The Nation Newspaper

Category: Olatunji Ololade

  • The artist as Nigeria’s true architect

    The artist as Nigeria’s true architect

    A nation is more than its borders and governance. It is the sum of its stories, the melody of its anthems, the rhythm of its cultural heartbeat. Where politics flounders and policies fail, the arts endure, casting in ink, film, and sound, the indomitable essence of a people.

    The soul of every nation is thus enshrined in its stories, the verses of its poets, the visions of its filmmakers, and melodies of its musicians. The arts manifest as both a mirror and map, reflecting our wounds and charting our path to redemption.

    What shouldn’t we do for an evergreen story? What shouldn’t we give? If progressively spun, stories yield fresh insights through the imagination of the artist, who milks history and recalibrates reality to espouse a positive national lyric.

    What is the Nigerian lyric? What is our reality? For decades, our storytellers have oscillated between two extremes: glorifying foreign ideals or perpetuating narratives of hopelessness. The former divorces us from the peculiarities of our existence, while the latter traps us in a cycle of self-loathing. The result? A people whose reflections in literature and cinema are often distorted caricatures, exaggerated traumas, and borrowed cultural paradigms.

    Patriotism does not grow in the sterile halls of government houses, nor does it thrive in the acrid fumes of political speeches. It flourishes in culture—songs hummed by market women, fables whispered in moonlit courtyards, and cinematic retellings of our struggles and triumphs. Yet, Nigeria, rather than cultivating her fertile artistic landscape, has become an unwitting accomplice in her cultural erosion.

    For instance, Nollywood churns out too many rabidly wrought revenge fantasies in which the Nigerian female perpetually scores retribution over her treacherous male; lest we forget the increasingly tiresome fiction plots that incite audiences to nurse toxic sexuality, ethnic intolerance, religious bigotry, virulent feminism, and sexist rage. In search of the proverbial elixir, we have drunk water from a pestilent stream and filled our bellies with toxins.

    The superiority of Western democracy is one of the supreme constructions of imperialism and the poisonous elixir of Nigeria and her neighbours on the African continent. Nigerians elevate it with obsessive love. It is the magic pill to the nation’s ceaseless headaches.

    But the West must never be blamed for our collective ignorance – the United States in particular. The latter’s democratic enterprise is one of its most profitable constructions in its bid to make America great again, at any cost. It is both music and philosophy, a sensory stream of thought feeding generations of writers, political activists, filmmakers, politicians, gender rights activists, academia, and so on.

    We must understand, however, that Western democracy and foreign policy, while deliberately presented as two tines on the same fork, are sustained by oft-deceptive ideals and contradictory precepts of influence, crudely wedged into the nuclear powers’ global dominance stratagem. It is imperial politics without heart: ideologically deficit, dangerously manipulative, and Janus-faced.

    A few good minds with an intuitive grasp of the hard-edged imperialist designs of the Western agenda are spuriously labelled as conspiracy theorists.

    Those who love glorifying toxic foreign doctrines must understand that there is no way this could be achieved without horror, given the marked differences in culture, temperament, and histories defining different nations of the world.

    It’s about time we identified values complementary to our precepts of humane governance and development. We cannot dwell, for instance, like Americans or Brits in Nigeria. We can only assimilate aspects of their culture complimentary of ours.

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    Every great civilization understands the power of storytelling. Hollywood does not merely produce films—it manufactures America’s mythology, refining its political narrative with every frame. Between 1911 and 2017, more than 800 feature films received support from the US Government’s Department of Defence (DoD). These included blockbuster franchises such as Iron Man, Transformers, and The Terminator. On television, over 1,100 titles received Pentagon backing – 900 of them since 2005, from Flight 93, Homeland, 24, NCIS, Ice Road Truckers to Army Wives. The Pentagon funds blockbusters that glorify its military might; the CIA collaborates on scripts that reinforce American exceptionalism. For over a century, the U.S. government has actively sponsored thousands of films and television shows to ensure that America is always the hero of its own story. Thus, Hollywood, despite its veneer of creative freedom, has long been a propagator of American ideals.

    South Korea’s investment in K-dramas and K-pop was not accidental either; it was a deliberate strategy to export its culture and reinforce its national identity. China’s film industry is heavily regulated to ensure that its narratives align with its national ethos.

    Nigeria must reclaim its creative space. Our filmmakers must tell stories of resilience, not just ruin. Our writers must craft narratives that inspire national pride, not just despair. Our musicians must sing of hope, not just hedonism.

    Of course, different aspects of foreign governance cultures are worthy of emulation but only after we sieve and winnow them to extract their preferred aspects amenable to our sociocultural institutions. We must always remember that the Libyans, Afghans to mention a few, wildly embraced a dandy dream of  ‘American-NATO-styled freedom, but instead, got trapped in a sinister nightmare. To date, they are paying dearly for it.

    Nigeria’s creative economy stands at an inflection point. With projections estimating a leap from $5 billion in 2022 to $25 billion by 2025, there is an undeniable hunger for indigenous storytelling. Yet, economic prosperity must not overshadow ideological direction. What stories will we tell? What culture will we export? Will our arts heal a fractured nation, or will they deepen her wounds?

    There is an urgent need for strategic investment in arts and literature. Grants and fellowships must be established, not merely to fund artists but to cultivate a sense of purpose in their creations. Our films must not only entertain but edify. Our literature must not only critique but reconstruct. Our music must not only excite but enlighten.

    The government must partner with creatives, not as silent spectators but as active collaborators in shaping a national narrative that inspires rather than disillusions. The American government funds Hollywood. The Chinese government invests in its cultural exports. The Nigerian government must do the same for Nollywood, for literature, for music, and for theatre.

    A nation’s heart beats in its stories. A country without a thriving literary and artistic identity is a body without a soul. Nigeria must reclaim her creative consciousness, not as an afterthought but as a deliberate policy of national development. Our filmmakers must move beyond the monotonous tropes of gender wars and vendetta-laden plots. Our novelists must cease writing solely for Western pity. Our reality shows must no longer be the custodians of our values.

    It’s about time the government partnered with the arts sector to reinvent the Nigerian story while channelling humane governance and patriotism. It is time to make art the bedrock of our nation-building. For in the imagination of the artist, the poet, the filmmaker, and the musician thrives the history and future of Nigeria. A future yet to be written, yet to be sung, yet to be seen. But a future, nonetheless, that belongs to us to create.

    Shall we script a new national narrative? One that does not lament Nigeria but reimagines her. One that does not beg for Western approval but commands global reverence.

    It’s about time we refined the maladies that make the Nigerian dream the fantasy of thieves, slatterns, and blinkered murderers.

  • Sunny’s lyric

    Sunny’s lyric

    Sunny Ajose happened twice upon this world. First, as a gamete, ruffling deep inside his mother’s womb. At his second dawning, he slipped through the birth canal into the beautiful lights of Sunday, February 10, 1946, thus unsettling the chaste universe of Hodonu Oluwafemi Ajose and his wife, Victoria Oladoyinbo (Nee Ojo).

    Sunny was born when the grim bangle of life ornamented fallen cities, oceans and blades of grass. On his birthday, Marshall Islands Military Governor Commodore Ben Wyatt announced the forced relocation of Bikini Atoll’s 167 residents to allow atomic bomb testing on their homeland. He assured the unsuspecting villagers that their sacrifice was “for the good of mankind and to end all wars.” In reality, they were exiled into a harsh struggle for survival, scavenging for food across four islands.

    A day earlier, Soviet Premier Joseph Stalin had delivered his infamous Bolshoi Theatre speech, widely seen as the Cold War’s catalyst, where he subtly declared war on the United States. A month later, in March 1946, former British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, in a speech at Fulton, Missouri, introduced the term “iron curtain” while calling for a global alliance between Europe and the U.S.

    Thus, it could be said that Ajose was birthed into a storm of intrigues. He was born at the dawn of the Cold War, and into a world politically divided by an ‘Iron Curtain.’

    Against the backdrop of these disruptions, Ajose arrived as a bit of calm into his parents’ lives. Unlike the proverbial Ajantala whose impatient bulk pried his mother’s wearied uterus apart till he burst out carved like a demon in a cherub, Ajose invoked no tempest to rock his parents’ world. Rather he arrived to enrich his parents’ vestal lives.

