- Avon.

       The pool is now so murky and bloodied that one is now longer sure whether the strike on the Gaza hospital was from an Israeli rocket or a rogue Hamas unit trying to prevent a greater Israeli inferno by setting off its own “small fire”.

       Whatever it is, unless the rest of the human race, irrespective of religion, race, creed, ideology and nation, come together to say a collective no to this brutish savagery, this creeping animalization of humanity, the world may be walking wide-eyed to a new global conflict which has never been seen before in its asymmetrical barbarities and sheer horrific butchery.

        The human race has never walked this path before. We are in totally uncharted territory. With murderous conflicts brewing simultaneously in many parts of the world, with the nation-state paradigm itself frazzled and showing signs of having exhausted its political and historical possibilities, it will take only an exhausted despot in Tel Aviv, Pyongyang, Teheran, Islamabad or in Washington to lit the fuse of a nuclear holocaust which will put paid to civilization as we know it.

      It is possible that a new civilization will arise from the ashes of horrendous devastations. But it is also possible that there will be no come-back kid this time around. The dire consequences might be too overwhelming. It is known that the casualties from subsequent nuclear irradiation from the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki outstrip death from actual bombing. Till date, there are people believed to be suffering from the fallout of the Covid-19 incubus.

      It is said by those who should know that the dreaded pandemic was itself the consequences of virus-harvesting for offensive purposes that went awry. When Claude Levi-Strauss, the great French Structuralist anthropologist, noted tersely that the world began without the human race and will end without it, many thought he was being unduly despondent.

      But whenever anybody drew his attention to the fact that the human race was simply too big to fail, Sigismund Freud, the great Jewish-German psychoanalyst, always pointed at the dinosaurs and their horrid fate. It was simply a case of too big to survive.

       It is difficult to believe that the Americans, with their various listening posts in the Middle East, were blissfully unaware that something big was brewing in the Gaza Strip and its Hamas-saturated denizens. There is ample evidence that Egyptian intelligence alerted the Tel Aviv authorities of unusual restiveness within the Hamas group. But in all likelihood, the Israeli military saw in this an opportunity for a massive sucker punch or even a Final Solution to the heedless and troublesome Arabs.                                                     

      There are echoes of the Pearl Harbour decoy when it would appear that the Americans deliberately encouraged the Japanese to attack their lonely outpost in the Pacific so that an end can be put to Japanese militarism and imperialist fantasies. Way back during the First World War, it is alleged that British submarines were painted in German colours to attack American vessels in order to encourage the Americans to join the war efforts.

      America duly did and the Germans suffered a catastrophic drubbing. The resulting Treaty of Versailles humiliated the Germans so much that it set the stage for a return match which eventuated in the first deployment of nuclear weapon in the history of humanity.  

       Back to the conflict at hand, what is the civilized world to do about the Arabs and their Israeli cousins, two gifted and testy races who have affected the course of human civilization in a profound manner and who have bequeathed to the modern world either directly or by transformative derivation its two most successful but combustible religions?

      Certainly not by the kind of rabid partisanship that has erupted in many capitals all over the world, urging the combatants to duel on to death. The kind of mayhem and murder that we have witnessed in the Gaza Strip is a weighty reproach and rebuke to humanity and the pretensions to being on a higher scale of evolution. It questions our right to rationality and superior reason. Not even animals slaughter themselves on such a scale and scope. They will never acquire the capacity in the first instance.

       Neither is the resort to primitive identity politics and amoral confraternity so beloved by the west and its principal leadership which allows them to overlook and quietly condone Israel’s hubristic excesses in the pursuit of its right to self-determination. It is obvious that the west is still haunted by the debt of atavistic obligation to the Israeli people after centuries of persecution which culminated in Hitler’s genocide.

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      That debt was substantially redeemed by the forcible resettlement of the Jewish race in a place they left over two thousand years ago. The forcibly displaced also have a right to continued existence. In the imperialist manual of peaceful coexistence among conquered and subdued races, order is superior to justice.

