Category: Tatalo Alamu

By Tatalo Alamu 

Grandstanding is an integral part of politics. In order to outflank and outmanoeuvre themselves, politicians sometimes resort to gutter tactics and the most reprehensible and deplorable of conduct. This comes with the territory. It is a blood sports, nor for the squeamish or the fainthearted. A lion is known to stake out its territory with its foul and most offensive urinal outpouring.

Aristotles defined humans by nature as political animals. Every human society is suffused and permeated with politics. But there comes a time when politics takes over everything in a society to the exclusion and detriment of every other thing. The more over-politicised a society is the more underdeveloped it turns out to be.

This is politics as the antithesis of statecraft and the very opposite of everything fine and noble about evolving humankind. It is politics as a toxic pollutant which infects and poisons everything it comes into contact with. Whenever a society gets to this point, there is an urgent need for detoxification or de-politicisation as the case may be.

In order to mask or obscure their real mission of power without responsibility, the Nigerian political class play politics with everything, including matters most critical to the health and continued survival of the nation as a corporate entity. This is usually the signpost of a failed political class hibernating inside a failing nation.

Who on earth would have thought that of all the existential and developmental issues currently facing the nation it is the issue of zoning and unzoning  that would most bestir both the dominant and the dominated factions of the political class and work them into an uncommon froth? But here we are with the bugle of war sounding everywhere about the bugaboo called zoning.

But you must give something to the hegemonic faction of the ruling class. After decades of political predation and despite its glaring failure as a developmental elite, it knows exactly where to put the subordinated classes and the masses together while applying the torture whiplash. Last week this column sounded the warning that succession politics is back on the front burner despite the monumental problems facing the nation and the inability of the ruling clique to make a serious dent on these.

Exactly twenty four hours after this, the Northern Governors’ Forum struck. In a widely reported communiqué read by Governor Simon Lalong, spokesperson of the august body, the forum pooh-poohed the idea of zoning claiming that the concept was strange to the constitution.

Read Also: Northern governors and zoning 

To drive home its point, the forum insisted that when the time comes, nobody can stop any presidential candidate from the north from contesting and that such a northern star is likely to win the election because the north has the number to prevail in an electoral showdown with the rest of the country.

This was following on the heels of a widely circulated diatribe against a section of the country by Hakeem Baba-Ahmed, the spokesperson of the Northern Elders Forum. Having risen to the top position in the federal bureaucracy and having found himself on some sensitive national assignments thereafter, one would have expected Baba-Ahmed to be more circumspect in his vituperations and vainglorious shibboleths about a putative electoral majority. It was a classic example of how not to be a responsible citizen of any nation.

If this is the true position of the “north” and not a bargaining chip or calculated ploy to negotiate for a soft landing for a power-obsessed elite after what is widely considered the most disastrous outing in the annals of postcolonial governance in Nigeria, then it simply means that the Obasanjo Settlement of 1999 has reached the end of the road and, by logical extension, the Fourth Republic it is supposed to undergird and underwrite.

Cobbled together by people who were aghast at the country’s lurch towards disintegration after the tragic annulment of the June 12, 1993 presidential election and the death in solitary confinement of its presumed winner, it was designed to foster a sense of belonging and inclusiveness among all Nigerians and to forestall a situation in which one section of the country is widely perceived as lording it over the others.

Although not enshrined in the constitution, this memorable instance of consociational politics and elite pacting in a bitterly polarized multi-ethnic and multi-cultural nation was to prove more important than the constitution in bridging the gap of ethnicity, region and religion as the Fourth Republic got underway.

Those political recalcitrants who insisted on their constitutional rights to contest were quickly shunted aside, subsequently shunned or ignored. It was the power of the unwritten pact triumphing over written tracts. In 2003, General Mohammadu Buhari himself was to run afoul of this elite consensus having decided to join electoral battle with his former Commander- in-chief. It ended in tears and recrimination. History was to repeat itself in 2011, this time with violence and wanton destruction in the north.

