Category: Tatalo Alamu

  • A Day in the Life of America

    A Day in the Life of America

    Now that the Obama extravaganza has come and gone, it is time for nations, societies and people alike to learn some important lessons. There are major lessons to be learnt from the events preceding, surrounding and succeeding the glittering spectacle. While it lasted, snooper was in the thick of things, arriving at a crowded and festive Dulles International Airport on the Sunday preceding the inauguration and not leaving until Hillary Clinton was firmly ensconced in office on Thursday morning.
    The triumph of Barack Obama has been a great public relations coup for an America that was widely reviled abroad as a seething conurbation of unintelligent and feckless militarism, a land that projects its internal injustice and political inequities on the rest of the world with the malice of a naughty but supremely devious toddler.
    It was clear that if nothing was done, America was going to inflict its own internal contradictions on the rest of the world with apocalyptic consequences. With unwinnable wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and with its economy hobbled as a direct consequence of its arrogant unilateralism, it was only a question of time before the entire globe was dragged under in an economic and political maelstrom.
    With the Obama miracle, the tendency has been to over-romanticise the sturdy values and endearing attributes of the society and nation that has thrown up America’s forty fourth President. We were all Americans this last week. From Australia to Zambia, from Auckland to Yenagoa, the entire globe stood still in admiration and awe of a truly functioning democracy, of people’s power at its most potent and potentially devastating.
    It was one of those great moments of history, a spectacular ritual of human renewal and societal self-validation. History may be a nightmare from which we are all struggling to wake up, as James Joyce famously quipped. But history can also be a sweet dream from which we do not wish to wake up or be disturbed by uncomfortable reality. The quintessential American dream was at work last week, and it was a glimpse of Elysium, of human paradise on earth.
    Yet in our rapture and admiration, we seem to have forgotten or conveniently overlooked the fact that an Obama presidency, as brimful of hope and promise as it is, does not even begin to disturb the litany of woes that has plagued America since its birth. Nor does it automatically presage the end of the multiple scourges that have turned America into a consuming hell for many of its nationals.
    These helpful reminders notwithstanding, let nobody take away the considerable achievement of the American nation in casting traditional bias and hateful prejudices aside to elect its first president of African American extraction. The triumph itself may be largely at the symbolic level. But to continue to dwell on this is to ignore the extraordinary collective courage and visionary resolve that went into cobbling the Obama rainbow coalition together.
    All nations are artificial constructs, counterfeit contraptions arbitrarily slammed on a territorial space by the imperial will of a mighty few. The United States of America is no exception to this iron law of modern nationhood. The modern history of America itself bespeaks a constant and occasionally violent struggle to impose order and cohesion on an increasingly unwieldy and dramatically shifting territorial space. Empires, kingdoms and fiefdoms are nothing but signifiers of space delineation at specific historical conjunctures, subject to change and terminal duress. What is permanent are the human communities so arbitrarily marked by the human will to power.
    In this Homeric battlefield, some nations have turned out to be more cohesive and coherent than others. This is because if the nation is an expression of the imperial will of the few, it takes the collective heroic will of the many to turn it into a national community of organic principles. A nation that has not transcended its inchoate origins to become a national community of shared values and common destiny remains what the revered Obafemi Awolowo has called a mere geographical expression or a congregation of mutually antagonistic armed camps permanently at war with themselves.
    Once the organic principles that bind a nation together evolve, it is the constant battle to reaffirm these core principles that shape and frame the evolution of the nation. Man is born free, but he is everywhere in chains, as Rousseau famously asserted. The founding fathers of America envisaged a nation of freeborn where all are equal before the law. But the ink had hardly dried on this noble declaration before America reverted to the default setting of a savage slave plantation.
    It is in the nature of human societies for noble ideals to be corrupted. The chief culprits are often the visioners themselves. What is important is not the corruption of ideals or their progressive desiccation in the roiling cauldron of history and lived experiences but the innate capacity of each society to summon the will and the inner resources of strength to challenge the decimation of its core principles. This is the road to renewal and self-validation.
    It is this battle for the soul of a nation, for its core values that the world has just witnessed in America. With the election of Barack Obama, America has once again demonstrated an amazing capacity for self-renewal which should be the envy of the rest of the world. It has not been easy for this change to come, and it has taken decades of blood, sweat and tears.
    Freighted with several contending and mutually contradictory notions of what is good for the nation and society, America has been a natural candidate for a deadlocked existence and the inevitable paralysis of the collective will. But once in a while in every society, an extraordinary figure of charisma and vision often emerges to break the deadlock and defreeze the frozen dialectic of history once again. In Barack Obama, the gifted son of an absconding African immigrant, America appears to have found such a person.
    It is too early to say whether the old stalemating demons will not return to hobble Mr Obama’s presidency. Many an American presidency had started on such a glorious note only to come spectacularly unstuck. Defeated, demoralised but not completely demobilised, the old warmongers and petrified foes of progress are still lurking with intent. In Obama’s case, youthful idealism and visionary vigour may well be a stuff that will not endure, as Shakespeare famously noted of youth itself.
    But if Obama’s extraordinary campaign and the swift and surefootedness of his opening move on the political chessboard are anything to go by, the omens are very reassuring indeed. Obama has shown a precocious understanding of the dilemmas and uncertainties that face his beloved country. He has shown an unusual empathy for the tragic emptiness of contemporary American society and the ultimate futility of the rampart militarism of its super-security state.
    The comparison with old Abe Lincoln may not be farfetched after all, and it is one that Obama himself seems to deliberately invite. The gangling and inexperienced Lincoln also won a gruelling campaign against better fancied opponents and went on to become arguably America’s greatest president till date. Lincoln went ahead to build bridges and to invite his implacable political adversaries like William Seward to the cabinet.
    Obama has done exactly the same thing, drawing sustenance from his opponents’ strength while building bridges of goodwill and genuine fellowship across a bitterly polarised polity. While his Republican opponents ran a divisive, partisan campaign and politicised everything under the sun, Obama chose to remain wisely above the murky fray coming across in the process as the healer and statesman America needs at this particular moment of its history.
    With President Barack Obama, it is morning yet on creation day for America. It is in the nature of nations and human societies to falter, to stumble and even to fall at critical moments. What is important is to find the courage and the strength of character to get up and get going again. Anybody who has been in America in the past few days will bear witness to history and give testimony to the inherent good nature of humanity.
    The mammoth crowd that witnessed the coronation of an American of African extraction is unprecedented in human memory. It was a carnival-like atmosphere of human regeneration. Something is astir in God’s own country. In transforming itself, America may yet help to transform the rest of the world. It will do so by the might of its example and not by the example of its might.
    •First published in January, 2009

  • And how about throwing some tantrumps?

    And how about throwing some tantrumps?