       The doctrine of a master-nationality has been replicated on a larger scale. In a Middle East bristling with disorder and chaos after the collapse of the Ottoman Empire just get a master race to impose order and rationality and let the natives get on with it. A few heads will be broken and that is that. They will calm down. It is post-empire imperialism by whatever name.

      But judging from the current apocalypse on the Gaza Strip, it is obvious that it will not work. In Shakespeare’s famous Merchant of Venice, Shylock the Jew, demanded to know what made his race so different and inferior to the master-race. If you hit them, do they not cry, and if you wound them, do they not bleed?

       Centuries after, it is the Arabs who are demanding an answer to the selfsame questions from the descendants of Shylock. Their shrill cries are been heard all over the world. Arab women are wailing over the dismembered remains of their children. Voices were heard all over Gaza this past week, it is not the voice of the biblical Rachael but of Arab women wailing over their children because they were no more.

      The west and Israel must put on their thinking cap once again, or hope for the advent of visionary leaders who must think through the millennial impasse in the Middle East. The dual-state solution was a classic fudge. It was dead on arrival. In the meantime, let Gaza Strip become a UN Protectorate with authority vested in moderate and forward-looking Palestinians.

      African nations must learn the correct lessons from this tragic entanglement. It will not do to just file blindly behind the combatants without reason or rhyme. Suffering ennobles and brings the most unusually insightful perspective to human tragedy. As the most persecuted race on earth, Black people have the most developed capacity to bring a fresh perspective to the evolving world order.

       The example of a leading Nigerian cleric urging Israel on and asking the people of Israel to bring more results from the battlefield is the most startling instance of spiritual retardation ever witnessed in post-colonial Africa. Africans have nothing to gain from this syrupy self-abasement.

       Neither the Jews nor Arabs care very much about Black people. There is documented evidence that Israel and the Arab nations hold their minority African populace in extreme contempt and utter disregard. You cannot blame them. Until Africans learn to lift themselves up by their own God-given ontological ballast, that will be the fate reserved for them.

       Sweet indeed are the uses of adversity, if the correct lesson can be learnt. Israel has taught the modern world a memorable lesson, that it is possible to create a powerful and prosperous modern nation from scratch and from nothing, using nothing but prodigious mental endowment, fierce national discipline and militant self-belief. Having done that, the nation of Golda Meir should now lead in the search for peace and a new world order, hubris and the Masada Complex permitting.

  • The Grass cutter is not cutting grass

    The Grass cutter is not cutting grass

    Why is the grass cutter not cutting grass? At least this is what those in correctional facilities are supposed to do. This is what is meant by being sentenced with hard labour. But we live in a world of semantic somersault and elaborate assault on reality. The sentence may well be past tense. Hard labour may just mean the exact opposite: self-indulgent pleasure and national security nightmare.

    Otherwise, how does a man whose trial for corrupt self-enrichment and sundry malfeasance ought to have been long concluded and who ought to be doing time in jail find time to constitute himself to a national nuisance and a grave threat to security? Having gone to grass for some time after the political debacle that met his high-profile whoring and serial infidelity, the grass cutter from the plains of Adamawa has decided to stir things up once again.

    Oh dear, dear, judging from the sledgehammer response of the APC publicity machine to the latest diatribe and offensive personal slurs from David Babachir Lawal, the former Secretary to Federal Government and ranking party insider until his exit from government and party in untidy and controversial circumstances, it is clear that the current APC hierarchs will no longer take his contumely lying low and soaking it up with the indulgence reserved for political prodigals.

    Let us cut to the chase. This is nothing personal. It is an attempt to help Babachir redeem his honour and regain his political bearing, if that is still possible. In the early heady day of the Buhari administration, this writer asked a top ranking leader of the APC who on earth was the David Babachir Lawal who had just been appointed the Secretary to the Government. “Ah, he is our man, and a very loyal and dependable ally at that”, the person responded.