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    And so, it may be said that Ajose, who hailed from Wadon Compound of Boekoh Quarters in Badagry, Lagos, grew up to get his piece of the Nigerian dream by selective pitching of his social and intellectual roots in public service. A quintessential technocrat, Ajose believed that public service is far too precious and fundamental to be left to the whims of feckless characters, and preached constructive patriotism and altruism as a counteraction to the selfishness and greed that has overtime become the norm in some government circuits. Virtue, according to Ajose, should guide human conduct in governance, the economic, social and political circuits, rather than the exception. In and out of the public’s eye,  Ajose endeavoured to do good. But his deeds were neither done as an apology nor extenuation of his fortune and privileges in the world. Ajose did not propagate virtue as a penance for the perceived failings of the political class or the world’s privileged divide; he did not preach selective ethics or morality as a function of artifice, rather he propagated virtuousness as an intrinsic part of public service and humanity.

    The true magic of this broken world, writes Michael Chabon, lies in the ability of the things it contains to vanish, to become so utterly lost that they might never have existed in the first place. It took the untimely death of  Ajose for his family, friends and political associates to discern the hidden essence of these words perhaps. By experiencing the loss of the elder statesman, our understanding of the transience of life deepens in real time.

    There are no ordinary moments. Thus every moment spent with Ajose was pleasurable. You only have to ask any or all of his acquaintances. Talking about him in his biography penned by me, “The Sunny Side of Ajose,” Lagos State Governor, Babajide Sanwo-Olu, likened the experience of knowing him to opening a whole book of knowledge.

    Governor Sanwo-Olu hailed Ajose as a perfect gentleman—hardworking, dedicated, and deeply passionate about Lagos. As a public servant, particularly as Head of Service, Ajose made invaluable contributions to the state’s development, earning well-deserved accolades. For former Lagos Governor and ex-Minister of Works Babatunde Raji Fashola, pinpointing Ajose’s most remarkable trait was no easy task.

    Since their first meeting on August 16, 2002—the day Fashola assumed office as Chief of Staff to then-Governor Bola Ahmed Tinubu—Ajose had profoundly shaped his understanding of the civil service. Fashola recalled his early days in office, overwhelmed by incoming files and correspondence, until Ajose meticulously guided him through ministry acronyms, department structures, and official procedures, marking the start of his civil service education.

    In the foreword of Ajose’s biography, Fashola lauded his strong work ethic, calm demeanor, and exceptional leadership. He admired Ajose’s wisdom in both professional and personal matters, as well as his ability to manage people effectively. He fondly recalled how, late at night, the scent of suya from Ajose’s office served as a morale booster for his team, keeping them energized despite their fatigue.

    Countless testimonials from former colleagues, subordinates, friends, associates, and mentees highlight Chief Sunny Ajose’s commendable work ethic and compassionate leadership. Olabisi Onala, an administrator in the Governor’s Office kitchen department, considers him a father figure, mentor, and guardian. She recalled how he had a way of turning tears into smiles and personally supported her education, funding her Master’s degree while emphasizing that financial constraints should never hinder one’s dreams.

    If you could liken Ajose’s evolution to poetry, it would read like a lyric poem. It would be a stirring verse tacked within the notes of a radiant lyre. It would be a timeless lesson incised in the psyche, and replete with anecdotes worthy of sacred spaces in the bedroom, boardroom and classroom walls.

    Think of it as a timeless tribute to an effervescent life force. Imagine it as a free verse brimming with history even as its stanzas beam with light and gradually evolve like a looking glass into the soul of the precocious child, that, grew into the triumphant man widely revered as Mr Circular.

    Indeed, Ajose’s growth is circular. As his reflection evolves to attain completeness or fullness of form, each stanza of his life cradles different narratives. His  journey unfolds in rhythmic cycles, a story related in looping prosodies of growth. Each phase cradles a distinct essence, yet together they form a seamless whole. The prologue unveils his captivating persona, the foundation upon which he is remembered. Amidst intense lyricism, dazzling hues, and ornate lore gleams enthralling aspects of his southwestern heritage; ancient wisdom meets modern mores as the verse lines interchange morals and values, passed down from his great forbears.

    The cadence deepens, pulsing with dialogues and discourses.

    that excite and fulfil his hankering for knowledge and exceptional wisdom. Everything ranging from philosophy of education to public service and the strategic precepts of ancient and modern governance, crowd these chapters. The latter connotes the blooming of his rational mind, his perceptiveness and strong leadership skills.  Challenges trigger the proverbial moments of rupture—a jarring awakening that arrives, first with the loss of his father, sending shockwaves of grief through him. Yet, from this fracture, clarity is born.

    Beneath his narrative are footnotes explaining the building plots of his masculinity and statesmanship; you would also find in this section his profound thesis on the ethics of public service as well as his superior logic on social re-engineering.

    Though his journey may seem interrupted, it is far from incomplete. In his wake, his deeds continue to shape the world he left behind, etching his legacy in bold relief—his essence whole, his imprint indelible.

  • Beyond fantasy

    Beyond fantasy

    Fantasy is escapist and that is its grandeur. The fantasist sees reality as his captor thus his desire to escape. But the paths to freedom unspool like a hypnotic daydream, in the end.

    Yet Nigerians live their fantasies. Wrapped in their carnal shells, some wield their imagination like a shield; some swing it like a sword—all fencing off a universe of realities.

    Fantasy has uses beyond viewing life through the wrong end of a telescope; it enables you to laugh at reality, argues Seuss. In Nigeria, fantasy is the hovel many scurry into, to escape reality’s tedious pangs. Perhaps because we ultimately covet distractions. Life is hard thus many would retreat to a world of magic and lies, the type celebrated on breakfast TV, political and pornographic reality shows.

    We live for illusions and covet the spectacle of shadows cast on the walls of our minds, like the cave dwellers of Plato’s Republic. In The Republic, Socrates explains that the cave represents the world revealed to us only through the sense of sight. The ascent out of the cave is the journey of the soul into the region of the intelligible, and it requires that the enlightened mind endures four stages of transformation.

    The first involves his imprisonment in the cave; that is our fascination with materialism and our world of illusions. The second involves his release from chains; that is, our contact with the real, sensual world.  Third, he makes his ascent out of the cave; that is, our flirtation with knowledge and the world of ideas. Fourth, he finds his way back into the cave to help his fellows while wrapped in a beam of light.

    But what if the supposedly enlightened mind could only deign his fellow cave dwellers shiny, grey beams resonant of darkness? What if, like the sullied press, the shady revolutionary and corrupt oligarch, he comes shining in brilliant spokes of ambiguity?

    The process of progressing out of the cave is about getting educated and it is a difficult process requiring assistance and sometimes, force. This encapsulates the struggle involved in acquiring beneficial education or ridding a country of dark tyranny. The allegory of the cave intones our struggle to see the truth and to be critical thinkers.

    Millions of Nigerians would resist corruption if they weren’t enslaved to tokens. The struggle for freedom and integrity is often a painful experience. Dreams die and lives get lost, for instance, as Nigeria flounders to insecurity and misgovernance. Against this backdrop, the person leaving the cave may question his beliefs whereas the people in the cave simply accept what they are shown. They rarely question the reality doctored to them.

    The allegory of the cave shows us the relationship between education and truth, bondage and freedom. The battle for freedom and its sustenance is, however, best prosecuted by men and women of catholicity of will, higher learning, and culture. I speak of true patriots and statesmen, ambassadors of Nigerianness and native intelligence. Have we such patriots? Have we such men and women of deep culture?

    The most pernicious aspect of our plight is the disintegration of our cultural and moral complex. A land without both is dead to healing; it becomes prone to rape and colonisation by cultural sovereigns.

    The history of the world pulses with subtle and bodacious seizures of sovereignty by global superpowers, who dominate the ‘third world’ through cultural and political imperialism. The latter often succeeds the former, where they aren’t launched from the twin barrels of an imperialist shotgun.

    While it is fool-hardy to categorise the world into first, second, and third worlds, such specious and flawed taxonomy of nations – oft perpetuated by the media, INGOs, and the academia – facilitates easier recolonisation of poorly governed, impoverished nations of Africa and the Middle East.

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    Yet nations of the so-called ‘First World’ are nothing but varnished tombs of the imperial greatness they hitherto symbolised; scared by their imminent collapse, they craftily recolonise Africa, in particular – plundering her bowels to sustain their fading economies and social systems.