    In times of grave political emergencies, the human imagination often develops outsize wings possibly as a strategy of containing and coming to terms with impossible reality. What cannot be imagined is what cannot be endured. The civilized world has been filled with apocalyptic trepidation as the prospects of a Donald Trump presidency drew nearer, and the world woke up on Friday to the possibility that the rogue contrarian may actually pull the nuclear trigger on the occasion of his own inauguration to send the human race on a terminal snooze.
    But as the inauguration proceeded peacefully without a nuclear incident and without Donald Trump physically roughing up his running mate, one has been forced to scale down the Order of Calamity and to downgrade the furious political gale to a Category C storm. Trump even spoke brilliantly about patriotic protectionism as a harbinger of national prosperity. It is a de-globalizing project, stupid.
    Even then, the prospects of Donald Trump physically assaulting a visiting African strongman or suddenly unleashing his infamous verbal grenades remain real and gripping. Flashes of impatience and irritation with political rituals bristled as Donald struggled to maintain icy composure. There is also the possibility that the whole thing may end in a historic fiasco with Trump committing an epic security infraction which will trigger a bi-partisan impeachment proceeding against him.
    As the Trump presidency got underway, yours sincerely headed for his favourite watering hole to drown his sorrow. It has not been a good year for pundits and the stellar commentariat. The advent of Donald Trump has thrown the business of political star-gazing into disrepute. Eight years ago yours sincerely was in Washington to witness the triumph of Obama. At least one got that one right. But this one has been a huge lump in the throat. One had been praying that the day would never come or that Trump himself would make life easier by just disappearing.
    Here we are watching on television as the Obamas welcome the Trumps to the White House in a seamless transition which spoke volumes for the strength of American institutions and the magic of human power. In revenge, snooper has resolved to collect all of Donald Trump’s verbal howitzers as a constant reality check. We call them tantrumps.

  • State principles and religious identities

    State principles and religious identities

    In fragile and unstable post-colonial states and nations, the incursion of religion into the state arena ought to be avoided like a plague. This is because religion, being a faith-based and emotive phenomenon, is resistant to logic and the rational intellectual constructs on which modern nationhood is founded. No amount of logic and intellectual rigour on display can sway the religious adherent. Magic cannot be explained away rationally. In its purest form, religious worship is based on the suspension of logical and intellectual disbelief.
    This is why religious disputes are a potentially explosive affair. Yet Nigerian authorities find it very hard to shy away from religious contentions. If religion is truly the opium of the people, it may well be the adrenalin of the ruling class in Nigeria. The Nigerian post-colonial state, like a condemned moth, finds religious conflagrations very conducive and appealing indeed. It is like an addictive urge to play with fire, just to test one’s fire-fighting skills. But there are fires and there are fires.
    Yet it is also obvious that despite its strength, its power and capacity for violence, its ability to instil and inflict terror on the populace, the state continues to be vulnerable to certain traditional institutions and religions particularly in Nigeria. Why this is so goes back to the very foundation of the colonial state on the continent and the emergence of the Nigerian nation from the colonial laboratory of artificial insemination.
    Events of this past week have brought to the front burner the explosive mix of religion and statehood in Nigeria. Jim Obazee, the rogue regulator at the Financial Reporting Council (FRC), in an attempt to bring the leadership of the non-traditional church in Nigeria to heel brought himself to heel instead and brought the federal government to precipitate fury in an unhelpful and maladroit manner. For a government often characterized as slow and tardy in response to national emergencies, the retribution was swift and severe. In one fell swoop, Obazee was dismissed and the council reconstituted.
    The ripple effects of this dramatic denouement are still very much with us. Many have lined up behind the government and the embattled leadership of the non-traditional church. Superstitious intellectuals, an oxymoronic formulation unique to Nigeria and Africa, are having a field day. The alleluia boys and girls of the press have risen as one to condemn what they consider to be an unwarranted interference in freedom of worship and choice of church however its structural and fiscal eccentricities. While the senate kept a dignified silence, the house waded in in an unwieldy and unhelpful manner.
    This development leads to several interesting and intriguing paradoxes which must be teased out in the interest of national clarity and state illumination. Some of these need to be immediately isolated for the sake of analytic leverage. For example, is the Nigerian post-colonial state a secular state or a theocratic state with pretences to secularity based on its choice of democratic governance underscored by secular parties, secular ideologies and secular elections based on secular freedom of association and leveraged by a free, secular press?
    The very idea of a theocratic secular state is a contradiction in terms. Despite the prevalence of theocratic rule in certain segments of the human society, the modern-nation state is premised on the secularization of the state and the subordination of religious practice to the rule of law as fashioned by the state and its agents. This development occured when territorial space came to be defined by earthly authority rather than religious identity. Whereas in the old arrangement, religious identification and spiritual affiliation was all that mattered, in the new arrangement it was national identification and a pan-ethnic identity which superseded tribe and tongue. Thus was born the modern nation and its concomitant nationalism.
    It is to be noted that like all human activities the advent of the modern nation-state is not a result of peaceful contemplations, political decrees and philosophical postulates. It was as a result of relentless human exertion in the field of battle followed by peace treaties, particularly the Treaty of Westphalia and later The Treaty of Utrecht. Indeed, had the Ottoman Turks sweeping all before them not come to grief outside modern Serbia, we might have been talking of global Islamic theocracy.
    The subjugation and pacification of the continent of Africa by the European imperialist powers followed much the same pattern. It was a function of relentless and dogged secularization. The motive was economic and political and only secondarily religious. Several nationalities with different religions were boxed together and slammed with a national identity with the state superintending.
    In Nigeria, the marked preference of the colonial authorities for a cohesive north even with its different religious affiliation shows that theocracy was far from the pressing agenda. By this same token, it shows that any attempt to impose a theocratic solution on the contradictions of a multi-religious nation like Nigeria is bound to come to grief.
    This leads directly to the other paradox. Is Nigeria a multi-religious state? Contrary to some prevalent political illiteracy, there can be nothing like a multi-religious state. The idea of a multi-religious state is a violent contradiction in terms. Nigeria is a secular state superintending over a multi-ethnic and multi-religious nation and adjudicating among different factions of the political elite who often use the blackmail of religion and ethnicity to pursue their economic goals and interest. The idea of a multi-religious state presupposes a turn by turn power arrangement in which different religious leaders take turn to rule the nation which can only presage much division and disruption.
    The question to be asked is this: why is it that despite the fact that Nigeria is not a theocratic state, religion is often allowed to invade the arena of the state in a way and manner that threatens the secularity of the state, its sacred ethos and fundamental covenant? Virtually all of Nigeria’s post-military leaders in the Fourth Republic with the exception of Umaru Yar’Adua are guilty of this relentless de-secularization of the state.
    In the case of General Obasanjo in his second coming, perhaps in an attempt to validate his sense of messianic exceptionalism, Aso Rock was virtually turned into a permanent Christian Revivalist kingdom with tropes and totems of His Second Coming dotting the landscape. But if this can be excused as arising from the psychological trauma of a man who nursed cosmic vengeance against his tormentors, what can one say of a man like Goodluck Jonathan who became a footloose prayer warrior routinely kneeling before religious authority in a vote-garnering political gimmick bristling with spiritual chicanery?
    Yet the fact that Jonathan became a virtual praying mantis abasing himself and the sacred ethos of secular authority did not stave off looming defeat and the crippling economic depression he and his cohorts inflicted on the nation. There is another historic reference point. In the Second Republic, the pious and prayerful Alhaji Shehu Shagari was known to retire upstairs to commune with his maker as his acolytes took the nation to the financial slaughter slab. It seems as if the more underdeveloped a nation is the more over-religious its leaders are.
    In the particular case of General Mohammadu Buhari, it may well be that his ascetic and abstemious nature, the solid and stolid credentials of his Islamic piety, do not admit of the spiritual razzmatazz of his Christian predecessors. Nobody can fairly accuse him of religious one-upmanship in his public conduct or utterances or of turning the precincts of Aso Rock into an Islamic redoubt with minarets blaring.
    Yet the paradox on ground suggests that in a bid to avoid the tar of religious fundamentalism, he has raised the decibel of the politicization of religion in the country particularly in his last two campaigns as political exigencies led him to court and cultivate certain religious pressure groups at the expense of the secularity of the state simply to demonstrate that he is not a fanatic but a much misunderstood statesman.
    This is precisely what has returned to haunt the government in the Obazee affair as the Buhari administration appears to bend over backward to please and mollify a particular religious tendency with presidential vote-husbandry and the next election in view. To be sure, Obazee, driven by petty animosity for a sect that had reportedly sanctioned him for an earlier pastoral infraction, demonstrated grave political irresponsibility by not clearing matters with his superiors.
    Yet the bald fact remains that in a secular state, all religious groups are subordinate to the directing vision of the secularized Leviathan. This is what guarantees societal cohesion, intra and inter-religious harmony and economic prosperity certainly not religious piety. Even the bible enjoins us to give unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar.
    Ordinarily, respect for freedom of association ought to preclude the state from unwarranted interference in the internal political structure and tenure of leadership of private associations such as non-traditional churches. But it is also the case that government cannot refrain from intervention where the conduct of certain non-traditional religious associations constitutes an economic security threat to the nation or when the internal jostling for power or succession struggle is deemed as prejudicial to public order.
    Having been forcibly constituted as a modern nation-state by colonial conquerors, it would amount to a great historical tragedy if the nation were to regress into Stone Age religious anarchy where religious leaders hold the nascent state to ransom. In contemporary Nigeria, there is a marked disjunction between inner spirituality and overt religiosity, otherwise why is there so much wickedness and wanton cruelty such as we are currently witnessing, despite the nocturnal vigils and endemic fasting?
    As some sections of the political elite fan the embers of religious cum ethnic schisms in several flashpoints leading to widespread mayhem and industrial killing, it is the bounden duty of the Nigerian state to rise to the occasion or lose its fundamental raison d’etre. If that were to be the case, both the state and the nation it is supposed to superintend will unravel in the shortest possible time.
    Finally a word for our spiritual leaders and people of God. To whom much is donated, much is also expected in terms of probity, accountability and fiscal godliness. They cannot continue to resist or cleverly evade state audit of their finances as long as they remain an integral part of the nation and not some theocratic enclaves operating at some interstices beyond state surveillance. But even more important at this perilous conjuncture for the nation, our religious leaders must avoid inflammatory political rhetoric and divisive statements which tend to put the entire nation at grave political risk.
    They must avoid the temptation to turn their exalted political platforms into a bullying pulpit for the sole purpose of wresting political and economic concessions from the state. From the events of the past few years, it is obvious that many of them need political minders. May God grant them the wisdom to appreciate the fact that we are not equally endowed and that a religious avatar is not the same thing as a political genius.

