Category: Gbenga Omotoso

WILL the police ever find Commissioner Chinweike Asadu’s killers?

To many Nigerians who have lost faith in the system the answer is simple – no. Inspector-General Mohammed Abubakar has vowed to bring the killers to justice. In fact, there has been a whirlwind of arrests in Enugu, the city in which the Kwara State Commissioner of Police was cut down in a hail of bullets last Saturday. Doctors are battling to save the lives of his orderly and driver.

Asadu was driving home after dropping a lawyer-friend of his who came visiting. A bus carrying four armed men blocked his car. He was ordered out of the car. He did. His orderly also came out. The gunmen found Asadu’s driver, Oliver Omeh, a corporal, in uniform and opened fire, killing the commissioner and leaving the others injured. By the time Asadu’s guards rushed to the scene, the gunmen had vanished into the thick, dark night, perhaps never to be seen again.

Did Asadu underestimate the security situation in Enugu? Why did he not take enough guards, knowing that trouble blows no siren? Who was the visitor? Were the gunmen after the Camry and fired the lethal shots out of panic? Can Omeh and Aloha Olaniyi, the driver, identify them? Were the gunmen robbers or contract killers?

The puzzles are as numerous as the number of unresolved assassinations that the police say they have been tackling. What is clear is that the police have lost a fine officer and a good man, going by the tributes that have been pouring in since the tragedy occurred- less than three months to Asadu’s retirement date, a date to which he was excitedly looking forward. But are these accolades genuine? We may never know.

With Asadu’s murder have come more troubles for the police, who are yet to find the Pension Task Force Team leader, Ibrahim Maina, a man they protected with a battalion for months as if he was the most important of all our VIPs. The Senate issued a warrant of arrest for Maina to come and explain how billions of pension cash went missing. Maina ran to the court to seek protection. He got none. Then he went underground. From his hiding place, he kept organising protests, pushing the authorities to leave him alone. He will surely show up again, perhaps for a bigger assignment, when everything is calm.

Should Senate President David Mark see police chief Abubakar today, his first question is most likely to be: “Where is Maina?” “We are looking for him sir. Rankadede sir,” the IG will, most likely, reply. Both will smile, shake hands, crack some jokes and move on.

Farouk Lawan – I’m sure you remember him – is facing bribery charges in court, after a long, winding and grinding investigation that went everywhere but, in the view of many, got nowhere. The lawmaker confessed to collecting some $620,000 bribe from businessman Femi Otedola, but vowed not to surrender the evidence to the police (He doesn’t trust them?). He was hauled before the court after so much noise from those who felt that even Mr Integrity needed to prove his integrity- if indeed he had any. The case is on, but the question remains: “Where is the cash?” We may never know.

The popular thinking is that if these seemingly simple cases remain unresolved, how much more murder, murder under the cover of darkness, and assassinations. The Igwes. Bola Ige. Odunayo Olagbaju. Isiak Mohammed. Jafaar Adam. Theodore Egwuatu. Harry Marshall . Layi Balogun. Funsho Williams. And many more.

The police have lost so many men, unsung and, most likely, unmissed by the force they served and died for. They are never remembered. In some cases, their families get thrown out of the barracks soon after their death, left alone to fend for themselves in a beautiful country troubled by ravenous wolves in sheep’s clothing.

The Asadu murder has ignited many thoughts on crimes, criminals and crime fighters. Among us are men who live in the past, in the dark past when life meant little and people were slaughtered in a savage world of brutes and bullies. These are ritual murderers, who believe human blood and body parts can, by some mystical powers, yield money.

A newspaper reported on January 30 the case of a man who found a human head on the road opposite his home in Jos. A headless body cut into many parts was recovered on Tafawa Balewa Road, also in Jos. The body was later identified to be that of a resident of the city. These are just two among many. We may never know who these savages are.

