Category: Olakunle Abimbola

  • Kemi and the Iroko ‘curse’

    Kemi and the Iroko ‘curse’

    How do you pronounce that Scottish name, Badenoch?  Baid-nok as the Brits would? Or Ba-de-nok as Africans, particularly the Yoruba?

    That’s Kemi Badenoch’s first “curse of the Iroko”!  The Iroko tree, in Yoruba tradition, doesn’t rush to crush deviants. Running down her homeland will earn her sure ruin!

    Olukemi Olufunto Adegoke (Nigerian) became the proud — haughty, even — Mrs Kemi Badenock (British). 

    But as she stamps Nigeria under her British conceit, Ba-de-nock, the Scottish insurance that gifts her such insufferable hauteur, rings true of her Nigerian roots! 

    Still, she ought to have taken a cue from her beloved, immensely British husband, Hamish Alexander Badenoch.  Badenoch!  A living proof of Britain’s ancestral horrors!

    Hamish was born in Wimbledon, England — like Oyinbokemi (as Sam Omatseye dubbed her).  But were Britain a settler country like the United States, he would be English — and perhaps he regards himself as one.  But her mum was Irish.  Badenoch, his father’s name, is ancestrally Scottish — from the Gaelic original: “baideanach”.

    Now, you don’t need to be an expert in British history to know the Scots and the Irish bore the brunt of English ancient savagery, just to subdue the British Isles. 

    The Scot, fiercest rivals of the English, gave as much as they got.  Yet, got yoked into some — uneasy(?) — cohabitation.  The Irish were much more clobbered.  Yet, remain the fiercest in proclaiming their Irish-ness. 

    If the United Kingdom — of Great Britain and Northern Ireland — ever hangs on a thread, it might well be because Northern Ireland is split between unionists/loyalists (pro-UK) and nationalists/republicans (pro-United Ireland). 

    But either as Ulster unionists or Irish nationalists, Irish nationalism bubbles, perhaps with a tad more fizz, than Gaelic nationalism, which is not exactly a baby’s moan. Still, the Scot-Irish common peeve is clear disdain for English domination.

    Mr. Badenock, who in his psyche packs that latent volcano of ugly British history, has worked all over Africa — Malawi, Lagos-Nigeria, Kenya.  But not once did he betray any vile distemper against his homeland, even with his joint ancestors so cruelly mangled by the English.

    His Nigerian wife is the diametric opposite, though it’s not quite clear what’s biting her. In her serial misadventure, she has trashed her native Yoruba tact, with her adopted British diplomacy — all to thrash herself, in her arch-delusion of thrashing Nigeria.

    Indeed, for Mrs. Badenoch, it has been a grotesque double whammy: scorned in her native Nigeria; shunned by the introspective class among the Brits: the very people she labours hard to ingratiate herself.  Enter, a loathe-worthy dud of both cultures!

    If you doubt, recall British Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s brutal put down, bang in the House of Commons, of poor Mrs. Badenoch, more-Brit-than-the-British, the supposed Tory Leader: 

    “She has appointed herself, I think, saviour of the western civilization, in a desperate search for relevance”!  Sardonic humour: biting, classic, British!

    Didn’t even know which bit more: the guffaw of contempt that swallowed the chamber or the Brit Oyinbokemi, her smile frozen into a grimace, looking like trapped game!

    Yet, it was all so logical: if Kemi so passionately scorns her skin (Nigerian nativity), how can she possibly adore the mere sheen over it (her plastic Britishness)?  Indeed, how?

    Since Mrs. Badenoch started her anti-Nigeria misadventure, all she has reaped is a relay of what her Yoruba folks back at home call “a-si-so” (doomed to mis-jiving); and “a-si-se” (fated to misbehaving).

    Yet, the goodly Kashim Shettima, Vice President of the Federal Republic, had tried to steer Mrs. Badenoch off her self-destruct ways: stop denigrating Nigeria or risk being soon a self-chiselled nobody, even in the British political sphere.

    But Shettima, a man of style, tact and wit, didn’t sound so stark, in his two-way advice. One: why doesn’t  Kemi be like Rishi Sunak, the Hindu-Indian ex-UK PM and Tory Leader — a “brilliant young man” who “never denigrated his nation of ancestry”, even if he hugged his Britishness no less?

    But if that was beyond the vainglorious British-Nigerian, why not a clean break: remove Kemi from her name, and fully live the cultural jetsam she had made of herself!

    Cultural jetsam?  Yes, because Nigeria, as the proverbial Oyingbo market, is so packed it misses the absence of no one!  Nigeria would move on to her manifest destiny, with or without the self-loathing Oyinbokemi!

    But that rebuke only stung her into further recklessness.  It’s true as the Yoruba say: the doomed dog is deaf to the hunter’s whistle!

    First, an alter ego declared she’s no PR spinner for Nigeria — true.  Then, “with her chest” — as they say in that pidgin lingo — she growled that Nigeria was a bastion of crooked politicians and criminal police, that robbed her brother of valuables.

    But that verbal diarrhoea would gift us what drove her Nigeria hate — Fulani hate! Her Yoruba people, she claimed, had little in common with the stony savages of the North!

