Category: Olakunle Abimbola

  • 2027: Different strokes

    2027: Different strokes

    Different folks, different strokes, goes that rhyming, still rather jaded cliche.  But it is as sharp as any to paint the government/opposition contrast towards 2027.

    The one reeled out stats to prove potent antidote is here to fix endemic problems.  The other serenade the economic doom, as treasured electoral tool. 

    A soapy serenata of doom and gloom is, after all, much easier than rigorous policy alternatives: to gyp the naive, rile the angry and push the pressured!

    How’re they so blest, you’d say!  Trouble, though: the situation is dynamic.  What if the government’s stats bloom into a pleasant reality? Checkmate opposition? Ha!

    Still, before conking the opposition tactics — or none — perhaps the government too, as opposition, would have trodden that same cynical path!

    Remember how the Lai Mohammed ACN, and later, APC formidable machine sent the Jonathan (dis)order running helter-skelter, until it electorally ran it out of town in 2015?

    Different folks, different strokes!

    Still, given the impressive stats President Bola Tinubu reeled out in his October 1 broadcast, there seems a clear difference between the Jonathan plumbing; and the sense of a new rise — with very verifiable landmarks — which the speech presented.

    True, the president sold a dummy, which only the alert could have beaten: that bit about Nigeria having, in 1960, 120 secondary schools to a pupil population of 130, 000; aside only two tertiary institutions: the Yaba College of Technology, Lagos, and the University of Ibadan. 

    Sixty-five years later: a virtual, if welcome, explosion: 274 universities, public and private, 183 polytechnics, 236 colleges of education, 23, 000 secondary schools. 

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    But what about the parallel explosion in population: 45 million (1960) to an estimated 237.5 million (2025)? 

    Leaving out the youth population now clanging for school space kills any logical analogy between now and 65 years ago.  With that clear gap — deliberate or coincident? — we can’t say whether educational access is better today than in 1960.

    But beyond that flabbiness, most others stats are tight.  They indeed give cause for hope — not happenstance hope, but hope that logically crowns gruelling, hard work.

    Indeed, Premium Times just ran a fact-check through the president’s claims; and the nine were deemed true. 

    That second-quarter 2025 posted a 4.23% growth (against IMF’s projection of 3.4%), the highest in four years; that inflation, at 20.12% in August, has been the lowest in three years; that Nigeria’s foreign reserves, at US$ 42.03 billion, are the highest in six years: since 2019; that tax-to-GDP ratio has risen from less than 10% in 2023 to 13.5% in just over two years.

    The remaining claims: aside surplus in five consecutive trade quarters grossing N7.46 trillion by Q2 2025, manufactured exports from Nigeria soared by 173%; crude oil production is up: from one million in 2023 to 1.68 million barrels-a-day in 2025; a solid mineral boom: coal mining leaping from -22% to 57.5%; better sovereign credit profile by global rating agencies; the CBN cut interest rate, if marginally, for the first time since 2020.

    No one — so far — has fact-checked the president’s claim that rail infrastructure has grown by 40% and water transportation by 27%.  But unlike pre-2015 when hardcore infrastructure were rare, rail and big road legacy projects are common fare.

    The president said the 284-km Kano-Katsina-Moradi standard gauge rail was nearing completion.  That done, the next step is to link Ibadan with Abuja, and modern rail, linking coastal Lagos-Ibadan-Abuja-Kaduna-Kano-Katsina-Maradi would be a reality!

    That itself would be the deepest penetration of modernized rail since 1960.  With that should come big import freight from Lagos to Nigeria’s landlocked neighbours: Chad, Niger, Burkina Faso, Mali, etc. 

    That trade boon should translate into rail, as a transport sub-sector, contributing more to GDP.  The sturdier the GDP, the doughtier the local economy, the stronger the Naira, the lower the inflation, the higher the standard of living and the lower the poverty rate.

    These indices, other things being equal, signify an economy on the rebound.  In any case, that’s the picture the ruling party is pushing.

    But the opposition — in full panic mode or wilful delusion? — would rather luxuriate in the current blight; and wish it continued, at least for their 2027 electoral gain.  That, wholesale, appears their strategy so far.

    Take Peter Obi, the most prominent pretender, among the lot, to subversive data.  Obi merrily hanged himself with own words, that same noose he confected for others.

    Hear him: “By the end of 2007, our total debt was about N2.5 trillion, only 10% of GDP, after President Obasanjo’s government secured debt forgiveness of over US$ 30 billion.  By 2014,” he added, “Nigeria had become Africa’s largest economy and was primed to achieve middle-income status.”

    Yet, by 2015 — with “Africa’s largest economy”: by re-basing, that statistical wonder, by the way! — 12 states, out of Nigeria’s 36, could not pay salaries!  It’s yet another manifestation of Obi’s notorious plastic approach to issues!

    But the story here is not even that statistical plasticity.  It’s Obi identifying with the Obasanjo ancien regime, routed under fall guy Goodluck Jonathan in 2015, as his prescribed future paradise! 

    The Obasanjo-era “reforms” posted dire infrastructural deficits.  One reason: the US$ 12 billion, paid the Paris Club to cancel Nigeria’s US$ 31 billion debt could have been invested in infrastructure, which should have spurred the economy — a terrible opportunity cost. But post-2015 reforms are changing that infrastructure decay. 

    If you doubt, check out — all post-2015 — the Lagos-Ibadan standard-gauge rail and revamped expressway; and the Second Niger Bridge, into Obi’s South East homeland, which never leapt off campaign videos, all through the PDP years!  Without roaring infrastructure, how can you grow an economy?

    Beyond cynically skewing statistics to game the unwary; and whining over challenges instead of providing clear solutions, Obi’s thinking is bland on almost all scores!

    Atiku Abubakar?  The 2023 self-proclaimed “northern” candidate, strutting in glorious ordinariness which he mistakes for political exceptionalism, is busy denying non-issues instead sharing fresh ideas — which he never had — with the polity.

    The other day, he would protect Yoruba interests as president.  The next, he would stand down for a younger candidate!  When comes the next gush of denials?  Gosh!

    Former President Jonathan?  The good riddance to the PDP-era bad rubbish, with his electoral spanking of 2015, is busy shopping for a sure ticket, from either PDP or its clone, ADC, to re-contest in 2027!  What grand achievement would he campaign on?

    To be sure, the Tinubu order would face close and tight scrutiny on how harsh neo-liberal tactics have enhanced its “progressive” essence.  But, from verifiable stats that the president just rolled out, its harsh surgery appears restoring the patient.  With far lower food and transport inflation, it might even be singing a redemption song!

    That seems more solid than self-professed people’s friends, but really fiends, praying — and fasting! — that hardship endures, for them to stand any electoral chance! 

    What satanic — and panic-prone — strategy!

  • Nebuchadnezzar

    Nebuchadnezzar

    Before pouring jeremiads on Nigeria at 65, behold the parallels between Emperor Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon (reigned: 605-562 BC) and US President Donald Trump, as America approaches its 250th year in 2026!

    Much more than a warrior-king, Nebuchadnezzar was a renowned builder.  His neo-Babylonian Empire, of course, provided a surfeit of forced labour.

    Trump is a real estate magnate.  But with Trump accused as a shark that often shirks payment for work done, duped labour is answer to Nebuchadnezzar’s forced labour.

    Nebuchadnezzar drove Jews into exile, among hated Gentiles, in his prized Babylon city, with his 586 BC razing of Jerusalem; and his capture and torture of rebellious Judah King Zedekiah.

    In a settler country with neither Jew nor Gentile, Trump is creating fake Gentiles of US illegal immigrants, and dumping them in fake Babylon: in Africa, South America and Asia, where as the ancient Jews in Babylon, they might not even know anyone!

    But it’s in preening hubris that the Trump-Nebuchadnezzar parallel is eeriest.

    At the zenith of his self-worship — even with a prophetic caution, by Daniel the Jew to humble himself — Nebuchadnezzar crowed: “Is not this the great Babylon I have built, as the royal residence, by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?”

    Compare and contrast that with Trump’s United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) September 25 conceit, and you’ll spot the tragic similarity between the two.

    Using his native New York and UN base as Nebuchadnezzar’s Babylon city, Trump bluffed and blustered, abused and traduced, cursed and smeared everyone in sight.

    The United Nations was useless for alleged escalator and TelePrompTer sabotage; and for not aiding him to stop “seven wars” — a brazen lie by the way — even though America picks up the biggest chunk of the UN tab, which is true.