Almost two months after some bodies were found floating on the Ezu River in Anambra, there is still no clue to who the dead were. The police vowed to resolve the mystery; they are yet to. Politicians have been visiting the community to offer the residents “pure water” and make inciting statements that can never aid the resolution of the mystery, but deepen the kind of animosity that may have led to the problem. Did the bodies drop from heaven? Is there a big conspiracy among those who lost their loved ones to keep quiet for fear of being given the same treatment? Was it a mere expression of our callousness and loss of humanity? We may never know.

The other day in Kano, a 42-year-old woman was arrested for selling dogs. There was a song and dance about her arrest. According to the law enforcers, that was the second time she had been arrested. The woman said she knew no other trade. What happened to her eventually? We may never know.

Edo State Governor Adams Oshiomhole has been accusing the police of complicity in the murder of his private secretary, Olaitan Oyerinde. The police have denied this, alleging that the comrade-governor is using his position to hurl abuses at them. Oshiomhole’s case is simple. He says the gun used by Oyerinde’s killers had been with the police since April 24, 2012, before the murderers struck. It was, according to the governor, retrieved from the police exhibits room and presented as the one used to kill Oyerinde, whose activist-friend was initially arrested for the crime, but let off the hook by a court that found that the police were tampering with his rights. Besides, the suspects arrested by the police are different from those being held by the State Security Service (SSS). Now, who is to face trial for the crime? Who killed Oyerinde? We may never know.

As we reflected on the Oyerinde murder, a colleague recalled a joke that once appeared on this page to reinforce his belief that the police will surely find Asadu’s killers because, according to him, he was one of them, their own man. Here goes the joke, once again, dear reader: “In an effort to determine the top crime fighting agency in Nigeria, the President narrowed the field to three finalists: SSS, Army and Police. The three contenders were given the task of catching a rabbit that was released into the forest. The SSS went in, placing informants all over the place. They questioned all plants and mineral witnesses. After three months of extensive investigation, the SSS concluded that rabbits do not exist. The army went into the forest. After two weeks without a capture, they burnt the forest, killing everything in it, including the rabbit. They made no apologies. The rabbit deserved it.

“The police went into the forest. They came out two hours later with a badly beaten hyena. The hyena was yelling: `Okay, okay; I agree! I’m a rabbit! I’m a rabbit!`”

Will the police find Asadu’s killers? Who will save us from the gunman?

Jonathan goes to Borno, Yobe

HE President will be in Maiduguri, the beleaguered Borno State capital, and Yobe State today and tomorrow. There will be no excited school pupils lining the road and waving the national flag. Markets will be shut and residents will stay indoors. A strange visit.

The Borno State Government has declared a public holiday, apparently after considering the massive security implication of the official visit. The Inspector-General is leading 3,000 policemen. There will be no fewer than 100 secret agents and an army of Civil Defence personnel. The Chief of Defence Staff, Vice Admiral Ibrahim Ola Sa’ad, will coordinate the operation.

The visit is coming after that of nine All Progressives Party (APC) governors – and a deputy. They visited the city’s biggest market, drawing applause. Presidential aide Dr Doyin Okupe said Dr Goodluck Jonathan planned to visit this week and that the governors merely took the wind out of his sails in what he derogatorily called a stunt and a circus.

Must Okupe talk? If the President’s visit isn’t a show of bravado against the Boko Haram insurgency, what is it? Should there be any big deal in the President visiting any part of the country? What message will the visit bring us – that the Federal Government has made Borno and Yobe safe for all? Who will believe that?

Anyway, au revoir, President Jonathan.

IT has been about six months since the President signed a performance bond with his ministers, and almost midway into the administration’s lifespan.

Is it safe to assume that all the members of the team have been faithfully driving the transformation agenda – the Goodluck Jonathan administration’s mantra for good governance? If the team has not done well, is it capable of springing a surprise and, like the Super Eagles, prove bookmakers wrong? Will the coach bring in new players to present a more formidable first eleven? Will those players who are obviously injured be allowed to carry on in the name of Federal Character or will they be dropped? What shape of cabinet are we expecting towards the magical year 2015? Will there be a bigger team to accommodate those grumbling of being marginalised?