    Now, what was that? The “British” hyper-educated version of the stark “Yoruba Nesan” campaign? 

    But as the “Yoruba Nesan” campaign sadly showed, cultural condescension is no sole bastion of the plebs!  Plebeians, patricians and in-between were well captured!

    Read Also: University Don urges reforms in Nigerian church to reclaim moral leadership

    That Freudian slip was clear, from Kemi Badenoch’s riposte to VP Shettima.

    Still, the good thing is that the Yoruba dodged the IPOB Igbo bullet — that wild tail wagging the dog, and pushing the collective into avoidable catastrophe — just because Nigeria had a “Fulani” president, and you must choke his tenure with blind hate: the same toxin you accuse the Fulani of!

    But even for Britisher Mrs. Badenoch, that wasn’t even bad enough — every vocal pun intended!  On CNN, she must run her mouth about Nigerian citizenship, in a fit of combative ignorance!

    That CNN show of shame had own irony — and it wasn’t pretty.  Fareed Zakaria has earned global fame and awe for his well-researched, razor-sharp Global Public Square (GPS) series on CNN. 

    So, if our Oyinbokemi chose to display her arrogant ignorance, couldn’t Zakaria himself — a proud ethnic Indian but America’s ever-shining intellectual diamond — have fact-checked her, even with a prompting question?   The Nigerian Constitution of 1999 isn’t exactly a closet document!

    Still, it’s stiff  — and sweet — Karma: her perverse tantrums on Nigeria have dragged her to CNN to spew rubbish and further de-market herself! Didn’t the Bible say what you spewed ruined you, not what you gulped?

    But among the Yoruba, it’s even more foreboding: the concept of “eedi”!  Her ailment would seem verbal “eedi”. She won’t stop until she talks herself from promise to nothing.

    The Tories will soon realize — if they have not already — that their Nigeria chatterbox is a diplomatic liability — about time!  Who wants to lug such liability as PM — or which country, in the Black world, is more critical to UK than Nigeria?

    Conceit, hubris, blot out common sense — and our Mrs. Badenoch is living proof!

    Still, a sweet takeaway!  “Bade” is a Nigerian name, even if the “Scottish” version “noch”s!  Too bad for Oyibokemi. There’s no Nigeria escape.  Talk of the Iroko “curse”!

  • Between two Peters

    Between two Peters

    Two Peters. Two parallel exploits. But both woven into a tapestry, securing each a seat in the Nigerian football Hall of Fame: Peter Fregene (17 May 1947 – 13 October 2024) and Peter Rufai (24 August – 3 July 2025).

    One parallel is their Niger Delta and Lagos connects. 

    The one — Fregene — was born in Sapele (now in Delta State) but made his soccer hay in Lagos, ironically in two rival Lagos clubs, at the height of their swaggering, bragging and strutting rights: Stationery Stores FC (1967-1968) and ECN (later NEPA) FC (1978-1982).  Though 10 years apart, he won the Nigerian Challenge Cup with both.

    The other — Rufai — hailed from Lagos, though bred in Kaduna.  But the crisis that preceded the Nigerian Civil War (1967-1970) saw Peter and doting mum bolting for the relative safety of Port Harcourt, his mother’s ancestral home.

    There, at Port Harcourt, Rufai cut his first difficult tooth in football. 

    The finished work — more like work-in-progress — would make the paths of the two Peters to cross: the one a beloved mentor; the other the humble, dutiful mentee. 

    The Nigerian national team, across two generations, of Green and Super Eagles, would prove the net-gainer.

    Peter (Fregene) the Cat.  Peter (Rufai) the Rock.  Both stuffs legends were made!

    Another parallel: Stationery Stores and Eagles.

    In 1968, Fregene was “cat” in the Stationery Stores FC of Lagos: a galaxy of stars that blazed the budding sky of Nigerian football, with their rich, arresting twinkle.

    The list — 10 of the starting 11 — speaks for itself, particularly with Nigerian football history aficionados: Peter Fregene, Anthony Igwe, Augustine Ofuokwu, Olusegun Olumodeji, Samuel Opone, Willy Andrews, Peter Anieke, Fred Aryee, Olumuyiwa Oshode and Mohammed Lawal.

    One of them, Anthony Igwe, would win gold with Nigeria at the 1973 2nd All Africa Games in Lagos — Nigeria’s first-ever continental silverware.  Haruna Ilerika, aka “master dribbler”, joined Igwe in that golden team. 

    In 1970, Ilerika won the Lagos Principals’ Cup with the Zumratul-Islamiya Grammar School, Surulere, joined Stores in 1971 and broke into the national team from 1972.  In 1976, when Nigeria won its first bronze at the African Cup of Nations (AFCON), in Dire Dawa, Ethiopia, Ilerika excelled in that team.

    But this dazzling ensemble were only forerunners to the real deal, which climaxed in 1994.  That year, Nigeria became a powerhouse in African football, clinching AFCON for the second time, posting a stellar showing at the USA ‘94 World Cup, and dazzling to Africa’s first Olympic gold medal in men’s football, in Atlanta ‘96, also in USA.

