Category: Gbenga Omotoso

  • Tales from the fuel queues

    Tales from the fuel queues

    How that the fuel queues are shrinking and the black marketers as well as their filling station collaborators are returning home to wait for the next harvest, it is fit and proper to relive the season of anguish and anger. Who knows, those fellows who visit such hardship upon us may be touched and choose not to trouble the land this way any more. Who knows.

    As the fuel stress eases, nature has coincidentally chosen to be merciful. The rains seem to be here – so is the rainy day, again coincidentally –  after a long, harsh break occasioned by an unusual heat wave worsened by a collapsed electricity system which, we are told, succumbed to vandalism that drained the plants of gas. The long years of neglect by rapacious adventurers and marauders posing as leaders have finally come to torment us all. Pity.

    It is cool now. Plants have found their flush – fresh, lush and flowery once again, their sheer greenery exciting the mind and bewitching the eyes. The cool breeze hits the body in a refreshing lullaby that only mother nature is capable of working.

    Oh! If man could learn a little from nature and enrich humanity with some kindness. Pardon my digression.

    No matter how bad a situation is, it will have some redeeming feature. And so it is with this latest encounter with the fuel scarcity demon. Long after we had forgotten that the mother of former Minister of Finance and Co-ordinating Minister for the Economy Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala was kidnapped, the secret behind the crime has been revealed.

    Thousands of kilometres away from the crazy queues that partly symbolise the anger of the subsidy lords, Mrs Okonjo-Iweala has told the French newspaper Le Monde of her experience in the fight against corruption. She said sharply: “Nigeria subsidises fuel. About $67billion that it costs. We found that $1.5billion was fraudulent. … I told the President that we would stop paying. What happened? They kidnapped my mother, 83 years. During the first three days, their only demand was my resignation. I was supposed to go on television and announce my resignation.”

    “This was one of the worst moments of my life. Can you imagine what happens in your head if you have to be responsible for the death of your mother? I will not go into details but you must understand that in a country like this… in the fight against corruption, we must be prepared to pay a personal price.

    “My father asked me not to resign. The president asked me not to resign. At the end, everyone began looking for her, and the kidnappers released her.”

    What a revelation!

    Instead of appreciating the former minister for this prized information, which an analyst has rated in the class of the Panama Papers, many have been lashing her for not going the whole hog. They have been asking:  Is Madam telling the truth? Why was it difficult to stop the daylight robbery that the fuel subsidy had become? Who were the men and women behind this criminal mask? How much was paid for the old woman’s freedom? Was that why we couldn’t stop the subsidy and the sharks held the nation to ransom? Did we taxpayers eventually pick this fraudulent bill for our minister’s mum to be released?  C’mon Ma, tell us the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

    Those are the fair and objective observers. There are others who challenged Mrs Okonjo –Iweala to answer the age-long question of what became of the $2.1billion Excess Crude Account cash which Edo State Governor Adams Oshiomhole said was unaccounted for. In fairness to Madam, she once said that the Federal Accounts Allocation Committee (FAAC) was aware that the money had been spent. Even then, she was quickly reminded that FAAC was a mere assemblage of finance commissioners created for administrative convenience and not a constitutional body, which can elbow aside the National Economic Council (NEC).

    By December 2012, the ECA had a balance of over $10 billion. By May, 2015, the balance had gone down to $2.07 billion. Crude oil was between $100 and $108 between 2011 and 2014 when the budgets had a benchmark of $77 and $79. Why was the account not fattened by the excess?

    This is among the numerous questions they are asking Mrs Okonjo-Iweala to answer.

    President Muhammadu Buhari has accused the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) of not saving for the rainy day. They ran the country as if it was Hollywood and movie stars, living a Champagne life of opulence and obscene luxury while the people starved.

    Mrs Okonjo-Iweala disagreed. She spoke of how governors did not allow the Dr Goodluck Jonathan administration to save for the rainy day. Her first tour of duty, she said, saw the establishment of a stabilisation mechanism and opening of an account for surplus oil earnings of $22billion.

    “In 2008 when prices fell from $148 to $38 a barrel, no one heard of Nigeria because the country was able to tap into this fund. And that, I am very proud of. When I returned in 2011, there remained only $4billion on this account while the price of oil was very high. I tried again to put money aside. The president agreed, but the governors did not accept. I suffered a lot of attacks from them and now that the country would really need this account, these same people accuse me of not having saved.”

    Poor woman. How could they have forgotten those lofty schemes that political opponents dismissed as scams? The SURE – P, You Win I win and the icing on the cake, Rebasing – the one that catapulted Nigeria’s economy from the depth of mystery to which its former managers had dumped it to the peak of affluence, the best in Africa. All by the mere ingenuity of our dearest minister who just adjusted the figures and put us where we rightly belong economically. Doesn’t she deserve a trophy?

    At a point the fuel problem bred some tragedies. An expectant woman was delivered of her baby as she walked for hours. In Lagos, a Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC) officer shot dead two persons at a filling station. One, an 18-year-old boy, was accused of hawking fuel, a charge he vehemently denied. Unsatisfied by his pleas to allow him go, the officer fired a shot that killed the boy, simply identified as Ikechukwu.

    As the poor boy fell, the officer and her colleagues fled the scene, shooting into the air. Three people were injured.

    The situation also witnessed a massive exhibition of the fecundity of the Nigerian mind. Laughter became the fuel of life. A fellow recalled: “After Buhari won the presidential election, people started to trek for him. We thought they were insane. We never knew they saw the future; they were being prophetic. Now, everybody is trekking. Now it’s mass trekking for Buhari.”

    The sarcasm was as biting as the situation it was meant to illuminate. The fellow adds a Pentecostal clincher: “Not to worry, the children of Israel trekked to the Promised Land from Egypt. Be of good cheer, fellow Nigerians. Tell your neighbour, ‘I will get there before you’.”

    The story is told of a man who goes to a filling station throbbing with people. Some, fagged out and dozing, have their heads on their steering wheels. Others have their power generators, mostly the tiny ones derisively called I better pass my neighbour, on their bare heads. There are also those holding jerry cans of various sizes – all waiting for the long-awaited sales to begin.

    Suddenly a voice rings out: “They have started o! They have started o!”. As the fellow runs across the road, still screaming “they have started o”, many leave the queue and start running, some also crying “they have started o”. A few kilometres away from the filling station, a motorist and one of the first to run after the screaming man catches up with him, grabs him by the collar of his shirt and asks: “What have they started?” The fellow replies: “El Classico. Barca versus Real Madrid.”

    Of all the rib-ticklers on the Nigerian situation, including a man’s Facebook announcement that he has bought a horse to finally settle the fuel problem, none is as striking as this, part of which appeared on this page a long time ago.

    “Some former leaders died and went to hell. The British leader asks the devil to allow him make a phone call to London to know the welfare of his people. He spends five minutes. Satan bills him $5000.The United States leader makes his call for eight minutes and Satan bills him $8000. The Nigerian leader calls Abuja and spends two hours. He is briefed about the fuel trouble, Boko Haram, kidnapping, budget brouhaha and the anti-corruption war.

    “After his call, he asks Satan, ‘How much is my bill?’ Satan replies: ‘Your bill is $1.’

    Surprised, the Nigerian leader says: ‘How come my own call is cheaper than the other two leaders’? I stayed longest on the phone.’

    Satan, smiling, replies: “What’s the difference? Calling hell from hell is not expensive; it’s a local call.”

  • A sure antidote to peace

    A sure antidote to peace

    Those who accuse the police of being rude and crude should now be swimming in their senseless obstinacy. Why can’t we, for once, give them the credit they deserve?

    Consider their recent breakthrough which nobody, including the authorities and those fastidious fellows who hide under all manner of nomenclatures, such as social critic, columnist and activist, to scold and scorn the police, noticed. It is yet to be acknowledged, let alone commended. Even the media have failed to herald it with the publicity blitz accorded such revolution in better climes.

    The police have eventually found an answer to the disruption of public peace which plagues our polity, rendering all efforts at good governance a futility and giving our patriotic public officials nightmares.

    Abusing a public official – name calling, sneering, mocking and disparaging – by making remarks the police believe to be uncomplimentary about him or her can cause a breach of the peace, the police have just discovered. Stop such abuses and what do you have? Peace. Peace and peace.

    To test the efficacy of this landmark theory, which has been hailed for its profundity in intellectual circles, the police have bundled Citizen Deji Babington-Ashaye, a Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) supporter, before a magistrate in Abeokuta, the Ogun State capital, charging him with intent to disrupt public order by calling the distinguished Senator Kashamu Buruji “a drug baron and jail breaker”.

    Babington-Ashaye, the police said, conducted himself in a manner that could lead to a breach of peace by using offensive words on Kashamu on a PDP WhatsApp group called “PDP match to victory”. He reportedly committed the said offence between March 13 and 14 at a location opposite the Community High School, Ogere Remo, according to the prosecuting officer, Sunday Eigbejiale, who claimed that the accused also challenged Kashamu to travel to the United States. Babington-Ashaye pleaded not guilty to the charge. He was granted bail and the matter was adjourned till March 30.

    Ever since this matter went to court, there has been peace not only in Ogun East, the constituency of the distinguished senator, but all over the state. Now, people are aware of the grave legal and security implications of “using offensive words” on a public official.

    Apparently confused about the workings of the new formula, which a police source told me would be deployed in all the other 36 states and the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), a student was asking me the other day to explain the connection between the senator’s private and personal peace and that of the state. He asked: “Couldn’t the senator have sued for libel? Is defamation an offence against the state? Is it criminal? How can abusing a senator or any public official spark a breach of peace?”