Here are some suggestions for the President on a more efficient team, one that will accommodate all and, as they say here, give everybody a sense of belonging: Only a few months ago we had a shameful outing at the Olympics, but the fans are now revelling over our victory at the Africa Cup of Nations. A grateful nation has been showering gifts on the soccer heroes. The party was almost marred even before it began by Coach Stephen Keshi’s sudden resignation, which was announced while the team was still in South Africa. The President and Senate President David Mark, apparently seeing the hand of saboteurs and disgruntled elements in the whole thing, stepped in to stop Keshi.

These busy officials, the busiest in the land, obviously, would not have had to dump other urgent matters of state to settle the soccer family’s quarrel, if we had done the right thing. How about a Minister of Soccer? The advantages: more room for genuine patriots and more time to cater for other sports so that we can prevent another sham of an Olympic outing. Besides, there will be so much to celebrate. Recall how we almost lost our culture of wild celebration and the country became a vast canvass of blood and tears – until the Super Eagles’ victory.

When National Security Adviser Sambo Dasuki came on board, he embarked on a massive peace drive, waving the olive branch at the dreaded Boko Haram sect and preaching dialogue. For a while, the guns went silent and the bombs stopped going off. Then, he stopped the much publicised tours and went back to Abuja, apparently to take care of other matters of his delicate office. Then, as if to say dialogue has lost it all to violence, the guns began to boom again. Now from faceless(?) Boko Haram, which claimed to have announced a ceasefire, to Ansaru, which snatched seven foreigners off their duty posts in Bauchi, the security situation seems to have degenerated. On the side are kidnappers and their uncles, the armed robbers who have made life a war for other Nigerians. Why don’t we have another NSA, NSA II, an expert in Conflict Resolution, who will be saddled with the responsibility of discussing with those agents of violence?

Now that cassava bread has become a regular on many breakfast tables in every village, town and city, shouldn’t Agriculture Minister Akinwunmi Adesina stop the road show and have more time to pursue yet another challenging task, that of telephone for farmers?

When Dr Doyin Okupe was appointed Senior Special Adviser on Public Affairs, many condemned the wise move. They said Okupe was coming in to play the Rottweiler, tearing at the President’s recalcitrant critics – a role they felt Dr Reuben Abati was not playing. But some actually thought there would be some relief for Abati. How wrong they are! Abati issues statements on behalf of the President, commiserating with one family or the other on the loss of their loved ones to Boko Haram bombs, kidnappers and all other agents of the devil. Shouldn’t there be a minister (of tragedy?) to free Abati of the grim, but compulsory job of penning those elegies?

Those critics of the rapid transformation at the airports, who are grumbling that huge renovation contracts are being awarded and terminals knocked down for arrival and departure halls to look spick and span should take it easy. Who knows, a Minister of Airport Infrastructure may be appointed. And Princess Stella Oduah will spare some time for air safety equipment and personnel, considering the allegation that many have been sacked and replaced by those of her ethnic group.

With the gargantuan cash that has gone into the subsidy mess – cash that would have been spent on building roads and providing medical facilities, for example – it is unimaginable how the minister copes. To the subsidy palaver, add the new cash machine in town, the one that goes by the fancy name SURE-P and the plans to obtain some foreign loans. How about a minister to handle these to free Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala of such chores so that she can have time for more creative ventures, such as announcing in newspapers how much local governments are collecting and attending all those key economic fora overseas.

A good accountant should be able to handle the job – the accountants’ parent body, ICAN, can be asked to make a recommendation – of sorting out the muddled subsidy scene. Who is to be paid what? What for? Who has supplied what? At what rate? These are questions that a minister saddled with other responsibilities may find difficult to answer.

For a long time, it has been said that the oil giant, NNPC, does not know how much of the stuff is pumped and shipped out by the multinationals. There has also been the tortuous search for appropriate pricing for fuel, a venture that has culminated in numerous attempts to remove subsidy. Subsidy removal, the government says, will ensure availability of petrol and free the cash for other areas of need, such as building roads and providing water. Market forces. To many Nigerians, it is merely a euphemism for higher pump prices. This, obviously, is too much for a minister. Besides, isn’t there a difference between petrol and petroleum resources?