In the political drama that led to the emergence of Obasanjo, the same political force majeure was at hand when it came to which region to vote for. Although it was widely believed that the former vice president, Alex Ekwueme, was the front runner in the presidential sweepstakes of the new association, he was briskly overwhelmed at the finishing line by military acolytes working behind the scene to ensure victory for their former commander.

It ought to be recalled that Obasanjo himself was hardly the choice of his people, having been fingered as an agent of the dominant establishment. But once the power brokers had spoken, this became a matter of regional disputation about choice rather than a national predicament. Despite widespread sulking and misgivings in the west, it was the pan-national coalition that prevailed.

It is also instructive to note that throughout his two-term tenure and despite the rumoured  elongation bid, there was no doubt at all about which section of the country Obasanjo was going to hand over power to. As a matter of fact had there not been the unfortunate rupture between him and his former deputy, there is every reason to believe that the transmission and transfer of power would have been smoother and more seamless.

The thing about unwritten agreements is that they have a way of burning and insinuating their way into human consciousness and national memory where they solidify as part of the established convention. They cannot be unilaterally repealed by one side without the other vigorously reacting. Consequently, it is an invitation to return to the status quo ante bellum in circumstances of anarchy and mayhem.

This open tender for disintegration is one the country can ill-afford given its current dire circumstances. It has been a long journey from 1999. The mood is frayed and tempers are more brittle. The National Question is compounded. Many are now echoing General Gowon’s opening speech at the very end of July 1966 that the basis for Nigerian unity is no longer there. For good measure, Gowon went on to remind rampaging northerners to take solace in the fact that one of them was back in power.

Politicians should learn to take a cue from historical developments. If the violent reactions in some parts of the country to the constitutional infractions and serial breach of national character in the last six years are anything to go by, we can be sure that post-zoning Nigeria is going to be an anarchic war-zone full of fear and trembling.

It is said among the Yoruba that nobody must stop a young child from climbing the hill of Langbodo. Given their relative age, members of the Northern Governors’ Forum were probably too young or politically callow to appreciate the arduous painstaking process, the personal sacrifices and the politics of abstemious self-denial that went into the making of the zoning formula.

They should consult their surviving elders and statesmen. The whole thing might have degenerated into an open bazaar of self-enrichment and self-recruitment nowadays, but we cannot afford to throw away the baby with the bath water.

No edifice can stand for all time and for all purposes. What the zoning formula needs is reform and further refinement. This must go hand in hand with a constitutional amendment which limits presidential term to a single six year tenure.

With the prospects of a lame duck presidency already starring us in the face just as it happened with Obasanjo who spent the last two years of his presidency in a ferocious dog-fight with his deputy, it should be obvious that six years are enough for anybody to register and achieve their mission unless there is a scary nation-threatening emergency.

In a remarkable walk-back, Nasir el-Rufai, the feisty and tempestuous governor of Kaduna State, has stated that while the northern establishment was not against power shift, what it abhors is the minatory language of entitlement by southern leaders when the watchword should be negotiation and horse trading.

The question is, negotiating about what and for what? In this miasma of clarification as obfuscation, what el-Rufai may be hinting at is that the entire clause of zoning ought to be renegotiated and redefined.

If that is the case, then it cannot stop at zoning which is nothing but an elite pact for the shuffling and reshuffling of personnel to foster a sense of elite belonging and political inclusiveness. Given emergent realities, it is the terms of staying together of the various people boxed into a colonial corner named Nigeria that ought to be revisited and renegotiated in order to give way to a more perfect union.

As we have noted at the beginning, too much politics gets in the way of everything that is noble and inspiring about this country. In any society where everything is politicised, the noble art of politics becomes a toxic pollutant infecting and poisoning everything with its noxious effluvium. It is the bane of the politicisation of everything that has led Nigeria to the cul de sac of fixities about political persecution and fixations about numerical advantage and other assets of political warfare.

So far, the Nigerian political elites have proved more adept at sharing the dwindling and disappearing national cake than baking it. Zoning is not a fool proof mechanism for all time. It is a mere stop-gap contraption for preventing the Nigerian political class from coming to blows in the perennial orgy of feeding frenzy while waiting for the authentic  pan-Nigerian critical mass.