    Back to the Fregene-Rufai parallel.  When Fregene bossed the goal for Stores, it was at the club’s golden age of near-total hegemony, wrapped in sheer poetics of football. 

    Stores not only drew 2-2 with Brazil’s Santos FC of the great Pele — with the genius himself live at the Onikan Stadium, Lagos — the Green Eagles, then dominated by Stores players — nine of the starting 11 — also forced a draw against the Brazil Olympic team, at the Mexico Olympics of 1968.

    But when Rufai met Fregene at the national camp in 1982, and humbly offered to clean Fregene’s boots, as other senior goalkeepers, there had been a cross-reversal.

    Stores, which Rufai joined, were hardly the elite Israel Adebajo Babes of yore, beloved scions of a colourful millionaire owner.  They had slid into “Pooku lowo e” — Yoruba for dirt cheap football plebs, but gritty for glory, adored and fired by fanatical fans!

    In this relative “desert”, Rufai would start building own legacy as Peter the Rock.

    Fregene himself was nowhere in sight in 1980, when the Green Eagles clinched their first AFCON title in style at home, with the late Best Ogedegbe and aging Emmanuel Okala aka Man Mountain, cradling the shots.  It was a glorious win, destroying Algeria 3:0 in the final: a Segun Odegbami brace and a Muda Lawal icing on the cake.

    But it was at the camp build-up to the Libya 1982 AFCON defence that the younger Peter met the older.  Rufai fondly recalled how Fregene taught him the art and science — or even the metaphysics! — of reflexes: the spring, the dive, the jump to save shots.

    That AFCON defence was doomed.  Ghana won.  But back was Fregene: the flying cat, with reflexes like springs, as sharp as ever, even after a 10-year hiatus.

    Rufai in 1998 was the opposite, just four years after his imperious Mondial debut.

    Year 1994: Nigeria were swaggering kings of Africa.  The Eagles not only won AFCON away in Tunisia, they debuted at the World Cup, playing champagne football, next only to Samba-land, Brazil, the eventual winners.  Rufai was central to that, as impregnable rock in goal.  His apogee, it was!

    But 1998 in France?  Yes, Nigeria still pulled some strings, pipping heavy favourites, Spain, 3:2 in a five-goal thriller — Nigeria’s winner, a thunderbolt from Sunday Oliseh, tearing the net behind the legendary Andoni Zubizareta, and retiring him.

    Read Also: NASS committed to laws that protect Nigeria’s sovereignty — Kalu

    But retirement — at least from the national team — was also Rufai’s lot.  In 1998, Rufai’s reflexes were all but gone.  The Round of 16 4:0 drubbing from Denmark was no thanks to those flat reflexes, despite the showboating heroics of another imperious talent, Austine “JayJay” Okocha — so good they named him twice!

    So, enter the last of the Peter-Peter parallels, though in contrasting terms: Fregene retired from the national team after the 1982 disastrous AFCON defence, though still with impressive reflexes. Rufai quit after France ‘98 with suspect craft, though the Eagles gave a fair performance.

    But both legends were made: Fregene the Durable. Rufai the Charismatic.  Legend!

    Still, both cemented their place in history, basically on account of their exploits in local football.

    Fregene never played abroad. Yes, Rufai moved abroad, earned more pay, garnered more fame and staked a claim to global renown.  Still, nowhere abroad was anywhere near the “centre of the universe” in fan adoration and worship as he was in Stores.

    He left Stores for Femo Scorpions — Femo who? — of Eruwa, Oyo State.  Then, to Dragons de I’Oueme of Benin Republic — Dragon what? — as fanatical Stores fans would have scowled.

    Well, in Belgium, Holland, Portugal and Spain, he never hugged such centrality that he enjoyed at home, though he earned far more coins, and did well for himself.

    So, how might Nigerian football have turned out, had it bloomed to its full capacity, with these iconic Peters, among others?

    Would Fregene have bowed to charity, to face old age infirmity, if the industry he had shaped with sheer excellence had grossed him enough cash to afford quality care?

    Rufai too, ever private and dignified. Would he have died at 61 with lingering doubt that, even with his comparative better fortune, not enough was done to save him?

    Two iconic players with contrasting fortunes but the same answer: far better than making hay abroad, develop your country for the great overall harvest.

    But the government must birth the enabling environment for that to be.

  • So long, PMB

    So long, PMB

    Muhammadu Buhari (17 December 1942 – 13 July 2025), one-time military junta head and twice elected president, often reminds me of a favourite saying of my late father.

    “Look,” he would say, “if the entire Lagos goes that way, but you feel the right way is the contrary direction, stick to your path.  Sooner or later,” he would insist, “they’d turn round and follow you.”

    That’s the long-and-short of the Buhari odyssey in a Nigeria of his power generation, brimming with fashionable rot — no thanks to long military rule and gangling graft.

    But PMB was as clean — squeaky clean; as his generation was rotten — irredeemably rotten. 

    So, when Nigeria ran into a storm, from the dirty high priests, who not only devoured the votary offerings but had also gobbled up the shrine in gargantuan greed, it was to PMB the nation beckoned.  Twice!