    Global science is wrong on climate change, only because a loud Trump — even with combative ignorance — declared it’s “the greatest con ever perpetrated on the world.”

    Europe earned Trump’s ire, for not herding own “illegal immigrants” into human pens like hens; and, like the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), cart them off to wherever the wannabe emperor damn well pleases! 

    For shunning that icy savagery, Trump foreswore Europe would go to hell!  Besides, having numbed uppity America with his cocktail of bare-faced lies, and pushing his deep vices as high virtues, he pitches such vile claptrap to the globe.  What hubris!

    Prof. Wole Soyinka just christened Trump “Idi Amin of America”: after that odious 20th century military brute, that made Uganda — and Africa — a global laughing stock.  By his UNGA huff-and-puff, Trump further branded himself some neo-Nebuchadnezzar.

    But it’s all thanks to American democracy, just shy of its 250th year: returning the Idi Amin favour, and delivering America’s own 21st century global laughing stock!

    Dolly Parton, that great American country music megastar, with a sweet but haunting voice, once sang “It’s my time to cry …” in one of her fetching numbers. 

    Africa and the third world, often savagely caricatured by a condescending America and the rest of the West are, in Trump, grabbing their chance to laugh — or even gloat!  Indeed, Trump’s bubbly bumbling would have been so sweet, were it not so tragic!

    Nigeria is 65.  America, 249 years.  But its doubtful if a Trump, with his clear flaws, can gain the Nigerian presidency, even with Nigeria’s many challenges!

    Which is why, the world leaders at UNGA, condemned to enduring Trump’s tirade — at least the historic-minded among them — would not but wonder if this was not after all a 21st century Nebuchadnezzar eating grass, after burst hubris!

    To be sure, core historians claim that was a Jewish biblical fable — for in truth, no hard core historical account recorded Nebuchadnezzar as eating grass.  But it’s a powerful metaphor: pride goes before a fall.  That might just be America’s fate under Trump.  He radically disrupts the world.  Yet, his thinking — and whining — are baby-like!

    Still, an ambivalence gifts Trump apologists — quite a number! — some cold comfort.

    Nebuchadnezzar was the divine rod from Jehovah himself — thus goes the biblical account — to punish the decadence of Judah.

    Trump too, might just be the divine rod to conk the Democratic Party, often blamed for the moral decay of America. The grand irony, though: no single person epitomizes that decay more than Trump! 

    Still, never mind: Trump as divine rod is why America’s White Evangelicals support him — aside the snouting elephant of White racism in the room!  Some priggish Nigerians also buy into that “divine” apologia.

    Just as well Trump merrily emits raw American wrongs, buried under more than two centuries of — hypocritical (?) — breeding.  But it would appear crunch time!

    Still, America is famous for self-correcting, after major crises.  Might there then be redemption, after profane Divine Rod Trump is long gone?  Maybe! 

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    But a chilly video making the rounds, tracking a 250-year empire rise-and-bust cycle, suggests otherwise.

    On 4 July 2026, America will be 250 years.  Rome: 244 years from republic to empire.  Ottoman: 250 years from its rise to its peak.  Britain: 251 years from empire to a bust.

    What’s more?  America suffers socio-economic dissonance that bodes ill. Its rich 0.1%, claims the video, corral more wealth than the rest 90%.  Trust in institutions has fallen 54% from 1970.  By 2026, it would plunge below 20% — the Soviet Union sank at 19%.  America’s political polarization is almost at par with its civil war period.  By its 250th year — 2016 —  that fissure would reach nadir not plumbed by any modern democracy.

    Incidentally, Trump, the unfazed face of this rot, is here bang at the crunch: levying war against Congress and getting away with it, convicted on 34-point felony yet elected president, and whines regularly to divide, not unite, his country.

    Now, if he goes to UNGA to play Nebuchadnezzar, after wreaking the system at home, it’s signal to the rest of the world that America’s global awe is dated.

    That has started in earnest: Brazil’s President Lula da Silva, at those same UNGA portals, already told Trump to buzz off pushing political outlawry in Brazil, with his daft support for the jailed Jair Bolsonaro who, after defeat, staged a Trump-like siege on Parliament to stay in power. Unlike Trump, however, he just got tossed into the can.

    Colombia’s President Gustavo Petro, right there in New York, told American soldiers to, on Palestine, disobey outlawry orders from their commander-in-chief!

    Even the French, philosopher-Kings of America’s “liberty and fraternity” credo: their president had to abandon his car, and trek to own embassy, because insecure Trump must project raw power, and seal up the entire New York!

    For these diplomatic incivilities, Trump has the mandate of his people. They voted him.  So, if they drown, they drown in concert.

    The saving grace is America might not remain a global bully much longer, though it can continue ruling or misruling itself in its vast insular territory.

    So, how does Nigeria at 65 take advantage of this winking global opportunity?  Use natural and human resources to build Nigeria for formidable global trade — and peace.

    That — and not stale jeremiads at 65 — should drive Nigerian thinking.

  • Of Jonathan and g(l)ory elephant

    Of Jonathan and g(l)ory elephant

    “The words of our elders,” went a long running promo on Radio Nigeria (later Federal Radio Corporation of Nigeria, FRCN), “are words of freedom.”

    So, are our folklores: a trove of wisdom — but strictly for those willing to learn.

    Link that to former President Goodluck Jonathan’s reported appetite to run again for president, after his defeat in 2015, and you’ll have quite a lot to chew.

    The Jonathan ambition, if true, is no crime.  It’s his inalienable citizen right.  Still, he must first contend that right with Section 137(3) of the 1999 Constitution.  That clause bars anyone previously sworn in twice as president from running again.

    But the lore that speaks to Jonathan’s hopeful presidential encore is a Yoruba folktale: a ploy to see the elephant mount the throne. 

    All the hoodwinked elephant saw was glory and endless glory.  But all his plotters planted was out-and-out sorry-and-gory sight, with the elephant soaked in own blood.

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    The cynical tale burst into an impish chant: “Erin ka rele o, ko wa joba … Erin ye-ye, Erin ye-ye … Iwoyi ola re … Eje a mase bala … Esinsin a mase woyin …”

    The depth of this chant can hardly be grasped my non-Yoruba speakers. 

    But suffice it to say it was dire warning, couched in subversive flattery: “By this time tomorrow, blood will freely flow, and flies will swarm, buzz and drone … all feasting on the elephant’s blood and gore — in a glory tale turned gory!

    Our folklores are a trove of wisdom — but only for those willing to learn!

    Of course, no arm will come to Jonathan.  But what remains of his presidential essence would be totally savaged — no thanks to an incomparable tenure: in abject failure, and near-total emptiness, on almost all fronts.

    Yet, Jonathan happened on the scene as something fresh. Indeed, one of his campaign adverts sold him as “a breath of fresh air” — and yes he was, in a way.

    He was a minority of the minorities. But he broke the numbers mould; and trumped the majority of majorities, to be elected Nigerian president (2011-2015).  That was after, as Vice President, he had completed the tenure of Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, who died in office (2010-2011).

    His troubled presidency left the air not only dank but stale, with a foreboding of total collapse.  That fear powered the late President Muhammadu Buhari into office.

    Indeed, the Jonathan irony: his finest hour — and high redemption — was his defeat in 2015, not his victory in 2011.  That irony ought to remind Jonathan of his stark presidency.

    His victory in 2011 was the sheer ecstasy of the “Nigerian dream” — a sheer plagiarism of the so-called America dream, before Donald Trump, a roiling chunk of damaged humanity, rolled out from America’s troubled shadows.

    A shoeless boy, from the tiniest minority of his minority Ijaw clan from Bayelsa State, just romped into power as third president, of Nigeria’s 4th Republic!  Dreams!

    What was more?  He even built on the late Yar’Adua, who had a Master’s degree. Jonathan was the first Nigerian president to boast a PhD — and it wasn’t honorary! 

    So, from goodwill that romped a minority into elected office over grubby numbers; to scholastic élan that promised rigorous public policy, a logical handmaiden of rational politics, everything promised a new dawn!

    But alas!  Jonathan delivered the diametric opposite, almost on all scores!  Instead of rigour, flabby was the word — policies or politics! If ever there was a time Nigeria came close to a total collapse, it was during the Jonathan years, when high-stake public sector heists became almost iconic!