  • Writhing and writing

    Writhing and writing

    (A primer for transformation)

    Writing is easy. All you need to do is to hold your pen firmly and begin to scribble away until your fingers began to hurt and probably to bleed. Yet there are times when you just don’t feel like writing anything, when you feel you have written whatever there is to write. You even begin to plagiarize or parody yourself.

    Self-parody is like sodomizing or even lobotomizing yourself. For the writer, this is the worst form of self-abuse. Intellectual indigestion sets in before a writer’s block begins. It is the literary equivalent of what is known as a burnt out case, a case of leprosy prevalent in the old colonial Congo that is so severe that you can hardly feel anything anymore. Because you are mentally petrified, the whole world has also become one huge slab of a stone. A wit has after all described a critic as a man who leaves no turn unstoned.

    The conceit behind the opening sentence is not even original. You know that somebody has said something close to that before. But in your crammed and cramped state, you cannot recall the exact words or the name of the author. In panic and in urgent need of some literary laxatives, you reached for the Google search engine, skipping the Obasanjo-Awujale tiff which had filled the pages of the newspapers. You dismissed this hegemonic tussle as the opening gambit on the political chessboard ahead of the next presidential election. Nigerian power masters set forth at dawn even when at the dusk of it all the nation has nothing to show for it.

    But when you type in the phrase “writing is easy”, it immediately yields a moveable literary feast containing about twenty eight gems of compelling reflections on the magic of writing by writers across age and time. Snooper leaves you with three of these gems. “The first sentence is not written until the last sentence has been written”, Joyce Carol Oates. “Writing is easy. All you need to do is to cross out the wrong words”—  Mark Twain. “ There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed”. Ernest Hemingway.

    If writing is such a burden then why write at all? Or why write and writhe? But for most writers, writing is an obsession, a type of holy madness. It is when you stop writing that the madness becomes unholy and unwholesome. The obscene takes over from the scenes. In solitude, you consume only yourself. But without solitude, you are bound to consume others. The seer has become the shearer.

    It has been suggested that writers do not stop writing because the writer is a righter. The writer as a righter? What does this mean? It means the writer is the ultimate moral, ethical and spiritual compass of his society; the one who sets aright whatever has gone wrong and awry with his society; the all-time weatherman for troubled climes who forges in the smithy of his soul as the unregulated conscience of his race, to misappropriate James Joyce.

    If snooper’s memory serves him right, more than thirty years ago, in an engrossing and polemical monograph written for the monograph series of the Department of Literature in English at the old University of Ife, Niyi Osundare, the master-poet of agrarian splendour and joyous soaring lyricism, set forth the artistic template for what has since become a glittering career in popular and populist poetry. It was titled: The Writer as Righter.

    At that point in time even with the Commonwealth Prize for Poetry already in his Ikerre Ekiti hunting bag, it was obvious that Osundare had a sense of mission and of what should be the place of the writer in his society. Thirty years on and several national and international garlands after, the great crooner from Ikerre has not looked back, neither has he spared the politically errant the merciless and astringent bromide of his poetic master strokes.