    Having reclassified Africa as the ‘third world,’ they lay siege to the continent, plundering her resources; it’s a familiar plot in which Africans’ greed and ignorance lay the continent open to pillage and trans-generational slavery.

    Nigeria’s lack of a humane, visionary leadership, for so long, rendered her an unbidden offering on an altar of imperialist vultures. This is why Nigeria’s three-tiered leadership must take purposive steps to liberate the country from predatory ‘superpowers’ and their conspirators among INGOs and international lenders. Nigeria must rejig her cultural foundations and moral complex. She must rise from her knees, and quit sucking the rusted end of the wrong spigot.

    The result of such an endeavour would excite a social re-engineering built on character mending and economic restoration in consonance with our peculiar strengths and weaknesses. Restoring cultural dominance would facilitate easier salvage of our society while oiling the engine wheels of our industrial complex. For instance, China, Japan, Germany, Indonesia, and Sweden attained progress by founding nationhood and industry on a cultural experience indigenous to them.

    Nigeria, however, encounters her nemesis in materialism – the vain pursuit of status. A large percentage of the business and political elite live on ill-gotten wealth. Their lives are funded by stolen money and beastly monopolies facilitated by heinous social and political contracts. The middle and the working classes, however, contract as they struggle to maintain membership in the informal social castes imposed upon them by a raptorial ruling class.

    The general run of the masses supposedly dissent but many do so without real awareness of the actuality of forms that define their existence. Plato’s allegory of the cave was meant to explain this. In the allegory, he likens people untutored in the Theory of Forms to prisoners chained in a cave, unable to turn their heads. Plato’s allegory speaks to our individual and collective fate as a nation.

    For Socrates, all virtues were forms of knowledge thus to train someone to manage a business account for PWC, for instance, is to educate him or her in skill. To train them to debate the ethics of a business venture is to educate them on values and morals. A culture that disregards the vital interplay between morality and power writes Hedges, condemns itself to death.

    Such existential truths are scorned by the modern fortune hunter. This disconnect subsists across professions, government, and academia. Nigerian economists, for instance, chant elaborate theoretical models yet know little of how their fancy, soulless economics impact rural poetry and suburban lives.

    Our education and social systems must quit churning out such products of a cultural void, casualties of a system that produces graduates to serve the corrupted system – individuals who have been taught to cheat the system and applaud theft as a shrewd corporate strategy. The true purpose of education must be to make minds, not social cannibals. It must be divorced from a system that bullies the populace to pacify and please authority.

     En route to the 2023 elections, we hoped the process would furnish us with patriots capable of leading Nigeria’s charge back to rebirth. We hoped to elect the aspirants who had proved their mettle in private and public service.

    By 2027, we would know if we chose the ones whose antecedents excite the fervent tribute of a cheer, or those whose past and present incite the passing tribute of a sigh.

  • The Sunny side of Ajose: A tribute

    The Sunny side of Ajose: A tribute

    Some ballads bloom where they are birthed but only a handful thrive on the scenic coast of Badagry where Sunny Ajose spent part of his childhood. His narrative purrs like a ballad of the coastline; the boy who would grow up to become the most accomplished administrator of Lagos State public service was born on a speckled coast shadowed by the southern sun.

    His family house stood rebelliously against nature’s elements; bordered by a restive beach, the steep rake of its tiled roof held courageously against the whipping of the sun and torrential rain. Watching the roof take a beating from the sun and the rain furnished his first imagery of perseverance against life’s punishing elements.

    Years later, the lesson was reprised in his loss of a parent. That was his first brush with misery as a young adult. Ajose came to grips with the sad unpredictability of life: one minute you are busy, living, and the next, you are gone. That was a learning curve. Going forward, he rarely expected life to be magical. Unlike the frantic fantasist, he didn’t live for the illusionist’s promise that a garment shredded to bits may be mended without a seam, or that carnations consumed by fire may be tended to bloom atop the cinders.

    Born February 10, 1946, his untimely demise on Thursday, January 16, 2025, served as a sorrowful punctuation in the annals of the Lagos State public service. Ultimately because his was a life plain-woven with purpose, one that embodied service, integrity, and unfaltering commitment to the ideals of humane governance.

    To have known Hon. Dr. Akinsanya Sunny Ajose (OON) was to have walked through the passageway of wisdom; to have conversed with a man whose breadth of experience spanned decades of institutional reform and dedication to statecraft.

    In 2023, during one of our numerous conversations, he justified his deep yearning to have his biography written—a testament to his legacy. His words were laced with a sense of urgency, not out of vanity but duty. He wanted younger generations of Lagos civil servants to drink from the wellspring of his wisdom, to understand that public service, when done right, is a sacred trust.

    It was a sentiment reinforced by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, who constantly urged him to document his experiences for posterity. Tinubu, an architect of modern Lagos, understood that Ajose’s insights were invaluable blueprints for the future of governance in the state. And so, we embarked on this literary pilgrimage together—a journey that has now, painfully, outlived its subject.

    Spending time with Pa Ajose was akin to stepping into a grand, unfolding maw of Lagos’s evolution. His words were never hurried; they were measured, deliberate, and laced with depth. He did not simply recount history, he animated it. Every recollection, every anecdote, was a lesson in resilience and public morality.

    His ascension in the Lagos State Civil Service was not without its challenges. Appointed Head of Service in 2004 under Governor Tinubu’s administration, he inherited a civil service marred by fiscal constraints, infrastructural decay, and an entrenched culture of bureaucratic lethargy. Lagos was a colossus in motion, yet weighed down by inefficiencies that threatened its future.

    The Lagos he spoke of was one grappling with a revenue intake of N600 million, a figure paltry in contrast to the metropolis’s ever-expanding needs. Slums sprawled across the cityscape, infrastructure was collapsing under the weight of neglect, and the civil service, the engine of governance, was in dire need of recalibration. Ajose did not flinch. He understood that reforming an institution as vast as Lagos’s civil service required both the scalpel and the sledgehammer—subtlety in some places, forceful restructuring in others. His leadership was marked by a meticulous dismantling of corrupt enclaves within the service. He spoke passionately of the motor vehicle registration department, a cesspool of fraud, which he determinedly sought to sanitize despite intense political pressure.

    His commitment to due process wasn’t an abstract ideal, it was his guiding creed. Public service, he often said, was not a transactional endeavour but a transformational one. He preached selflessness, of the need to strip governance of selfish ambition and replace it with altruistic zeal. And Pa Ajose lived his theories. He was not merely a bureaucrat; he was a servant-leader, one who saw beyond the fleeting allure of power and embraced the enduring call of duty.

    What struck me most during our sessions was the confluence of his brilliance and his humanity. Ajose was a man of many parts. He was a technocrat who understood the pulse of the people; an administrator who never lost sight of the human stories behind policy decisions. His interactions with junior colleagues, family, and political contemporaries bore the hallmark of a man who carried power with humility. He was a bridge between generations, a statesman whose counsel was sought after because it was rooted in sapience, not self-interest.

    The lessons he imparted were clear: humility, passion, empathy, integrity, hope, and humaneness. These were not mere virtues to him; they were the scaffolding upon which he built his life. To Ajose, governance was an art, one that required a delicate balance of firmness and compassion. He was not merely interested in policies; he was invested in people. He understood that governance, at its core, was about elevating the human condition.

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    His life’s work was to etch this philosophy into the soul of a flourishing civil service. Eventually, our numerous conversations and deep dives into his experiences, culminated in a biography: The Sunny Side of Ajose – Triumphs and Legacies of Hon. Dr. Akinsanya Sunny Ajose (OON). A title befitting a man whose life radiated warmth, wisdom, and inspiring devotion. It was meant to be unveiled on his 79th birthday, February 10, 2025. But the Almighty God, the Best of Planners, had a different plan. Though he did not live to witness its unveiling, the book remains a luminous guide, a parting gift to the civil servants of Lagos State, a lighthouse that will illuminate their paths long after Pa Ajose had taken his final bow.

    Beyond his administrative acumen, Ajose was also a towering figure in Lagos politics. A chieftain of the All Progressives Congress (APC) and a member of the Governance Advisory Council (GAC), he was the apex leader of the Badagry division. His political sagacity, tempered by years of public service, made him a unifying force within the Lagos APC. His dedication to the development of Badagry and Lagos at large earned him the respect of stakeholders across the state and beyond.