    In a way, there is much to be said that Jonathan’s woes issued from the systemic rot of the Olusegun Obasanjo years, which the Owu chief nevertheless white-washed as some holiest of holies, just because the self-named Mr. Right was involved. 

    In trying to chisel the ruling PDP in own grim image, the first president of the 4th Republic had, almost beyond measure, profaned everything — corrupted policies, and near-collapsed the new and very, very delicate democratic institutions.

    Recall: the botched power sector privatization, its failed upgrade, the ugly tiff between president and vice president, the Obasanjo presidential library strange “donations” and the defeated third term attempt: a public knowledge, which the man continues to deny.  Aside: the “simple minority” impeachments that nearly tanked the political order!

    Besides, Jonathan himself became an equal-opportunity target for Obasanjo’s cynical derision because, many swear, he refused to be Obasanjo’s poodle.  That was a grand distraction.

    So, there is some merit in holding that Jonathan was a fall guy of the 11-year PDP vice, before he took over.  Still, Jonathan added his own bumbling to the ugly mix.

    But then, came salvation from the oddest of places: electoral defeat!  For not only accepting defeat but also shunning wasteful post-defeat litigation, Jonathan became a democracy hero of a sort.  Indeed, blessed are they, whose sins are covered!

    It’s this suspect halo that Jonathan risks shattering, with his rumoured come-back.

    Still, Jonathan must know: those prompting him to a comeback — not unlike the anti- elephant sweet plotters — are cold-blooded calculators.  Whatever fate befalls their quarry is no business of theirs.

    With a flash of vaulting ambition, former Vice President Atiku Abubakar virtually erased PDP in the South East: PDP only maintained a gubernatorial foothold in Enugu; and badly dented PDP in the South-South: retaining Bayelsa, Delta and, well, Rivers. But Wike’s Rivers wasn’t exactly the flavour Atiku craved!

    Post-2023: Delta is gone; Edo and Akwa-Ibom too.  Wike’s Rivers, on the balance of power, roots for Tinubu 2027. Cross River had crossed over in 2023. So, out of pre-2023 six near-”sure banker” states, only in one — Jonathan’s Bayelsa — can PDP hope there is hope, even then, marginally!

    What the Tinubu order has done is radically change the path to the Presidency, at least in that bloc!  Against this blitzkrieg, the counter-strategy of the Atiku PDP faction, now flexing muscles in ADC, is to parlay hunger as electoral strategy in his native North; and lay much store by the many anti-North lies and bogeys Atiku and allies have planted in the Tinubu court.

    It’s this desperation — this cold calculation — to chip away at the emerging APC southern phalanx that the Jonathan comeback orchestra is striking up new tunes.

    Tinubu has responded by dropping discrete IOUs in sundry demographics: student loans (youth), consumer credit (the broke(n) middle class), conditional cash transfer (for the dirt poor), regional development commissions, etc. 

    Aside endorsements across party lines — as fickle as that may be — the First Lady’s Renewed Hope Initiative (RHI), across sundry sectors, is busy charming citizens, via soft power, nationwide.

    To be sure, a Jonathan entry should alter the electoral calculations.  But the question is: how much?  And at what cost to him?

    Dr. Jonathan had better be well guided. So that his fate doesn’t equate the tragic elephant’s: eyes sparkling for glory but fatally shut with gory tales.

  • Their Imperial Majesties (TIMs)

    Their Imperial Majesties (TIMs)

    No less than three top Yoruba potentates say they are Imperial Majesties.

    The Alaafin of Oyo is one — and rightly so.  His forebears were the only ones that ever ran an empire: the Oyo Empire (14th to 17th century).  It faded from 1835.  The final sunset was with the Kiriji War armistice of 1893.  Its rose from circa 1300s.

    The Ooni of Ife has also declared himself His Imperial Majesty (HIM).  So, has the newly crowned Owa Obokun Adimula of Ijesaland.

    The irony of HIM appears totally lost on these two otherwise revered monarchs.

    But first: this piece, from a proud Yoruba boy, is not about to mock the Yoruba treasure: their monarchy. That institution is a clear proof of vast political sophistication, long before British colonial intruders came to truncate that civilization.

    No doubt, the Yoruba love their kings.  Their brightest and best seek self-actualization via chieftaincy titles.  It’s one golden atavism that richly connects with a storied past.

    The Nigerian state too admits of the glorious past of its many cultures.  Yes, Nigeria has a republican constitution, which deems every citizen equal.  Yet, it cohabits with the Yoruba Oba who, by culture, cannot be questioned — Kabiyesi! — so long as basic decencies are not breached.

    Still, even in its pristine form, the Kabiyesi was not absolutely unquestionable. As an empire, Oyo had its Oyomesi: Basorun, Agbaakin, Samu, Alapini, Laguna, Akinku and Asipa — the seven native principalities that not only helped to select the Alaafin but also constituted checks and balances on his awesome royal powers.

    The Ijebu — a Yoruba sub-group never under Oyo imperial rule — had their own Osugbo cult: to deal with the excesses of the Awujale, the paramount ruler of all Ijebu.

    Now, this is no foray into pan-Yoruba history; but to point out a pan-Yoruba aversion for royal excesses and vanities — and that ingrained in their very ancient feudalism.

    This piece taps into that sacred licence, without reducing the awe in which these Oba are held by their respective subjects, who nevertheless are Nigerian citizens!

    Now, back to TIMs: Their Imperial Majesties!

    Why the Ooni of Ife, Oba Adeyeye Enitan Ogunwusi, Ojaja II, affable, debonair and admired, would soil his immaculate hold on pristine Yoruba essence, with the blood and gore of an empire that never was, beggars belief.

    Before the roar of war; the power and the glory corralled by gore; the imperial plunder: the smashed skulls and hewn limbs of the vanquished, the Ooni had reigned supreme. 

    Even after Oyo had risen and faded, the Ooni’s spiritual supremacy is undiminished.  The pristine cultural artifacts, including the Opa Oranyan — the mythical obelisk,  sacred grove and temple of Oranmiyan, the famed founder of the Oyo Empire and Bini Kingdom, is today in Ife, the undisputed source of Yoruba nativity and heritage.

    So, why would the Ooni profane all that with a vanity that ogles imperial savagery?

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    The irony of HIM — His Imperial Majesty — is even more lost on the new Ijesa supreme monarch, Oba Clement Adesuyi Haastrup, Ajimoko III, in his Ilesa metropolis. 

    Why would the Ajimoko III glorify imperial crime, which his illustrious forebear, the Ajimoko I, Owa Frederick Kumokun Adedeji Haastrup, rebuffed? He gloriously funded the Ekiti Parapo army, the common bastion of the Ijesa, and other repressed people of the Yoruba nation, to halt Ibadan invasion and plunder.

    That military challenge forced the Kiriji War stalemate, which snuffed out the final embers of the dying Oyo Empire!

    Kiriji War (1877-1893)! Does the Ajimoko III even realize that the Ajimoko I gained the throne, and founded the present Ajimoko-Haastrup dynastic line, as a reward for his heroic role in that grim enterprise?

    What of Ogedengbe, the famed Ijesa General and Kiriji War hero?  Ogedengbe trained at Ibadan’s famous garrison.  Yet, he turned against his Ibadan masters, to throw off the Ibadan yoke, under a fading Oyo Empire. 

    When Ogedengbe breached the Kiriji armistice, and got detained by the British Resident in Iwo, the Ajimoko I not only bailed him out with a huge ransom, he also gave Ogedengbe the title of Oba’la, next in rank to the Owa himself, to secure his sinecures and wean him from war spoils, which was raw trouble under the new British regime.

    How would the Ogedengbe offspring feel with the Owa romancing a horrid past that brought their forebear much grief, even after halting Ibadan, and the chaos of the crumbling empire?

    HIM is Alaafin Abimbola Akeem Owoade’s historical right, which no one can begrudge his royal court.  He is the only monarch entitled to HIM by right.

    Even then, that esteemed monarch must be wary of throwing that severe political crime in the face of past victims, more so the same offspring of Oduduwa, shackled by own kith-and-kin, and even sold into slavery, because the Oyo boasted superior arms.

    For context: if military rule — a country’s army usurping the legitimate government — is abhorrent, empires were doubly so: for in search of spoils, they came killing, maiming, raping and plundering; making legitimate rulers of weaker orders mere vassals, to sate own imperial greed.

    This atavistic preening, rather insensitive, issues from the so-called “… of Yorubaland” titles.  That is fraudulent, to be sure — at least to the Ijebu, who were never under Oyo or Ibadan conquest. 