    Not being a law enforcement officer or a legal expert, I could only try to explain to the fellow how it all began. The National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) actually attempted to seize Kashamu and repatriate him to the United States to, according to the agency, answer for alleged drug offences. Kashamu locked himself in, defended his innocence and screamed that he would rather commit suicide than allow himself to be bundled onto a plane and freighted to the United States.

    The matter went to court and the NDLEA was asked to follow the due process, after it pleaded that it had the right to seize Kashamu and repatriate him to the United States where it said some unnamed accomplices of his had been jailed. The senator said in actual fact there was a case, but it had been tried in Britain and he had been exonerated. I am not the “Alhaji” they are looking for, he told the world. If there was such a person, he was quoted as saying, it was his brother who died and was buried a long time ago.

    Now imagine what havoc would have been caused if the police had allowed Babington-Ashaye’s defamation to stick. Will Kashamu’s constituents allow their distinguished senator’s character to be so hacked in such a merciless manner without rising up in arms? Wouldn’t a war have broken out if the police had not moved that fast?

    Why should Babington- Ashaye call Kashamu a drug baron and expect the police to stay calm, knowing that this could be a serious indictment on the Senate of the Federal Republic of Nigeria if it was allowed to fester?

    Does a citizen’s right to free speech include the right to heap insults on a senator, knowing that such insults could breach the peace? Is it not taking free speech to a ridiculous level when a constituent or any person for that matter, no matter how important, tells a senator where he should travel to?”

    All those senators who have been unjustly maligned can now rejoice. The police, I am told, will soon press this innovation to their service so as to convince those who may think the action against Babington-Ashaye is a flash in the pan.

    To be counted among such lucky lawmakers is distinguished Senator Dino Melaye, who has been lampooned as a spendthrift and an irresponsible man on account of what they call his “inability to keep a decent matrimonial home”. The police, I am sure, know the implication of allowing such a character assassination to go unchallenged.

    What was Melaye’s offence? He expounded a powerful theory that only years of research by social science giants working under the best of conditions could have produced. He said he had discovered that to save the naira, the symbol of our economy, we should not just embrace local goods and services, we should marry “made in Nigeria” women.

    The innuendo, said his critics, was unambiguous. He was accused of disdaining the respected Edo State Comrade Governor Adams Oshiomhole whose charming wife Iara is from Cape Verde.

    Melaye was savaged from all sides. He was reminded of his crashed marriage and what they called his champagne life of wine and women. Peter Okhiria, the governor’s spokesman, hacked him down. He said: “The liberty of free speech guaranteed in the hallowed chambers does not impose lunacy on anyone to disparage other Nigerians. He is a man known for his vainglorious rodomontade and the childish display of his ostentatious lifestyle, which complement his love for foreign items.”

    Okhiria called Melaye “a court jester” who is “tactless”. “We advise that Melaye should mend his ways with his ex-wife and concubines,” he admonished  the senator.

    Now, let’s imagine the police not acting on these scurrilously seditious comments. Won’t the good people of Kogi West, whom the senator represents, rise in defence of their beloved one? Won’t there be a breakdown of law and order?

    A source has just told me of plans to deploy the new formula against those who still deride the distinguished Senator Sani Ahmed Yerima, the former Zamfara State governor, for his conjugal adventure with a girl they still describe as a 13-year-old minor, several years after the ceremony.

    Why refer to a matter that could not be prosecuted even when it was very hot? The other day when the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) brought the former governor to court for allegedly diverting N1 billion meant for the repair of a broken dam, there were suggestions that he should be tried under the Sharia law, which he introduced as governor. The insinuation was not lost. Should Yerima be convicted, he would have his arm chopped off. Yerima’s supporters were enraged. The ICPC officials had to be hustled out of the area by heavily armed security men.

    With the new formula, such an uprising of an otherwise good people provoked by a verbal assault on their dearest one will be prevented and public peace and order will be assured. Not so?

    Just before the Rivers State rerun, Governor Nyesom Wike was being disparaged as one who rode to power on broken limbs, his election a blot on the political landscape. He swam onto the seat in the blood of innocent people, some said. Others, who obviously are His Excellency’s bitter political opponents, were just short of describing him in such sacrilegious terms as “a cultist” and “father of militants”, particularly when a man was beaten up and burnt alive.

    Sending some of those suspected to have launched such verbal assaults  before a magistrate will surely ensure that the peace so much desired by all is installed.

    Nor should Ekiti State Governor Ayo Fayose bother any more about those who describe him as a “former bus conductor”,  “stunts man” and “failed chicken farmer”, and his popular “stomach infrastructure” policy  a mere deceit. The law will now take care of such felonies.

    For two weeks, the social media have been awash with the news that Kaduna State Governor Nasir El-Rufai slapped his deputy, Mr Bala Bantek. His Excellency said yesterday that it was all lies.

    The aim of this “wicked’ rumour”, obviously, was to disrupt the state’s peace, which the law on illegal preaching is supposed to keep and distract His Excellency from his interesting spar with Senator Shehu Sani. Has any governor ever slapped his deputy? The purveyors of this seditious rumour, I am told, will soon be taken before a magistrate.

    Now watch out, all those whose pastime is to ridicule our public officials in the social media – Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, BlackBerry and others – there will be no hiding place any more. The police will be busy combing such sites for deriding comments on public officials which can cause a breach of peace.

    Ever seen a more revolutionary crime prevention device?

  • More jives, no jabs please

    More jives, no jabs please

    If a test of service integrity is conducted among our leading politicians, many will pass in flying colours – if the examiners are objective. I talk of a test that is complete in all ramifications, not the controversial Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME) in which candidates who never stepped into the examination hall hauled in huge marks and many who sweated it out before erratic computers were awarded various marks at various times for one examination, a situation that has now resulted in violent street protests. No.

    Long before those fellows who hide under the deceitful nomenclature of  “public affairs analyst” or “social critic” to deride and scorn them as parasites and  buffoons thought of the essence of “service”, our politicians had been doing their beat. To them, service is not just a matter of building roads, hospitals and schools. There must also be what has been well celebrated in Ekiti State as “stomach infrastructure”, the unique policy in which governance is seen as a tool in catering for the people’s culinary cravings, which eventually leads to vote harvesting at the ballot. I am told that so successful is the policy that every Ekiti resident now sports a pot belly and chubby cheeks, which were hitherto the exclusive preserve of the rich and members of their families. Needless to say, Governor Ayodele Fayose remains a die-hard apostle of this policy.

    Politicians know also that the people must be thrilled from time to time. It is, after all, not for nothing that we –against all odds – have been ranked among the world’s happiest people. But, as I said, our politicians are abused and denounced as corrupt and lazy. That is all they get for their physical and mental exertions to make Nigeria the paradise we all dream of.

    Those idlers, the critics of whom I had spoken, instead of encouraging the people to be grateful to those who have elected to serve us, actually rally them to probe into their meagre earnings, forgetting that some of these politicians quit their flourishing businesses to serve, following the massive demand by their electorate.

    Consider the case of the distinguished Senator Dino Melaye, who represents the good people of Kogi West. The other day on the floor of the hallowed chamber, he expounded a powerful theory that only years of research by social science giants working under the best of conditions could have produced. He said he had discovered that to save the naira, the symbol of our economy, we should not just embrace local goods and services, we should marry “made in Nigeria” women.

    The innuendo was electrifying in its effect. He was accused of disdaining the respected Edo State Comrade Governor Adams Oshiomhole whose charming wife Iara is from Cape Verde.

    Melaye became a punching bag, so much so that he, at the end of it all, was like a Sport Utility Vehicle (SUV) that crashed on the highway after a burst tyre. He was pilloried as irresponsible, an attribute they ascribed to what they described as his inability to maintain a “decent matrimonial home” and seeing women as mere goods to be purchased off the shelves and shipped home. Women activists were enraged.

    The senator became a subject of scurrilous attacks. Peter Okhiria, the governor’s spokesman, literally eviscerated the senator. He said: “The liberty of free speech guaranteed in the hallowed chambers does not impose lunacy on anyone to disparage other Nigerians. He is a man known for his vainglorious rodomontade and the childish display of his ostentatious lifestyle, which complement his love for foreign items.”

    Okhiria called Melaye “a court jester” who is “tactless”. “We advise that Melaye should mend his ways with his ex-wife and concubines,” he admonished  the senator. As of the time of writing this, it was unclear if the senator had taken this advice, but there has been a rehash of the stories of his crashed marriage, his row with an actress who held him responsible for her pregnancy and his vulgar display of  his exotic cars on Facebook.

         Punch-drunk and subdued, Melaye simply asked his traducers to be patient. “When I’m ready, una go see my made in Nigeria wife,” he said.

    Another patriotic senator also got into trouble for propounding a theory he had thought should earn him accolades. Senate Leader Ali Ndume (Borno State), contributing to a motion presented by Senator Oluremi Tinubu (Lagos Central), urging the Federal Government to rescue the Chibok girls and guarantee the safety of pupils, especially girls, said men should marry more wives.

    “As a sign of respect and love for women, I urge all men, unless their religion prohibits it, to marry more than one wife,” he said with remarkable flourish. His prayer, as serious as it was, was turned down by the Senate even after it had been seconded by another distinguished senator, Sulaiman Nazif (Bauchi State). Binta Garba (Adamawa North) kicked. To her, it was all an attempt by philanderers who see women as “sex objects” to push their views. Needless to say, the chamber was gripped by a strange excitement as the matter took on a salacious garb. On the social media, many recalled how Senator Shehu Sani (Kaduna Central) declared his two wives as part of his assets.