    But not long afterwards, the bottom fell off the cooking jar and the centre could no longer hold. In fairness to him, Babachir took his dismissal in the chin, despite its controversial and cloudy circumstances only permitting himself to ask the question about what the fabled presidency was all about when the agents of defenestration arrived to demand for his scalp.

    Thereafter, the Socratic equanimity seemed to have deserted him yielding to wild intemperate outbursts, irrational tantrums, sinister gaming with his party’s choice of presidential candidate and an outright attempt to destabilize the political process through fanning  the embers of ethnic and religious discord in an already dangerously polarized polity.

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       To be sure, the dark furies of resentment fuelling Lawal’s misgivings and which have turned the poor fellow into a seething volcano of political malediction is not without some logic or justification. He was certainly not the most corrupt member of the Buhari administration. To have singled him out for judicial retribution smacked of favouritism and double-dealing.

     But everybody knows that the general from Daura has his strange ways and is not above ethnic and religious fiddling where sensitive national issues are concerned. Being aware of his status as an endangered species, Lawal ought to have  conducted himself with exemplary integrity and be like Caesar’s wife.

    Lawal’s subsequent conduct out of office shows that he lacks the moral and constitutional fibre as well as the statesmanlike rectitude expected of the holder of one of the highest offices in the land. The fact that he has escaped justice so far shows that at least he remains a beneficiary of that wider solidarity in aberration which is the prerogative of all endangered ruling classes.

    His latest political gambit, which is to openly question the validity and legitimacy of the last presidential election just as the process is about to reach its judicial completion shows just how far gone in political perfidy and treachery the Adamawa-born politician has become and how much lower he has sunken in self-esteem. His political obituary will not be more underwhelming.

  • Obituary as malignant fiction

    Obituary as malignant fiction

    We live in very controversial and interesting times, and in the age of malevolent obsequies. Three and a half years ago as the toll from the Covid-19 incubus threatened to overwhelm humanity, this column published a piece titled, The Death of Obituary. At that point, the casualty list from the dreaded pandemic was becoming prohibitive.

     Such was the avalanche of the fallen that yours sincerely decided that announcing the exit of luminaries was no longer a viable preoccupation. The art of obituary was itself mortally imperiled. It had become a punitive act of self-flagellation. Let the dead herald the death of the dead.

      Nobody would have thought that within such a short period, obituary would face an equally grave threat from a different direction. But in Nigeria, the implausible is only a short step away from the imponderable.  Last week, the ubiquitous and highly toxic fake news industry in Nigeria grossed another distinguished scalp. It added General General Yakubu Gowon to its malignant menu.

    Site after site in the capillary network of malice and mischief began breaking the news that Nigeria’s war time leader and one of the most refined and humane officers to ever don the uniform of the Nigerian military was no more. The gentle warrior with the mien of an unflappable and imperturbable missionary had journeyed across the void of human existence.

     There was an element of plausibility to the story. Although the robust and stocky general is not known to suffer any major ailment or affliction, he has been blessed with a long life and at the ripe old age of eighty nine, it would be stretching luck too far not to expect a sudden eventuality in that direction.

    Moreover, despite national accolades and international plaudits, Gowon has led an intensely private life, shielding himself and family from hostile public scrutiny, particularly after his ouster in 1975 by junior colleagues who felt he had exhausted his possibility and was leading the country in the wrong direction.

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    While still trying to make sense of the breaking story, dusk had descended fast and to reinforce the pervading sense of siege an awful darkness descended on the place in the absence of electricity. In the meantime, a chat group of respected elders that one belongs to also joined the funereal orchestration. It was looking as if Good Old Jack might be gone for good.

    In the event, one was left with no alternative than to start composing an obituary for General Yakubu Gowon in the frightening stillness of lightlessness while waiting for daybreak to rejoin the march of civilization. Luckily, the mind still availed us the grist of a decade and a half year old tribute the columnist wrote in honour of the remarkable soldier.