    But even to areas under the old empire, to who those titles are harmless and honorific, though anchored by history, the limit came when the Ooni allegedly named an Ibadan son the “Okanlomo of Yorubaland”. 

    The new Alaafin harshly balked (with unprintable anti-Ooni expletives streaming from his court).  But the present-day Ibadan beneficiaries rallied for their own, and reminded the Alaafin that Oyo Empire is ancient history!

    Ceasefire only came, when Dotun Sanusi, the title beneficiary for his 2020 COVID-19 heroics of rare care, clarified that his title was “Okanlomo Oodua”, not Okanlomo of Yorubaland! 

    It’s instructive that no one — not even the Alaafin — has questioned the Ooni’s eminent right to granting the Oodua titles. Ancient order trumps temporary power!  He is sole custodian, even with no recourse to arm!

    Still, fair is fair: monarchs, in old empire areas, must eschew contending space with the Alaafin. The Olubadan too, for instance, seems addicted to HIM. That, again, is farcical.

    Ibadan, at the decline of the Oyo Empire, might have been the glorious military teeth at the Alaafin’s disposal.  Indeed, in the name of Oyo, they halted the Fulani Calvary foray into Yorubaland, at the decisive battle of Osogbo (c. 1840).

    But Ibadan itself — under a Baale (Duke) for long — was never an empire, though it proudly bullied other sub-Yoruba ethnics, under the Alaafin’s sovereignty. 

    So, the Olubadan as HIM is both a moral and historical monstrosity, beyond the royal vanity of the moment.

    But again, that’s the grand message.  Yoruba monarchs, steeped in normative culture, must offer their people ancient guardrails against modern perils.  That’s far better than swearing by ancient crimes, seized by modern vanity.

  • Six for the PM

    Six for the PM

    The Yoruba have a quip: a child with no home training is fated to a harsh tutorial outside. 

    That’s the fitting fate of Simon Ekpa, the self-appointed “Prime Minister” of Biafra, set to cool his heels in a Finnish jail house for the next six years, for levying terrorism on his native South East, to hurt Nigeria.  Ekpa hails from Ebonyi State.

    But as we knock callow youths for rash choices, let’s not forget to cudgel elders too for wizened folly — masquerading as ancestral wisdom — pressed from ancestral feuding.

    That explains the South East anarchy that birthed both Nnamdi Kanu and new jail bird, Ekpa. 

    It was also behind the South West anomie — read Fulani disdain — that peaked under President Muhammadu Buhari (PMB), as Yoruba “Nesan” agitation. 

    A Fulani was president; and Yoruba Fulani haters pushed the insecurity challenges to run PMB political associates out of town: explicitly current President Bola Tinubu.  His crime? The clear spirit behind the APC grand merger, that powered PMB’s presidential triumph!

    Well, thank God, the anti-Fulani hysteria is gradually ebbing; and pipers of that toxic tune, gradually fading out — by death or by political irrelevance; or even, in the case of Ekpa, bottled in a foreign slammer!

    Still, for Nigeria’s collective good and political sanity, folks should always keep in mind how it all started — particularly, the present northern ensemble, spewing ethnic bile; and thundering northern arrogance, just because PBAT is sitting president.

    A southern lobby once tried that nonsense — witness: the halcyon days of “Fulani herdsmen”, as the southern media boomed, committing all the heinous crimes Nigeria-wide, while local felons snoozed in blissful retirement! But see how it’s all petering out?

    Ripples opposed the South’s ethnic-baiting of Arewa under PMB.  It will, with equal rigour, resist the North’s ethnic-taunting of the South under PBAT. 

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    That mutual hate is the last Nigeria needs.  On the contrary, it must harness its very best, across the board, to face down its humongous challenges.

    But back to the South East IPOB crisis, and its philosopher kings, long gone; yet, leave their offspring biting the dust.

    Chinua Achebe was a Nigerian — nay global — literary hero.  His everlasting literary accomplishments would always be with us, for us to ever cherish.

    But sorry: same can’t be said of his political distemper, so glaring with — to Ripples at least — his rather forgettable swan song: There Was A Country (2012), with his rather one-sided account of the tragic Nigerian Civil War (1967-1970).

    Yes, Achebe was entitled to his personal and intimate account of the war.  But the anarchy after shows the one-sided colouring could have been better handled.

    That account provided the philosophical spur for the current neo-Biafra agitations. It threw up Kanu, and later, Ekpa and allied fixers — the post-Civil War generation that neither saw war nor felt gore, except with the fake thrills of a combat film.

    These tragic romantics dreamed gung-ho agitations, until IPOB — under Kanu and Ekpa — unleashed naked terror, pain and misery, on own people; in a tragic living orgy of cutting your nose to spite your face, just to prove the Igbo can hurt Nigeria! 

    The nadir, even after Kanu’s caging, came with the so-called Monday sit-at-home protests, which not only harvested skulls and limbs of the ordinary Igbo seeking peaceful daily bread, but also inflicted a deep gash on the South East economy.

    Emma Powerful, the bombastic IPOB spokesperson, first spun sit-at-home, as some civil force to spring Kanu from “unjust” detention. But as Ekpa progressively unleashed own Frankenstein monster, even Emma, in all his garrulous majesty, became famously powerless to rein in Ekpa, who gloried from gory mischief to mischief!

    Of course, between Kanu and Ekpa, there is little to choose in extreme bad breeding.  Kanu cursed and mocked every non-Igbo to push his neo-Biafra cause.  During the EndSARS crisis of 2020, he levied war and arson on Lagos.  Ekpa, in his Finland cocoon, openly danced at his people’s misery.

    But at Ekpa’s judicial crunch, he claimed he was a content creator that meant no harm!  In a parallel plea in a Nigerian court, Kanu too proclaimed his democratic right to untrammelled agitation!

    The Finnish court pooh-poohed Ekpa’s claim, and threw him into the slammer.  Will Kanu fare better before a Nigerian court?  We’ll have to wait to find out.

    But however Kanu’s case is resolved, Ekpa’s jailing has reiterated a clear — but hardly novel — precedent: every action (good or bad) has consequences.  It’s a natural order codified by law, and enforced by the courts, after due process.

    With Ekpa’s jailing, South East politicians, who love to brag that Kanu be released “unconditionally”, just to impress folks back home, have to invent another bluster.  Both act in IPOB plots.

    But the Kanu-Ekpa ensemble did not act solo.  The South West too joined in the anti-Fulani rumble.  It was a rich, frothy season of Fulani bogey! 

    Why, even former President Olusegun Obasanjo, a non-Fulani grand beneficiary of Fulani hegemony, if ever there was one, also chimed in with “Fulanization”, just to put PMB’s nose out of joint.  Typical!

    But for philosophical underpinnings, Prof. Banji Akintoye and his Yoruba Nation project took the cake.  No less, was the late Chief Ayo Adebanjo (God bless his soul!) with his “Afenifere” progressivism, and a swagger of Yoruba supremacism! Besides, the chief’s famous turf war, with PBAT and younger Yoruba progressives, was an open secret.

    Then, the battling rams: the likes of Sunday Igboho, the South West equivalents of Kanu and Ekpa, were at the ready, spewing Fulani hate, in defence of Yoruba “Nesan”!  But it was a missed Golgotha.  The South West dodged that bullet — but just!

    No doubt, from the anti-Lagos/PBAT sight and sound, issuing from the post-PMB “North”, there is a clear proof of northern hegemonists, blind to civil power balance, for Nigeria to nurture sustained nationhood, in peace and harmony.

    Still, why would PMB, whose bloc partnered PBAT to win federal power, goad the so-called “Fulani herdsmen” to raze the South West, the political space of his partner?  Does that even make any sense?  It’s out-and-out hysteria, stupid!

    What’s more?  All the ugly tags — nepotism, Fulanization, Katsina cabal, clueless, incompetent, etc — curated by the booming southern media to blight PMB, are being rebranded and hauled back at PBAT, by northern irredentists! 

    What goes around comes around, doesn’t it?

    As we speak, there is even a Yoruba vs Igbo lunatic army on X, arrayed against each other, dubbing either ethnic as ugly descendants of gorillas and chimpanzees!  How grown, reasonable adults would sign up on such brazen toxicity beats one hollow!