    Ndume, you may wish to recall, had earlier defended the Senate’s plan to buy N4.7b cars for their oversight duties, saying the distinguished men and women were “too important” to be conveyed in buses, as suggested by some inconsiderate constituents who do not appreciate the rigours of making laws for the advancement of our complex society – an arduous task that attracts little remuneration and big recriminations.

    Outside the chamber, there have also been fireworks ahead of Saturday’s rerun in Rivers State. Governor Nyesom Wike and his arch-enemy, Transportation Minister Chibuike Rotimi Amaechi, have been hurling invectives at each other.

    Amaechi has just let us into  a secret; what he says is the worse decision of his life – recommending Wike, his former Chief of Staff and fellow Ikwerre man, for a ministerial appointment. He accuses Wike of corruption and association with cultists and militants who, says the minister, are hibernating in the Government House. Not to be outdone, Wike replied, saying Amaechi ran a dizzyingly corrupt government and that he had been indicted.

    Now, Wike has written to the United States, the United Kingdom, China and some other countries, imploring them to ensure that Saturday’s local elections are free and fair.

    Some of the other things the duo said in pushing their cases I dare not state here, this being a family newspaper and for decency. But one question remains: who will pay for the numerous lives lost in this state where some families have been wiped out and people burnt alive? Wike insists that the killings are cult-related. Amaechi and his fellow All Progressives Congress (APC) members maintain that they are political.

    After a long silence, former Deputy Senate President Ibrahim Mantu has succeeded in grabbing the headlines again. He says he regrets not laying down his life to get former President Olusegun Obasanjo a third term. His excuse is that it would have been in the nation’s greatest interest. “We never envisaged we would be here. Since Obasanjo left, the way this country has been run up to this moment, I weep for Nigeria,” Mantu told Premium Times.

    Instead of praising Mantu’s forthrightness, some busybodies have told him to watch his tongue, asking:”Where were you when Obasanjo said he never wanted a third term and that if he had desired it, God would have put it on his laps?”

    Dear Senator Mantu, there is no need to weep. Now we know the truth about third term.

    Senator Sani has accused Kaduna State Governor Nasir El-Rufai of  “thinking of removing President Muhammadu Buhari”. “It would be counter-productive for the governor to start thinking of evicting Buhari in 2019 . El-Rufai should do his job and stop putting his eyes on the presidency,” Sani told “The Interview” magazine.

    Sani accused El-Rufai of ruling like an “emperor”, promising to give him “war or peace, whichever he chooses”. The governor is yet to reply the senator.

    It is so easy to get angry nowadays. A bad economy, no doubt, can put everyone on edge and breed a deep bellicosity. But then, we shouldn’t lose our sense of appreciation of  the fact that our politicians are masters when it comes to enlivening a depressed situation.

  • Hot vacancies

    Hot vacancies

    Let us get it right from the outset; this is not about those fake jobs advertised by genuine scammers in high places and other predators who have taken advantage of the harsh economic climate to fleece our large army of traumatised job seekers. No.

    Nor is this about the multitudes many thought the Muhammadu Buhari administration was planning to put on the monthly N5,000 dole. The government has explained that the handout is for the extremely poor, among who many are ready to be counted. It is also not about the 23,000 ghost workers just yanked off the Federal payroll. Not at all.

    Well, this is all about some critical vacancies suddenly thrown open in some sensitive jobs by some critical circumstances. The news broke last weekend that the sensational lifestyle of a weird Lagos church leader had collapsed at the hangman’s door. Dr Chukwuemeka Ezeugo (Rev. King – to his followers) of the Christian Praying Assembly failed to get the Supreme Court to reverse the sentence passed on him by the lower courts for killing Ann Uzoh, one of his congregants, who he doused with petrol and set on fire for alleged fornication. The bizarre life of the charlatan is the stuff of a great work of fiction – blasphemy (he called himself God), blood (he struck his followers at will) and sex (women served him food naked) – but the shame of it all is that it is real.

    Who succeeds Rev. King as  the leader of this strange Assembly?

    Rev. King’s date with the hangman may take a while to come. The Prisons are short of hangmen. There are no fewer than 1,639 inmates awaiting execution, a report said, quoting Prisons spokesman Francis Emordi. This piece of information has sparked a lot of postulations about the mysteries and mysticism of the hangman and his morbid vocation.

    Why are we short of hangmen when the tribe of devilish criminals is swelling? Are people not applying? If this sensitive job is advertised, will there be a sea of people trying to get in? In other words, can we expect a stampede as we had in the 2014 Immigration jobs fiasco in which 19 applicants died? What are the qualifications for the job? School Certificate? First Degree? In which field? What is the pay like? What kind of feeling will an appointment as a hangman evoke? Joy? Introspection? Cynicism? Power? Domination?

    How does a hangman relate to his family members, associates and colleagues? Does he go to church or mosque to worship and make supplications for a fine day at work? To him, what makes a good day; the number of times the gallows crank? Does he have a sense of humour, cracking jokes and laughing heartily? Does he cry?  Could he be a party freak? Is he proud of his job? Will he tell his loved ones about his job or swear to an oath of eternal secrecy? Is there a code of conduct for hangmen? What kind of heart do they have? Do they also think about death? Do they require any special training for their job? Who trains the hangman? Where does he train? Home? Abroad? Would anybody love to read the autobiography of a hangman?

    Opponents of the death sentence will be happy to know that we lack enough hands for this morbid but important job in the delicate chain of justice. Besides, we are told that the list of those waiting to see the hangman is long because governors are not keen on signing death warrants, at least not as speedily as they sign Certificates of Occupancy (CofOs). Why do governors delay this task after their Lordships have made their pronouncements? Who gains from such foot dragging? How does a death row inmate feel? Whenever he eats, does he have the feeling the meal may be his last? What goes on in the mind of a death row inmate?

    It is really not clear why the Prisons authorities have not hired more hangmen? Now it has taken the sentencing of a wayward preacher of a jaundiced message to force an audit of hangmen. Anybody for this job?

    We need also a coach for the Super Eagles, our wavering national soccer team. Something told me that Sunday Oliseh wasn’t going to last on the job, which he took on July 15, last year. His legendary temper, the unrepentant Nigeria Football Federation (NFF), pompous players and a system that stifles creativity and rewards mediocrity, I knew, would combine to undo him.

    Before him was Stephen Okechukwu Keshi, the one with the imperious nickname, “Big Boss”, who threw in the towel in South Africa after winning the Cup of Nations in 2013. He was ready to ditch the team until he got direct access to former President Goodluck Jonathan. In no time, the team’s fortune dwindled, even as his relationship with the authorities crashed. Keshi had to go, eventually.

    Oliseh, youthful and boastful,vowed to revive the team. Under him, the Eagles played 13 matches, won six, drew five and lost two.

    He brooded no excuses for lateness to camp and felt no qualms having a spat with his players. Goalie Vincent Enyeama got lashed for coming late to camp, his plea that he had gone to honour his late mum cut no ice with the coach who gave him the push. Then he went on a long break (he was rumoured to be ill), returned and led the Super Eagles to Rwanda for the CHAN. After claiming to have spent his money feeding the players, he gave the NFF a piece of his razor- sharp tongue. He said his critics were insane – to the shock of many decent Nigerians who follow football with a unique passion.

    Unable to take it anymore, the NFF wielded the axe but before it could land it  on the coach’s head, the minister stepped in, waving the olive branch. Saved by the bell, Oliseh apologised to his employers. Then the fireworks subsided. But the smart guy knew he was in injury time; bosses hardly forget even if they forgive. So, in a dramatic manner that dazed the NFF chiefs, Oliseh quit the job after collecting his outstanding N20m pay. Left in the cold, the NFF drafted in Samson Siasia to a job from which he was unceremoniously disengaged in 2012.

    The NFF has launched a desperate search for a coach. Considering how many soccer giants who got it ended it all in an acrimonious manner, one is tempted to ask: Is this job jinxed?

    Also vacant is the chairmanship seat of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), the one that used to call itself the biggest in Africa. Former Borno State Governor Ali Modu Sheriff is perching on it in acting capacity after a rancorous choice that was a little better than picking a motor park chairman – no guns, knives, cutlasses and axes; just verbal assaults and tantrums by those who claim to love the party.

    Goaded on by some governors, Sheriff, like a shipwrecked sailor clinging to a spar, has been battling to retain the seat. Still unable to consolidate his position, he has sent President Muhammadu Buhari a quit notice, threatening that PDP is coming back to power. He was said to have had former President Goodluck Jonathan – he was almost distracted from the lecture circuit to join the fray- in his corner, but Jonathan’s former ministers would not let him be. Sheriff was described in many unflattering terms. Femi Fani-Kayode (I take that back; he is now Olukayode) said the former governor had bewitched the PDP and called his imposition an “abominable monstrosity”. The former minister, a garrulous fellow and master of diatribes, called Sheriff the father of Boko Haram. Now the duo are threatening to meet in court. I have booked a front row seat.

    Considering the fate that befell some former chairmen of the PDP, how noble is this job that some are dying to get? Sheriff has agreed to surrender the seat in three months. Who grabs the trophy?

    ESE ORURU AND THE ABDUCTED LAGOS PUPILS

    Just as the curtain was being drawn on the Ese Oruru saga, the news of the abduction of three girls from the Babington Macaulay Junior Seminary (BMJS) in Ikorodu on the outskirts of Lagos hit the airwaves. Ese, 14, was taken from her Bayelsa home and ferried to Kano, converted to Islam and married by Dahiru Yunusa (aka Yellow), one of her mum’s customers. There may be many other girls who fell into such a horrendous fate, locked up somewhere, never to be seen again by their parents. This is why Yunusa and his accomplices (Dan Kano et al) should be prosecuted.