But despite its imperfections and blemishes, despite the obvious shutting out of genuine talents at the altar of political cohesion and elite inclusiveness, it has helped Nigeria navigate the most tortuous pitfalls of post-military politics. Yet nothing lasts forever. If we have now found a superior magic formula for fostering greater unity and cohesiveness among the various peoples, nationalities and classes that make up the Nigerian nation, let us bring it up without any further ado.

By Tatalo Alamu

• The crisis of unitary governance in Nigeria

To Glover Memorial Hall and its antique ambience this last Sunday for a fascinating and engrossing musical on the unforgettable Obafemi Awolowo, a political genius and visionary statesman, unarguably the most memorable figure thrown up in the crucible of Nigeria’s postcolonial politics. Almost twenty years ago at the Afenifere Inaugural Lecture, this writer described Awolowo’s departure from the Nigerian political scene as the longest goodbye ever.

Thirty four years after his translation to immortality, the situation remains very much the same. Hardly can a day pass in the turbulent world of Nigerian politics without Awolowo being directly referenced or his sterling record indirectly alluded to even by his remaining political adversaries. The man has become a living legend.

Such is the mystical and mesmerizing hold he continues to exert on his Yoruba people, such is the reverential awe in which he is held that the man who was once sighted waving from the moon has become an object of secular worship in many quarters. As his factual physical presence recedes from human memory, as he becomes a figure of remote antiquity, Awo is also transforming into a mythical personage; a semi-god in the pantheon of his people.

But how to get to Glover Memorial Hall this beautiful evening became a major problem and source of anxiety. When one got the card, one had thought that the advertised venue was a typographical error; a misprision for the iconic and refurbished Lagos City Hall which came back to life after a mysterious fire incident that gutted its entrails.

But on further investigation, it turned out that Glover Memorial Hall was for real. It is a measure of how far the country has journeyed from physical colonization that a national monument like Glover Hall would gradually fade away from memory. Despite this, complexities and cultural contradictions remain.

At this point the mind took over with its bag of tricks. Glover? Was that not the one hacked down by irate tribesmen somewhere in Keffi? No, in actual fact he was not. It was Captain John Moloney—not to be confused with the other more distinguished Sir Cornelius Alfred Moloney— whose murder invited a savage response by the colonial authorities. The saying, men are hanged not because horses are stolen but so that horses will not be stolen remained a standard fare of colonial justice.

Glover was a different kettle of fish, a tough but respectable and much admired colonial authority. The hall was built in 1887 in his memory after his departure by appreciative Lagosians led by Dr J.K Randle. But like most things else in the country, the memorial hall went into decay and desuetude. After a false start of rejuvenation, it was only recently reprieved from its “semi-derelict” state by a Nigerian artistic troupe.

Glover Hall was wearing a facelift after a make-over pioneered by Akin Ambode and later taken up by Jide Sanwo-Olu in his usual quietly energetic manner. But the approach from the business district perimeter remained cramped, clogged and utterly discomfiting, requiring unusual stamina and fortitude as you negotiated natural impediments and human obstacles put in place by a posse of half-crazed druggies who called one out by name as they demanded their own share of the birthday largesse.

The invitation to attend the show was a political summons, a coded message to an off-message son which bears eloquent testimony to the rich political culture of the Yoruba and the extraordinary capacity of its elders to speak in political tongues. The Agidigbo drum speaks in proverbs and riddles meant only for the wise and discerning.

Two VIP cards had landed in the house, sent by a representative of the premier sociocultural conclave of Yoruba cognoscenti otherwise known as Afenifere. Yours sincerely knew what it meant. Refusal or rejection was not on the card. Hurried arrangements had to be made to make sure that one did not miss the event.

In the event, it turned out to be a memorable feast of music, dancing and joyous singing. The cast was quite formidable. Awo’s mystical aura and politically electrifying presence was brought alive. Although it must be said that the attempt to portray Awo as an incurable romantic did not quite come off, this was more than compensated for by individual acting. The chap who played the late Ikenne titan was brilliant and impressive, capturing the Awo persona in all its dignified carriage and chilly aloofness.