    The cost of this poetic license can be prohibitive. Osundare often calls snooper on his occasional visits to Nigeria to compare experience and to share in the joys of glorious literary creation. In his guttural voice, rich and redolent with political ironies, the superlatively endowed lyricist recently told yours sincerely of how he was compelled to devise an escape route through Ise Ekiti at his own mother’s funeral, just in case the local tyrant decided to visit him with poetic justice after an earlier poetic infraction. Such are the pains of writers and righters.

    But unlike snooper, at least they allowed Niyi to bury his mother. Yours sincerely was not so lucky. Abacha’s goons kept a vigil and were on the prowl should in case yours sincerely have the temerity to show up once again as he did a week earlier, beating their evil security dragnet hands down through the help of some trusted associates. As a gesture of filial obligation to a beloved mother and as a mark of indignant contempt for military despotism, yours sincerely had shown up a week earlier to pay his last respects to the dying matriarch. Many thanks, once again to Akin Osuntokun, my politically estranged younger brother.

    As one writes this, the eyes began to cloud all over again. Perhaps it is because this coming month, it is going to be twenty years. Most rulers hate writers because they cannot write, nor are they capable of imagining the pains and trauma of creative gestation. Take a census of Nigeria’s rulers and see how many of them can be regarded as authentic authors rather than purveyors of ghost written memorabilia. Many of them cannot even read over without stumbling over their own recalcitrant creations.

    When Charles de Gaulle, the greatest Frenchman of the twentieth century, was asked to put away Jean-Paul Sartre who had been a thorn in his flesh and had been described by De Gaulle’s loyalists as the hyena behind the typewriter, the great warrior declined, famously grouching that Sartre was also France. Political titan and literary avatar profoundly disliked each other but each knew which sacred national boundary cannot be crossed without the nation suffering for it.

    The fact is that Charles de Gaulle was not only a military and political genius, he was also an accomplished author in his own right. Pound for pound, De Gaulle remains one of the most gifted prose stylists of the French language. African leaders who tend to excel have all been authors and avid pen pushers: Tafawa-Balewa, Nnamdi Azikiwe, Obafemi Awolowo, Kwame Nkrumah, Kenneth Kaunda, Nelson Mandela, Julius Nyerere, Augustino Neto, Amilcar Cabral. etc. Only the imaginatively gifted can call to the imaginatively gifted.

    But if oga no dey write, it is also the case that oga no dey read as well. Let them continue to write their nonsense while oga continues to work wonder. The problem is that without books and a life of the mind, there is nothing for oga to work with. A barren mind is incapable of producing great visionary ideas. This idea that something can come out of nothing and that reading does not matter is part of the ruinous, nihilistic legacy of the political elite that has percolated down to the great multitude in Nigeria. In every society, the ruling reading culture is a reflection of the reading culture of the ruling class.

    From classical Greece to the ancient Roman Empire, through Mandarin China, England, Holland, America, France, Singapore and Fidel Castro’s Cuba, every society that has excelled and commanded the attention of the world has done this through the literacy of its ruling elite and the cultural awareness of the generality of the populace. In many of these societies, economic, political and industrial breakthroughs are often preceded or accompanied by a huge explosion of learning and mass literacy.

    In the pre-literary phase and the great epoch of orality, Africa was there with the rest of the world because the great African oral culture also threw up its superb artists, philosophers, historians military geniuses and great chroniclers. This explains why Africa was not lagging behind the rest of the world in the epoch of empire. In retrospect, perhaps the greatest historical calamity that has befallen Africa and the entire Black race is the inability to transit from oral culture to the literary epoch on its own terms.

    There was enough warning before the Europeans took matters into their hands and applied their own solution as they deemed fit. Now, another world-historic calamity beckons as the advent of a knowledge-driven society and the supersonic boom of the hitherto unimaginable makes nonsense of the old paradigms of creating wealth. No government ever decrees the birth of genius. There is an organic connection between genius and the state of awareness of a society.

    Genius depends on the organic tension between individual talent and the dominant culture. A backward feudal society stifled by mass illiteracy and hobbled by superstitions can only throw up its own type of genius, particularly when it comes to scientific breakthrough. If ever such a society, against the run of play and the logic at play, manages to produce outstanding geniuses, they will in all probability unravel in the infancy of genius unless they are transplanted to more hospitable climes. This is the bane of contemporary Nigeria.

    There is too much unstructured and uneducated discontent in this land. It is a particularly evil augury for both ruled and rulers. In order to redeem Nigeria, we must take the foundational step and go back to where the rains started beating us at least in the post-colonial epoch. We must bring back the great learning culture, the great city libraries, the great town hall debates among holiday makers which powered the brief intellectual renaissance of the seventies and early eighties of which Niyi Osundare and so many others are sterling and outstanding products.

    It is this explosion in learning and cultural awareness which drove the Yoruba cultural revolution under Awo, which led to the great transformational stride that pushed the Igbo nation into global reckoning between the thirties and the sixties and completely overhauled its social and psychological fabric. It was the same phenomenon that led Ahmadu Bello to found the New Nigerian publishing conglomerate a few weeks before he was assassinated. Writing has its pleasure and writhing its great traumatic pains. But taken together, they may well be the elusive magic formula for a nation in urgent need of transformation.

  • In the lion’s den

    To Isapatoromoyan, the ancient Yoruba town through the ancestral homesteads of Eko-Einde, Eekosin and Iwere-Ile for the annual pounded yam festival with the rogue Okon in tow. This annual festival is a Yoruba rite of passage and the equivalent of the American Thanksgiving which began centuries earlier when some intrepid descendants of Oduduwa settled in the northernmost fringes of the new empire among hostile tribes who viewed them with dread and trepidation as bearers of a new type of civilization.

    In gratitude to their mighty deity who had helped them to survive another season among implacable warlike marauders who were bent on exterminating them to the single person, they often gathered at this historic site among huge rocks and Olympian crevices with their best yams and the plentiful venison abounding in the sprawling plains to jollify and to make merry as well as to give vent to the more playful and gregarious side of their nature. Very soon, it became routinized and regularized as an annual festival of hope and renewal.

    It was an epic feast of a feeding frenzy beginning at sunrise and ending when even the cooperative moon began to complain of tiredness and exhaustion. It is all too reminiscent of the magnificent pounded yam festival in Things Fall Apart where it took three days for feeders on all sides to behold each other.  Replete with rare venison of extinct herbivores, wild mushrooms which tasted like upmarket sand grouse and some aromatic vegetables now out of historic circulation, it was a moveable feast indeed.