    The kidnap of the BMJS girls brings back memories of the Chibok girls, who were snatched off their hostels on April 14, 2014. The recovery of the victims will surely rekindle the hope that the Chibok girls will be found – someday. The Ikorodu incident is a major distraction and a challenge for the security agencies. It is reassuring that the state government, which has invested so much in security, has vowed to get the abductors. We are all praying that the kids are back – hale and hearty. The key lesson here is that security is everybody’s job. We should be vigilant.

     

  • A revised Electoral Manual

    A revised Electoral Manual

    The Nigerian political scene is a pundit’s nightmare, with its immense capacity to shock. Consider the Ekiti State scenario. Many months after we all had concluded that the governorship election had been won and lost, a fellow showed up on television the other day to spill the beans, relaying graphic details of the plot that gave Ayo Fayose the governorship mantle. It all sounded so incredible, like a story in the hands of a master fiction writer, but the Fayose camp, which could have debunked Tope Aluko’s facts and figures, abandoned the message and went after the messenger. Now, the author of “the Great Confession” says his life is under threat.

    More shocks were to follow, with the Supreme Court nullifying the positions of the lower courts in the Rivers, Akwa Ibom and Taraba governorship elections, among others. Many politicians, exasperated and perplexed by their perception of justice in contradistinction to judgment, have contacted “Editorial Notebook” for advice, paving the way for that bestseller, “An electoral Manual”, which has been revised at least twice, to undergo another makeover.

    Here then is another revised edition of the manual, which will, no doubt, be of great help to those who intend not just to contest an election but to win and defend their hard earned victory.

    Always remember that every election is a war. You need an army of yours – well funded. If you have a President who cares little about the  ambush-and-finish-off politics that is common here, the better for you. The Armed Forces will simply look the other way as your troops make mincemeat of your opponents on the eve of the election.

    How? Simple. Get your boys (your opponents will scorn them as thugs and roughnecks and bad boys and criminals and hoodlums; never mind; the end, as they say, justifies the means) to visit the homes of some key members of the opposing party, fire some shots and spill as much blood as possible. You will be surprised that the next day, only a few stubborn supporters of your  opponents will have the guts to come out for voting.

    The field is, automatically, open for you and all your agents to manipulate the accreditation – card reader or no card reader–, stuff the ballot and award the votes in the score forms you must have kept in a secure place for this great day. Some of your opponent’s supporters will complain that the card reader is not working and, in frustration, walk away. Better for you.

    At the end of it all, reporters will seek your view on the exercise. You will, of course, praise it as the best in recent times. “Kudos to INEC; they have really improved. Materials arrived early and accreditation was orderly. Voting was peaceful,” you will tell the nosey fellows.

    Your opponent will cry like a baby whose lollipop has been snatched by an inconsiderate elderly fellow. He will scream murder and say that the ballot was rigged and that his supporters were murdered. Be calm.

    In no time, the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) will declare you winner of the election. Your opponent will, naturally, disagree. His supporters will mount some street protests and malign INEC and its ever-dutiful officials, who will, of course, stand their ground and ask the aggrieved party to go to the tribunal – the only organ that can change the verdict.

    Go to church for thanksgiving and testify to how faithful the Almighty has been to you. After you have been sworn in as governor, do not abandon the path of rectitude. Go from one church to another, praying for victory in the upcoming legal battles. Your opponents will say you have turned yourself into a prayer project as Pentecostal giants lay hands on your balding head. Never mind. All is well.

    Then build up an unassailable war chest. Get the House of Assembly to approve that you borrow some billions – for what you will call some esoteric names, such as “Operation Zero Tolerance for Potholes” and “No More Refuse”. Critics, those idle fellows who abuse the rights of others by insisting that all behaviours must conform with their narrow standards, will call you reckless and spendthrift. Don’t reply. Afterall, the House is behind you.

    Head for Abuja to tidy up that end. Then there will be so much noise about you being found loitering around the office of the Chief Justice. Yes. Don’t you have the right to movement? Isn’t that office a public place? Don’t you have some issues the CJN ought to have settled and what is wrong in a reminder?

    Go back home and get set for the tribunal. You can cause panic in the camp of your opponent by threatening to unleash on the tribunal 10,000 witnesses who will testify that your election was free, fair and credible.

    Hire an army of good lawyers, those called SANs, who will storm the tribunal with facts and figures and summon witnesses to swear that you were indeed the people’s choice. Your opponent may call hundreds of witnesses; don’t be intimidated. If you can get 10, that is okay.

    At the end of it all, the tribunal may, in its limited wisdom, call your witnesses a bunch of liars and declare that you failed to prove beyond doubt that the trophy was rightly handed over to you and that a new election should be organised within 90 days. Don’t be downcast. Reject the judgment and head for the court of Appeal.  It is, after all, a marathon and not a dash.

    The SANs, aforementioned, will rise to condemn the tribunal and tell the court how it erred in law a thousand times to nullify your election, how it failed to prove that you cheated, how you perpetrated no violence (even if there was violence, weren’t you and your supporters the victims?), how some of your votes were unjustly cancelled and how you believe the court will play its role as the last hope of the common man by restoring the mandate , which thousands of your people freely gave you.

    But a note of caution: even the best of lawyers know that Homo proponit sed Deus disponit (that is to say, “man proposes, God disposes”). The Court of Appeal may find no merit in your lawyers’ fine arguments, their marvelous erudition and impeccable logic. “The appellant has not convinced this court that his case has merit and the appeal fails and I so declare,” His Lordship may say.

    Be courageous. Nothing good comes easy. To the Supreme Court you head. Again, your lawyers will deliver your case, deploying all manner of syllogisms, obfuscations and verbosity to impress their Lordships. By now, your opponent and his supporters should be thinking that it is all over, signed, sealed and waiting to be delivered. But for you, it has just begun. Go round and throw in everything.

    Thereafter, relax. You can even boast a little by saying you are sure the Supreme Court will right all the wrongs against you. After all, by now, you know what many do not know- that not all legal battles are won in the court room. Tell your supporters to get set for a carnival.

    To the consternation of all, including your opponents and all those legal giants who had predicted your fall, the Supreme Court will pronounce your election  valid.

    It will say that the card reader, one of the  planks on which your opponent’s case was built, is a stranger to the Electoral Act and that he failed to prove the allegation of rigging as he did not bring witnesses from all the polling units where the so-called irregularities took place.

    Besides, the eminent jurists will say the allegation of violence holds no water. Where are the victims who claimed to have had their heads smashed? People died; yes, but where is the proof? How many died and where are their death certificates, which must be authenticated by a certified forensic expert. Where are the doctors, nurses, morgue attendants, ambulance drivers and all others who can help the court determine that indeed there was violence? Was the violence substantial enough to affect the outcome of  the election? Whose fault?

    These allegations are criminal and must be proven beyond reasonable doubt. The court cannot do this for the party making the allegations as it is trite in law that El incumbit probation qui dicit, non qui negat. That is to say “he who asserts must prove”.

    Disenfranchisement? This allegation must also be proven polling unit by polling unit and the police report must be consistent with that of the witnesses.

    Now you can mount a road show, revealing how the long and tortuous journey ended the way it did. At a thanksgiving service, you can dance, raise  your hands and sing:

    He has given me victory, I will lift Him higher

    Jehovah, I will lift Him higher

    The Lord has given me victory, I will lift  Him higher,

    Jehovah, I will lift Him higher

    You can then reveal how you have enjoyed the fruits of obedience, how an elder statesman would wake you up at night and tell you who to visit and you obeyed without questions. “I took all the advice and here we are today,” you will gleefully tell your excited audience. Applause. Applause.

    Your opponents will claim that, going by your utterances, you had foreknowledge of the judgment. In fact, some people will say that you “climbed onto the governor’s seat over bodies” and that you swam in blood to the Government House. Such hyperboles are common at  times like these. Just ignore them all.

    If you have suspended any member of your team who you are afraid could spill the beans, as Aluko did, quickly recall the fellow.

    So dear all, “here we are”. One more word. All rights reserved. No part of this manual may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the permission of the copyright holder.

  • The Yerima Solution

    The Yerima Solution

    He is not known to possess some thespian talents. Neither is he a showbiz impresario. But, let’s concede it to Senator Ahmed Rufai Sani (Yerima Bakura- to his army of admirers): he pulled off what is, arguably, the biggest show ever in Zamfara State when as governor he launched the strict Islamic law, Sharia.

    Some flashback. A sea of people flooded the streets of Gusau, screaming Allah akbar (God is great) on January27, 2000 when His Excellency introduced the Sharia. The atmosphere was electric, gripping everyone, including those who did not understand what it was all about and those who saw it all as a religious revolution, which will revolutionise all other things. People were dancing and sweating, jumping and yelling, throwing their hands in the air as if a new king was being enthroned. It was magical.

    Buba Jangebe (remember him?) made history when he had the honour of becoming the first man to be punished under the sharia. His right hand was amputated for stealing a cow. As he was being led away to face his punishment, Jangebe was all smiles – to the amazement of the throbbing crowd of anxious folks who had gathered to be part of history. Why? As he later said in an interview, he had a profound inner joy that found expression in his face that was wreathed in smiles – that a 12-year career as a thief had ended. Besides, he said he was happy earning a honest living as a messenger in a secondary school in his hometown of Jengebe.

    “When I was a thief, there were lots of problems; there was no money. I had no peace. At that time, my relatives deserted me. They were afraid of me,” Jangebe said.

    Two other convicts who had their hands chopped off were rehabilitated later after a passionate appeal to Yerima, who was no longer the governor. Bello Buba, who stole a cow, got N500,000 to start cow rearing, thus fulfilling a life-long ambition. Wali Isa, who confessed to stealing bicycles, became a cement merchant in 2012. Lucky guys.