There were unforgettable cameos of the leading figures of that convulsive and turbulent era: Samuel Ladoke Akintola, Chief Ayo Rosiji, Oba C,D Akran and the colourfully and fancifully attired Festus Okotie-Eboh, the Omimi Ejoh himself. If only there was more traditional music to reflect the subversive lyrics and counter-hegemonic drumming of the time. Akintola, a master of double-tongued panegyrics, would have picked out the ones slyly meant to put him in his place.

The crisis that rocked the Action Group and which eventually led to the destruction of the First Republic was vividly dramatized with the wily and pragmatic SLA acting as a historic foil to the implacable social prophet and unappeasable social reformer in Awolowo. It was to end in mutual political ruination of the contending forces as it ever so happens in history, with Awolowo escaping with a temporary reprieve.

In retrospect it all appears as if there is a ring of inevitability to the tragic denouement. Even at its most coherent and cohesive, the Action Group was at best an unstable ensemble of contending and mutually countervailing political forces with royalist, conservative and progressive elements jostling for supremacy. While this roiling cauldron of contradictory forces was kept under the lid for some time, the decision of its able and charismatic leader to move to the centre in order to join forces with the federal authorities was to prove a bridge too far.

The decision of Awolowo to move to the centre probably panicked the federal coalition into adopting a policy of proactive destabilization of both the old western region and its stellar ruling party. With generous federal assistance, the Action Group fractured into its component parts sending the region into a political tailspin which would eventually lead to the destruction of the First Republic and the advent of military rule. It will be recalled that the ruling authorities had earlier unilaterally and unitarily carved out the mid-West region just to whittle down Awo’s authority.

In all this, Awolowo’s main aim was to extend to the rest of the country the credo of life more abundant and the miracle of accelerated development he had performed for his native region. His driving political philosophy was Democratic Socialism. But his political opponents led by Akintola insisted that in a multi-ethnic and multi-religious nation political victories are driven by coalition, compromises and bargaining among the political elite and not fancy idealism and naïve sloganeering.

So while Awolowo took a sharp lurch to the left, his right-wing adversaries scrambled back to their conservative bastion. In retrospect, the mantra of Democratic Socialism was dead on arrival; a roaring oxymoron in a country dominated by a feudal elite who held this as a serious affront to their culture and politics.

A fiercely determined man, Awolowo was not going to be deterred by this political duel onto death. He had let it be known boldly and clearly that feudalism was the bane of modern Nigeria. Any compromise, bargain or deal with its scions was bound to end in political dilution and ideological diminution which would affect the mode of governance and the quality of service delivery itself. He simply went behind the northern power brokers to take his case directly to the northern masses.

The northern power masters were so outraged by this contumely which they saw as the equivalent of a death sentence that they decided to teach Awolowo an unforgettable lesson in political power play. The ensuing conflagration pushed the country along the path of thunder, as memorably phrased by Christopher Okigbo. This in turn drew the ire of mid-ranking Igbo military officers with their fiercely republican ethos. It ended the First Republic and led directly to civil war.

Almost sixty years after the politics of Nigeria continues to be framed along this perilous fault line of permanent confrontation and collision of shrines between two main antagonistic forces, with internal mutations and modifications as enacted in different forms, formats, formations and formulations.

About thirty five years ago, General Babangida noted that Awolowo was the main issue in Nigerian politics for the previous three decades. He was not resorting to hyperbolic ventilation. Sixty years after independence, Obafemi Awolowo’s ideals and ideas continue to frame the contours of national discourse whether as seen in his 1947 landmark intervention in the National Question, his ruminations on fiscal federalism, his discourse on the need for mental magnitude and his seminal disquisition on the strategies and tactics of the People’s Republic.

This is why whenever Nigeria finds itself in dire straits such as we are, the supersonic boom of Awo’s ideas, the thunderous artillery of his thinking, continue to echo and ricochet. Finally, it will be fruitful and profitable to imagine how the departed avatar would view the current circumstances of the nation, with its endless physical confrontations and legal contestations for the soul of the country.