    As we bid him farewell, my heart goes out to his venerable widow, Madam Arin Ajose, a woman of equivalent grace and fortitude. Theirs was a partnership marked by mutual respect and unswerving support, a bond that reflected the very essence and character of their wedlock. Her loss is profound, but so too is her legacy as the wife of a man whose impact will echo through generations.

    Pa Ajose was no ordinary man; he was an institution. His life was a masterclass in leadership, a chronicle of service, and a reminder that the highest calling is not power, but purpose. His departure leaves a void, but his legacy fills his wake. And so, we mourn, but we also celebrate. For in the annals of Lagos State, in the ethos of its civil service, and the pages of literature, Ajose lives on.

  • 2025: Reforms must transcend rhetoric

    2025: Reforms must transcend rhetoric

    As the clock ticks into 2025, Nigeria teeters on a precipice where adversity and hope interlock. The stage is set for a decisive year as the country’s major sectors hum with latent energy: the economy struggles to shed its old skin, politics braces for reform, and the creative industries moot a new narrative. The new year pulses with the promise of rebirth and the threat of regression. Some would call it the epoch of Nigeria’s reckoning—a litmus test of spirit and ambition.

    Against this backdrop of intrigues, a groundswell of apprehension sweeps across the country, beckoning a collective resolve to either seize the moment or risk further decline. In this pivotal year, every facet of national life becomes a battleground of will and transformation as the country’s most significant sectors hurtle between progress and paralysis. The stakes have never been higher, and the journey more profound.

    This is Nigeria in 2025: The economic outlook for 2025 stands at a crossroads of hope and hard truths. President Bola Tinubu’s ambitious tax reform proposals hold the potential to unlock $7.5 billion (about N7.5 trillion) annually, a treasure chest capable of rejuvenating the nation’s fiscal landscape. Yet, this ambition is shadowed by a burgeoning debt-to-GDP ratio, climbing from N97.3 trillion in 2023 to a staggering N138 trillion by late 2024.

    The challenge is clear: reforms must transcend rhetoric. If implemented effectively, these measures could stabilize the naira, curtail inflation, and rebuild investor confidence. However, failure would deepen fiscal woes and push millions further into hardship. To traverse this precarious path, Nigeria must prioritize efficient tax collection, diversify revenue sources, and foster an enabling environment for small businesses. Debt management will demand fiscal discipline and transparency.

    Perhaps the most heartening narrative in this economic tale is the resurgence of local refining capacity. With the Dangote, Port Harcourt, and Warri refineries ramping up operations, Nigeria’s energy sector has shifted from dependency to competition and export potential. This renaissance promises to temper fuel prices and reinforce foreign reserves, heralding a future unchained from imported petroleum.

    Despite global efforts to transition away from fossil fuels, Nigeria’s oil and gas sector remains pivotal. The proposed national credit guarantee company could inject much-needed liquidity, while anti-theft measures aim to boost production. However, over-reliance on this sector is a perilous gamble. Diversification into renewable energy and investment in local refining capacities will be essential for long-term stability.

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    Through it all, Nigeria’s creative economy may experience further reawakening. Buoyed by global recognition of Afrobeats, Nollywood, and literary icons, the sector’s revenue is projected to leap from $5 billion in 2022 to $25 billion by 2025, according to the National Council of Arts and Culture (NCAC).

    The heartbeat of Nigeria’s cultural identity subsists in its storytellers, musicians, and filmmakers. Nollywood’s record-breaking haul in 2024 sets the stage for another stellar year. Meanwhile, Nigeria’s fiction writers continue to elevate her literary reputation globally. Support for this sector through grants and international collaborations will amplify voices that inspire and challenge societal norms. As a soft power tool, Nigeria’s cultural exports hold the potential to reshape perceptions and nurture diplomatic ties.

    The government’s $100 billion growth plan outlines ambitious initiatives: improved infrastructure, digital accessibility, and intellectual property reforms. Yet, creatives must also leverage technology and explore untapped markets. By harnessing strategic partnerships, expanding training programs, and nurturing grassroots talent, the industry could become a cornerstone of Nigeria’s GDP, offering employment and a unifying narrative.

    The agriculture sector remains a stronghold of prospects and optimism. With the government’s tariff waivers and investment incentives, farmers are poised to scale production, tapping into growing regional demand. Yet, challenges such as climate change, outdated practices, and inadequate financing threaten to erode gains. Empowering farmers with access to modern technology and reliable financing will catalyze growth, anchoring food security and economic stability.

    In 2025, the government has committed N826.5 billion to revitalize the sector, underscoring its resolve to enhance food security, generate employment, and reduce food import dependence. Key initiatives include investments in irrigation systems, mechanization, and value-chain development. Efforts to attract foreign direct investment through tariff waivers and agribusiness programs are also expected to transform the sector.

    Despite these plans, food insecurity looms large, exacerbated by climate change and limited modernization. Scaling up food production to meet the growing population’s demands—exceeding 220 million—is paramount. While the sector contributed 28.65% to GDP in 2024, modest growth highlights the need for sustained efforts to strengthen the industry.

    Telecoms, a lifeline for millions, face a tough year. Exchange rate fluctuations threaten profitability, but tariff adjustments and renegotiated leases offer a lifeline. Expanding internet access, especially in underserved areas will unlock new economic and educational opportunities, driving digital inclusion.

    As political tides shift, 2025 will demand accountability and humane leadership. With a national budget expanded by 74.18% to N47.9 trillion, expectations are high. Yet, the real test lies in execution: will this budget translate into meaningful infrastructure, security improvements, and job creation? The political climate, increasingly volatile, may witness a redefinition of Nigeria’s democracy. State actors must address electoral reform, corruption, and regional discontent to maintain stability.

    By May 29, President Bola Tinubu will reach the halfway point of his tenure, a milestone that could shape perceptions of his administration. His decision to implement controversial reforms early in his term was strategic, ensuring hardships fade from voters’ memories if positive outcomes materialize by 2027. Every success strengthens his political standing. In contrast, opposition parties—including efforts to create a “mega party”—face internal fissures and power struggles. Despite these challenges, they will remain significant players in upcoming elections.

    Insecurity casts a long shadow over the country, with insurgencies in the North, communal clashes, and rampant banditry exacting a heavy toll. Despite the defense sector consuming a significant portion of the national budget, many Nigerians remain disillusioned, yearning for safer roads and thriving communities.

    Achieving stability will require collaborative efforts between federal and state governments, strengthened by international partnerships. A combination of technology, intelligence-led operations, and grassroots peacebuilding initiatives is essential. Experts emphasize that a stronger economy, improved welfare for security personnel, and better intelligence gathering will be pivotal.

    Grim statistics from the National Bureau of Statistics reveal that Nigerians paid N2.23 trillion in ransom to kidnappers within a year, while over 614,000 lives were lost.

    Perhaps the most heartbreaking subplot of Nigeria is the erosion of its middle class into 2025. Inflation, unemployment, and taxation have bludgeoned this demographic, leaving many in dire straits. Historically, the middle class serves as the backbone of any nation, driving consumption, innovation, and economic stability.

    In Nigeria, this group has become increasingly vulnerable, caught between rising costs of living and stagnant incomes. Limited access to affordable social services has deepened their plight, making it difficult for families to afford basic necessities or plan for the future. Reviving this social stratum will require intentional policies: affordable housing, access to quality healthcare, and educational reforms that prioritize skills for a modern economy. Without this revival, the dream of shared prosperity will remain elusive.

    No doubt, the narrative of Nigeria in 2025 remains indistinct, its contours shaped by state actors. From policymakers to creatives, farmers to technocrats, this year demands purposeful engagement from all. Whether Nigeria advances or regresses will depend on the collective determination to confront its challenges with clarity and resolve.

    As the year progresses, the measure of success will not be in lofty rhetoric but in tangible progress.

  • The ultimate sacrifice

    The ultimate sacrifice

    The earth is littered with the bones of potentates who believed they were eternal. History thrives on their ruin or renown. Let this guide every Nigerian in public office. No matter how highly placed they are, providence eventually halts their pompous strides and yanks the rug from beneath their pretentious ideals.