    But it was also a celebration of spectacular heroism, incredible self-sacrifice and the ancestral spirit of all those who gave up their life so that others can survive. It was the hazy beginning of armed empire and fiery battlements. Yet it resolves the post-Oduduwa paradox and the Oranmiyan Question: How a people who had conquered and grown their old empire through the force of persuasion and superior civilization could now resort to fierce conquest and slaying on an industrial scale.

    The empire rose like a comet, subduing and subjugating far and wide beyond the realm of possibility and human endurance, incorporating in its mighty and minatory embrace strange territories and even stranger people leading to an incredible miscegenation of tribes and human tributaries. Yet like all empires, it also eventually fell like an expired meteor as the auld enemies joined forces with superior cavalry and the bearers of a new civilization who felt that the old one was a threat and nuisance to its own version of history.

    Empires rise and fall. And the rest is history. History was the farthest thing on the mind this morning as a historic fog laid its icy fangs on the entire country. The motoring condition had become simply atrocious. You could hardly see beyond your nose. Even some international flights had to be diverted to neighbouring and more inclement climes. With Okon in tow, history and harmattan were the least of the problems, human nuisance was.

    Before snooper lay an ancient map of the magic route. You journey from Lagos to Ibadan and then to Moniya, Iseyin, Okaka, Otu and then veer off through an old mystery route known only to old empire hands and noblemen which eventually led them back to the ancestral shrine at Ile-Ife. You then come back through Iseyin, the scenic and spectacularly picturesque Ado Awaye, Eruwa, Igbo Ora, the “Randa” intersection near Abeokuta and then back to Lagos through Ewekoro, Orile Wasinmi—Segun Odegbami’s ancestral hideout—— and Sango Otta.

    The journey had hardly started when Okon began making subversive commentaries in his rasping breathless monotone. Irreverent and caustic, Okon does not take hostages.

    “Oga, I just say make I tell you say dem  dey sell diesel for 245 naira for today. Petrol revenue dey rise and naira still dey fall. Na dis year we go know who get dis yeye kontri. If dem like make dem send dem soldier everywhere. When soldier don finis for barak, he mean say katakata don come be dat.” The mad boy yelled.

    “Okon leave me alone and leave the government alone.  At least they have started paying the very poor and aged people the money they promised”, yours sincerely snapped.

    “Oga, no be yeye nonsense be dat one? Dem for build food shelter, employ Okon as Chairman for Belly Infrastructure make I dey feed dem old people. Na food dem people need. Na dis dem one –chance boys dem find find food for”, the crazy boy sniggered.

    “By the way, Okon what do you think about the prophecies this year from the men of God?” snooper asked trying to steer the mad boy away from the path of subversion and sedition.

    “Ha oga  dat one he be like say oversee come oversee overseer”, the mad boy crowed and burst into deranged hiccups.

    By now we were approaching the bridge after the Shagamu intersection. All hell suddenly let loose as some hoodlums jumped out on the road from nowhere, forcing the car to a screeching a halt just before a crater.

    “Come out!! We are kidnappers!” one of the thugs screamed.

    “We no be kid, so make you just go nap dem kids”, Okon bravely shouted at them.

    “Shut up, you fool!” one of them screeched and hit Okon with the barrel of his gun. Snooper jumped up and hit the edge of the bed. Snooper has been dreaming. Yours sincerely has been hallucinating. Happy New Year.