The other day in Abuja, an impudent fellow who saw President Jonathan on the television commented about his dark, glittering shoes. “How wonderful God can be,” said the gentleman, a village teacher holidaying in the expensive city. “Here is a man who once had no shoes. Who knows how many pairs he has now?” “What type does he wear?” “Who are his favourite designers?”

These are very crucial questions in an ever inquisitive society, such as ours. A minister of Domestic Affairs won’t be a bad idea, after all. Will it?

Erosion has become a major problem in many states. Homes are being washed away and farms are threatened, especially in the Southeast. Unfortunately, many are talking about bad roads only. The government seems overwhelmed by last year’s destructive floods from which many are yet to recover. People are asking: where is the Minister of the Environment? But, to be honest, how much of those calamities can a minister cope with? Can’t we have a Minister of Erosion?

And now, dear reader, a little civics test. Match the following names with their portfolios: Ita Okon Bassey Ewa, Zainab Ibrahim Kuchi, Bukar Tijani, Mohammed Musa Sada, Viola Onwuliri, Mohammed Musa Sada and Samuel Ioraer Ortom.

Obasanjo, Jonathan and the Odi verdict

WHEN former President Olusegun Obasanjo denounced President Goodluck Jonathan’s handling of Boko Haram as tardy and timid, I knew he was going to get a good reply. Dr Jonathan fought back. He described Odi as a disaster and a crime against humanity. He was short of calling in the International Criminal Court (ICC).

Now, a court has ordered the Federal Government to pay Odi residents N37.6billion for the atrocity visited on the community by soldiers. This is a lesson for all who wield power. Those who murdered policemen in Odi, many believe, could have been found without levelling the community.

Will Obasanjo still be proud of how he handled the matter? Have our soldiers learnt any lesson – that there are rules that govern internal security as against when a nation is at war? Shouldn’t Boko Haram have gone to court for the murder of its leader, Mohammed Yusuf, instead of taking up arms against the state?

WHAT seems to be a new drive to seize suspected corrupt government officials is causing so much anxiety in the land.

Those who have stolen from the public purse are worried that they may soon be hauled before the courts for taking too much and keeping it all for themselves and members of their families. Law offices are jammed by panicky officials seeking a way out of what looks like an imminent legal cauldron. I guess juju men, necromancers and Bar Beach prophets are also busy.

But, do they need to panic like kindergarten kids before an angry teacher? No. Here is a guide on how to stay above the storm. It is the result of years of a painstaking research. It is practical; not a mash of esoteric theories that are good only for the classroom, lacking in efficacy when put to the test in the simplest of cases. Neither is it a textbook stuff that can easily be snatched off the shelf and run through for some academic exertion nor a Lagos pickpocket’s guidebook. It is for those with vast assets, incredible assets in cash and property, those suspected to have their hands in the till. Here we go:

Today’s anti-corruption agencies are polite. They will never storm your home in the dead of the night, bearing arms and handcuffs. Neither will they come in broad daylight with an army of operatives decking bullet proof vests and steel helmets as if they are after some armed robbers or their cousins, the kidnappers. No. They will simply invite you for “a chat” or “clarification” on “a petition that this office is investigating”.

Find a damn good lawyer; the best money can get, the type called SAN. He will accompany you to the agency’s office and stay with you for the few hours that your interview – sorry, a wrong word there – your interrogation will last. You will be allowed to go home on what they call “administrative bail”. They may even ask you to surrender your travel passport. Don’t panic; it’s all about due process. Whenever you need to travel, you can simply go to court and secure an order for the release of your passport to go on a long overdue medical check-up. You need to be alive to face trial, your lawyer will tell the court. Your passport secured, you can then go on that delayed yearly family summer break.

The investigation will go on for months. During this long break, seek help from your powerful friends – every big man has some – so that the case can, as they say here, die naturally for “lack of diligent prosecution”. Let them talk to the Attorney General who can order a discontinuation of the case because, in his highly respected view, the investigation has been shoddy and no prima facie case has been established. In other words, the chief law officer will say it is better for 99 criminals to be set free than for one innocent person to be punished unjustly.