    Fresh from the Yuletide, Nigerians must reexamine their commitment to the continuance and survival of the Nigerian project.

    There is no gainsaying the prevailing economic hardships counseled a low-key celebration, with sober recall of the ultimate sacrifices necessitated by President Bola Tinubu’s surgical approach to recalibrating the country’s economy.

    Through our sober recall, it is pertinent to ask if we are ready to salvage this country. We must understand that by saving Nigeria, we ultimately save ourselves.

    We need patriots willing to bleed for the country not those eager to bleed it dry. From insecurity, economic distress and the baleful shadow of indefinite strike, Nigeria has a lot to contend with.

    Last year, the Joe Ajaero-led labour union demanded a minimum wage of N250,000, only for negotiations to whittle it down to N70,000. Still, state governors balked, claiming they could not afford more than N60,000. Nigerians, in turn, questioned why public officers continue to draw extravagant salaries while ordinary citizens are expected to tighten their belts.

    The truth is stark: fewer than ten states can comfortably afford even the previous N30,000 minimum wage. Yet, Nigeria’s public officials—lawmakers in particular—live in opulence, draining resources from an already fragile economy. In the legislature, an obscene dichotomy unfolds daily: while lawmakers revel in luxury, the citizens they represent languish in deprivation.

    The federal government and the National Assembly must make concerted efforts to reduce the astronomical cost of governance, for the current profligacy is unsustainable and morally indefensible.

    The bicameral legislature, a relic of an era that imagined endless bounty, is an anachronism in today’s Nigeria. The maintenance of a Senate and House of Representatives, with their attendant expenses, is no longer a luxury we can afford.

    The numbers are damning. In 2024 alone, Nigeria reportedly budgeted about N724 billion on its National Assembly and 36 State Assemblies. This includes N50 billion for salaries and allowances of lawmakers at both federal and state levels, N294.7 billion specifically for the National Assembly and related bodies, and N379.28 billion for the state assemblies.

    This renders futile, the former Senate President, Ahmed Lawan’s previous argument, the monthly salary of a senator is N1.5m, while that of a member of the House of Representatives is N1.3m, stressing that the alleged N13.5m monthly salary was actually their quarterly office running allowance.

    Recent findings revealed that the Nigerian Senate President actually receives N2.48 million as basic salary while other senators receive N2.26m monthly. Even so, the quarterly office allowance (running cost) for a senator amounts to N52m per annum, while the N8m for a member of the House of Representatives amounts to N32m in a year.

    Switching to a unicameral or single-house legislature at the federal level could lead to substantial savings. Let’s assume we keep the House of Representatives, which has more members. By removing the Senate, we could save about N8.67 billion in legislative salaries and allowances. Moreover, the Senate’s operating costs amount to about N49.14 billion. If we cut overlapping functions and streamline operations, we could save around N50 billion more.

    Another way to cut costs is to make lawmakers part-time and pay them only for the days they actually work. This could cut another 30-40% of the remaining costs, because we wouldn’t be paying regular salaries and many allowances. This approach not only saves money but also incentivises productivity, accountability, and efficiency among lawmakers.

    Nigeria could save around N250 billion every year. This money could be redirected towards improving healthcare, education, and infrastructure.

    This is a pragmatic approach to governance reform that aligns with the country’s economic realities and developmental goals.

    It is never enough to funnel palliatives and incentives to mitigate economic distress. Democracy does not naturally spring forth from the soil of free markets. It must be grounded in self-sacrifice. A healthy democracy must frequently challenge the economic interests of the elites for the benefit of the people. Yet government officials and corporate actors address the economic crisis by funnelling funds and resources into the financial sector because they are conditioned to maintain and manage the existing system rather than transform it.

    Saul observes that the initial objectives of the corporatist movements in 1920s Germany, Italy, and France, which later evolved into fascism, were to transfer power directly to economic and social interest groups, to promote entrepreneurial endeavours in domains traditionally governed by public institutions. And to erase the distinction between public and private interests thereby undermining the concept of the common good. The resonance with our current situation is unsettlingly clear.

    Nigeria’s economic unraveling, exacerbated by speculative commercial interests draining the national treasury, has plunged the working class into unprecedented despair. Crime, a natural corollary of economic distress, escalates daily. Yet, it is not the insurgents or bandits who pose the greatest threat; it is the corrupt civil servants and the money-guzzling legislators, alongside complicit ministers and governors, who undermine the state’s stability.

    President Bola Tinubu must recognise the gravity of the economic despair and respond with a governance ethos grounded in transparency and compassion. No matter what his advisers might counsel, dismissing the miseries of the masses with the platitude “the end justifies the means” could seem prejudiced and perilous.

    Every presidential expenditure, regardless of its justifications, must avoid ostentation and disconnect to a populace burdened by stringent economic policies. Even certifiably modest expenditures are susceptible to misinterpretation and will only amplify public discontent.

    Read Also: Why Nigerians must support President Tinubu’s reforms, by LP Rep

    The government must lead with empathy, ensuring that every presidential expenditure—no matter how justified—is seen as prudent rather than extravagant. Tone-deaf governance risks igniting public outrage.

    His ministers must temper their public statements with restraint and tact, in recognition of the fragile social fabric and potential for incendiary rhetoric to ignite unrest.

    Perhaps the most heartbreaking subplot of Nigeria’s travails is the erosion of the middle class. Inflation, unemployment, and taxation have squeezed this demographic, leaving many struggling to maintain their status. Historically, the middle class serves as the backbone of any nation, driving consumption, innovation, and economic stability.In Nigeria, this group has become increasingly vulnerable, caught between rising costs of living and stagnant incomes.

    Reviving this social stratum will require intentional policies: affordable housing, access to quality healthcare, and educational reforms that prioritize skills for a modern economy. Without this revival, the dream of shared prosperity will remain elusive.

    The political class must also understand that the rage brewing within the disenfranchised working class forebodes a dangerous backlash. My visits across Nigeria have revealed former manufacturing towns now ghostly remnants of their prosperous past, their residents engulfed in gloom.

    This pervasive hopelessness drives many into the arms of demagogues and charlatans, who peddle utopian fantasies to a desperate populace. Unless we swiftly re-enfranchise these workers and provide tangible hope, our democracy teeters on the brink of collapse.

    It is incumbent upon us to implement humane reforms with urgency and conviction. The federal government and the National Assembly must work together to reduce the cost of governance, transitioning to a unicameral legislature and part-time legislative roles perhaps.

    Only through such measures can we hope to restore trust, alleviate the people’s suffering, and stave off the impending crisis that threatens Nigeria’s very foundation.

  • 2025: Beyond ruin and rebirth

    2025: Beyond ruin and rebirth

    As we set out in 2025, shall we aspire to the possibility of rebirth? This minute, our collective persona as a nation manifests in the governor who stole $4.2 million from his state’s coffers and stashed it to fund his vanities abroad, not minding what good such loot could do in resolving the educational, healthcare, and infrastructure woes of his state.

    It is reflected in the shenanigans of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) governor who is seeking a plea bargain to escape punishment for his alleged conspiracy to perpetrate procurement fraud running into billions of naira, among others.

    It is reflected in the former female Minister of Petroleum, who raped Nigeria silly until we suffered the industrial strokes of scarcity and recession. Yet she frantically fights to walk free and her cronies are eager to let her off with a pat on the back. Thus the protracted drama of her prosecution at home and abroad.

    Lest we forget the governors looting billions of naira via “security votes” and hyperbolic capital projects, outrageous life pensions, among other frills,  even as poverty, policy failure, and insecurity devastate the citizenry and crucial social institutions on their watch.

    Our collective personae flourish in the antics of youths feverishly flying ethnic flags in support of their ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ lawmaker, governor, minister, and ex-CBN governor irrespective of the atrocities committed by them and the criminal charges levelled against them.

    Public officers in the executive, legislature, and judiciary embody our frantic culture of dubious citizenship. They legitimise our culture of being, which enables and justifies a public officer’s immediate descent into a basement of opportunism right after emerging as an elected representative.

    The latter locks himself or herself in that amoral cellar, against the ethical rungs and wise counsel of sterling statesmanship. As the citizenry sinks in wretchedness, he embarks on a quest of inordinate acquisition and counts his spoils in material possessions.