    But that first time, Ripples was hostile, though only an undergraduate at the University of Ibadan. As folks around Independence Hall bawled and frolicked: “Happy new year!” and responded with “Happy new government!”, the rippling response was a scowl. 

    It was 1 January 1984.  President Shehu Shagari, his ruling National Party of Nigeria (NPN) and the 2nd Republic (1 October 1979 – 31 December 1983) had set with the old year.

    “Do you even know,” came the query, “how these khaki boys would pan out?”

    Too soon, the junta started unravelling.  Its War Against Indiscipline (WAI) was to break at all cost, though in fairness many Nigerians almost, always act as sheer beasts in human flesh. 

    Still, the regime soon manifested its overweening military hubris: for which thinking government would cancel a Lateef Jakande-era Lagos Metroline, which envisioned a comfortable mass transit for a hustling and bustling metropolis?  For my young mind, such gruff, rude and rude tactics were a no-no.

    Yet, the scale of post-NPN government rot was benumbing — enough to let the then Major-Gen. Buhari to act as some Draco, the harsh lawgiver of ancient Greece, whipping into line the rotten Athenians of his day!

    Trouble was: beyond the gruff and strong arm tactics, those pretenders — except Gen. Buhari himself, and maybe the late Tunde Idiagbon, his deputy — were no better.

    Read Also: How Buhari and I were admitted in same UK hospital before his death, by Abdulsalami

    That was conclusively proven with his successors. The one, well-loved among his venal tribe, made free-wheeling sleaze the cornerstone of his junta policy.  The other died a certified thief. 

    Both disgraced the political military and exhausted their historic possibilities.  Good riddance!

    But among those terrible hustlers — patricians by uniforms and stripes; hungry plebs by base conduct, all propelled by an extreme poverty of the spirit — only GMB (turned PMB with his two-term presidency) was not only clean but manifestly so.

    That earned him a power encore in 2015.  Again, the PDP order, led by President Olusegun Obasanjo from 1999, had turned out hardly any different from the Shagari order of the 2nd Republic. 

    At that terrible juncture, however, poor President Goodluck Jonathan was the fall guy after years of progressive rot, when even booming oil wealth could not secure booming infrastructure, to shore up the economy. 

    It was SOS to GMB again: the presumed miracle worker.  When no miracle came, it was free-fall blame game.  The president must work the miracle.  Change can’t start with me and my permissive ways — Nigeria!

    Yet, some sort of “miracles” did happen.  Wale Adedayo @Mario9jaa X address, did reel off some of them: “Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, Lagos-Ibadan Railway, Second Niger Bridge, Itakpe-Warri Railway, Lagos Deep Seaport, Zungeru/Kashimbila Power Plants, Kaduna, Kano, Katsina Dry Ports, Petroleum Industry Act, among others.”

    Miracles?  Yes, and mainly on the infrastructure front, the long-term propeller of the economy. 

    Compare and contrast: the Obasanjo-led PDP era — guzzling cash, dead infrastructure, in any case, in terms of roads and rail, the most visible.  PMB-led APC era: no cash, yet an infrastructure renaissance!

    Which leads to a related controversy: how can you bequeath a thumping infrastructure record, yet be accused of leaving a “dead economy”?  How?

    Well, maybe a failed — or even “disastrous” — monetary policy regime, for instance?  Fair call!  Still, can monetary policy alone decide the “life” or “death” of an economy, when not matched with fiscal policy — that in very simple terms warehouses public funding (tax mainly, plus sundry revenues), not excluding debt capital; and spends such on projects?

    That leads to another scarecrow: ballooning debt!  Well, in 2015, where was the economy: with the barn pawned along with the entire harvest, in a romp of free-wheeling graft? 

    Debt balancing is fair call.  But with no cash and the imperative to propel the economy, what are the hard choices outside debt capital?  It’s good that the Tinubu order has kept faith with that infrastructure renaissance.  Hardly any other way.

    Incidentally, one of these critical infrastructure — the 2nd Niger Bridge — sits in the back yard of Anambra Governor Chukwuma Soludo, the author and finisher of the “dead economy” theory.  That bridge is fitting answer to that amplified fib!

    PMB, in his challenging presidency, had to make hard choices.  But most rewarding, for his place in history, is his relay of redemptions. 

    The one that stopped the Lagos Metroline, in a fit of military hubris, was also the one that federalized rail, did the Lagos-Ibadan medium-gauge rail, aside supporting, to the hilt, the Lagos Blue and Red urban rail lines!

    But the redemption relay is even more glaring on the political front.  The junta head that pondered over 10 years of military power couldn’t wait to retire to his farm after eight years as elected president!

    And again, compare him to his former commander-in-chief and predecessor as two-term elected president.  The one plotted a third term that fell flat on his face.  The other vowed to stick — and did stick — to his two constitutional terms.

    The one barked and growled do-or-die to get a successor.  The other insisted on the sanctity of the ballot.

    The one harangued and harassed his PDP until it stumbled out of power.  The other, out of office, stayed off the fray, save occasional voicing of support for his successor.

    The one tried to impose May 29 as fake Democracy Day.  The other canonized June 12 as the real deal, rehabilitated  MKO’s memory and buried all annulment pretences.