If that route proves unworkable and the agency insists on prosecuting you, you can check into a hospital, a good government hospital with a facility for privacy (an air conditioned room, a television set with cable facility for you to watch the Premiership, a refrigerator and all those other appliances of comfort to which you are used). Your lawyer will then rush to the court, pleading for the protection of your fundamental human rights. He will tender a doctor’s report stating that you are down with any of those cabbalistic diseases (Atherosclerosis or Dilated Cardiomyopathy or whatever).

He, the SAN that is, will push for a perpetual injunction restraining the agency, its servants, proxies and officers or whomsoever it may nominate from harassing or intimidating you. You may be lucky to get such an injunction. In case you do not, take it easy.

Your lawyer can go back to argue that the court lacks the jurisdiction to hear the matter. The prosecution will insist that the court is vested with such powers. Either way, the judge will fix a date to decide whether it has jurisdiction or not. Your lawyer will then stand up, bow sharply and look His Lordship straight in the eye, saying: “Milord…em…em I would like to crave your lordship’s indulgence for a longer date because I have another matter in Maiduguri on that day. A longer adjournment will be okay for me, Milord.”

“Objection granted. April 12 suitable?” “Yes Milord.” “Since there is no objection from the other side,” the judge will say, “I take it that the new date is okay for everybody. Case adjourned till April 12.”

If the agency is the stubborn type, it will insist that you must come to the court. Go there. Your lawyer will simply tell the judge that there is no need forcing a sick man to face trial and that, in any case, you have been on bail without breaching the terms. If your plea is taken, never plead guilty. The court will eventually ask you to go home on bail.

But never you think the matter has ended. Remain firm. Don’t flee overseas. Doing so will give your enemies – remember every rich man has them aplenty – enough time to arm the anti-graft agency with dangerous documents to cause your extradition to a friendly country where you could be sent to jail in a jiffy.

Remember your lawyer had told the court that it lacked the jurisdiction to entertain the case – he will also add that the charges, which usually come in a deluge, looking repetitive to the untrained eye – and that it should be thrown out. The court may insist it has jurisdiction. Never fret.

While all this legal calisthenics is going on, your lawyer can open talks with the prosecuting agency. He will tell the agency how good a man you have been, a man of conscience, a true patriot and a responsible family man who should not suffer unjustifiably. This is called plea bargain. Many – those arm chair critics and out-of-job lawyers – will be crying that this is alien to our laws and that it is an attempt to shield you from trial and pervert the course of justice. Remain calm.

You will be persuaded to surrender some property, perhaps 10 out of 22 mansions. That’s not bad; is it? After all, you can keep the cash you have safely stashed away in some finance houses or stocked up in the stock markets.

Your long list of charges will be compressed or consolidated, as they say, to about three counts. Stealing, you need not be reminded, is no murder or armed robbery. His Lordship, who must have been well briefed of the terms of settlement, will simply apply the law, ask you to go to jail for two years on each of the three counts or pay N150 fine on each and go home in peace to sin no more. Pay cash and walk home a free man.

Then, there will be uproar. Those self-appointed moral policemen will start criticising the judgment, crying as if it is their inheritance you have stolen. Again, be calm. It is not strange. Coram non judice. They are only ignorant of the law, which the judge can apply as he pleases.

If the noise is so much, coming from all manner of legal wannabes in the guise of amicus curiae, the anti-graft agency may come after you again, alleging that you have stolen some millions and that you did not declare your assets. Stay cool. Isn’t that the work of the Code of Conduct Bureau? Your lawyer will argue that this move is an attempt to start your trial de novo and cause you double jeopardy. The judge, as firm as ever, will dismiss the case as an abuse of court process and lash the prosecution for testing the court’s integrity and wasting its time. Case closed.

If you follow this guide, you are sure to emerge from it all a hero. Your people can then buy an Ankara uniform, hire an army of drummers and dance round the town, singing your praise.