    He is, however, a mere fragment of our bigger cultural dilemma. Think of him as the pointed end of the spear of in our coliseum of greed, feverish pillaging, and criminality. Think of him as the trigger in our gunnery of violence, ethnoreligious carnage, and sexualised menace.

    In concert with like personae prowling Nigeria’s corridors of power, he reinvents with creative malice, the penetrative outcrops of our national maelstrom. Optimists would call them salvageable ogres from our primeval wild but their cruelty attains jarring resonance thus stifling the possibility of rebirth.

    They are our decadence. Our disease. Like the millions of citizenry they supposedly represent, they are products of our moral void, the sickly stems bearing our poisonous petals. Little wonder we suffer a carnage of incarnations.

    Yet even as we have rightly identified their emergence as an affliction of the eye and disease of the mind, our chances at healing are hindered by chinks in our surgical armour: the fissures of ethnoreligious bias, illiteracy, willful degeneracy, greed, poverty, savage ego, and sheer malevolence.

    These constitute severe impediments to our healing. Thus, as usual, we corrupt the debate on our complicity. We should be discussing and taking decisive steps to rid governance of their savage afflictions but they continually hoodwink Nigerians into a thick emotional fog over several issues of governance and nationhood.

    At the slightest prompt, the citizenry engage each other in intense bickering, often in defence of their ethnic brothers and sisters, irrespective of the latter’s misdemeanour. The people fall for their gimmick, threatening war and secession from the Nigerian enterprise in solidarity with their dubious representatives.

    Read Also: I’m focused on building a model nation for future generations — Tinubu

    It’s a familiar scene, a Nigerian reality that often resounds like the fable of the doomed Odysseus and the labouring ships. In the backdrop of these shameful proceedings, the argument persists in academia, social and political circuits, that the future is blurry and bleak due to youth absence in politics. But the youth had been in politics as armed thugs, assassins, arsonists, and internet trolls for several years.

    Lest we forget our more “youths” in their 60s, 70s, and 80s, controlling the country’s ruling and opposition political parties.

    Their clannish pride bequeath the country’s leadership to their wards to sustain their legacies even as they draft boondocks young as cannon fodder and enforcers of their never-ending cycle of sleaze and mayhem.

    But the youth are hardly the prey they are thought to be. They are often willing participants in a dehumanising ritual of violence and bloodshed.

    This minute, the image persists of the nation’s youth as dispensable tools of specific and random politicians. Unlike the artist’s immobile masterpiece, sculpted in bronze and stone, such youths evolve like plasticine, easily malleable and amenable to devious plots.

    Some have attributed their afflictions to structural banes and the perverse culture of citizenship by which they are weaned and ushered into adulthood.

    In the wake of plausible and often far-fetched analyses, too many ‘patriots’ conveniently absolve themselves of blame. Some propound the tragic theory of Nigerians as being innately incapable of self-determination and self-governance.

    These arguments have over time attained a language of their own and thus evolved as a dialect of dissent and exaggerated self-abnegation. The nation’s elite frequently marshals clashing precepts as solutions and in condemnation of the status quo according to their biases.

    A more damning view identifies the youths’ persistent claims of victimhood as a consequence of their sense of entitlement. Between hyperbole and informed sophistry, Nigeria suffers the affliction of intellectual miscreants and promising youth-turned-fetal-adults.

    The coordinated tragedies afflicting our consciousness daily, append the only real structure to our lives as impoverished Nigerians. From burdensome realities of fast-slipping youth, and recurrent rites of bigotry to the ethical quandary of coping with strict moral codes of adulthood and ideal society, our lives obscure in purpose and meaning. Thus the scorning of ethics by the youths for fast, illicit riches even as ripples of their actions keep hundreds of millions more in binds of despair.

    Consequently, the revolutionary dissent that sprouts from oppression is pitiless and unbending. It radically splits our world into ‘insensitive ruling class’ and ‘clueless lower class,’ ‘elite’ and ‘downtrodden,’ ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots.’ It fosters even more fragmented discord that continually pits Nigerian Christians against Muslims, Hausa against Igbo, Igbo against Yoruba, and Itsekiri against Urhobo.

    While this piece too may resound as hackneyed howl and lamentation, it needs to be said that our ultimate solution subsists in our capacity for introspection and change that comes from within.

    Can any of the existing political parties foster a progressive nation? Pundits aver that they are programmed to a recurring cycle of self-destruct and rebirth while showing occasional flashes of brilliance and daring against familiar odds. But it’s all smoke and mirrors.

    Greening the Nigerian pasture is not achievable in a sprint or marathon. Think of it as a cross-country run. It is not a race winnable in four years. But who cares?

    As we advance, President Bola Tinubu’s administration must rid Nigeria of a culture of public governance dependent on administrative corruption and lifeboat solutions. To truly empower the citizenry, his administration must actualise a stable electricity supply and a better road and marine infrastructure; revive the agricultural economy, and ensure that all the refineries deemed to be currently working are not eventually sabotaged.

    Systems thrive by their human elements thus Nigerians humanise our systems and dehumanise them. The President must also be wary of the human factors that hinder the successful implementation of most policies and Social Intervention Programmes (SIPs).

  • Quiet heroes of 2024

    Quiet heroes of 2024

    Some years are remembered for the wars they birthed, others for the peace they sustained. Yet, 2024 will be etched in Nigeria’s memory as a year of trials by flood and fire, famine and rigour.

    In the storm-tossed annals of the year, no figure looms larger than the vulnerable Nigerian—a silent warrior navigating tempests both natural and manmade. From the floodwaters of Maiduguri to the scorched remnants of Bodija; from the ruins of economic collapse to the invisible sacrifices of villagers displaced from their homes by bandits in the northwest and vengeful soldiers prowling Okuama, in the Delta; the vulnerable Nigerian has borne the weight of Nigeria’s failures.

    His most recent fate rattled in September, in the birth of a deluge. The waters rose, first as whispers, slithering through the streets of Gwange like a reptilian beast, until it became a roar that swallowed homes and histories. The collapse of the Alau Dam, on September 9, unleashed an apocalyptic flood, submerging Gwange and Maiduguri in chaos. Blind grandmother Zara Aji, plucked from the deluge by her teenage grandson, Mohammed, became a symbol of love defying calamity. Mohammed’s strength—wading through waters that clawed at him with relentless ferocity was a living metaphor for hope enduring even as the world drowned around him.

    The collapse of the Alau Dam was a calamity foretold—years of neglect had weakened its structure, and torrential rains became the final blow. What followed was not merely a flood but a merciless erasure of lives, homes, and livelihoods. The blind, the elderly, and the disabled bore the brunt of this disaster, their vulnerabilities amplified by society’s indifference.

    En route to the September deluge, Nigeria startled, on January 16, to a fire outbreak in Bodija, Ibadan, Oyo State – and this set the tone to a slew of calamities for a citizenry still grappling with a comatose economy and the austerity imposed by removal of fuel subsidy and floatation of the naira. President Bola Tinubu’s gospel of “Renewed Hope” indeed knelled emptily to a people assailed by soaring food prices and hardships that outstrip their means.

    The government’s plea for patience and understanding predictably fell on ears tuned to the dirge of unfulfilled promises by previous administrations. The man who cannot afford to eat today will not be consoled by promises of a feast tomorrow.

    Read Also: Nigeria in talks with Saudi Arabia to strengthens economic ties

    Yet amid the hardships, 2024 has been a year when survival was an act of rebellion. And in this rebellion, the vulnerable Nigerian has stood tall—battered yet unbowed, invisible yet indomitable. While the world looked toward the metropolises of power for its champions, this individual emerged as a quieter yet more profound figure of resilience from the shadows. 

    In 2024, the Nigerian people—scattered across bustling markets, flooded streets, and impoverished neighbourhoods—became a paragon of this truth. Consider the Abayomis, a family in Orile-Agege, Lagos. Once part of the middle class, they now navigate the shadowy edges of poverty. Kunle Abayomi, a civil servant, fights the relentless battle of stretching N100,000 to feed his family of six. His wife, Folasade, juggles dual roles—educator by day, trader by night—while their children, eyes wide with dreams, watch their parents’ struggle with the stoicism of veterans.

    Inflation, the silent thief at 32%, ravages the Abayomis’ earnings. Kunle’s paycheck, a mere ghost of sufficiency, vanishes like dew under the sun of escalating costs. For Wale, the eldest son, the Nigerian Dream—a vision of prosperity—has dimmed into a distant mirage.