    Ripples is proud to have faithfully captured PMB’s strides, as they rolled out, in the worst of economic seasons — as readers of this page would affirm.

    Mai Gaskiya, the Honest One!  You’ve earned your rest.  You had your faults too but have nothing else to prove. 

    Those who still cannot see are entitled to their democratic right to eternal blindness!

  • Of ADA, ADC and all that

    Of ADA, ADC and all that

    But for Ogbeni Rauf Aregbesola’s mix-up in it all, ADA and ADC — ADC,  like LP, clearly the latest whore in town for high-wire political hire — are a vortex of ironies.

    In 2013, a dummy APC — African People’s Congress — leapt from nowhere, as soon as the legacy opposition coalition announced their merger into APC — All Progressives Congress — now the ruling federal party, since 2015.

    But the moment INEC held that the dummy APC had breached section 222 (a) of the 1999 Constitution, with insufficient information for registration, it vanished to nowhere.  Wrecking APC’s formal registration had proved a mission impossible.

    Like 2013, like 2025: two ADAs — All Democratic Alliance and Advanced Democratic Alliance — were out there.  It’s not clear though, which is fake, which is real. 

    Still, unlike their fake APC ancestors-in-farce, one of the ADAs — which the Atiku-led coalitionists had pushed to empty into — dropped the enterprise like a steaming hot pot: they sighted a naughty alter ego at the registration party!  But that’s even the more civil interpretation of the burlesque.

    A less flattering account claimed the Atiku ADA scrammed the moment their social media tormentors forged for them a cynical logo — Ada (Yoruba for cutlass!) — to replace the ADA originally proposed logo of a corncob!

    In 2013, the real APC prevailed, the fake sunk.  In 2025, both ADCs may well sink sans trace.  But we’ll have to wait.

    Even then, this stillbirth ADA’s flee into ADC mimics yet another parallel: a 2019  exodus into this same ADC, registered since 2006, but largely dormant.

    In his trademark bluster, former President Olusegun Obasanjo had announced, with media drums and cymbals, that he had midwifed a political third force, outside APC and PDP — his sour grapes for being scorned by both, despite his venomous letters.

    That idea was a damp squib.  It didn’t fly beyond a dig at mutual opportunism. 

    Read Also: Oyebanji, Fayemi not for ADC, says aide

    Among those at that dig was the SDP (the poor clone of the original that powered MKO to epochal victory in 1993) that wanted to use Obasanjo, as Obasanjo wanted to use it. 

    But it all collapsed after the imperious Ebora Owu told Oba Olu Falae, then SDP national chair, to surrender SDP’s registration certificate; and Oba Falae told the Ebora to go dive into the nearby Ogun River! 

    After all the movement without motion, Obasanjo canonized ADC as pick for his 2019 election racket.  Again, at the polls, ADC made absolutely no impact.

    But the ADC electoral crash isn’t the story. The parallel of SDP-to-ADC pre-poll transit, in a futile bid for power, is.  Nothing mirrors that now than the impulsive Nasir El-Rufai.

    The former Kaduna governor boomed he had stormed into SDP, gobbled it up, and was summoning every political malcontent to come join him there to root out the ruling APC — pure gas!

    But as Falae called Obasanjo’s bluff, SDP leaders called El-Rufai’s.  As Obasanjo and his fictive “third force”, El-Rufai and loud coalition fled SDP into ADC!  It’s true: history repeats self as farce — but only after avoidable tragedy!

    Indeed, top hierarchs of new hire ADC come with a baggage.

    David Mark, a former brigadier-general, comes with two high blights.  He was not only spine of the political military’s conspiracy against June 12 (the harbinger of this democracy),  he threatened  —  by the late Prof. Omo Omoruyi’s account — to shoot President-elect MKO Abiola, should anyone dare to swear him into office. 

    Yes, MKO never hit Aso Rock. But Mark too failed to halt the re-advent of democracy, even if it came as a poisoned chalice, aka Army Arrangement (AA) — high blight No. 1.

    Ay, Mark romped back as elected Benue senator, in the democracy he had tried to kill, when their AA birthed, under Gen. Obasanjo, in 1999. But fate would have the last laugh: he sunk, with the PDP defeat of 2015, as the last Senate president of the PDP era — high blight No. 2.

    You then can imagine the propaganda ruin, en route to 2027, for ADA: its gifted cutlass logo, with Mark as protem national chair!  Mark and co dodged that bullet with the ADC landing!  But they all gained boos and jeers of treachery from a prostrate PDP!

    For ex-PDPs, Mark and co, apparently, that crippled behemoth is useless without its frenetic slogan — power! — which doubles as its lethal fixation!

    With Obasanjo’s rear shadow over ADC and Mark as its fake face, it’s the PDP military wing on the prowl again!   How they’ll fare, after their 2015 collapse, is left to be seen.

    With treachery, Atiku Abubakar stands fairly docked in the PDP court: Vee-Pee for eight years (1999-2007), two presidential slots much later (2019 and 2023) that ended in blistering defeats — even after moonlighting with AC (2007) and APC (2015) — yet Atiku’s payback is preening in his ADC hire cap and daring PDP to come join or die!