    Did these cases foreshadow what was to come later? I really can’t tell, but Yerima himself was on January 21 docked at a Zamfara High Court, charged with alleged diversion of a N1b loan meant for the repair of the Gusua Dam in 2006. He pleaded not guilty, saying the expenditure was approved by the House. The crowd at the court premises was hostile. Officials of the prosecuting Independent Corrupt Practices and other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) were lucky to have escaped the scene alive.

    Why the mob? Were they protesting that Sani was not brought before a sharia court? Could His Excellency have preferred a sharia court to the high court? What punishment does the offence carry in a sharia court – amputation of one arm or both? Was it all politics? Or an attempt to vault politics into the hallowed temple of justice? I really could not tell.

    Yerima’s is just one of the legion of cases the courts are hearing. They involve many prominent citizens, including former National Security Adviser (NSA) Sambo Dasuki, who is accused of turning his office into a cash machine for politicians, Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) spokesman Olisa Metuh, whose appearance in handcuffs evoked a barrage of criticisms and former PDP Chair Haliru Bello Mohammed, who was wheeled to the court from a hospital. Besides, there are many suspects. Some are in school; others are in hospitals.

    The sheer magnitude of the scandals has triggered a frenzy of rage, with many warning that the rule of law should not be deployed by the accused to obfuscate   facts and figures, bamboozle the judiciary, forge an escape route, bridle it all and live happily ever after. But some insist that no matter the enormity of the infractions the accused are said to have committed, they remain innocent, until proven otherwise and, going by this legal trite, deserve to enjoy their human rights unhindered.

    Those of the latter school of thought are not as vociferous as those who, as some critics put it, have been stricken by a strange mob mentality. We understand. There is so much bitterness in the land – that a few politicians have dipped their hands in the till, taking so much for even the blind to have noticed and never knowing when to pull the brakes on their lethal action.

    To former All Progressives Congress (APC) interim Chairman Chief Bisi Akande, “corrupt people do not deserve bail because they are murderers”. He told his interviewers syllogistically: “Our Constitution says that murderers must not be let off the hook until judgment is passed. So what do you mean by the rule of law? It’s a matter of interpretation. You can say the man who used cutlass to kill is direct. The one who used corruption to kill is indirect. Killing is killing. So a corrupt man is a murderer… .”

    A newspaper screamed: “Reps may consider hanging for treasury looters.” House of Reps Minority Whip Umar Yakubu, who represents Chikun/Kajuru Federal Constituency in Kaduna State, was quoted as saying that some members were planning to push for a law that will prescribe a visit to the hangman for treasury looters. His logic is that if people go to jail for stealing N1000, treasury looters do not deserve to live.

    “If you ask me, I will tell you that if someone steals fromN1m to N100m, he or she should have his hand cut off … so that when we see you on the street we know that you stole… and those who steal in billions should be hanged,” he said.

    As it is usual in situations of this nature, the debate has given rise to an army of charlatans posing as legal experts and pontificating about what they have described as the complexities of our jurisprudence.  Besides, many – apparently out of sheer tetchiness – have voted for the Yerima Solution.

    But there is a problem. If we decide to cut off hands, how many of our lawmakers, our elected representatives who will never allow us a mere peep into their pay packet, will keep theirs? With so many big men carrying chopped hands, won’t we unknowingly be creating a huge market for German pyrotechnics (artificial limbs) manufacturers and, by so doing, frittering away the scarce foreign exchange we are battling to conserve and making nonsense of the Central Bank’s foolproof policy, which a reliable source told me will soon make our foreign reserve the envy of those so-called industrialised countries?  Won’t we? If we cut off hands, won’t those proponents of sharia mock its opponents, saying: You said our sharia was political; what do we call yours now?

    What if a man chooses to die rather than have his hand cut off, will the state grant him the luxury of choice? Will two hands be cut off? Or just one? How much will it cost us to import the guillotines for this delicate job? Who will get the contracts? Will local manufacturers be encouraged? Do we have enough experts for this crucial vocation? What if they join the labour unions and decide to go on strike; who does the job? How much will the guillotine man be paid? What will be his qualification – OND, HND, MBBS, B.Sc.,WASCE?

    Besides the self-proclaimed legal experts to whom I had earlier referred, there are those who see the development as an opportunity to laugh at the Nigerian condition – the greed of our leaders and the incivility of our compatriots. Consider this, which appeared on this page a long time ago. A friend has just rebroadcast it:

    “Japan invented a machine that catches thieves. They took it to several countries for a test. In the US, it caught 20 thieves in 30 minutes; in the UK, in 30 minutes it caught 500 thieves and in Spain, in 20 minutes, it caught 25 thieves. In Ghana, in 10 minutes, it caught 6,000 thieves; Uganda, in seven minutes it caught 20,000 thieves and in Nigeria, in five minutes, the machine was stolen.”

    There is really no need for extremism; the law will take care of the crisis, but the actors need to be fair and firm.

       OLUWOLE DAVIDSON AKOJA (1960 – 2016)

    It has been cascading tears from the great hills of Okeagbe since January 22 when a golden boy of the land suddenly took the final bow. He had a surgery but there was no sign he was at death’s door. No. Women have been crying, the elderly have been shaking their heads in utter bewilderment and the youth have been wondering why Oluwole Davidson Akoja had to depart so soon – and suddenly so.

    He was not so rich but giving was just part of him; he always had a boisterous laughter that rang out at the least provocation; he had access to resources but his integrity was never in doubt; little wonder he rose through the ranks to become a deputy director at the National Sports Commission.

    Farewell, “Ewenla”, “Ewe Show”, my worthy  classmate at Ajuwa Grammar School, Okeagbe – Akoko, Ondo State and a great fan – and sparring partner – of “Editorial Notebook”. Irewole Bamisile. Samuel ‘Olege’ Gbadebo, Kehinde Omoegun, Ojo ‘Oji Soccer’Adegoke, Ogunyinka Olasebikan, Clement Tunji Ojo and all the other patriots who left us. Greet them all. Should the hereafter permit sports, I am sure you will raise a damn good team in any of the games.

    Good night, my brother.

  • And the winners are…

    And the winners are…

    At the last instalment of this column, I promised that more awards were on the way. So many things would have made that promise a mere promise – armsgate, crashing oil price and the naira’s fate, Lassa and the other fevers as well as insecurity – but “Editorial Notebook” will always be as good as its word.

    Some readers have complained that their favourites were left out of the awards. Others have requested that the scope be expanded to include all manner of headings, some of them highly inspiring, others plainly puerile and pedestrian.

    The story is told of a flamboyant traditional ruler, who is fond of decking the rich and powerful with titles. Desperate to honour a prominent citizen, he tells his chiefs to suggest a title for the would-be recipient. “Kabiyesi (Your Majesty),” says a chief, “there are no more titles (Oye ti tan)”. The king smiles. “You got it; brilliant; that is the title for our man; Chief Oyetan.”

    So, here, dear reader, are the other awards – as promised:

    There was no sign that what has now turned out to be one of the most convoluted electoral jigsaws of our time was on the way as the November 21 Kogi State governorship election progressed. The All Progressives Congress (APC) was heading for victory. Suddenly, a natural complication supervened. Abubakar Audu, the APC candidate, died. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) declared the election inconclusive and ordered that a supplementary election be held in some polling stations, even as the result could never have altered the fact that the APC’s lead was unassailable.

    The Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) – the one that threatened to trouble Nigeria for 60 years before its evil plot was dismantled by an uncommon popular will – said since Audu had died, the trophy was naturally its own. Many legal giants and ardent subscribers to the fine tenets of democracy said Abiodun Faleke, Audu’s running mate, should naturally step into his shoes.

    While the debate was on, John Odigie-Oyegun (A fellow asked me the other day: ‘Is this the Oyegun of the NADECO days?’), a chief and chairman of the APC, suddenly muscled his way into the debate and announced a new candidate for the party. Then, a flood of diatribes hit Oyegun. He was harangued like a Lagos pickpocket, tongue lashed for, according to his traducers, lacking in courage and principle, being remote-controlled and a poodle.

    A timid chairman, shoved so roughly like a leaf at the mercy of the waves, would have thrown in the towel – in defence of his integrity. Not so Oyegun. He even found time to pontificate about party supremacy and such inanities.

    For his courage, Oyegun is Party Chairman of the Year.

    Yahaya Bello, who claims to be Faleke’s friend, had left the party in anger after failing to get its ticket. He was said to have worked against the APC during the election, which the party lost in his ward, and was ruminating on his future when he hit the jackpot. Oyegun handed him the ticket for the supplementary election. He jumped for joy and went into the exercise without a running mate – against the Electoral Act. INEC, expectedly, pronounced him winner of the election.

    Yahaya is on the way to becoming our first “supplementary governor”, the one who grabbed a ticket long after the election had been won and got pronounced winner. He is, no doubt, the Candidate of the Year.

    His feat became the subject of academic postulations and legal permutations in newsrooms, restrooms and staffrooms. Of all the commentators, Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon stood out. He said of Audu’s passing and Yahaya’s victory: “The tragic passing of Prince Abubakar Audu has polarised the nation into political jingoism. Death is a bugaboo and life terminus. May his soul rest in unblemished peace.

    “The quagmire and triviality has further obfuscated the scantiness and paraplegic crinkum crankum of our constitution. Our knowledge centura is enveloped in Einstein cubbyhole. The optate of Mr Bello is Godwin’s law and this has adjudicated the social disequilibrium and political phantasmagoria among the indignant of Kogites. It is my emblem pleasure to congratulate the governor-elect. This is saucier to our youths’ agitation for power. I am manically bewildered, overgasted and flabberwhelmed at the causal rejectal dismal of Mr Bello. This should be buried in a Bermuda triangle instantaneously. The modus operandi of the young man is gargantuan and sui-generis.”