    No doubt, the plight of those submerged by the Borno floods or left homeless by the Ibadan disaster is heart-wrenching. Yet, beyond these calamities lies a deeper wound—the pervasive economic hardship that has gripped millions. Aside from the  Abayomis, families like the Ezeigbos of Surulere fight to keep afloat in an economy where survival is a gamble. Chidi Ezeigbo, an electronics trader, and his wife, Nkem, a vegetable vendor, embody this struggle. Each day is a wager, their efforts constantly undercut by fluctuating exchange rates and rising prices.

    Across Nigeria, economic hardship did not just strain wallets; it reshaped the very fabric of family life. Traditional gender roles, long enshrined in the patriarchal ethos, began to blur as the archetypal patriarch, once a figure of unchallenged authority, now shares his throne with women who step into roles once deemed unconventional. For instance, Folasade Abayomi, Nkem Ezeigbo, and countless others are not just wives or mothers; they are breadwinners and strategists, navigating the maze of survival with ingenuity and resolve. Yet, this shift is not without its tensions. For several families, the shifting balance of financial power sowed discord, challenging long-held notions of authority and unity.

    For decades, the Nigerian Dream shimmered as a lighthouse of hope—a promise of upward mobility, wealth, and security. Today, it stands fractured, its once-clear vision obscured by the haze of economic turmoil.

    The family, once a solid institution, now stands like a cracked mirror, reflecting the distortion of a once-cherished social ideal. For many it’s prosperity, for others, its career success, stardom or decent living. The parameters for ascertaining true prosperity varies from family to family, from one individual to another.

    Gender roles have shifted, authority has been questioned, and the lines between right and wrong have blurred beyond recognition, argued Adeyinka Somide, a sociologist and retired headteacher.

    As families struggle to recalibrate their lives in the wake of economic upheaval, they are faced with the harsh truth: survival often demands compromise. Parents who once preached virtue learnt to permit some ‘harmless’ vice. Sons and daughters, once guided by the moral teachings of their homes, now wander through a world of crime and moral ambiguity, driven by a sheer will to survive.

    No one can pretend we didn’t see this coming. The signs had always been evident as the noonday sun, looming for decades. Many saw it unfold but preferred to shrug it off, imagining that the ship of state was still on course, even as it drifted towards the gorge.

    But the worst has dawned in real-time. The consequences pervade the country, palpable in the air, like a suffocating fog clinging to every breath.

    In 2024, vulnerable Nigerians become a mirror reflecting the best and worst of our collective humanity. Their lives tell stories of a country that has failed its most fragile citizenry yet relies on their silent strength to persevere.

    Let their travails remind us that our survival as a nation hinges on the survival of Nigeria’s most fragile. As the floodwaters recede and the flames die down, the scars remain—on the land, on the people, and on the collective conscience of a nation grappling with severe economic hardships imposed by surgical policy reforms. These scars are a challenge to policymakers, and aid organisations, to ensure that vulnerability does not mean invisibility.

    The government, social workers, activists, and survivors must work together to achieve systemic change: better infrastructure, inclusive disaster response plans, and targeted support for the marginalized.

    The vulnerable Nigerian stands as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, reminding us that while economic hardship and nature’s wrath may be inevitable, our response to them is not. In their survival, they teach us that resilience is not a gift but a shared responsibility. They are the epitomes of courage, the bearers of burdens, and the silent architects of hope.

    The poetry of their endurance embellishes the Nigerian narrative of 2024.

  • Let’s nurse minds, not social cannibals

    Let’s nurse minds, not social cannibals

    Nigerians are a curious breed. Think of us as the proverbial coastal dwellers dying of thirst. We complain of parched tongues, but every day, we defecate in our fresh springs and struggle to slake our thirst with poisonous waters from abroad.

    Beyond metaphor, Nigeria must be rescued from cognitive dissonance; the mental racket that triggers the Nigerian lust to relocate abroad and sustains it.

    Ultimately, it poisons our wellsprings of civilisation and knowledge: culture, family and academia. This corruptive mentality pervades the country’s educational and cultural institutions, aggravating the brain drain that robs Nigeria of the allegiance and contributions of promising citizenry.

    The multiple failures that beset the country, from the bungled economy to our subversive partisanship, to our lack of universal health care, to protracted terrorism, and the neocolonialist afflictions of our politics and media, can be adduced to the institutions that produce and sustain our political elite.

    Our local schools and even the elite schools most Nigerians throng abroad, hardly teach students to question and think. They focus instead on creating legions of effective systems managers via standardised tests and passive submission to authority.

    Eventually, when the systems fail the managers, they scurry out of the country in search of greener pastures abroad. When the going gets tough, they simply pack up and leave.

    The responsibility for the collapse of the Nigerian economy runs from the corridors of power, through the media soapbox to the lecture theatres of the academia; it pervades our banking halls, the comatose industry and the random trade zones of municipal sidewalks.

    Scholarship is crucial to the rejuvenation of our comatose state thus Nigeria must furnish an educational system that facilitates fearless intellectual inquiry; one that is constructively critical of authority, fiercely independent, and selfless.

    We must quit organising learning around minutely specialised disciplines, tapered solutions, and rigid structures designed to produce predetermined answers. As the government fixates on science education, it must equally furnish our arts and humanities.

    Nigeria must rejig her cultural foundations and ethical complex – and this is achievable through a partnership between the government and the arts & humanities. The result of such an endeavour would excite a social re-engineering built on character mending and economic restoration in consonance with our peculiar strengths and weaknesses.

    Restoring our cultural dominance would facilitate easier salvage of our society, particularly the engine wheels of our industrial complex. China, Japan, Germany, Indonesia, Sweden, among others, attained progress by founding their governance on a cultural experience indigenous to them.

    The wild pursuit of materialism renders large segments of our business and political elite addicted to mindless acquisition of ill-gotten wealth. Thus the ceaseless cases of corruption in public office. The lives of several culprits are funded by stolen money and beastly monopolies facilitated by heinous social and political contracts.

    Read Also: First Lady’s empowerment programme provides for the elderly

    On the flip side of the equation, the working class diminishes and struggles to maintain membership in the informal social caste imposed upon it by a raptorial ruling class.

    The general run of the masses supposedly dissents but many do so without any real awareness of the actuality of forms that define their existence. Plato’s allegory of the cave was meant to explain this. In the allegory, he likens people untutored in the Theory of Forms to prisoners chained in a cave, unable to turn their heads. Plato’s allegory speaks to our individual and collective fate as a nation.

    For Socrates, all virtues were forms of knowledge thus to train someone to manage a business account for Price Water Cooper, for instance, is to educate him or her in skill. To train them to debate the ethics of a business venture is to educate them on values and morals. A culture that disregards the vital interplay between morality and power, writes Hedges, condemns itself to death.

    Such existential truths are scorned by the modern fortune hunter. And the disconnect subsists across professions, government, and academia. Nigerian economists, for instance, chant elaborate theoretical models yet know little of how their fancy, soulless economics impact rural poetry and suburban lives.

    Our educational and social systems must quit churning out such products of a cultural void, casualties of a system that produces graduates who have been taught to cheat the system and applaud theft as a shrewd corporate strategy.

    The true purpose of education must be to make minds, not social cannibals. Education must furnish us with patriots capable of leading Nigeria’s charge back to rebirth.

    A recourse to educational foundations, in the light of Arnold’s 1869 treatise, could be in Nigeria’s best interest. This is attainable by conscious endeavour. President Bola Tinubu could lay the foundation for such a monument by increasing Nigeria’s education budget to 18 per cent or thereabouts, from the disgraceful fraction – usually less than seven per cent – budgeted over the years.

    The foundations of scholarship and knowledge must be reconstructed to guarantee more progressive responses to internal problems of social advancement: problems of work and wages, of families and homes, of morals and the true value of life.

    Our quest for effective public governance can only be realised through the guidance of skilled thinkers, and a synergy between a public service that works and a humane corporate business sector.

    Nigeria could take a cue from Finland’s educational system. The transformation of the Finnish education system began some 40 years ago as the key propellent of the country’s economic recovery plan. Educators had little idea it was so successful until 2000, when the first results from the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), a standardised test given to 15-year-olds in more than 40 global venues, revealed Finnish youth to be the best young readers in the world.