    PDP’s grand sin?  Hesitating to gift Atiku yet another ticket, for a putative hat trick of defeats in 2027!  Atiku, the “northern candidate”, wiped out PDP from much of the South in 2023!  Now he, the born-again pan-Nigerian, wants PDP to vaporize into ADC to brew his umpteenth presidential ticket!

    This is beyond treachery. It is crass entitlement, powered by a fox-trotting ingratitude!  Does Atiku ever ponder his legacy, beyond his desperation for presidential power?

    Then Peter Obi: only less peripatetic, in political opportunism, than Atiku himself!  From APGA, to PDP, to LP — and now to ADC?  The motor mouth, that talks 19 to the dozen, straddles to find his bearing!  Perhaps some soapy yarns and China stats would help?

    But Obi wastes his time haggling over a ticket.  He has the “capacity, competence and compassion” — to mimic Obi-speak — to form the Demagogues Party of Nigeria (DPN) and be a shoo-in as presidential candidate.  His Obidient zombies would be ecstatic!

    Then, the pair of El-Rufai and Rotimi Amaechi — the one PDP minster and APC governor, the other PDP governor and APC minister — proved themselves, as worthy of either party’s technocratic bastion, with plausible tenures.

    But their policies are brilliant as their politics is lousy! That explains why both have unravelled, because of self-stabbed political gashes.

    O, for a toast of grace, English romantic poet, John Keats would have roared!  Amaechi bawling: “I’m hungry! I’m hungry!” all over, as some uncouth Roman pleb. El-Rufai blowing his tops in rude and crude TV screeds and graceless X posts!

    Then, the take-away tri-absurdity: Atiku, Obi and Amaechi claiming they’d do only one presidential term, should they get the ADC ticket!  After selves, they can tell that to the marines!  Over that, trouble would soon brew in paradise!

    So, how did Ogbeni Aregebesola, the most ideologically driven politician of his generation, get mixed up with this wild breed?  How?

    The air is filled with treachery, ingratitude and allied moral strictures.  But the hard question, after the Awolowo-Akintola crisis of the 20th century: is 21st century Yoruba political conflict resolution still as tame as it was in the 1960s?  Sad to ponder!  Where are the elders?

    But a word for the ruling APC.  At least, the new ADC should lure it out of a false complacency of everyone collapsing into its ranks, with PDP in death throes.  Politics!

    Now governance.  Until the APC economic reforms morph from fancy numbers to bulging tummies, the ADA — sorry, ADC — pretenders, with their Obi demagogues, will fancy their chances of selling sweet poison — just as Donald Trump did to poor America!

  • Blues from Rivers

    Blues from Rivers

    Those whose palm kernels are cracked for them by benevolent spirits should learn to be humble — Igbo proverb, courtesy Chinua Achebe

    From Rivers, it’s blues for conflict proxies! War-weary Governor Siminalayi Fubara groans the armistice is “bitter and heavy”.  But it’s either Fubara ate crow or nothing!

    Still, that hardly makes Fubara a foolish man; or even craven, as many in his emotive ensemble are already blurting.  He just re-found wisdom at a stiff price. 

    In political brawling, awesome gubernatorial biceps are seldom enough.  As Sim just found out, high delusion of power only goads the governor to be a bully, hungry for a fight, whenever he sights a fella he can maul.  That pretty much summarizes Sim-1.

    But Sim-2(?) just faced off — and bowed to — a structure that made him; and was ready to maul him.  It was the underdog facing the netherworld.

    That is eminently ugly.  But it is what it is — and Fubara seems resigned to living that harsh reality.

    Or is he?  Maybe not!  That explains the puff, huff and gruff from his conflict proxies.

    The shock and awe of vanished combat, as Fubara himself hugs peace — more of pacification, they scoff — has clearly thrown his proxies into fresh tantrums. 

    None would appear more dramatic than the antics on the media front of Arise TV.

    The duo of Reuben Abati and Rufai Oseni wailed and cried, hissed and shrilled, screamed and screeched, over what Abati called the Fubara “surrender”!  Is crying more than the bereaved part of their mandate as TV anchors?

    By the way, which media canon turns TV anchors — equivalent of senior reporters, or at most, desk editors in the newspaper newsroom — to double as opinion writers — or worse: live editorial thunder for their TV — ranting to soothe their bruised egos?

    That was exactly what Abati and Oseni assumed in the aftermath of “peace” from Rivers.  Both had backed the wrong horse, based on nothing, but frothy sentiments — and inserted themselves into the fray as they are wont to. 

    Seeing their poor horse writhing in pain and defeat would appear too much to bear!  That seems why they interpret the Rivers denouement as craven collapse.

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    Oseni went making gaseous claims on air.  It’s all about Rivers resources! It has nothing to do with the Rivers people — maybe! But again, it’s the market folks’ credo: blab what “everybody knows” but get suddenly tongue-tied, when summoned to provide concrete proof! 

    There has got to be a limit to populist rascality on air! 

    Abati too flipped, went ape with “unconditional surrender! unconditional surrender!”, in clear disorientation: with the dazed gait of an agama lizard that just fell off the high Iroko tree, and needed frenetic nodding to reassure itself it’s still alive and well! 