    Then, from the North comes anti-Lagos brickbats, clearly to demonize Nigeria’s No. 1 centre of opportunities, as no more than Tinubu’s glittering trophy of Yoruba nepotism! 

    That’s gas, of course!  But it’s what it is — too much toxicity in the political space!

    Ekpa has received his harsh tutorial in Finland.  But his jailing is a good juncture to apply the brakes!  No nation develops by mutual hating and ethnic-baiting.

  • Broken record

    Broken record

    The one they call Ebora Owu lives the reality of a broken record. Tearing others down  echoes his broken public life, when the subject is not brazen service of self.

    Might his core then be rot, since he sees nothing but rot in others?  Only one full of rot would see only rot in others, over all seasons, in every material particular. 

    Indeed, former President Olusegun Obasanjo ticks all the sickening, stinking boxes, in flamboyant rot.  He, the wannabe Pope of public sector morality, is the very epitome of that harsh Biblical put down: a whited sepulchre, rotten within, glittering without!

    His latest sickly pastime confirms it all: the release of a book, Nigeria: Past and Future, to mark his 88 years, though his birthday was in March.

    In that book, he claimed the late Muhammadu Buhari (PMB) was the worst president since 1999; and that incumbent President Bola Ahmed Tinubu (PBAT) waits, with bated breath, to topple Buhari’s record, just two years into own tenure!

    That’s rich — isn’t it? — coming from a fella whose wayward regime of naked power, powered by holy sleaze, set his PDP on a steady and progressive push to Golgotha!

    Still, if PMB and PBAT are power never-do-wells, and poor President Goodluck Jonathan got crushed by Obasanjo-era systemic sleaze, and the ill-fated Umaru Musa Yar’Adua was too ill to do what Obasanjo dragooned him to do, then who is the best of all times?

    No prize for guessing right: His Excellency, Holy and Immaculate Olusegun Obasanjo, Efficient and Effective, All Wise and All Glorious, Competent and Compassionate!

    Yet, history would reduce his name — and fairly so — to twin-emblems of brazen self-service: Obasanjo Farms Nigeria (OFN) and Olusegun Obasanjo Presidential Library (OOPL) — both of suspect moral provenance.

    For starters, both are glittering personal trophies from his two tours of duty, first as military junta head (1976-1979), and, as elected President (1999-2007). 

    Then, both are clear policy ambuscades to glorious state capture.  The grund norm of both is the Land Use Decree (now Land Use Act). 

    With the Land Use Act, Obasanjo gamed a huge parcel of land nation-wide (for OFN: incidentally, the twin-abbreviation for his military-era Operation Feed the Nation, OFN); and, in Abeokuta, for his OOPL, his end-term presidential racket.

    As sitting President, for his OOPL — first in Africa! — he proceeded to launch the most bare-faced executive extortion in contemporary Nigeria. 

    Yes, he called it “donation”: president and commander-in-chief — and sitting Oil minister to boot! — glaring down the cream of Nigerian Oil and Gas, opportunistic bankers, brow-beaten PDP state governors, and the emergent local investor class, with sharp eyes for sweetheart deals, coaxing them all to “donate”!

    Such blatant extortion, powered by the most unconscionable abuse of office, is yet to be matched by anyone.  On that, history would be brutally frank, when this generation is long gone.  Yet, Obasanjo tags others “corrupt”!

    But back to his finger-pointing on PMB.  

    Which of the two, for instance, is more public-spirited — even in the eye of a pumpkin, in the Laderin neighbourhood, of Obasanjo’s native Abeokuta?

    The one whose name gloriously adorns a crass business centre for gross personal gain — Obasanjo?  Or the one that silently erected a humming train station, named for Prof. Wole Soyinka, and sworn to total public comfort — PMB?

    That, of course, is the fundamental difference between both: PMB “hurried” with whatever good he had to do — though Obasanjo tagged him “Baba Go Slow” — and bowed out in a blaze of glory.  He made own mistakes, though.

    The tagger, on the other hand, is self-condemned to traducing others, all his very long life; hoping, fasting and praying that others’ “rot”, from his cynical mouth, would bury the putrid stench from own obvious decay, though he were holy Pope.  Nice try!

    Even then, a very special gift from his creator: in Obasanjo’s very eyes, all the tinsel he had packaged as gold would badly unravel, even as he busies himself seeing only the bad in others — before his maker calls him home!  It’s a bond he has with fate!

    All that is playing out in the current PDP misfortune.  It’s grand irony, though: the Great Seer and Grand Visionary, that led that party down that path of perdition, sees nothing!

    Still, you must know: Obasanjo’s obsession with running down others, but exulting self, dated back to 1990, when he released Not My Will, if you discount My Command,(1980), his Civil War tales by the moonlight, in which he framed himself the sole war super-hero.

    But in Not My Will, he went a reckless step further, when he openly mocked — callow, hollow youth! — the great Chief Obafemi Awolowo’s failure to attain federal power, the same power, he bragged, a military junta handed him on a virtual platter!

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    Still, after three years of junta power, and eight years of huff-and-puff presidency; and he still has to drone, now and then, to corral relevance, he is finding out, the bitter way, that greatness hardly correlates donkey years in power.

    The Awo that Obsanjo mocked — after his death, as his latest drivel does PMB — governed the Yoruba-majority Western Region for a scant seven years (1952-1959).  Yet, he turned the place into an irreversible force for good and progress, which still makes it the most prosperous and livable part of all Nigeria.

    Contrast that to Obasanjo’s cumulative 11 power years, and all he is leaving behind are OFN (more, the cynical policy gaming; less, the pristine farming policy); and OOPL — both bawling and screeching the sweet arrogance of self-service! 

    Why, even the rotten provenance of OOPL now attracts a rotten clientele, with EFCC securing conviction for a rash of 419 racketeers using its poolside as merry base! The shallow clearly call to the shallow, just as Awo’s deep called to the deep!

    Awo needed no eternity to put down others.  All he did, with his razor-sharp policies, from his cutting-edge intellect, was hauling up millions, in glorious social democracy!

    On Obasanjo/PMB, history would even be harsher.  For OBJ’s OFN and OOPL, PMB left sundry life-saving public works, to serve Nigerians — and in a season of no cash too: cash earlier finagled during the Obasanjo and PDP ancien regime!

    The taciturn PMB even taught the garrulous OBJ quiet lessons in president/vice-president relations and sane elections; talk less of basic decorum in relations: mutual respect among peers.

    Pray, which military senior or junior hasn’t OBJ abused or traduced with his fashionable rudeness, promoted as high morality?  Gen. Yakubu Gowon?  IBB?  Who?

    It’s the sad tale of avid teacher, lousy learner.  He’s so anxious — arrogant, even — to teach.  But beyond conceit, he has pretty little to impart.  All he projects is he’s too big to learn!  So, how can you teach much, if you had so little in the tank?

    Public-spirited donors must turn the Buhari Centre into a true store of institutional memory, of rich public service — a thunderous rebuke of that loud fakery in Abeokuta.

    In his wild attack on President Tinubu, Obasanjo trained his cynical guns on the Lagos-Calabar coastal highway.  But don’t be fooled, it’s same rotten strategy: bad-mouth legacy projects because you boast none!  Besides, the old blackmail that “PMB-knows-no-economics” is gone!  PBAT appears master of that forte.

    The post Obasanjo/PDP grapes are sour — really sour!  But Obasanjo forgets spite never vitiates the sweetness of honey!

  • Yoked to inanities

    Yoked to inanities

    As in life, as in death: former President Muhammadu Buhari (PMB) shut down what might have flared into — and still be — a raging inanity.

    That controversy brewed on July 9, at the launch of Garba Shehu’s book, According to the President: Lesson from a Presidential Spokesman’s Experience.  It was set to grow into a media din — until PMB’s death, in London, England, on July 13, squelched it all.

    The old soldier — in death, as in life — brooked no inane quips, no sundry rants! So, his deployment of what Ripples called “strategic deafness” during his presidency.

    The controversy?  Boss Mustapha’s banger: “When you sum up” what “… gave us victory in 2015, the aggregate of the total vote were 15.4 million votes.  So, … what we brought to the table — the other parties … in the merger — in addition to Buhari’s12.2 million votes, were 3.2 million votes.”

    Armageddon!  Differently phrased, all what the APC merger — read the South West huffing-and-puffing, and flexing of messianic muscles — added to PMB’s 2015 win were barely three million votes, in a 15.4 million haul!  Armageddon!

    Those stung would howl.  Those that sting would smirk.  