  • For a new year and a new beginning

    For a new year and a new beginning

    Happy new year to our compatriots. But whether it is a happy new dawn is another matter. There are certain years you just wish to forget, that you are in a hurry to banish forever to the abyss of unpardonable betrayal; years that you just wish to bury in the debris of human trauma. These are years when human misery and suffering take a new dimension; when the national spirit takes a terrible bashing and you begin to wonder when last in history so many people have had to sacrifice their life just for a country to survive.
    2016 was such a year. Never in history has the economy taken such a dramatic nose-dive, like a plane in adverse weather but without a hands-on pilot. Never has the collective suffering and misery of Nigerians been more pronounced. Not in recent history have we witnessed such a declining loss of face in the union and the nation.
    It was the year centrifugal forces fastened on the jugular of the nation. Boko Haram declined only to give way to equally vicious sectarian groups. And all this in a country whose demographic balance of power is rapidly shifting in favour of youth; a very young country indeed. Are we not preparing ourselves for an explosive confrontation in the nearest future?
    In retrospect 2016 was the year of what is destined to be known as the Ibrahim Magu syndrome, when the state snared itself in a sting operation, when predators fighting over the carcass of a prey found themselves dragged to the murky bed of a muddied river. At the end of the day, the fight to rid the nation of corruption became tactically stalemated and ethically compromised.
    In a sense, then, 2016 was the year of the locusts. But we must learn the correct lesson in a land where all kinds of predators abound. The problem was not the locusts. Locusts have always existed and will always exist. The problem is how to fight locusts in a scientific and holistic manner. In The Year of the Locust, the brave and heroic protagonist, against wiser counsel and judgement and without being fortified, chose to go out alone to fight an invasion of locusts. The next day his eaten out and hollowed out frame was discovered just outside the village.
    In keeping with its tradition, this column will suspend all intellectual hostilities this morning to felicitate and commiserate with our long-suffering compatriots in these hard times. Only a political sadist will seek to pile further hardships by engaging in unnecessary recriminations and wrangling about what has gone wrong. It is not easy to govern a fractious and temperamentally brittle multi-ethnic nation wracked by religious, regional, cultural and economic polarities. Perhaps we needed to get to this point just to discover that.
    But at all times, democratic governance requires honesty of purpose, uncluttered visionary imagination and integrity of execution in order to deal with the problems of a nation as it encounters new and unforeseen challenges in the relentless march of history. This is the problem confronting the government of General Mohammadu Buhari at this particular and perilous point in Nigeria’s history. The government needs a more hands-on approach if it is to make a dent in Nigeria’s multifarious problems. This government has suffered grievously from a languid and laidback ponderousness in confronting the manifest problems facing the country.
    Given the dire situation of the country, it is quite understandable if some individuals, groups and sections want out of the iron cage of contraries. But this is not the way to go. Nigeria’s problems are collectively created and must be collectively solved. There is nothing out there and in our collective failings as a people that atomistic states and atomised nationhood created out of the current diseased amalgam will prove to be paradise on earth.
    But having said that, it also not a helpful way forward to begin to heckle and hound those who feel traumatized by the injuries of colonial and post-colonial Nigeria. It can be legitimately argued that some of these injuries are often imposed by the collective hubris of trying to impose a sectional or ethnic solution to the Nigerian problem. But they can also arise out of ethnic scapegoating when nationalities with mutually unintelligible cultures are boxed together by colonial fate in a steel fortress where they claw at each other to death.
    Hopefully, and if General Buhari is not to set himself up for political failure the second time around, the fog of messianic delusions and effete one-upmanship will clear and he will begin to do the needy. By the end of the year, it will be clear whether the Daura born general is the man Nigeria needs and requires at this particular juncture or whether it is a damp squib all over again.
    To this end, and in order to help the government recover the initiative in this season of charity and goodwill, this column will isolate three urgent areas of recuperative possibilities requiring the urgent attention of the government and in no particular order. Not even the most adamant admirer of President Buhari will fail to notice that towards the end of the outgone year, the government had succumbed to a somnambulist paralysis and the unsteady assurance of a sleepwalker.
    The mess surrounding the nomination, submission of the non-career ambassadorial list and the subsequent hazy withdrawal shows a manifest lack of seriousness and integrity of purpose at the highest level of decision making, particularly with foreign governments listening in and forming their own judgement about the state of the nation.
    The list itself is shoddy and clearly an abuse of authority and trust at the highest level of governance. If job must be found for the boys and the girls—many of who are not even known as party members or sympathisers—there must surely be other ways of doing this rather than inflicting incompetent hustlers on foreign authorities and our missions abroad.
    Up till this moment, baring the odd political journeymen and shifty-eyed but well-connected nonentity, Nigeria has excelled in its mission abroad and we would do well at this point not to compromise one of our few surviving institutions on the altar of politicking and agenda-driven partisanship.
    The fact that as we speak, and contrary to assurances given by the Foreign Minister, the refurbished list has not been resubmitted, speaks to a failure at the highest level of party consultations. Is there still a party we can call the APC at the moment or a congregation of squabbling politicians in which the old CPC is trying to remould the party according to its old and unelectable political morbidities? The next few months will tell whether the fraught alliance can hold and ever be trusted again by Nigerians particularly in the South West of the nation.
    The second point to note is that with the political defenestration of the ruthless and punitively proactive Ibrahim Magu, a central flaw has been exposed in the whole process of fighting corruption. The forensically talented Magu may have his faults of social misjudgement and political indiscretion but this is surely a messy and blatantly unwise way to get rid of him with two leading sensitive agencies of the government working at cross purposes. In the interest of justice, fair play and national perception, the least the government can do if it is not re-presenting Magu is also to quietly ease out the top echelon of the DSS who have brought such public opprobrium on the government.
    The problem of the EFCC and the whole business of fighting corruption have nothing to do with Magu, but the very conceptual framework of the organization and its institutional bulwark. The EFCC is a laudable creation by General Obasanjo. But in order to fight corruption effectively, it needs a more powerfully holistic, integrative and intellectual framework at the cutting edge of global intelligence.
    Ibrahim Magu may lack the intellectual sophistication and emotional detachment of the truly proficient anti-crime Tsar at the summit of the profession. But you cannot plant cassava and expect to harvest yam. This is what you get when you throw in an ordinary, dedicated and conscientious cop to fight a hydra-headed monster like corruption in Nigeria without the much needed philosophy of crime and punishment and the discriminating theoretical tools of the trade. The international community has since moved on from this prehistoric arrest and bail phenomenon reminiscent of apprehending Stone Age pilferers of community offerings. At the end of the day, nothing will happen. No lesson will be learnt because none has been taught.
    Since we like to ape and imitate the west particularly America, it may be useful to note that the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI and please note the stylishly bland and understated name) is manned at its topmost echelons by politically sophisticated and intellectually distinguished operatives who may not even be professionally trained cops but who are mentally equipped to deal with crime and corruption at their most devious and deviant.
    So powerful and institutionally insulated is the FBI that it can withstand hints and even direct pressures from the presidency. It was said that after repeatedly failing in his bid to oust Edgar Hoover, President Lyndon Baines Johnson finally gave up with the parting shot: “It is better to have a son of a bitch inside pissing out than to have him outside pissing in.” The remote and relentlessly prowling Hoover was reputed to have had a number on everyone including secretly taping President Kennedy having a wild romp with Marilyn Munroe inside the White House.
    Finally and to round off this advisory, President Buhari needs to do something about the public perception of what is known as his kitchen cabinet who are currently seen as being polarizing and divisive, negatively motivated and obsessed by the idea of regional and ethnic supremacy. They have caused the general much disaffection.
    To be sure, there is nothing wrong in keeping a kitchen cabinet. Most rulers need people who share emotional, political, cultural and possibly spiritual latitude with them. But this should not be done at the expense of the wider cosmopolitan outlook and political outreach needed to govern a multi-ethnic nation of diverse worldviews as Nigeria. Here is wishing President Buhari and the nation a much better year.

  • Okon is whistle blower of the year

    Pity the ignorant and ignoramuses, for they shall not inherit the earth. As soon as government announced a five per cent incentive for successful whistle blowers, Okon has been on top of his game. The whole house has been invaded by the din of a million vuvuzelas. Remember the 2010 World Cup in South Africa?
    Every morning, the boy will begin blowing his whistle till day break. Passers-by believe that this is a weird new way of celebrating the festive season. But there is no way of killing Okon’s horn which resonates with a metal shrillness which could have come straight out of the Inca Empire after Cortes and co laid the siege that was to put an end to that civilization and its industrial scale human sacrifice.
    Since it was the holiday season and snooper’s final working year in a gruelling odyssey that started out at the age of fifteen with its Dickensian twists and turns, yours sincerely usually roll up in bed once the mad boy put the entire street on a trumpeting war-footing. It was only the half-crazed dustbin woman who put out a truly outlandish theory that this may be Okon’s signal to the Ijaw militants to come and deal with his master.
    “Oga no vex for early morning ooo, and no say my head no correct ooo, but dis dem Calabar boy and him Ogboju Ode fere, you no say dem police com capture ijaw boy who dey bear Yoruba name. Dis Okon sef, I been dey hope no be Ijaw boy wey dey bear Calabar name ooo?” the Ibadan woman chanted breathlessly.
    When this was put to the mad boy he laughed the idea to scorn, hooting as if he himself had become a giant vuvuzela. “Oga if I be Ijaw or dem Yoruba boy dem Buhari for don pay me my five per cent now. You see when flies dey chop madman nobody dey see until madman come they chop flies” the mad boy snorted.
    Unfortunately for the crazy boy, the only impact made by his whistleblowing was when two urchins were robbing a banker girl at Oshodi and he blew his whistle which distracted the petty thieves and made the girl to escape with her handbag. In rage, the boys approached Okon and beat him to a pulp. Okon came back home with his nose egregiously swollen like somebody who had carried some bee-infested firewood.
    Perhaps it was this that attracted the attention of a local television station which named him whistle blower of the year. On the day of the investiture and still nursing his wounds, Okon sauntered into the station with the drunken Baba Lekki in tow to provide technical assistance. Hostilities broke out immediately as Okon fastened his gaze on the ravishingly beautiful hostess.
    “Bia Charity, abi wetin be dat your Ibo name again, or abi na Chukwu sef, abi no be you I dey see for Ayilara Street?” the mad boy sniggered as the lady froze in embarrassment. But the lead host quickly took charge, having been briefed on Okon’s wayward antics.
    “Etubom Okon, congratulations on this important award”, the young man opened.
    “Make una no conbatulate Okon, just tell dem Buhari man make him pay my five per cent, becos if say I be Yoruba boy or Ijaw, him for don pay quick quick” the crazy boy snarled.
    “Omo ale”, one Lagosian sounding man spat from the crowd.
    “Stupid Yoruba man, you mama don blow whistle before?” Okon spat. The lead interviewer quickly moved in again. His second, a merry looking Yoruba boy with Samanja whiskers, quickly cut to the chase.
    “Mr Okon, how much did you lose in the m.m.m scheme, or am I asking a foolish question?” the fellow asked with merry warmness and sardonic humour. For a moment, Okon appeared completely flustered suspecting a set up as he eyed the chap with suspicion. Then he regained his composure.
    “Äh my broda, to tell una true true I put hundred thousand for dat one but na counterfeit currency I buy for twenty naira, so na jibiti man from Lagos come meet Ijamba man from Ilorin”, the crazy boy sneered to wild applause which roused Baba Lekki from his drunken stupor. The crazy old man began singing an ancient Yoruba ditty in honour of a celebrated swindler.
    Anikura gbowo Ijebu ofi gbewu etu wale
    Anikura yo’be Ijebu yo’bon
    “Okon what do you think about this Magu business?” somebody shouted from the crowd.
    “Ah you see…” Okon began expansively but it was at this point that somebody threw a Christmas cracker into the hall screaming “Ëgbesuuu!!” Everybody consulted their heels.