One last thing: All rights reserved. No part of this Guide may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of this author.

Super Eagles… so super

GAINST all odds, the Super Eagles are in the finals of the Cup of Nations. Nigerians are excited. They were the subject of all manner of jokes.

Keshi’s post-match interview was instructive. He spoke of two key elements of a great team – “mentality and character”. How I wish our politicians would embrace these values and more – the Eagles’ fighting spirit, agility and faith.

Now that we have, for this moment, forgotten all that ails our polity–corruption, decaying infrastructure, insecurity, ethnicity and all others– I hope our leaders will reflect on the verdict of history that will surely come.

As for the final game, my money is on the Eagles. How about you?

DOES Christmas still have its charm?

Despite the huge security blanket thrown around the country, gunmen stormed a church in Yobe State on Christmas Eve, killing the pastor and five others. Christmas Day was bloody in Maiduguri where six Christians were killed at the First Baptist Church. So sad.

The Pope, in his Urbi et Orbi (to the city and to the world) homily, referred to savage acts of terrorism in Nigeria. Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN) President Ayo Oritsejafor described it all as bestial.

Every Yuletide brings back memories of those good old days of innocence when one trudged on to church on Sundays, a routine enforced – or encouraged- by some relations who saw it all as a way of instilling some moral lessons in us.

The church in Ado-Ekiti, capital of Ekiti State, was a special structure sitting majestically on a large expanse of land, with its rocky walls and alluring landscape of flourishing green grass and teak trees. The surreal mix of facts and fantasy vividly portrayed by the murals; the quiet ambience of the big hall and the sober demeanour of the Reverend and his assistants all combined to give us the feeling that our prayers would surely reach God.

For me, it was one of those small serendipities; mum was a practising Moslem. But, it was an opportunity to pray for those little things ever craved by a kid – toys, a bicycle and a nice dress at Yuletide.

There is no gainsaying that the tone and pattern of my prayers have since changed. I no longer ask God to give dad some cash so that I could have a bicycle or a new dress. I now pray for peace in Nigeria, for wisdom for our leaders and, above all, for justice. Isn’t injustice at the root of almost all the problems terrorising Nigeria?

As usual, our leaders have made all the admonitions, preaching love and asking Nigerians to embrace unity, shun all acts that oil our engine of ethnicism and embrace the virtues that our Saviour died – and rose – for. Good. But I often wonder why the responsibility is all ours; never theirs, even as they get all the benefits.

President Goodluck Jonathan has said the government has the capacity to effect changes – many doubt this – and that despite the security challenges, the administration remains focused in its battle to improve the economy. Should Nigerians believe this?

A few days to the end of the year, the subsidy palaver remains as strong as it was last January. The government is asking for N161billion more for sacrifice to the god of subsidy – a development that many see as prodigal. Why don’t you just recover the illegal payments to all those dubious companies before asking for more cash? Why have filling stations been allowed a strange laissez- fare to sell petrol at whatever price that catches their fancy? How much will petrol cost next year, if this trend continues, unchecked? These are some of the questions that are being asked by Nigerians.

The President explained at the Christmas Day service that his administration seems to be slow because it needs “to think through things properly, if we are to make a lasting impact”. Is this the case on the Boko Haram front? For how long are Nigerians going to be patient for the government to stop kidnappers who are reaping bountiful harvests, snatching the rich and the poor with the same velocity?

The Primate of the Church of Nigeria (Anglican Communion), Archbishop Nicholas Okoh, spoke for many Nigerians when he urged the President to find a permanent solution to terrorism and kidnapping, which the man of God ascribed to greed and love of money. Rev Okoh, in my view, should have added that the seemingly debilitated situation of the security agencies is a tonic for those in the devilish trade.

My prayer for our leaders is that they should have a sense of justice. Boko Haram says its fury stems from the fact that its leader, Mohammed Yusuf, was murdered and that his killers are yet to be punished. In other words, they took up arms against the state because they had the feeling that there were plans to exterminate them. If there had been justice, would Boko Haram have gone berserk? Would it have become a lethal tool – as it is believed in some circles – in the hands of politicians? How much blood will be washed down the river of anger before the sect stops its killing spree?