    If the pair hoped such on-air tantrums would make a dent on Fubara’s “unconditional surrender”, they are entitled to their democratic delusions!

    On media professionalism, isn’t it high time the National Broadcasting Commission (NBC) imposed standards in this era of “broadcasting of anything goes” — as in Sani Abacha’s Nigerian Army of anything goes?

    But back to Rivers and its aftermath.

    No less upset are Fubara’s other sympathizers, on the Ijaw and allied political fronts.  A report claimed the likes of Timi Frank, Uche Secondus, Peter Odili, Asari Dokubo, and Ann-Kio Briggs were upset with Fubara — understandably so.

    Even Dele Momodu wondered if Fubara would have died, had he not fallen on his sword, just to regain his governorship.

    Now, each of these confederates came to the Sim combat with own intimate motives.  Frank has been incensed since he parted ways with APC. Wike is to Secondus a mentor-turned-tormentor. 

    For Ann-Kio Briggs and Asari Dokubo, it’s Ijaw power and glory, garnished with strutting Ijaw exceptionalism, championed by the dead Edwin Clark.  Dr. Odili, a mentor backed a wrong mentee, in the Rivers power civil war.  Momodu is newfound PDP activist and caregiver, when PDP itself is on self-caused death bed!

    Long story cut short: they didn’t love Sim for Sim; but as putative strong breed to cut arrogant Wike to size! 

    No crime, to be sure — Wike himself had it coming.  But the harsh reality is Fubara hasn’t quite pulled off that rogue regicide.  By embracing peace — or pacification — he just decided to cut his loss, and serve out the rest of his troubled tenure.

    Half-bread is better than none?  Hardly illogical, even if moral purists would pout, growl and bark! 

    Still, Momodu’s rhetorical question, bristling with moral scorn, stings no less. The question, though: had each of these folks acquired power the way Fubara did, what would they have done, faced with such a stark choice: eat crow or be eaten?  Talk is cheap! 

    Still, it resonates with romantics, fixated with what might have been, had the underdog somewhat trumped the over-dog!  Well, that hasn’t happened — and Fubara just chose to live, warts and all!

    If he chooses craven life over heroic death — as Momodu’s harsh stricture hinted — it’s his democratic choice!

    But that links us right back to the opening quote of this piece: those whose palm kernels have been cracked for them by benevolent spirits should learn to be humble — lest those spirits turn malevolent!

    That aptly captures the Rivers crisis.  Really, knowing how he got power — being picked over everyone — Sim should have been more circumspect.  Power always has own catches!  If really it was all about “Rivers’ money” as Oseni claimed, Sim couldn’t have been the only saint in the dirty coven of wizards and witches, no matter how anyone spins it.

    Then, a question of “war-time” strategy! While Wike warred, he did his job as FCT minister and ensured, every second, he pointed — and still points — attention to his deliverables. Like him or hate him, Wike delivers, anywhere, anytime.

    On the contrary Fubara — maybe pressured into it? —  allowed the crisis to define his term until the emergency pause.  However this peace — or pacification — pans out, Rivers people ere entitled to some relief.  They should draw democratic dividends, not perpetually dive — for cover — before political warlords.

    With the balance of forces, Wike appears to have won the war, bringing to heel a rebellious protégée.  But will he win the peace? 

    That’s doubtful. His work rate is top-notch. But with his penchant to rub in stuff, his grace is inverse to his industry.  So, don’t be surprised if brash Wike bawls around town, impressing it on everyone the lord and master is here! But at least Sim-2 (poor guy!) knows what he’s signing again into!

    Still, things would get progressively clearer as we near 2027.  That Sim-2 signed a one-term pact to regain his governorship is no news. The Wike structure will never trust him with power again.

    But who says Sim can’t re-contest, with or without the Wike structure, with his own Simplified lobby waiting in the wings?  Election 2027?  Rivers, for good or for ill, is a state to watch!

  • Emperor over crumbling empire?

    Emperor over crumbling empire?

    Imagine an emperor strutting over a crumbling empire? 

    That perfectly projects the latest legalism, from the Inspector-General of Police (IGP), Kayode Egbetokun, in his latest opposition to state police.

    If indeed the IGP is a crack mathematician — he earned his first degree in Mathematics from the University of Lagos — then he would realize the math just doesn’t add up!

    State police is an idea whose time has come.  It would be enlightened self-interest for the who-is-who in the national security apparatus to support it. 

    Every passing day returns the same grim verdict: a centralized police, that the Nigeria Police now constitutes, can’t deal with the current security crisis.

    It’s time to face the harsh reality and stop playing the ostrich, because of extant power and positions.  There’s neither power nor glory in vanishing quicksand!

    Yet, the IGP’s legal take, to the House of Representatives constitutional review dialogue, themed “Nigeria’s Peace and Security: the Constitutional Imperative”, is hardly haram.  Before we take any wise step, we must be steeped in the constitutional birthing of the Nigeria Police.