In all probability, Awolowo would have donned his legal gown as he heads for the Supreme Court over the VAT imbroglio. But it is useful to disentangle facts from myths. Despite his apparent rigidity and unyielding stance on many political issues, Awolowo was not doctrinaire and inflexible in his thoughts. He was capable of changing his stance and yielding to superior political arguments.

This can be seen in his essay, “Rethinking in Prison”, his willingness to modulate and modify his romantic federalism so that Nigeria can move forward and his readiness to serve under General Gowon up to a point to save the nation from sure perdition. He was the only one among the titanic troika who insisted that a secessionist clause should be put in the constitution. But he dropped the idea after he was persuaded that it could open the Pandora Box of national disintegration.

But it is almost certain that were Awolowo to be alive, he would have nailed his colours to the mast of Nigerian masses and fought for their emancipation from political serfdom. In his very last interview, Awolowo told his interviewer that were he to die and come back in thirty years only to find Nigeria still a bastion of economic inequities and political injustice, he would certainly be at the head of the stone-throwing mob.

How then would this remarkable man view the current catcalls for the dissolution of the country championed by several self-determination groups? Awo would have understood their grievances, just as he would have appreciated their deep animus against the Nigeria postcolonial state and the hegemonic caste that had held it in thraldom since independence. He himself had been their serial victim. They sent him to jail and made it impossible for him to realize his dream of ruling the nation.

Yet despite everything, such was the gargantuan sum total of Awo’s psychic, emotional and intellectual investment in Project Nigeria that in all likelihood he would have baulked at the idea of a summary dissolution of his beloved nation no matter the provocation. This was the extraordinary personage we all gathered to honour once again last Sunday. It is proving impossible to bid Awo a final goodbye.

By Tatalo Alamu 

We live in very interesting times. The old inscrutable Chinese could not have wished anybody a better time to live in. The ancient people of Confucius know that the best test of any political system that claims superiority over other or earlier systems is time. Time is a patient taskmaster. The Taliban cynically crow that western civilization may have the modern clock, but they (the Taliban) have the time, and that is time in all its oceanic plenitude.

As the Taliban are ensconced in the presidential palace in Kabul dishing out to a bemused and stricken Afghan populace the very theocratic orders they were forced to abandon twenty years earlier, America and the west are wondering what has just hit them. This was not part of the original mission in all its messianic naivety. Nobody could have put things better than Mike Tyson, the rogue American pugilist and prize fighter: Every boxer has a plan until the first blow hits them in the face.

The old African savants, masters of traditional authoritarian order, would be chuckling in their graves. A child that berates its parents for being poor and dissolute has all the time in the world to prove its own worth.

This column has been shouting from the rooftop that the world is on the cusp of momentous changes. Everywhere you turn, liberal democracy and its offshoot of the nation-state paradigm are facing their most severe test since Christopher Columbus claimed to have discovered the Americas.

The winter of Mr Winterbottom is here for all to see. There are brutal ironies in the air. In sheer desperation, facts are fiddled with and figures are further reconfigured to make them conform to unyielding reality. But the underlying problems will not disappear.

Now we have the phenomenon of growth without development and of cooked up statistics masking deepening poverty and biblical misery. Anybody who grows a hundred tubers of yam but who insists that it is two hundred must be prepared to consume untruth when the truth is exhausted.

Perhaps this is where our literary geniuses could be of help. Writers are the unacknowledged seers and political prophets of their society. They see farther than everybody. This is probably because of their unique temperament and psychological make-up.

At the end of Things Fall Apart after the protagonist had hanged himself rather than face up to the prospects of sure execution for beheading an emissary of the new order,  the colonial administrator, mulled the title of the book he was writing to capture the historical tragedy that had just been enacted.

It was the story of a flawed hero who refused to change with changing times. The tested servant and mandarin of British Empire came up with the provisional title: The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.

If the irony of this colonial hubris and cultural arrogance was lost on the colonial administrator who thought he was on a civilizing mission to tame and humanize the savages of Africa, it was not on Chinua Achebe, the master ironist himself. How on earth could anybody assume and presume that other people, however strange and different, did not have their own indigenous system for ordering the world and for making sense of reality? The arrogance sucks to say the least.