    Three years later, they led in math. By 2006, Finland was first out of 57 countries (and a few cities) in science. In the 2009 PISA scores released last year, the nation came in second in science, third in reading and sixth in math among nearly half a million students worldwide.

    There are no mandated standardised tests in Finland, apart from one exam at the end of students’ senior year in high school. There are no rankings, no comparisons or competition between students, schools or regions. Finland’s schools are publicly funded. School managers at all levels are educators, not businessmen or politicians. Every school has the same national goals and draws from the same pool of university-trained educators.

    The result is that a Finnish child has a good shot at getting the same quality education irrespective of his or her descent. The differences between the weakest and strongest students in Finland are the smallest in the world, according to the most recent survey by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD).

    True knowledge essentially translates to being an emissary of truth, hope, superior culture and progress. It is never simply to teach bread-winning, furnish teachers for the public schools or vocation for the unemployed. It should above all, be an appendage of that fine adjustment between what Du Bois calls reality and the flourishing knowledge of life – an improvement of civilisation and a solution to its seemingly intractable problems.

    The end product of such an educational process would be less likely to abscond in the face of odds because he or she must have learnt to courageously vie for truth and progress, not for vulgar repute or profit.

  • Rage is a Nigerian marketplace

    Rage is a Nigerian marketplace

    There is a tragic theatre peculiar to the Nigerian public space. The performance unfolds in our virtual and physical domains, where fervent voices rise and ebb in a chorus of fabricated sympathy—a spectacle of outrage measured not by principle, but by partiality.

    When news of Labour Party (LP) scribe, Dele Farotimi’s arrest flickered across cyberspace, reactions swelled in a tidal wave of indignation. His arrest and subsequent trial for alleged defamation of legal luminary, Chief Afe Babalola (SAN), ignited a bonfire of outrage – a flame that crackles with righteous fury but that refuses to burn for the thousands of displaced souls whose homes and livelihoods have been ravaged by banditry and floods. They are huddled, as you read, under tarpaulin skies and a dark pall of uncertainty in Nigeria’s Northeast and Northwest.

    Against the backdrop of disjointed but dubious empathy, it’s forgivable to liken Nigerians’ hypocrisy to a chiaroscuro, a dance of shadow and light, where the spotlight of concern dims at will. On this note, author and social commentator, Reno Omokri’s take stabs like a surgeon’s scalpel. Omokri notes how several Nigerians dismissed Leah Sharibu’s predicament thus: “Who is she? Just one Aboki girl” and not worthy of their sustained interest.

    When Leah Sharibu was abducted into the jaws of terror for refusing to renounce her faith, where were the fiery hashtags and trending chants of liberation? For “2,194 days,” Sharibu has languished in the underworld of terror, her youth corrupted and mortgaged to assuage bestial, selfish interests. Yet, Sharibu defamed no one. She was never accused of slander. Her only crime was her creed.

    How many keyboard warriors pounded her name into the virtual stream of trending algorithms? How many pulpit-pounding pastors, politicians, and rights activists, now chanting the gospel of Farotimi’s freedom, spared a breath for Leah’s deliverance? Perhaps she was too remote, too “ordinary,” too much a girl from the “unimportant” Northeast. In the scales of public concern, her innocence weighed less than the feather of political capital.

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    As Omokri points out, “Gambari pa Fulani ko lejo ninu” — when kin slays kin, it is no crime. The old axiom rings true, its cynicism now a prophecy fulfilled. Despite its flaws, the justice system merely reflects the greater rot: a populace that adjudicates guilt and innocence through the lens of marketable bias.

    Sharibu’s plight, seemingly irrelevant to Nigeria’s political elite and social media influencers, exemplifies a grotesque empathy hierarchy. Farotimi’s saga, though legally intricate, pales in moral urgency compared to her fate. Yet, the nation has chosen its martyr—the man with the megaphone over the girl with inspiring resolve.

    Farotimi’s supporters have weaponized their indignation, functioning like a lynch mob, dismissing the right of Chief Afe Babalola to seek legal redress. In their view, Farotimi’s book is gospel; to question its contents is heresy. But the justice system exists to sift truth from fiction, not to bend to the mob’s whims. Farotimi’s opportunity to prove his claims is now before the court, where evidence—not emotion—must reign.

    The theatre of outrage, indeed, furnishes a grotesque performance. Each actor dons the costume of justice while wielding the dagger of bias. It’s vintage artifice. Farotimi’s supporters passionately shriek for justice and liberty, but their outrage is conveniently soundless when the Southeast drowns in a Monday ritual of enforced paralysis. In that region, every week begins with terror— as the citizenry, frightened and browbeaten, observe a “sit-at-home” at the mercy of a decree scribbled in blood by faceless gunmen. Shops are shuttered, dreams get deferred, even as lives hang on the noose of anarchy.

    Yet, the silence is deafening as those who should speak cower, fearful of offending the sensibilities of their “own.” They hide behind platitudes and equivocations, refusing to condemn the terror that cripples their homeland. Meanwhile, traders lock their doors, children miss their lessons, and the pulse of commerce slows to a deathly throb. Where is the outrage?

    See how quickly the tempest swirled around Farotimi’s case – a storm of hashtags and indignation. Yet, when entire villages are razed, when children wade through floodwaters polluted by the greed of cement giants in Ewekoro and Ibeshe, the winds of outrage fall still. The cries of displaced farmers and poisoned villagers dissolve into the ether. Their miseries do not trend; their plight does not generate clicks. Their suffering, it would seem, lacks the glamour of a courtroom drama and the sparkle of an urban cause.

    The theatre of outrage is a Nigerian marketplace, where vendetta is cloaked in a ruse and merchandised as virtue. If controversy does not fit the script of tribal or ideological bias, it fades into the fog of forgotten news. What manner of conscience shudders at a man’s arrest but shrugs at a child’s captivity? What kind of patriotism chants for Farotimi’s freedom while the chains around Leah Sharibu and the Monday prisoners of the Southeast rust into permanence?

    This selective morality is nothing new. Some would call it the heritage of a divided nation, where every ethnic crack oozes suspicion. It manifests across the country’s media platforms, turning our ideological soapboxes into hubs of explosive carnage.

    Social media, that digital amphitheatre, magnifies this duplicity. Here, intellectuals masquerade as hooligans; activists don the cloaks of opportunists. Every cause is a stage, every tragedy a prop, every outrage a performance rehearsed for maximum applause. They market indignation like a product, packaged and sold to the highest bidder of attention.

    In this virtual wilderness, we relive the infernal crud of frantic personae: the political animal, apolitical pacifist, hyperbolic ‘influencer,’ data-fabulous millennial, and the defiant Gen Z, scud to the shore of national consciousness on the world wide web – all hoisting tribal and sentimental banners. Whatever the bent of their politics, they cuddle one prejudice and cringe from the other as their vanities dictate.

    Such is the tenor of political correctness that has seen many clash in defence and furtherance of random bigotries or a desperate demagogue. Journalists, activists, rights activists, and failed political aspirants afflict our social space like pitiless hooligans, mistaking lava for wit and molten banality for intellect. Their voices weigh like a thundercloud; whether debating celebrity scuffles or their political preferences, their passions sparkle and flit from fetid intelligence to brilliant witlessness.

    If we are to heal, we must abandon this duplicitous dance. The outrage that burns for one must burn for all. The justice that we demand for Dele Farotimi must be the justice that we demand for Leah Sharibu. The freedom that we crave for urban activists must be the freedom that we crave for displaced villagers and terror-stricken children. Our patriotism must be whole, not fractured; our conscience, be a mirror, not a mask.

    Young Nigerians must exercise caution in choosing their role models. It is easy to be swayed by voices that loudly condemn the state of the nation, but not all who decry Nigeria’s failures seek her restoration. Many are simply opportunists in waiting, men and women who will seize power not to heal, but to gorge themselves on the spoils of a broken system.

    Hate, in all its polished deceit, must be unmasked. For as long as we coddle it, it will devour us. The flames of selective rage may feel righteous, but they will consume the very nation we claim to defend. The theatre of outrage must give way to a cathedral of genuine justice—a sacred space where every Nigerian’s pain is acknowledged, and every injustice confronted.