    The stung South West: for a wilful diminution of its well — and fairly acclaimed — help to, at last, get PMB across the presidential line.

    But the stinging “North” — of Mustapha, PMB’s second Secretary to the Government of the Federation (SGF): no retreat, no surrender, Nigerian politics being what it is!

    Still, Ripples cares less about these partisan warriors — inside the same party! — for politicians would be politicians. The worry is the media, which reflex always gets drawn into sterile controversies, while critical issues crave attention.

    In truth, Mustapha’s take was a fib — but not because the “12 million votes” were duds. But without the North-West/South West entente that romped APC into life, PMB would — yet again — have laboured in vain.

    But as the South West came through for PMB in 2015, the North West too came through for PBAT in 2023.  The North East though, got the Vice President. 

    That alliance fired President Bola Tinunbu to power; and may yet gift him an encore in 2027 — never mind the palace conspiracy theories and theorists: by Buharists (read the CPC rogue minority); and BATists (read rash players in the BAT ruling court).  Also add: media “we vs them” commentators, that screech shriller than the bereaved!

    Yes, Mustapha’s “12 million votes” claim was provocative. But that wasn’t his only take. 

    His other take was that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu (PBAT) was building on PMB’s policies and programmes: in infrastructure, in agriculture, and sundry sectors, thus from 2015, breathing fresh life, after the PDP-era paralysis of 16 desert years.

    His exact words: “President Tinubu’s administration has not only retained the momentum of governance reforms, but has introduced bold initiatives that further entrench institutional credibility and fiscal sustainability.”

    This is true: with virtually all-Nigeria now construction sites in roads and rail.  That’s an APC legacy, near-absolutely unknown to the pre-2015 PDP years.

    So, why didn’t this second comment get traction, though it would have neatly juxtaposed the APC era with the PDP epoch?

    Again, that’s ode to inanities: to which both politicians, and the often sensational media, are yoked!  No wonder, a good chunk of public discourse is mere junk.

    Little wonder too, political desperadoes, with annoying “me-too” complexes, and a surfeit of pay-as-you-go analysts, are ever ready to drum “we-are-always-a-hopeless-case” dirges, otherwise known as “nothing is happening”!

    With such merry recourse to fashionable self-ridicule, it’s little surprise that at mid-term, the media gets more drawn to shrill voices that bad-mouth; not crack minds that grind out solutions, to long-term hard problems.

    But back to Mustapha’s sweet-sour takes — twin-hyperboles, though.

    PMB’s “12 million” votes might be statistically correct.  But that they romped him into power is wrong.  Had the South West votes not gifted the required national spread, PMB would still have come short.

    No less hyperbolic was the claim that PBAT was, neat and sweet, deepening the PMB policy regime.  That isn’t true in every material particular.

    PMB was brilliant in infrastructure and agriculture, with near-zero cash, setting up new exciting templates, after the PDP years.  But he wasn’t so brilliant in monetary policy. 

    Indeed, he had little choice outside debt capital because the till was empty.  The PDP-era, of gargantuan steal, had cleaned out the till. Under President Goodluck Jonathan (2010-2015), that heist had become an epidemic.

    PBAT, on the other hand, has been sparkling in monetary policy, while maintaining the PMB-era strides in infrastructure, with many legacy projects; but far less glaring in agriculture, though he promises a dramatic upsurge, during the harvest months, 2025.

    The clear elephant in the room, for PBAT, is still the food inflation challenge, though progressive numbers suggest it’s trending down — but not as down as many crave.

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    But these two contrasts build one solid story.  From a suspect monetary policy of its early nativity (2015 to 2023), the APC order, under two presidents, has evolved a far more organic, and certainly, far more coherent and promising economic vista, than anytime during the Obasanjo-led PDP era (1999-2015).

    Yeah, to Nigeria’s brow-beaten citizenry, “reforms” has become a buzz word.  That word, it was, that the Obasanjo lobby waved, as a magic wand, to sell his doomed third term agenda. 

    But unlike the Obasanjo era, these present “reforms” are springing visible projects — roads and rail — aside more reassuring economic numbers.

    Still again, the mighty elephant in the room: reform pains!  These pains condemn the government to rivals’ emotive blackmail.  The pocket still hurts. The belly still rumbles.  That’s the opposition charter, en route 2027 — to milk the people’s misery!

    By fixing PMB-era monetary challenge — which Chukwuma Soludo hyperbolized as a “dead economy” — PBAT has somewhat made the economy potentially more rounded, though traditional progressives continue to rile at his harsh neo-liberal choices, which seem to leave the people — in any case, the most vulnerable — winded and angry.

    On balance though, there would appear a progressive uplift from the PMB years — a rich continuity the ruling order ought to toast, not break into Buharist-BATist free-for-all, as if under opposition curse.

    Proof?  Barely 10 years after PMB’s Lagos-Ibadan-Kano medium gauge rail, PBAT is sighting a bullet train, linked to Lagos-Abuja-Kano; and Abuja-Port Harcourt — in three years!

    That was virtually impossible during the PDP years — except PDP projects as audio tricks (witness the endless stunts pulled on the 2nd Niger Bridge) — even with the Jonathan parting gift of the Abuja-Kaduna rail, which PMB completed and inaugurated.

    So for APC, doesn’t it then make more sense to frame public communication that consolidates its gain from 2015, rather than split hairs between 2015 and 2023?

    Had it done that, it would have taken the wind off the sail of power opportunists, that offer little beyond cheap emotive blackmail.

  • Rude staff, wild clients

    Rude staff, wild clients

    Rude operators, wild patrons — that about captured the August 5 and 10 hurly-burly on the aviation front.  In that uppity travel sector, there’s no saint across the aisle.

    Which must have forced Festus Keyamo, SAN, Aviation and Aerospace Development minister, to wave the white flag of no victor, no vanquished; and shut down the ugly saga. 

    Smart or dumb? The jury is still out!

    Still, even the most critical of Keyamo’s intervention would admit this one: but for his neat resolution, that gripping plot — from KWAM 1’s brash suicide bid of August 5, to Comfort Emmanson’s inelegant brawl of August 10 — was set for another drawn-out rumpus, on which emotional scammers had perched. 

    But Keyamo imposed his white-flag denouement, and a hot dispute sizzled into a final angry — if reluctant — hiss!

    Indeed, Keyamo’s quick thinking seems reminiscent of the Biblical Solomon and the two harlots.  Solomon won the first of his wisdom stripes, with two feuding harlots and two babies; one dead, the other alive. 

    The harlot that crushed her baby in reckless sleep wanted the living baby cut in equal halves — as King Solomon had baited.  But the compassion in the other, whose baby lived, would hear none of that crass infanticide.

    Solomon the Wise spotted a cynical and malicious campaign. Pronto, he awarded the baby to the rightful mother; and told her spiteful rival to go bury hers.  Case closed!

    By the Solomon (sorry, Keyamo!) “judgment”, KWAM 1, that — horror of horrors! — stood before a taxiing ValueJet plane, to block it from take-off, became the ValueJet Ambassador on Tarmac Security.

    Emmanson, fierce “Taekwando” Queen, that screamed, punched, kicked and slapped, to resist arrest for alleged violent in-flight misconduct, on board Ibom Air Uyo-Lagos flight, became the Ibom Air Ambassador on Good Cabin Conduct.

    Cynical wisdom, ala Keyamo?  Maybe!

    But it took Keyamo, like King Solomon schooling the two harlots on basic psychology, to spit it out: their excellencies, the “Ambassadors”, were tagged with each offended airline, to serve as community penance: to self-rebuke for their earlier faults! And neither perk nor pay for that service — more of elegant servitude!

    Might we then say Keyamo read well our fractious and infantile polity, with supposed adults ever-ready to play the child, to have one over the other foe, real or imagined?

    It was clear, had the kerfuffle drawn on, not a few had primed themselves to grind political capital from this twin-affront: of baiting airline staff and bawling passengers.

    The ever-droning Peter Obi, for one, unfazed master of populist inanity, had already blared on X: “The poor must not be punished while the powerful walk free”.

    That already insinuated some close cabal cruelly stewing Emmanson for her violent behaviour, but senerading KWAM 1 for something no less outrageous.  Yet, there was no solid evidence: other than KWAM 1 being the informal presidential palace bard; and the president, in Obi-speak, must cover up his own, evidence or no evidence!