Yet as the years went by and the pacification intensified at the cultural, spiritual and intellectual levels, the colonial arrogance oscillated between brazen loathing for the “strange ways” of the conquered people and a sublime contempt for the extant tradition which had signally failed them.

In Chinua Achebe’s subsequent classic, Arrow of God, Captain T.K Winterbottom, the colonial administrator, resorted to open baiting of the people when he was not engaged in a harsh attempt at suppressing their indigenous customs. It never occurred to the satrap of cultural imperialism that Africans did not first hear of culture with the coming of the White race.

But as subsequent events would prove, change is not only for the conquered, it is even more imperative for the conquerors themselves. Those who are incapable of changing cannot change others. Last month, American forces were expelled from Afghanistan, just as it had happened to the British and the Russians.

In a recurrent cycle of misbegotten imperialism, the same fate had overtaken French and American forces in Indo-China and most memorably in Vietnam. Doing the same thing all over again and expecting a different result is a sign of pure madness, according to Albert Einstein, the modern world’s greatest scientist.

Meanwhile, the Igbo people are going through another round of forcible compliance in the hands of Nigeria’s successor colonial state. Surely, it ought to be clear by now that the paradigm of nation-building and state validation bequeathed to Nigeria by the parent colonial state is severely flawed and can only lead to permanent chaos and instability. Those who refuse to learn and profit from their own history are condemned to a life of spiteful futility.

As the old African ontology reasserts itself against the vagaries of modern nationhood and the sheer incompetence of the postcolonial state in adjudicating competing and countervailing elite interests, it is clear that we must find within ourselves the means of domesticating and humanizing the postcolonial state bequeathed by the colonial masters which can only pacify the natives without even attempting to understand them. It is the Winterbottom Complex.

If this strategy of forcible co-optation succeeded in the high noon of colonization, it now faces terrible disaster in the world’s oldest continent. This year alone, South Africa descended briefly into apocalyptic chaos as a fall out of the Jacob Zuma presidency and the inability of the apartheid successor-state to wean itself off the terroristic inequities of the original apartheid state.

Zuma, a traditional African chieftain straight out of Zulu Dawn, combined the worst excesses of traditional authoritarian African rule with a tantalizing incompetence when it comes to running the affairs of a modern nation. He has never hidden his contempt for the latter. He has just been let out on medical parole to assuage his teeming ethnic cohorts. The original problem will not go away.

In the West African sub-continent, the spate of military coups within months should be an ominous augury of where things are headed. Chad, Mali and now Guinea have succumbed to untrammelled military rule.

In all these countries, there are underlying unresolved ethnic and economic tensions which predispose the political elite to zero-sum games and sit tight shenanigans, whether as seen in the Zhagawa hegemony in Chad, the Malinke-Fulani   dogfight in Guinea or the Tuareg fear of domination and marginalization in Mali. It is an apocalyptic cocktail of resentment and disorder which has fuelled wars and periodic upheavals.

It is the same cocktail playing out in Central African Republic and in Niger Republic where a brief military uprising to prevent an orderly transfer of power was promptly quelled. In the case of Alpha Conde, it has been a familiar route to national tragedy. The AU and ECOWAS now shouting murder from the rooftop watched quietly as the otherwise impeccably credentialed former civil society activist tweaked his country’s constitution to allow him to run for an illegal Third Term.

When at the turn of the nineties, President Mitterand of France at a Conference in La Baule famously proclaimed a wind of democratic change blowing over Africa, he probably had in mind the momentous events leading to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the heroic resolve of the Beninois people who had just dismissed their former military tormentors.

But the crafty French ruler did not reckon with the possibility of the old African ontological essence reasserting itself. This was at the same time Robert Mugabe, the old Shona wizard of Harare, was tightening the bolts and nuts of authoritarian personalist rule in his country while throwing the keys into the Zambezi River.