Except for a few cases of kidnapping and piracy, which are pure criminal enterprises, it’s been a bit quiet in the Niger Delta – thanks to the amnesty programme. There seems to be a sense of some justice – no matter how little – which has seen the militants dropping their guns for training at home and abroad. Imagine if the militancy had been allowed to go on? Just imagine.

If there had been justice, the Niger Delta, being the goose that is laying the golden egg, wouldn’t have needed to agitate for more in the revenue allocation scheme. If there had been good schools, hospitals, roads and houses, there would have been peace. If there had been no oil spill to destroy aquatic life and farmlands on which the majority pin their hope of survival, there would have been no trouble, most likely not on the huge scale that we experienced.

In Jos, Plateau State, people get killed as if a war is going on. Why do people who have lived together for so many years suddenly become enemies, hacking one another down like animals? I really don’t know, but I’m sure the answer lies somewhere between pure injustice and the gradual descent to the jungle that has been noticed in many places, including the so-called developed world.

Only last week, a young man walked quietly into a school in Connecticut, United States, to shoot dead 26 people, including 20 kids, before turning the gun on himself. Adam Lanza, who was wearing black battle fatigues and a military vest, had earlier killed his own mother. It was the United States’ second deadliest school shooting.

The Jos template is replicated in many places, such as Umuneri and Aguleri, Ezillo and Ezza Ezillo, the Tiv/Idoma clashes in Benue and many others that never hit the headlines.

There are so many issues that make us to ask the question: why God? Is this a fair query? Have we examined our ways? Do our leaders at all levels feel a sense of justice after taking those crucial decisions?

I spent Christmas Day praying not for a dress or a bicycle, as I used to do; I spent the day praying for our leaders. I said: “O Lord, our Saviour, grant our leaders the truth to know:

That the positions they occupy are at the behest of the people; that they do us no favour by sitting (or sleeping, as the case may be) in their cozy offices and taking the wrong steps in the right direction; that they may know that the treasury is not theirs to loot; that any illness of theirs should make them spare a thought for our hospitals and not to fly off to Germany; and that they should stop paying lip service to the battle against corruption.

Father in heaven, grant our leaders the truth to know that politics is no do-or-die affair; that they promised to serve and not be served, as the case is now; that they should be modest in their taste, not seeking to live in Buckingham Palace- like mansions when the majority are homeless; that they should not plan to spend billions on food and refreshments in just one year when many go to bed hungry; that leadership demands a high level of sobriety and not revelry; that all men were born equal and are so before the Almighty. Amen!

And wishing all Editorial Notebook fans a great year ahead.

Princess Comfort Olufunke Ponnle, wife of Prince Tunde Ponnle, Chairman of MicCom Cables and Wires and MicCom Golf Hotel and Resort, has died at 68. The Nation Editor Gbenga Omotoso relives his encounters with the late philanthropist

THE call came in the dead of the night. About 1.15 am. The city of Lagos was fast asleep. I was in my study. I grabbed the phone as soon as it started ringing, its music like a police siren piercing the thick, dark night.

“Hello daddy!”

“Gbenga, how’re you.”

“I’m fine sir”

“Your mummy is dying o. But take it easy. She has asked for a befitting funeral and that’s why I’m calling you.”

“Ah, daddy! Are you saying it’s hopeless? But mummy told me the worst was over.”

I dropped the phone to return to my work, but the muse had taken a flight and I started struggling with it all. I couldn’t sleep. I was waiting to be told that a miracle had happened; she would live and see us all again, her face wreathed in smiles – as usual. If wishes were horses…

Later in the afternoon, daddy called to break the most tragic – personally – news I had heard for some time. Mrs Olufunke Comfort Ponnle, a princess, an engineer, a golf enthusiast, fashion buff, socialite, a great mother of many children – including the five that are hers biologically – a damn good wife and a true Christian, was dead.