    In fairness to Obi though, the context of the tweet was much more conciliatory, if mischief can cohabit with genuine conciliation.  But had he resisted his penchant to rush to comment before thinking things through, he would have realized the Keyamo intervention was along the lines he suggested. 

    But you bet! Some Obidient zealots would crow: but for Obi, Keyamo wouldn’t have resolved the crisis as he wisely did.  Such populist fiction gifts Obi political oxygen!

    Then, Oby Ezekwesili, the famed Madam Due Process of the non-due process Olusegun Obasanjo presidential era, also weighed in, with tad any due process!

    Bawling “double standards” and galloping into the fray like some furious moral sheriff, she painted KWAM 1 as the unconscionable giant; and Emmanson, the helpless dwarf, in Nigeria’s evil system, which Angel Oby must smash, with the “99%” Nigerians under peonage; versus the “one percent” ruling class, insufferable and irredeemable!

    What drama!  But it was built on nothing but conspiracy theories powered by frothy emotions and bubbly mischief.  Still, Oby’s melodrama took a brief back seat with her admission that the young woman’s “behaviour also raised concerns”!

    That’s the point, though.  Emmanson’s landing in Kirikiri was on her: her own violent conduct, openly seen by all, though hardly anyone saw the cabin crew provocation that elicited that temporary insanity.

    But like Obi, it’s Oby’s recent penchant too to — without due process! — jump into matters, in her hot ardour to play the moral police.  First, it was the Anambra teen that forged JAMB results to claim she had a stellar outing. 

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    Then, the Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan Senate saga, into which Oby jumped, decreed the guilty party — even with the first court verdict finding against her feminist hauteur.   Yet, she goes on with laughable bluff. It’s that huff and bluff she has taken to this case.

    No tears for both KWAM 1 and Emmanson, though.  Both had it coming.

    What the hell was KWAM 1 thinking, planting himself before a moving plane?  Did he think the fearsome Ijebu “jazz” — as the Igbo call it — would save him from wilful suicide? 

    Or as a mischievous fellow gruffed: was it the “Abobaku” complex in him, now that his Awujale of 65 years just passed?  If KWAM 1 by this has become a butt of cruel, rib-cracking jokes, he had it coming!

    Still, between KWAM 1 and Comfort Emmanson, whose violent conduct was no comfort to her case, there were clear differences — as everyone saw.

    The worst that could have happened to KWAM 1 was self-perdition, though it could also have blighted the plane pilots; caused passenger trauma, and fetched the airline  a huge bad press.  That explained the temporary suspension of the ValueJet pilots.

    But Ms Emmanson’s rabid violence was a disgrace to womanhood.  Even more rebuke was her reflex ire, knowing her dressing was, ab initio, compromised.  Lo!  How would a bra-less girl get into a graceless scuffle, yet moan and cry at the horrible result?

    That feral aggression, un-lady-like as it was stunning, railroaded her to Kirikiri, not some fictive class divide.  Her indecent exposure too, regrettable as that was, issued from her incomplete dressing.  Yet, had she stayed calm, the struggle to bundle her out of the cabin wouldn’t have arisen.

    Good thing Emmanson was reported to have shown open remorse, at the dock, when the chips were down.  Our Comfort should take great comfort from that, learn true lady-like restraint, and shun these hypocritical voices trying to goad her further astray.

    Still, three incidents: the Adam Oshiomhole showdown with Air Peace, KWAM 1 scuffle with ValueJet and the Emmerson rumble with Ibom Air, have shown a trend: the airlines, though they charge a leg and an arm, almost always treat their long-suffering patrons with scorn and infuriating condescension.

    For the growth of Nigerian domestic aviation, that should not be allowed to continue.  That dovetails into another wise Keyamo call: industry-wide retreat to retool and re-school these air staff in handling tacky air customers.

  • Ikokore sensation

    Ikokore sensation

    Ikokore?  Yes, that’s ethnic Ijebu stuff.  Classic pan-Ijebu cuisine!

    That delicacy made news at the 20th Ilese-Ijebu community gala, formally Ilese Day: 20th Annual Convocation of Ilese-Ijebu people.  Its one-week celebration climaxed at the weekend, spanning August 8-10.

    The Ijebu, Yoruba sub-ethnics, are mainly in Ogun State, with their metropolitan capital of Ijebu Ode, which just lost its monarch of 65 years; and their atavistic roots, in Ijebu Igbo.  The Ijebu are spread out in other famous towns and a network of proud villages. 

    Also, their Remo cousins: spread over Sagamu, the Remo head town, Iperu, home town of Governor Dapo Abiodun, and Ikenne, the glorious nativity of the eternal Obafemi Awolowo, the most rigorous politician — so far — in Nigerian history, among others.

    But the ethnic Ijebu, whose lingo bears uncanny similarities to the Itsekiri of Delta, are also native to Ikorodu and Epe (the Epe township and its outlying areas of Eredo: Odo Ayan, with its famous market, Mojoda; Odoragunsen, Ibonwon, etc), now carved under the Eredo LCDA in Lagos State.

    Ikokore is as central to the Ijebu fun-loving palate, as Agemo, the pan-Ijebu cult and yearly conclave, is central to the Ijebu traditional spirituality.

    The Ikokore cooking contest had always been integral to Ilese Day, as it took off in its current format, 20 years ago, in 2005.  So, this year’s news lay less in the delicacy itself but in the winner of the contest.

    Enter: Goodluck Abidemi, 14, a Junior Secondary School (JSS 2) student, who the Ikokore gourmet-judges crowned over three far elderly ladies, whose forte is the kitchen.  It was nothing short of sensational, as the hall quaked in a thunderclap of cheers!

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    Abidemi was classical news oddity, albeit a very pleasant one. How a 14-year-old boy would beat three women, veterans of the kitchen, to the Ikokore prize, beat everyone!  Should the contest not have been a shoo-in for the ladies?

    Then, the teen chef’s Ikokore story, which also bucked the trend: his motivation came from his father, not his mother! 

    Pop-eyed, he had always watched his dad turn cold, grated water-yam paste, into a steaming, seasoning-rich, palm oil wonder-broth. That sizzling bubble not only always enthralled the nose, it also condemned the tummy to a pleasant rumble and grumble! 

    What’s more?  Hot Ikokore is best eaten with that Nigerian staple eba, when it’s as cold as the morning dew!

    But Abidemi’s win, aside linking a fledgling teen to his deep Ijebu roots, and a putative future promise as exciting chef, if he hones his potential with quality education, epitomized the crux of this year’s celebration: the town’s youth as centre of its future.

    Yes, the town’s monarch, the Elese, Oba Oluremi Obayomi, launched a N200 million palace fencing project, to better secure a tony palace within its vast grounds; and the Asiwaju Ilese, Kunle Kalejaye, SAN, who the Elese coronated at the 19th home-coming in 2024, was in charge of affairs, the focus this year was pretty much the youth.

    The rather self-effacing Otunba Sola Mogaji remains boss of the Ilese Day Planning Committee.  But Adeniyi Adeiku, one of the town’s many young Turks, is now general secretary, Ilese Development Council (IDC), which mandate gives Ilese Day its yearly life.

    Adeiku’s IDC 2024/2025 report, spanned key development areas as primary health care, education, security, community relations, and street lighting, among general infrastructure — particularly of the three-kilometre Ilese main stretch, since developed into a broad dual drive-way, with a befitting median.

    A road that hitherto powders into a riot of dust, as the carnival floats strutted their stuff, is now a smooth tar, with night solar street-lighting to boot! This Light-Up Ilese project, is courtesy local politicians:  Foluso Badejo, chair, Ijebu North East Local Government and Oriyomi Ajoke Adeiye, councilor representing Ward 8, Ilese, at the council, both proud home boys.

    The council, courtesy its “home boy” chairman, has also built a new health post, to cater for the town’s expansive primary health needs.  That shows a community that considers its youth a future to treasure, but not also neglecting its senior folks.

    But nothing perhaps captured this youth-centric focus more than the trio serenaded at the 2025 yearly awards.

    The most dramatic of the three was Samuel Badekale.  He graduated from the University of Lagos, in Cell Biology and Genetics, in 2024.  With a “perfect” 5.0 cumulative GPA, he was not only the best graduated student in the Sciences, he was also UNILAG’s best performer for 2024.

    For that rare feat, Governor Abiodun snapped him up as the Ogun State Education Ambassador.  A year later, he was serenaded native, in whom Ilese was well pleased!