  • Christmas in the time of Disunited Nations

    Christmas in the time of Disunited Nations

    It is Christmas morning. And what a year this outgoing 2016 is turning out to be? Innocent as it appeared in the beginning, and sweet and sugar-coated as it looks towards the very tail end, this year may well turn out to be one of those historic watersheds in the history of humanity. It was the year the impossible became the probable and the probable became the impossible. According to Sherlock Holmes, the great British detective, after you have eliminated the impossible whatever remains however improbable is the truth.

    How truth hurts! This was the year that a man called Donald Trump trumped both the American establishment and its electorate, wrong footing virtually everybody including Nobel laureates, cerebral celebrities and great historians, on his way to becoming the forty fifth president of the United States of America. Still hurting from the historic uppercut, Time magazine dubbed its own nation the Divided States of America.

    But not to worry. It is not only the Americans who have problems with the truth. Their colonial ancestors also do. This was the year of Brexit, when the Brits, after corralling the rest of the world into the nation-state paradigm, opted out of the European Union, a logical next step in the globalization of humanity. But the Scots and probably the Welsh would be having none of that. In a multi-national nation, self-determination is always a double-edged sword —— a development which has warmed the heart of several affronted nationalities boxed into colonial cages all over Africa. If you want out of a bigger union, others may want out even faster from the original imposition.

    This was the year the hell of Aleppo visited Moscow via Istanbul and the assassination of the Russian ambassador to Turkey. Earlier the same year, Russia had helped to thwart a coup in Turkey through effective counter-American surveillance. Its agents had travelled overland to avoid detection by American listening devices. Stripped of its former plunk and economic buoyancy, Russia is reviving prospects of the return of the world to a bi-polar order with Donald Trump holding the trump card. America has elected an uppity and unpredictable novice to preside over its hegemonic misfortune. Talk of America wonder.

    All over the world, the nation-state paradigm appears embroiled in terminal crisis. The world is out of joints. Humanity is crying for a new mode of organization of global space as well as the management of human and natural resources. We are discovering to our peril that there is nothing sacrosanct or divinely ordained about the nation-state. It just happened to be the most viable method of organizing and structuring global space at a specific conjuncture of human history.

    As unforeseen global pathologies develop, that phase of human history now appears to be in terminal decline with terrifying and cataclysmic prospects as presaged in the human hell of Syria, the turmoil in Europe with the rise of fascist right-wing homophobic organizations, the political disorder of America and in many of the frazzled communities of Africa hobbled by poverty, biblical misery and various epidemics of dereliction.

    If gold can rust, what are baser metals supposed to do? The Republic of Congo and Burundi have descended into civil wars arising from the phenomenon of sit-tight rulers and the chaotic amalgam of pre-colonial nationalities. Yahya Jammeh is set to unleash mayhem on his fatherland. At the young and virile age of ninety two, Robert Mugabe has just been endorsed by his party for a fresh presidential term.

    Biya, Museveni, Kagame, Bashir and the old club of African strongmen seem to have been given a new lease of life. In Ghana the old Nkrumahist coalition, nurtured and sustained by the Rawlings revolution, but eventually mutating to a conservative, reactionary rally mouthing World Bank shibboleths, finally disintegrated before a determined assault spearheaded by old foes and intimate enemies.

    Nigeria did not disappoint, but neither does it inspire as the potential leader of Black Africa. Hobbled and stretched to snapping point by the worst economic crisis in its post-independence history, the entire country lies helpless and hapless, mercilessly drawn and daggered at the shrine of dysfunctional nationhood.

    Meanwhile, the economic implosion has shown itself to be no respecter of even the well-heeled. Tempers are flaring on the streets and nerves are frayed as the old middle class are welcomed back by the old underclass. The Boko Haram sect is effectively degraded but new centrifugal demons are on the rise: vicious herdsmen maim and murder at will; criminal gangs roam the major cities robbing with savage delight; ritual killers are on the prowl and kidnapping has now assumed a transnational efficiency. The Niger Delta is still on the boil depriving the nation of critical revenues needed to sustain minimal survival even as new separatist groups threaten the security of the country.

    President Buhari ought to be commended by the fair-minded for his hands on approach to questions of national security and the survival of the nation as one indivisible entity. Without his heavy-handed military-statist mind-set, it is arguable that the edifice would have long collapsed. But his performance in the economic and political theatres has been less than sterling. Ironically, it is this dereliction that is the gravest threat to national security as the economic and political war of all against all unfolds.

    Having insulated himself with an insular, polarizing and intellectually deficient kitchen cabinet which views the country from the distorted prism of ethnic, religious and regional particularities, it has been impossible for him to beam a powerful intellectual searchlight on the real problems confronting the nation.

    The cold warriors of old northern domination and the feudal hegemony of the First Republic and subsequent military despotism cannot see how far the country has come since then in terms of demographic shift in favour of the youths and changing national mood occasioned by changing political culture. General Buhari must be wondering what he has done to deserve the ill-mannered insults and savage excoriations from his compatriots. But if the government and its closet advisers do not open up to new realities of the nation in all its dynamic turbulence and turmoil, they face dire odds indeed.

    The gravest security threats to Nigeria are those who believe that a modern nation-state should be run and organized along the template of a feudal empire. They will have to contend with those nationals whose own cultural realities predispose them to a fierce, iconoclastic republicanism or eclectic modernization. There are lots of people hurting and looking for a fight out there.