    Step forward, Hon Obahiagbon, Chief of Staff to the Comrade – Governor of Edo, Adams Oshiomhole. The prize for Informed Commentator of the Year is yours.

    Before he was drafted in, former President Goodluck Ebele Azikiwe Jonathan’s campaign was floundering, lacking in strategy and focus. Femi Fani-Kayode (sorry, a slip there; he is now known and addressed as Olukayode in, according to him, recognition of God’s hand in his discharge from money laundering charges) revved the engine and the campaign came alive. President Muhammadu Buhari, the then APC candidate, was said not to have a School Certificate. The military, in an unprecedented foray into partisan politics and its stench, was suborned to declare his documents missing. A fake report on his health was obtained. It was a smear campaign at its most vicious. Goebbels was in town.

    Olukayode put the APC on the defensive. Even after it was as clear as crystal that Jonathan had lost the battle, the spokesman went on television to say his man was leading and that any attempt to turn the table would be resisted. Never one to be suppressed, Olukayode, as if stricken by some strange verbal fever, now screams all over the place that he knew nothing of the allegedly diverted $2.1b arms cash.

    But, fair is fair. Fani-Kayode (again, my apology; Olukayode) is Spokesman of the Year.

    Until recently, it was not really a popular opinion that the Jonathan administration had damaged the economy. There were all manner of scatterbrained programmes that guzzled money like a gaming machine – SURE-P, You Win I win and many others that represented what many called the profligacy of that time. Nigerians grumbled as their stomachs rumbled with hunger. But, the government went into its deep bag of tricks and whipped out another nebulous  programme, which it called “rebasing” , and proclaimed our economy the biggest in Africa even as many went to bed hungry and angry. For the power of her imagination and sheer confidence even in the face of cold facts and figures that showed that the economy was in trouble, Dr Ngozi Okonjo – Iweala (some call her wahala (trouble in Yoruba) should have taken the trophy for Minister of the Year. But will that be fair?

    When all the other members of the Jonathan cabinet had jumped ship as it was glaring that the election had been lost, only one man stood sentry. He played the last joker, which somehow failed to work. Elder Godsday Orubebe, a black hat perching on his head, grabbed the microphone, screaming and swearing, in a desperate show of defiance to stop the announcement of the presidential election results. The then INEC chief, Attahiru Jega, was unperturbed. The business of the day went on and Orubebe became the subject of beer parlour jokes.

    One of such jokes was that no woman would like to marry Jega because “if you shout at him, he won’t just talk”.

    Another: “A new word has been added to the political lexicon, Orubebe. The meaning: To attempt to disrupt a peaceful process. Orubebed (past tense). Orubebeing (present continuous tense). Example : An elder is trying to orubebe the parliament’s plan to pass the Electoral Act, which will criminalise threats to a Returning Officer.”

    The police never questioned the former Minister of the Niger Delta for what many saw as a criminal offence. For his rare tenacity in the face of defeat, Orubebe is Minister of the Year.

    Joseph Mbu (remember him?) was police commissioner in Rivers State in those turbulent days of the Rotimi Amaechi administration. He banned street protests. Those who dared to protest were hit with rubber bullets and tear gas. When eight lawmakers in a 32-man House attempted to impeach the governor, Mbu’s men were there to give them cover. Mbu was later to say gleefully that he tamed the ‘lion of Rivers’. For his notoriety, he was famous – perhaps more than the Inspector-General.

    His critics called him a politician in uniform. He insisted that he was a professional doing his job. Mbu offered a big comical relief amid the pains of those troubled days. He is Policeman of the Year.

    Raymond Alegho Dokpesi, founder of  Africa Independent Television (AIT) / Raypower FM is alleged to have collected N2.1b from the Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA) for unstated reasons. He insists it was for media and publicity. But the authorities are asking: where is the paper on which the contract was signed? But high chief insists that when he brought the proposal to former President Goodluck Jonathan, former Vice President Namadi Sambo (where in the world is he?) was present. Besides, he recently said scornfully that the whole arms cash story was a hoax, which he is eager to prove in court. No doubt, that is the Contract of the Year.

    It is perhaps the most expensive item to have come out of any bakery. Despite a N5b input, the stuff remains in the oven. The man behind it all, needless to say, has taken his expertise elsewhere onto a bigger stage. No prize for guessing right – the cassava bread takes the biggest prize in business. It is the Product of the Year.

    So long.

  • And the winners are…

    And the winners are…

    YOU can accuse Nigerians of harbouring a large army of tricksters, pranksters and fraudsters to whom corruption, bad leadership, poor followership and poverty mean nothing. But you cannot assert that our people are stricken by lack of ingratitude. No.

    Nigerians surely know how to reward good deeds. Otherwise, how do you explain the series of awards going on now? As usual, “Editorial Notebook” will not be left out of this yearly ritual. So, here is to all those compatriots of ours who stood out in 2015.

    He has been lampooned for running the economy aground, mishandling the war against Boko Haram and lacking the courage to fight corruption, a charge amplified by no other person but the man to whom he was an adopted son. But, fair is fair – Dr Goodluck Ebele Azikiwe Jonathan did well by relinquishing power when he saw that it was all over. A typical African big man would have preferred to shed some blood, smash some heads and scream that he would never surrender a mandate given to him freely by millions of Nigerians. But, many have asked: had he any other choice? Well, that is neither here nor there. The reality is, the Jonathan presidency has become history. A former teacher, he has since hit the lecture circuit, pontificating about democracy, rule of law, good governance and all such theories. Take a bow, Dr Jonathan, you are the Man of the Year.

    When a fire broke out at a popular market in Ado-Ekiti, Governor Ayo Fayose led firemen to fight it. After the smoke had cleared and the stalls lay in ruins, he ordered in the bulldozer, promising that from the ruins of that market, another, which will be a worthy edifice, will spring up. His compassion provoked questions on the mysterious fire.

    His Excellency recently suborned the House of Assembly to hold a special session where he was proclaimed “leader of the opposition”, following his verbal assaults on President Muhammadu Buhari and those newspaper advertorials in which he played the necromancer, predicting gloom and doom.

    But of all the governor’s stunts of epical Balotellian proportions, none seems to have matched his outlandish presentation of the 2016 budget. The video is all over the place. Fayose strolls into the Assembly in a Polo shirt. The lawmakers sit there, looking serious like pupils awaiting the headmaster’s visit. Some have their hands clasped onto their chests. Others are restless, like a patient on a dentist’s chair. Then, the governor sounds off about the state being his “catchment area” , raises up the document and asks four times: “Those who want this budget passed speedily, say yes!”. As most of the lawmakers watch the bizarre scene, the gallery erupts: “Yeah!.” His Excellency is not done. He goes on: “Those who doesn’t (sic) want this budget passed speedily, say ‘yeah!.” All is quiet. Fayose then reaches out for the gavel, which he brought, and bangs the podium, yelling: “The ayes have it!.” He turns to the Speaker and bows sharply. “Mr Speaker, I hereby present the budget.” Can you beat that?

    For combining so well the dual role of the executive and the legislature, for being so compassionate to his people and for delivering regularly those diatribes against the President even when nobody replies him, Fayose is Governor of the Year.

    Considering the row that greeted his enthronement as Senate president, Dr Bukola Saraki should snatch away the Senator of the Year Award. The truth, however, is that many of our distinguished senators are qualified to claim this much disputed title. There is Senator Ibn Na’Allah, the architect of the infamous “Bill for an act to prohibit frivolous petitions and other matters connected therewith”, otherwise known as “Anti-social Media Bill”. Senator Ike Ekweremadu – against all odds – became Deputy Senate President by what many have called the betrayal of principle and alleged forgery of the rules, which is still the subject of a police investigation. Dino Melaye’s exuberance attained its full potentiality as he was either playing Dr Saraki’s bodyguard or making frivolous allegations, always yelling like a hungry hyena. None of them, I regret to say, got the trophy.

    Step forward Senator Kashamu Buruji. For long, there has been the argument that he is a fugitive running away from justice in the United States where he has been invited to clear his name of drug charges. Buruji, who has been accused of changing his name at will, insists that he has no case to answer and that he is not, in fact, the fellow being sought after by the law enforcement agents. The suspect, if there was any, he says, was his brother who had died. But, the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) would not listen. Its men stormed Buruji’s home and attempted to seize him. He locked himself in and vowed to commit suicide should the agents persist in their battle to catch him . Then, the courts stepped in and pulled the brakes on his planned extradition.

    Distractions over, Buruji then joined his colleagues to begin the arduous and intellectually challenging exertion of lawmaking for the peace and progress of the country. Unknown to us all, the National Association of Nigerian Students (NANS) – Ah! NANS, those who didn’t understand the game were screaming – was watching his progress. In no time, Buruji was called up to be garlanded as “Golden Man of the Year”. NANS President Tijani Usman said it was in recognition of the senator’s “untiring, exemplary and compassionate leadership style”.

    A few days ago, Buruji issued advertorials titled “Corruption must die if Nigeria must live”, urging Nigerians to support President Buhari’s anti-corruption battle. Besides, he said: “The only money I have ever received outside my legitimate business earnings is the one (N30m) given to all senatorial candidates by my party during the last election. The senator’s critics shouted: Where was the gift from? Who handed it over?