      Titled Jack is not the Ripper, the essay argued that whatever General Gowon’s inherent failings and weaknesses, he could not be counted among the predators, civilian and military alike, who brought Nigeria to its knees. In the absence of new evidence to the contrary, that opinion still stands.

      The habit of secretly penning obituaries ahead of the passing of great and exceptional individuals is consistent with the best practice in the profession. When it actually comes to pass, all the obituarist needs to do is to cross out and add a few paragraphs while dotting the “i” and crossing the “t” here and there. But it is fraught with its own unique perils.

    A major London newspaper is a past master of this surreal sub-genre often enlisting several ghost obituarists to shadow and monitor the progress of pilgrims towards their terminal terminus. The snag is when the obituaree manages to survive his obtuarist.  A shuffling of the cards—and the cads, is mandatory. Snooper knows of at least three African leaders who have survived several prospective obituarists and still counting.

    At the last count, none of the literary necromancers headhunted for the job took up the offer. They might have concluded that it may well be the equivalent of a death sentence. The autumn of the African patriarch remains the autumn of the African patriarch never to be forejudged or forecast by literary dabblers and sundry dilettantes.

    It is alleged by those who should know that some African potentates actually fake their own death as a bizarre ritual of longevity. Announcing their death becomes a double jeopardy; a talisman for abridged and abbreviated existence.

     On a scale of national perplexity nothing perhaps could surpass the infamous obituary of the great Owelle on prime time television while the old man himself was watching in blissful calm with Uche, his wife. At the tail end, Zik was said to have cottoned in on the announcer wishing him eternal repose and peaceful transition to the abode of his ancestors.

    It was that said that the old man became so distraught that he needed repeated assurances from his wife that all was well and that he was still very much alive. Zik, an intensely cerebral fellow, would have thought that all the assurances from his wife were in vain and within the realistic realm of posthumous gallivanting.

    The situation was hardly helped when one of Zik’s jaded disciples was dredged up on national television to confirm the great man’s incontrovertible departure. To boot, the man insisted that before the Owelle breathed his last, he had passed on the mantle of Igbo leadership to him asking him to lead his people to the Promised Land.

      But the former prize fighter and celebrated pugilist of magnificent physical endowment rallied. All those who were part of the plot to sentence him to premature extinction predeceased him by a healthy distance.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

     By last Tuesday morning, the purported death of General Yakubu Gowon had turned out to be a damp squib. No newspaper carried the story. No major site pursued the trail. The furious winds of modern communication that blow the virus of fake news also carry in their womb the benign germs of retrieval and rectification.

    A selfie of Gowon, in customary good health and puckish humour, appeared as he watched his grandson playing football somewhere in England. Later in the day, the general himself issued a statement that he was alive and in very good health.

    Due diligence and customary commonsense would have helped to avert the damning howler. It turned out that the person who actually passed on was a much younger but no less distinguished professor whose first name coincided with the surname of the general. No retraction or self-rectification ever came from the malignant sites. As far as the putrid purveyors are concerned, they are in a state of war against their fatherland and General Gowon can kick the bucket if he likes.

    This is the state of siege in which the nation has found itself with enemy nationals on the rise. The fake news phenomenon is merely a symptom of something more radically fundamental; a short-hand for an all-encompassing crisis of the postcolonial state; a malignant fabrication and deadly repudiation of the repugnant reality as they see it before them. The status quo will not go away merely because of their fabrications. But neither will they before they tip all of us into a state of anarchy.

     The current status quo may not be perfect or ideal. But it provides us with the best opportunity for a re-imagining of the nation. People do not cherish what they have until they have lost it through their own egregious foolhardiness. Under livable peace, humans seek unlivable strife until the horrors force them to seek a return to livable peace. It is the way of desperate humanity. And we have been here before. General Gowon can testify to that. It is not yet his obituary; neither is it the obituary of the nation.