    It will take a statesman of extraordinary political talents and penetrating intellectual gifts to forge a common national ground from these contending realities and mutually unintelligible cultural parameters. The only other option is an outright military conquest which forcibly suppresses all indigenous cultures, a prospect which will make contemporary Syria a paradise on earth.

    Yet it must be noted that in Nigeria, the failure of national integration is also leading to a failure of humanity and civilized conduct. There is a remorseless regression to primitive savagery in the nation. We say this with all sense of responsibility on a Christmas morning and the season of charity to all human-beings. Just take a look at the gory evidence in the papers and the social media.

    There is probably no other human community with this level of barely disguised hate and mutual loathing anywhere in the world. Why do we hate ourselves so much and yet appear at the church, the mosque and sites of traditional worship singing and dancing with rapture and razzmatazz? Colonial configuration of the nation might have exacerbated the problem but the enemy is within.

    All nations contend with various communities at different levels and stages of civilization but they do not consume themselves with the same savage enthusiasm as we are witnessing in Nigeria. Even in homogeneous communities, economic disparities and political differences often unleash the primitive savage lurking within.

    The Nigerian post-colonial state takes the lead in the mindless elimination of its own leading citizens. A country that has killed off four of its post-independence leaders and its only freely and fairest elected president cannot be a spring chicken when it comes to mindless bloodletting: Balewa, Ironsi, Mohammed, Abacha and Abiola. General Buhari himself was lucky to have survived a frenzied assassination bid.  Exactly fifteen years ago, Bola Ige, the nation’s chief law officer, was brutally dispatched in his bedroom. The killers are still at large.

    If we are to resurrect our departed icons murdered in cold blood, what an endless funeral procession of grief and misery it would be. Something tells one that to survive, Nigeria needs a complete make-over. We cannot continue to paper over cracks and dignify indignities. An exhaustive national dialogue appears inevitable at this point. Happy Christmas.

  • Cicero remembered

    To the lush and appealing ambience of the much refurbished and renovated Airport Hotel, Ikeja for the fifteenth anniversary lecture of late James Ajibola Idowu Ige, statesman, poet, orator, Yoruba patriot and Nigerian nationalist. Fondly called Cicero by numerous friends and admirers as a result of his vast erudition and oratorical talents, the Esa Oke born lawyer and classicist was one of the most gifted politicians that Nigeria has thrown up. It felt like the day before but it has been fifteen years since he was killed in his own house

    The event was ably chaired by Senator Shehu Sanni, the feisty and indefatigable Kaduna State senator fresh from the last slugfest with the governor of his State, the equally feisty and implacable Nasir el-Rufai. It is a tribute to the organisers of this memorial lecture, particularly the tireless and indefatigable chap called Awa Bamiji, that they have kept faith with the memory and legacy of the late Cicero.

    But while the hall thronged with activists, well-wishers, admirers, family members and the odd traditional ruler, many of the political associates of the late political grandmaster were nowhere to be found. Some of them would later complain that they were not reached by the organisers. Such is the hypocritical and opportunistic nature of contemporary politics in Nigeria. Since the departure of Ige, there are new power blocs in view and new kids on the block. Life must go on.

    The life of this political titan reminds us of how politics at its highest and most refined form is a thankless job in Nigeria. The penchant for wasting her best and brightest recalls one of Shakespeare’s most memorable lines: “As flies are to wanton boys, so are we to the gods. They kill us for their sports.” The Nigerian political gods have been eliminating the most talented Nigerians for the cruel sports of sustaining their political dominance.

    As speaker after speaker took to the floor expressing their outrage over the mounting cases of unresolved murders linked to the state, you get a feeling that this murderous impunity cannot go on for much longer. Lateef Fagbemi, who gave the memorial lecture, Festus Keyamo who delivered a robust and brilliant legal summation, were particularly outstanding in their presentation. So were Yemisi Ransome-Kuti, Barrister Esan from the old Bola Ige chambers and Odia Ofeimun.

    As the afternoon wore off, the most touching and uplifting moment came when a younger member of the Ige clan was asked to read from his celebrated book about growing up in the north of the country. Titled, Kaduna Boy, it is a tour de force of reminiscences, remembrances, penetrating observations and brilliant ruminations.

    But with his characteristic Cicero gait of immense self-assurance, the younger Ige was the cynosure of all eyes. So impressed was snooper that during the book presentation he had to ask Muyiwa, the architect son of Cicero, who the boy was only to be told that he was his (Muyiwa’s) son and Cicero’s grandson. Thus do noble men die only to leave versions of themselves behind. A new generation of Iges has arrived on the stage.  Cicero would be smiling in his grave.

  • And royal patriarch, the Oloogi of Oogi departs

    Whilst we are still on the subject of our departed avatars, snooper mourns the transition to the royal chambers of his father’s friend, confidant and childhood buddy, the royal monarch of the ancient and historic Oogi town in the state of Osun, Oba James Adeleke Orisakeye. He was a master wit, raconteur and repository of ancient Yoruba culture dating back to the creation of Ile-Ife and the Oduduwa revolution. His power of recall of historical events dating back to centuries before was a tad short of the miraculous.

    By the time he joined his royal ancestors a few weeks back after a long, peaceful and prosperous reign dating back to over five decades, he had already passed into legend and a royal institution in his own right. He was loved and admired by many for his wisdom, cultural elan and sheer majestic presence. Through sheer force of character and charisma, he gave this ancestral homestead a presence and prestige which many thought was out of proportion to its miniscule size. But while there are great domains without a great king, there are also great kings without a great domain.

    Departed royalty was a star dancer in the Yoruba royal tradition of dignified calibration and measured regal goose stepping. Even in vibrant old age, you could pick him out in a crowd royally jiggling and making a splash as if he was in intuitive communion with the mystical deities of the talking drum. Even when advancing years inevitably slowed him down, you were more likely to find him suddenly lurching forward on his seat and shoulder-flexing while winking at the drummers as the pulsating beat got naughty and pleasantly irreverent. It all reminded one of the late Ooni Adesoji Tadeniawo Aderemi  and the departed Timi of Ede, Adetoyese Laoye, a master drummer in his own right.

    On driving his first car home all the way from Kaduna over forty years ago, snooper remembered being roused early the next morning to drive to Oogi for royal blessing. Nestling among palm trees, breadfruits and other bounteous blessings of nature, Oogi was an idyllic rural paradise. The Kabiyesi was very pleased to see his friend and crony. Shortly after blessing the car, domestic hostilities commenced. A carton of Top beer each landed on the feet of father and son. When snooper’s father protested that it was too early in the morning, the late monarch shot back. “Even if you cannot finish everything you must at least take six bottles each before departing”. Snooper began swooning in his chair. The Kabiyesi was such a great sports. May his royal soul rest in peace.