    The other merit awardees were Prof. Olalekan Bello, a professor of Health Education and veteran academic and Dr. Shafiu Ademola, a scion of one of the Ilese ruling houses, and first, from Ijebu North East local government, to have earned a PhD in Nursing, specializing in maternal and child health, aside sundry garlands, across multi-disciplinary sectors.

    It’s not clear if the three academic-leaning awardees were happenstance.  But they gave a clear message: education and sundry quality training are the clear future.  Asiwaju Kalejaye said that much at the final day rally.  It’s the Ilese 2025 gospel to its youth — and just as well!

    But should any doubt remain, the yearly Baba Ijo Education Support and Grant, set the records straight.  The scholarship scheme is endowed by Chief Rufus Odusanya, the Baba Ijo of Ilese Christians, and a retired director of the Federal Ministry of Education.

    The Baba Ijo made it known to all that though he was going nowhere soon, the yearly scholarship would continue even after his death.

    This year, that scholarship will benefit 25 pupils, spanning primary school, Junior Secondary School (JSS) and Senior Secondary School (SSS).

    The scholarship also told its own story: of Ilese as an equal-opportunity community.  Though the sponsor is Christian, the scheme is open to all.  Beneficiaries come from all faiths, and all schools, Christian or Muslim, so long as the child demonstrates merit.

    What’s more?  It’s non-discriminatory.  It doesn’t matter where the child’s parents come from, in any part of Nigeria: so long as the family is domiciled in the Ilese community, and the child is brilliant.  The only criterion is merit, well proven.

    By that, Ilese appears blind, deaf and dumb to base and divisive sentiments, the forte of political charlatans and sundry demagogues.  In own corner, it strives to build a merit-driven ethos, as model for the greater Nigeria.

    Twenty years on, what would Ilese be?  From its progress these past 20 years, hope is rife it would likely not only attain most of its developmental goals, it’s also propping up competent youths to drive its next generation.

    That should be cheery news to the Elese, Oba Obayomi, the Asiwaju Ilese, and the rest of the natives that always put together this wonderful yearly homecoming.

    Who knows?  That Ikokore wonder boy might well be among the future elite, driving the town to its next level!

  • Awujale: A question of integrity

    Awujale: A question of integrity

    The metaphor — of the tragedy of privilege without responsibility — always loomed, in Death and the King’s Horseman, a Wole Soyinka play, written at the Churchill College, Cambridge University, England, but which premiered in 1975, at the then University of Ife, now Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU), Ile-Ife.

    The late Awujale of Ijebuland, Oba Sikiru Kayode Adetona, Ogbagba II, seems to have flipped that creepy Greek saying.  Though he died “happy” here, and got his death wish for a Muslim funeral, he would appear “sad” there, at the other world!   

    That has been clear from the ugly controversy that has enveloped his opting to shut out the Ijebu traditional priesthood and conclave from his burial rites. 

    But a fiery traditional elite have scoffed back, in blazing ire and fire: their former king, though highly revered in life, just “died”, as any common mortal. He did not romp into ethereal blaze, as Yoruba monarchs gloriously do!

    “Awujale ku ni,” the most radical and iconoclastic among them huff, “Ogbagba o waja!”

    That open heresy, in the traditional Ijebu cosmos, is a big deal!  With that institution’s memory of the elephant that seldom forgets, that might yet come back to haunt the king’s direct descendants; and even the fortunes of his ruling house — at least the Ogbagba segment of it — whose slot he filled with rare glory for 65 memorable years!

    That Awujale-after-death scorn is spectacular upbraiding of that Greek classic: only the dead stay happy!

    By its grim logic, the human is at the mercy of malevolent gods.  Even with a second left to breathe his last, the gods could swoop, swish, conk and crush: undoing all the glory the mortal had done, all his life — a classic case of the divine envying the mortal!

    But that’s all just cultural dramatics, bordering on the farce!  Malevolent — or benevolent — “gods” are no more than human foibles.  Conceit rapidly builds; and in Chinua Achebe’s Igbo-speak, the man starts challenging his chi (personal god) in a fit of hubris! 

    So, that Greek saying is dire warning for man to stay simple, humble and happy!  But man won’t be man without pushing his luck!

    In truth, the late Awujale pushed his luck a lot, at the crest of his glorious reign. But the more he bucked the norm, the more prestige he corralled.

    Hubris?  “Hell, no!” The modernists, among the avant-garde traditionalists, particularly the younger breed of Ijebu monarch-professionals, would roar back! Rather, it’s healthy evolution, which craves reformation of the extant tradition.

    That would appear to have driven their ambivalence — enlightened self-interest? — towards the Ogun State Obas, Chiefs, Council of Obas and Traditional Council Law, 2021.  This law offered the legal anchor for the late Awujale’s outrageous funeral rites — at least, to the dyed-in-wool traditionalists.

    For pushing this law, Oba Adetona may well end up the historical scapegoat! How do the Yoruba put it: he who does what none had done before, sees what none had never seen? 

    But if it forces lasting reformation, by a syncretic marriage of foreign faiths to native rituals in royal burials, posterity may well thank him.

    That would be in the long, long run, though.  Right now, the sharks are out, in the short, short run!  And boy, are they angry!

    In truth, that law offered the late monarch instant legalistic cover.  But unsparing sociology still left him stark naked.  What’s a law without its sociological spine?

    That harsh sociology also passed him off — fairly so — as some glorified opportunist who, in life, had the best of the Ijebu Obaship, played the Unquestionable — Kabiyesi o! — to the hilt, earned all the power and all the glory, only to duck paying his ultimate debt in death!

    That brings the discourse right back to the dark Elesin Oba metaphor, in Death and the King’s Horseman.

    The Elesin knew the deal: he would live the life: food, wine, women and prestige, in sheer epicurean paradise, right here on earth. But he must also die the death!

    The moment the Kabiyesi ascends — “w’aja” — he too must die, with the royal horse and the royal dog: the Elesin Oba, as royal guide in the grim sojourn to the other world; the horse, the royal carrier on the grim journey of no return; the dog, the royal protector, to bark off malevolent ghommids and keep sundry hostile spirits at bay!

    But this particular Elesin had it all but balked at that fateful hour — in any case, by his body language.  In fairness to him, he was aided and abetted by colonial Brits — led by Simon Pilkings — who decreed that tradition was barbaric, which indeed it was.

    But it turned a reverse irony for the tragedy to sink in.  Olunde, Elesin’s son, lured abroad by the same British personages to study Medicine, but be thoroughly brain-washed in the so-called “civilized” Western ways, turned the tale: a new champion of the grim tradition his father tried to dodge; which the intruding Brits helped to stall.

    Enter: one suicide call, two fatal prizes!  Elesin’s son committed the ritual suicide expected of his dodging father!  The shame-faced Elesin had little choice but to follow suit. Two tragedies for the prize of one!

    Still, a let-off of a sort — which may well open some long-term cold comfort, after this Awujale burial tragedy had blown over.  After the Oyo dramatics that fed our own WS the raw materials for Death and the King’s Horseman, that grim tradition itself became history in Oyo Alaafin, after the 1940s, which provided the play’s real-life setting.

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    Would that also prove true, for the Ijebu, after — in Shakespeare’s Macbeth-speak — the hurly-burly is done; and the roaring battle, over “Isese” rights in Oba burials, is lost and won?

    If it does, then the dead Awujale would have had the final laugh! 

    But right now, that looks so far-fetched that Oba Adetona — and descendants — would have to lug that ignominy of cheap pretenders as life-long defenders of tradition, but life-end deserters.  After all, what’s life without a good ending?

    Still, that troubling question must be asked: why did the dead King, and his loved ones, shirk whatever awaited his body after passage, so much so that they “blocked” such horror(?) with Muslim burial rites? 

    Are the dire suggestions true: that as the Kabiyesi was unquestionable in life, after death, the community too became unquestionable with whatever they did with his remains?

    Even with the awe — if not naked fear — that drives Yoruba spirituality, there would appear a fair call for reformation to assure troubled royal families of respect for their dead.

    But until such are sorted out with sane give-and-takes, to the mutual benefits of all involved, the dead Awujale risks lugging in death the diametric opposite of what he beamed all through his glorious reign and illustrious life: a crass lack of integrity.

    That’s hardly fair to the memory of a monarch that, in the secular, if not Ijebu spiritual eye, lifted the Ijebu throne to heights hitherto unimagined, earning a GCON to boot!