It will take the Zimbabwean military another three decades to prise the nation from the iron claws of the clearly unhinged former nationalist hero. It was also at the time General Ibrahim Babangida’s transition chicanery was winging its way to its tragic and perilous end. Thirty years after Mitterand’s declaration Africa is probably in a worse shape, a tragic patchwork of sham democracy, authoritarian personalist rule and outright military dictatorship.

What remains to be worked out is why Africa proved such an easy meat for the colonial invaders to swallow unlike what happened in some other non-Western societies. For an answer to this, we must return to the Umofia society as brilliantly captured for posterity by Chinua Achebe.

There is no perfect human society. But every society must find within its inner reserves the capacity for change whenever such change is demanded by new realities and emergent historical exigencies. Otherwise such changes will be effected by the antagonistic logic supplied by internal invaders or external conquest.

It was this inability to change and adapt to new circumstances that proved the Achilles heel of the Umofia society, just as it would happen in virtually all pre-colonial African societies. Despite the fact that there were several native customs and aspects of the tradition requiring change or radical modifications as the case may be, the entire Umofia society was in the throes of an ethical and moral paralysis. Even the most courageous cowered in abject cowardice and fear of the oracle.

Everybody in Umofia knew that the practice of killing off all war captives was a custom that had had its day. But no one was willing to move against tradition. Ezeudu, the oldest and most decorated war hero, could only steal into Okonkwo’s compound in the dead of the night. “That boy calls you father. Do not have a hand in its death”, the veteran head-hunter admonished the junior warrior.

But it was to no avail. Out of the fear of fear and of being labelled a coward, it was Okonkwo himself who cut the poor boy down as he ran to towards him and away from his assailants. It was the beginning of the end. Obierika, Okonkwo’s best friend and Achebe’s favourite character, could only negotiate a route out of the impasse distinguished by its outlandish opportunism and ethical cop-out: “If the oracle says I should kill my son I will not object but I will not be the one to do it”.

This is the bane of all societies in urgent need of internal reformers but with none in sight. It is not surprising that Nwoye, Okonkwo’s resolutely off-message and indolent son, was one of the early people in the Umofia clan to secede to the new religion which provided a radical haven for the wretched of Umofia’s earth. Nnoka, his grandfather, an ineffectual and debt-ridden nonconformist, would have nodded from his grave in great approval. The last had become the first.

What distinguishes Africa from certain societies that have withstood the ravages of colonial conquest is the institutional weaknesses of the pre-colonial African societies and their lack of capacity for internal change and societal reforms. They had passed the high noon of evolution and only seismic revolutions could have saved them.  Despite being formally conquered and subjugated at some point, China, India, the Arab Peninsula and Singapore have managed to survive with their indigenously evolved political and economic systems.

The spate of coups, ethnic conflagration and political disorder in Africa is just a symptom of a more fundamental psychic disorientation of African people. Having been brought culturally to heel, intellectual, spiritual and economic estrangement must logically ensue. These is why even the most accomplished Africans, unlike the Chinese, the Indians, the Singaporeans and the Japanese, seek intellectual validation from western institutions designed to protect and project the hegemony of the western order.

Such has been the ideological efficacy and the spiritual terror exerted on Africans by these foreign institutions that it has proved impossible to evolve a distinctly African identity or to recuperate its lost organic essence. The result is a people completely alienated and disembodied from reality permanently groping in the dark void and debris of history while waiting for divine extrication. It will not come under the current circumstances.

As the nation-state paradigm and its liberal democracy ancillary continue to unravel even in the west, it is now obvious that Africa requires a new intellectual cadre that must think through its fundamental problems in an original and organic manner.

Such a project does not preclude borrowing motifs and tropes from western civilization. But as the Chinese, the Singaporeans, the Indians and now the Emirate Arabs have taught us, such an exercise requires a thorough knowledge and complete immersion in countervailing global cultures.

It is the chilly winter of Captain T. K Winterbottom. What follows next is not going to be Utopia. It is going to be one hell of commotion and caterwauling. Liberal democracy and the nation-state paradigm have exhausted their possibility for the human race. After the smoke has cleared, the world is going to be a more interesting place.