    From a drug suspect threatened with extradition, his home bombarded in a commando-style as if he was an armed robbery kingpin, his seat threatened by a tribunal judgment, which the Court of Appeal overturned and now an anti-corruption crusader, Buruji’s is, indeed, an “uncommon transformation” (apology to former Akwa Ibom Governor Godswill Akpabio). Take a bow, Buruji, Senator of the Year.

    Senator Akpabio’s Sport Utility Vehicle (SUV) hit a United States Embassy vehicle in Abuja. After a few days in an Abuja hospital, the distinguished senator flew overseas for medical help. Many were wondering why he didn’t check into the multi-billion naira world-class hospital he built in Akwa Ibom State during those years of “uncommon transformation” . That, no doubt, was the Accident of the Year.

    Even outside office, Senator Musiliu Obanikoro seems to be grabbing the headlines more than he did when he was Foreign minister – he was also Defence minister, you may wish to recall. His role in the Ekiti and Osun governorship elections has become a subject of a massive probe by the military. He has, besides, been mentioned in the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission’s (EFCC’s) investigation of the alleged diversion of $2.1b arms cash. While all the noise was going on, Obanikoro (Koro, for short or Koro Ibo– ballot- a nickname he earned as a result of his yet unproven but widely acclaimed prowess at winning elections) issued a statement that he was not on the run but in a United States university, studying History.

    Instead of praising his courage– in the search for knowledge, many have been scorning him. They ask derisively: “History; what kind of  history? Is he planning to manipulate history?” The fact is that, unlike some other former government officials who checked into hospitals –former PDP chair Haliru Bello was on wheel chair on Tuesday when he was hurled before a judge – when issues were raised about their tenure, Obanikoro has simply gone into the academia for more knowledge. For his love for scholarship, Obanikoro is Student of the Year.

    This year’s awards are, regrettably, slightly tinged with tragedy. The revered Ooni of Ife, Oba Okunade Sijuwade, died overseas, setting off a bitter–expensive, many claim– struggle for the throne. Former Kogi State Governor Abubakar Audu, who was set to be proclaimed winner of the November 21 governorship election, died suddenly. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), in a manner that exhibited so much dependence and less independence, declared the election inconclusive and ordered a supplementary poll in some polling units. Of all the deaths, however, the most controversial remains that of former Bayelsa Governor D.S.P. Alamieyeseigha, also known as Alams.

    He was said to be in a Dubai hospital when the news broke that he was to be extradited to London for alleged money laundering. He had years earlier escaped from Britain in circumstances that provoked a wide range of conjectural elucidations, among which was that he was decked out in a woman’s clothings. Alams jumped off his hospital bed, hopped onto a plane and flew home. Not long after, he died. Now many are saying cynically that he was merely proclaimed dead, an unproven assertion that has rendered his death inconclusive. When is death not the final, the end and the closing of all things?

    The row has refused to die. For this, Alamieyeseigha’s death wins Controversy of the Year.

    In the business sector, what would have qualified for the Deal of the Year – billionaire Aliko Dangote threatening to buy English Premier League giants Arsenal – did not take off. Mobile operator MTN was hit with a $5.2b fine. After  negotiations, the fine was reduced to $3.4b. As we all looked forward to the company signing the cheque, it suddenly made a detour and elected to go to court where the matter remains pending. So, no Deal of the Year Award.

    Now, a short break. More awards are on the way. Don’t go away.

  • A staple’s apotheosis

    A staple’s apotheosis

    I really do not know how it attained its culinary deification, revered by all (rich, poor, young, old, men and women), including the super rich, who have extracted from it a multi-billion naira business that oils the economy, creating thousands of jobs, and mischievous politicians, who have found in it a formidable battle-axe to be pressed into service for vote harvesting. So strange.

    But, the apotheosis of its prestige is its pre-eminence as a metaphor for all that ails Nigeria, especially corruption and its corollary of hunger, poverty and underdevelopment.

    From an ordinary staple consumed in many homes at Christmas and during other festivities, rice has risen to be a magical delicacy with intercontinental connections and a strong tantalising aroma wherever it is served.

    In Nigeria, the Chinese have packaged it as their flagship menu – fried and coloured, with shrimps or prawns, ham and fried fish, dished in fine china and christened Yangchow Fried Rice – in a manner that only the rich can afford a bite, unlike what obtains overseas where it is available for all. In other words, rice is a status symbol, depending on how it is prepared, the chef who does the job and where it is served as well as other factors, such as the drink. Champagne, red wine and soft drink or just water, “pure” water and bottled water.

    How the late “strongman” of Ibadan politics, the redoubtable Lamidi Adedibu, did not stumble on the efficacy of rice as a crowd puller, attracting people as bees to honey, remains curious. He got them at his Molete redoubt with “amala, ewedu and gbegiri”, no doubt, but how could that have compared to the mammoth crowds now on queues all over the place, waiting to be handed some bags of the stuff?

    One can see that glint of pleasure in the eyes of Adedibu (you sure remember him) as his electoral battle formula becomes a major feature in government houses, now with an elegant and scholarly name, Stomach Infrastructure.

    A colleague has just recalled how a governor at Yuletide last year personally handed some poor residents small bags of rice and some chicken, which many  observed were not mature enough to be consumed. His Excellency, a seemingly humble man who many believe is rude and uncouth, promised to start breeding the chicks early enough for this Christmas. But, rather than encourage the governor, some of the residents- a few ingrates, among them those who often remind him that he was on trial for allegedly defrauding the state of N1.3b  in a doomed poultry project, have started grumbling that instead of the rice and chicken they were promised, they have been getting taxes and levies.

    There have been suggestions that the cash that parties and their candidates can spend should be regulated. Never a thought on how many bags of rice a candidate can deploy at any time.

    The story is told on the Internet of two university students from Ghana and Nigeria who were suspended in the UK over Jollof Rice origin fight. They had a fight which ended with one of them going home with two broken teeth—and a red eye.

    “Tracy Osei Assibey from Ghana and Lateefah Oyedepo shared an apartment’s kitchen. Lateefah was cooking her jollof rice when Tracy commented that she was doing it the wrong way and that she shouldn’t use the fat grain easy cook rice.

    “Lateefah then replied that how Nigerians cook jollof is the right way since Ghanaians stole jollof rice from them, adding that Ghanaian jollof rice tastes disgusting compared to the big Nigerian rice.

    “That’s how it started”, the BBC says. Things got heated and soon the two students started pulling each other’s weaves, followed by heavy punches.

    “For about two-and-half hours, the students fought each other and descended downstairs from their fifth floor apartment with the fight – until one of the college’s lecturers from Sierra Leone, Mrs. Adelaide Walters, jumped in-between them to pull them apart.

    “At a disciplinary meeting which led to their suspension, Mrs. Adelaide Walters, who was present as a witness to the fight, stated that it was absurd for two students who would possibly become future leaders to fight over the origin and cooking of jollof rice – especially when both of them are wrong about the origin and cooking method.

    “Mrs Walters indicated to the hearing board that jollof rice originates from her country, Sierra Leone and the way both Ghanaians and Nigerians cook it is wrong but she does not go about fighting anyone.

    “The third year students have been suspended indefinitely by the university.”

    Ah! The power of rice.

    Even before some Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) chiefs confessed that they actually got some of the huge cash hauled out of the Central Bank to the Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA), ostensibly for arms purchase, and diverted it into former President Goodluck Jonathan’s failed second term bid, there had been all manner of postulations, chief among which was that the money went into   purchasing (what else) rice for would-be voters.

    There have been many figures bandied about by various analysts – $2b, N2.1b, $30,000 and N100m – as part of what is now known as the arms cash bazaar. A cynical fellow swore the other day that a big percentage of the cash must have gone into arms (o sorry, an error there, rice) purchase. He would like the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) to probe how much of this cash went into ferrying rice and kerosene into vulnerable states to oil the PDP’s vote harvesting machines. The anti-graft agency, sources have said, may  consider this novel suggestion and invite some auditing giants to join its investigations so as to determine exactly how much of the cash went into rice purchase.

    A renowned professor of sociology, I am told, is seeking a grant to launch a research into how our politicians have parlayed a common staple into a reliable electoral weapon that never fails to deliver the votes. The title of this work, which sources familiar with the proposal believe will shake the intellectual world, is “Changes in political dynamics: A comprehensive inquiry into the role of rice in the psychological mechanism of voting in a democracy. The case of Nigeria.”

    How much rice do we consume? Our statisticians are yet to resolve this puzzle. The Central Bank said in 2014 that Nigeria spent N800b to import rice. Many are talking about fuel subsidy. Only a few care about rice subsidy, yet it costs billions in hard currency to ensure that our favourite food never fails to appear on the dining table.

    The story is told of how some companies allegedly planned and executed a N117b rice import fraud, a charge against which they have been defending their integrity, insisting that all they did was a legitimate business. They got waivers to import rice at 10 % duty, but they allegedly overshot their quotas and the Customs Service insisted that they must pay the duty for the difference. Stalemate.

    The Senate has stepped in to resolve the logjam. Can it? Many do not think so. Why? A key member of the committee set up to find out the truth is said to be the owner of a company that was a major beneficiary of the rice duty waiver jamboree.

    While all this was going on, the Customs Service suddenly stumbled on a formula to fight rice smuggling and boost its revenue. It threw open the borders and rice flooded in – as  if from a river that tore through its banks – from the Republic of Benin and other neighbouring countries. Last week, the Service announced gleefully that it had been vindicated by its action because it earned N1.1b in two months.

    Great idea. Why not open the border for other commodities, such as tissue paper, lipsticks, toothpicks, bathroom slippers, plastic buckets, used clothes, used shoes, body lotion, vegetable oil, wines and fruits so that we can earn more money?