The loss is not Prince Tunde Ponnle’s alone. The MicCom Group chair will surely miss his wife, with whom he did everything that was done and left undone everything that is yet to be done. She was strong in character and blessed with wisdom – the virtues that pulled many of us to her.

But many would swear that her philanthropy was the magic. They may be right. I recall how the late Mrs Ponnle told me of her plan to open the house she built for her former teacher, Mrs Oni, in Ibadan. She told of how she once went to see Mrs Oni, after many failed attempts. She found her old teacher in a not-too-pleasing environment and decided to change that. The late Mrs Ponnle asked Mrs Oni to find a piece of land in the neighborhood for a friend who lived overseas and would like to build a house for her mother. Mrs Oni found a derelict building. Mrs Ponnle bought it, flattened the structure and from the ruins rose a beautiful bungalow that was presented to Mrs Oni. She was shocked by the gift.

Such was Mrs Ponnle’s generousity. There is a long list of beneficiaries of the MicCom Foundation scholarship. Many of them have grown up to become notable citizens.

There was never a mourning moment with mummy. She was always upbeat, telling stories, many of which were not merely anecdotal but loaded with hard facts and live characters. Many of them were to help us strengthen our marriage; others were mere jokes to animate the environment.

I recall when I had a personal challenge that was too hot for me to handle, mummy didn’t just advise me on how to tackle it, she also led the way, praying with me. And, to God be the glory, the mountain was flattened.

If mummy wanted you to do something for her and it was taking time, she would threaten to abandon daddy and look for another husband. Would you let that happen? Of course, you won’t. You would then transfer the pressure to whoever was in charge. “Now, I won’t look for another husband,” mummy would say after the job must have been done. Such was her sense of humour – delightful and infectious.

Why do the good ones leave early? There seems to be no explanation that can satisfy a grieving relation of the departed as the whole question of death is shrouded in confounding mystery that dwarfs human intelligience. Science tries hard to answer the question . When a man checks into a hospital, they run tests that indicate what to treat. If he dies, the doctor issues a certificate, stating the cause of death. If the death is controversial, a post-mortem is ordered. A report is issued, but it is never enough to clear off the tears, especially when the death is so sudden – no prior complication.

Besides, every death requires an explanation. Old age. Accident. Suicide. Robbery. Communal clash. As far as Africans are concerned, no death is natural; there must be some ethereal forces doing the bidding of some earthly bodies who insist that the dead has overstayed his visa here.

To spiritualists, a man – or woman – dies when he or she has completed his assignment here. He simply moves on (up?) to take up higher responsibilities. Therefore, he needs a quiet but reflective send-off, not weeping and wailing. Those who subscribe to this allegorical explanation, often load the coffin of a departed one with food, drinks and other items, which they feel he or she may need. But, the question is: shouldn’t his loved ones have a say in how he departs, where he goes and what awaits him? No byes; final byes? It is not for man to know, even though he keeps probing.

Besides, why do babies die? The spiritualist finds an answer in reincarnation. Every baby is believed to be making just another appearance here after living an earlier life. Those who are not supposed to be here, probably because they are beyond this level, are quickly sent back home to be reassigned. Some are born with deformities. To this school of thought, it is a sign of the life they had lived earlier. Law of karma?

There is also the logic angle. Man was made of dust and to dust he returns. Since there is birth, it then follows that death is inevitable. Everything with a beginning must have an end, it is said. The Holy Book backs this in Ecclesiastes, chapter 3 that “to everything there is a season”. “ A time to be born and a time to die… .”

Whichever way one looks at death, it is a painful experience. It is the end. No. Not quite. Our deeds – good or bad – speak for us after we may have answered the call. It is in this light that I view the departure of Mummy Ponnle. We should look back and count our blessings.

She lives on in the hearts of the legion of students who enjoyed her scholarship; those for whom she provided shelter; those who got jobs through her; the vulnerable who she protected and the hopeless to whom she gave hope. And those lovely women with whom she played golf.

If laughter is allowed in heaven –I bet it is, being a place of eternal joy – mummy will surely have a legion of fans.

Farewell super mummy of a “world class editor.”