    To those who have invested a fortune in rice growing and milling, it has been a nightmare. They feel stabbed in the back by a government that encouraged them to shell out hefty sums to set up rice businesses that, in their view, are now being undermined. Their logic is that if cheap rice from neighbouring countries floods Nigeria, the competition will be unfair to local investors who may eventually close shop and send their workers home.

    Doctors have done their best to make us reduce our rice consumption. They say the magical grain is starchy and not good for our health – pot belly, fat and all that. Nobody seems to be listening. Didn’t they say so of good old pounded yam?

    Rice has refused to be blackmailed. The local stuff from Abakaliki, Ebonyi State, Igbemo, Ekiti State and others, many connoisseurs insist, are healthier than the Thai brands and others, such as Mama Gold, Basmati, Caprice and Uncle Ben’s.

    It is Christmas again. Suddenly, the rice flood is here. Prisons, orphanages, old people’s homes and offices are getting piles and piles of the stuff. We will all have a mouthful.

    Merry Xmas.

  • A season of goodwill

    A season of goodwill

    DOES anybody remember it is Christmas?

    I almost did not – for good reasons. The Boko Haram insurgency remains a bad sore, partly a self-inflicted injury, as we are beginning to find out – courtesy of the $2b arms contracts probe. Politicians have refused to learn a lesson on why the people’s will should be allowed to prevail, our roads keep taking lives, power supply remains everything but stable and rights abuses are yet to abate. The economy is like a barber’s chair, rolling and rocking but going nowhere. Senators are struggling to enact a law that will criminalise free speech – as if they never swore to make laws for the benefit of the citizenry.

    In the stifling environment, isn’t it easy to forget the Yuletide? The reality of it hit me when a cousin of mine showed up with a gift. Besides, harmattan is here, dry, dusty and nasty. Visibility is poor; it is cloudy and a bit smoggy. No excuses; the season of goodwill is here. So, as I do every year, I have begun a compilation of gifts for some prominent Nigerians – just before the authorities declare the Yuletide inconclusive.

    On top of my mailing list is President Muhammmadu Buhari. I have refused to join critics of his frequent travels, which an aide insists are not for fun. Consider those friends we have lost over the years; won’t we woo them back? How do we announce that the giant of Africa is truly back when our President is not seen at major seminars where world leaders discuss such life-and-death matters as climate change, ISIS, small arms trafficking, human trafficking and others.

    For the President, I have ordered a copy of Jonathan Swift’s classic,  “Gulliver’s Travels”. He will get also several packs of Vitamin C tablets.

    Many of former President Goodluck Jonathan’s associates have dissociated themselves from him, I am told. Not on account of any ill-feeling, but simply because His Excellency is out of power. I wonder how many Christmas cards and visits he is going to get. Poor man.

    Some of his friends are telling Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) detectives all they know about the $2b arms cash bonanza at the Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA). The EFCC is contemplating how to handle the matter; should it take in Dr Jonathan for questioning or leave him out of it all? Should he be sent questions to answer or simply be allowed to decide how to clear his name? The “armsgate” cash is huge, bigger in reality and in imagination than what the late Justice Victor Ovie-Whiskey, chairman of the Federal Electoral Commission (FEDECO), the forerunner of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), said could send him fainting.

    I bet Dr Jonathan would like to address this and other matters in his memoirs, which will surely be a best-seller whenever he decides to write it. But, a source told me he is yet to start writing. From me to the former President is a hard copy of Curtis Bisel’s “How to write an autobiography: The secret tips to finally get started”.

    Talking about the “$2b armsgate”, former National Security Adviser (NSA) Sambo Dasuki seems to be at the centre of it all, with people, such as controversial businessman Raymond Anthony Aleogho Dokpesi confessing that he got N2.1b from his office – we understand that the AIT/Ray Power chair actually has N10b (incredible) to account for – and the accountant Shaibu Salisu giving an account of  how the cash was funneled. Former Sokoto Governor Attahiru Bafarawa was said to have got N100m for –wait for this – “spiritual purposes”.

    Well, we’ll get to know more now that the matter is in the open court. Before then, I have ordered for Dasuki an ATM, the Automated Teller Machine that dispenses cash at the touch of some buttons after the insertion of a personalised and coded card. It keeps records of who gets what and actually issues receipts.  All this after a courteous greeting, which in this case will run like “Welcome to ONSA. Please, enter your secret number.”

    Dokpesi has issued a statement that the cash he got was for “media and publicity”. But the EFCC, which is said to be unable to fathom what the ONSA could possibly have to do with publicity contracts, has asked the high chief to tender some documents –letter of award, certificate of no objection from the Bureau of Public Procurement, certificate of completion and all that. Dokpesi’s  family has said he submitted a proposal to Dr Jonathan  in the presence of the then Vice President, Namadi Sambo (where in the world is he?) and that the proposal was thoroughly scrutinised. What due process could have been better than this, Dokpesi was said to have told the incredulous officers, who were amazed and dazed at the depth of his proficiency.

    I have briefed a young lawyer with an incredible zealotry – you missed it if you thought Mike Ozekhome (SAN) got my brief – to file an application for a copyright on a yet to be published work that will change the face of Commercial Law for ever. “How to sign multi-billion naira contracts”, by Dr R.A. Dokpesi.

    Where is Olisa Metuh? This is the question many have been asking on account of the unusual silence of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) spokesman. I have got Metuh a bottle of Cognac. Besides, he will get a basket of farm-fresh okro to keep his mouth ever-smooth and  ever-running as in the days when his party revelled in the illusion that it was going to rule  for 60 years – in the first instance.

    The other day in the newsroom, somebody was talking about Dr Doyin Okupe – remember him; one of Dr Jonathan’s spokesmen, the one who swore that Buhari would never be president? – and his prediction that the All Progressives Congress (APC) would find it difficult to manage its success in the general election. Now, said the fellow, rather than defend its victory in Kogi State, the party’s leadership flunked a single test of integrity and  principle– Haba Chief John Odigie-Oyegun – agreed to a supplementary election and abused the memory of its candidate, Abubakar Audu, by dumping his running mate, Abiodun Faleke, for a man who never cared for the party after losing its primary. Now, let’s be fair. Isn’t Okupe right?

    Okupe will get from me a week’s supply of Italian pizza from the best restaurant in town for what the fellow called his precision. By the way, has the prince executed that Benue State contract, the one on which he reportedly got a hefty mobilisation fee? Or has he been restrained by a court of competent jurisdiction from executing it?

    Faleke too deserves a gift. I have ordered “The proverbs of MKO Abiola”, a pamphlet compiled by the former crime writer who is now a security consultant, Ben Okezie. Abiola, frontline businessman, philanthropist  and sport enthusiast, won the June 12,1993 presidential election, but his friend, Gen. Ibrahim Babangida, annulled the poll for no reason. Abiola died in a desperate battle to reclaim his mandate. Before then he had  quipped in reply to a reporter’s question: “With a friend like IBB, nobody needs an enemy.” Faleke should note particularly such instructive proverbs as “You don’t abort a pregnancy after the baby is born” and “You can’t shave a man’s head in his absence”.

    Dino Melaye has been hyperactive since he became a senator. Vaulted from street activism to the Senate, Melaye, in the view of many, has never really got over his dramatic transformation. Not for him the sobriety that is the hallmark of a lawmaker. When he is not playing Senate President Bukola Saraki’s bodyguard, he is busy screaming – without facts but with fake figures – that an innocent company has  creamed off N25b of the national revenue in three months.

    I won’t join those condemning what they have described as Melaye’s incivility, describing him as an empty barrel making the loudest noise and an irritant who thrives on peddling salacious rumours. No. From me, the distinguished senator will get a bottle of the herbal medication “Kalms”, which will assure him of a good night’s sleep and put him in a calm, reflective mood all day.

    Before governors begin to feel neglected, let me quickly announce the package for a worthy member of that exclusive club, Mr Ayodele Fayose, the grandiloquent “architect of modern Ekiti”, the one who recently corralled the honourable members of the House of Assembly to crown him the “leader of the opposition”, a title that has refused to stick despite his “Balottelian” stunts.

    Fayose, you may wish to recall, just before the general election, practically laid bare in public, his mother’s private infelicitous circumstances, saying the old woman had been condemned by her health status to wearing pampers, like a baby. This being a family paper, I would not like to write the other things he said in denigration of then candidate Buhari, using his innocent mother as a symbol.

    I have asked a photographer to glaze a bold copy of the popular Yoruba song celebrating motherhood for His Excellency. Here it goes:

    Iya ni wura iyebiye, ti a ko le f’owora

    O lo yun mi fo su mesan,

    O pon mi fodun meta

    Iya ni wura iyebiye ti a ko le f’owora

    “Mother is the priceless gold that money can’t buy. “She bore me in her womb for nine months. “She carried me on her back for three years. “Mother is the priceless diamond that

    money can’t buy.”

    Sunday Oliseh is hanging in there as coach of the Super Eagles, a team that has embarrassed its fans in spectacular ways since it won the Africa Cup of Nations in 2013 under the pompous Stephen ‘Big Boss’ Keshi. Since he got the top job some five months ago, Oliseh has played eight games, winning four, drawing three and losing one. He has been tongue- lashed for lacking attackers who have the skill of scoring goals and for engaging in needless squabbles with goalkeeper Vincent Enyeama.

    For Oliseh, the honeymoon may soon be over. I have got him an M2 Basic Automatic Blood Pressure Monitor, the OMRON  brand. He will surely read it.

    My mailing list remains open and inconclusive – in the  spirit  of these days  of  inconclusiveness– all through the Yuletide. Should anybody feel left out, he or she should feel free to contact me. After all, this is the season of goodwill. Merry Christmas!