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    The IGP, insisting on Section 214(1) of the 1999 Constitution, which lawfully allows only one centralized Police, told us what we already know.  But then, isn’t replacing that unitary police, in a supposed federal state, the reason for having this dialogue?

    Worse: doesn’t that law — cast in stone ? — grimly remind us how harsh reality has beaten it black and blue? 

    The result?  Lost lives and hewn limbs, seasonal bloodbath in the macabre massacre of the helpless and peaceful, with the central authorities pledging to do better, each time killers strike.  Yet, are condemned to re-making same grim promises, when terror strikes next time? 

    Wasn’t the IGP struck by the irony of these ardent but never fulfilled promises?

    They are ardent but unfulfilled  — or even unfulfillable — not because the Nigeria Police is incompetent.  Even with its bad eggs, our cops rank among the finest anywhere.  They are near-unfulfillable because the police, no matter how earnest or dutiful, are already trumped by an impossible structure! 

    There simply is an imperative for more boots on the ground, especially in Nigeria’s wide, wild and un-policed spaces.  The Federal Government simply can’t go it alone. 

    It needs complementary investment from state governments that can, for now, afford it.  Those who can’t, right now, can follow later.  Easy breezy?  Not quite! 

    Which then leads straight to the Nigerian power elite’s centralist mindset, when they hit the federal capital of Abuja — an irony in itself?  That’s masked by paternalism that crows but seldom delivers!  If it did, we would still not be in this insecurity mess.

    Such strange paternalism was dutifully reflected in the IGP’s anti-state police position.

    “Let me state unequivocally that the National Police Force acknowledges the rationale behind the demand for state police,” conceded the IGP,  “including the desire for locally responsive policing, quicker reaction to community-level threats, and decentralized law enforcement presence.”

    “However,”  — it’s glorious paternalism, stupid! — “our assessment, based on current political, institutional and socio-economic realities, shows that Nigeria is not yet … politically prepared for the initialization of police powers to the state level.”

    Why? “Key concerns include the possibility of political misuse of police powers at the state level, lack of funding capacity by most states to maintain and equip a state control force, the potential for fragmentation of national security, intelligence and command, the absence of regulatory architecture to ensure standard and operational cohesion”.

    Let no one hurry to shoo the IGP out of the room.  Indeed, his fears are backed by solid historical horrors, in the 1st Republic order (1960-1966), that caused so much disorder and sent the political military grate-crashing into power.

    Indeed, it was a period best forgotten!  Alkali police in the North and naked thugs, hiding under local police, visiting mayhem; and muscling elections in the name of the local rogue order.  It’s rather forgettable, from the prism of police professionalism.

    So, a furious military, with no command flexibility, would go the other extreme of re-shaping the Police in its centralized, bristling law-and-order image.  No crime!

    Still, has the Federal Government, with a police that takes orders from the President and commander-in-chief, via his operational viceroy, the IGP, fared better?  Hardly!

    The Shehu Shagari era (1979-1983) birthed the Mobile Police unit, notoriously re-named “Kill and Go”!  President Olusegun Obasanjo, in his two (s)elections of 2003 and 2007 — his 2007 war cry was do-or-die — had the police proudly embedded in that electoral heist and rape. 

    To be fair, though: many governors, if they had the chance, would gladly have misused and abused the police, without blinking, for selfish ends.

    So, if abuse is an equal-opportunity possibility, why would the federal czar posture it would abuse the police less than the many wannabe czars in the 36 states?

    To that extent, much of the IGP’s anti-state police worries are just stacking cards and stoking fears.  The lesson of history and strict laws and regulations should take care of those. 

    In any case, why should past fears cripple our thinking and shackle us to past horrors, when what to do is fresh and rigorous thinking, to make laws that should impose security in today’s dynamic setting?

    That’s what the new thinking in state police is all about. 

    That dynamism, most times, is dangerous and life-threatening.  But that precisely makes an unassailable case for state police, over the present clumsy omnibus.

    The “North”, not long ago, was an impregnable fortress against state police.  Now, harsh reality has set in — and the “North” has become cheer leaders in state police advocacy!

    They see the yeoman efforts by the Army, the Police — conventional or secret — with the other security sister agencies. Yet, these agencies often fall short, when the chips are down!

    Isn’t it better then, to merge state and federal investments in policing, federalize command-and-control to localize policing, effectively cover more of ungoverned spaces and maximize the grassroots to tap intelligence, and curtail crimes, even before they are committed?

    Isn’t that better than the President, as he did in Benue, wondering aloud why the IGP and his (wo)men had not made any arrests, among the latest band of marauders?

    Questioning the appropriateness of state police is rather belated.  The challenge, right now, is to put in place stout laws to regulate operation and check abuse. 

    It’s not about a superman at the centre playing Hercules.  That has failed us for much too long!

    It’s rather a super-structure that federalizes the Police, but puts in place robust checks and balances, at every level of the command chain.

  • Sani’s loot, Mariam’s tale

    Sani’s loot, Mariam’s tale

    The three witches, in William Shakespeare’s Macbeth, scammed that tragic hero into regicide. 

    But the then Thane of Glamis little knew that the actual witch was his wife: the no less tragic Lady Macbeth.

    Yes, the three witches teased Macbeth into illicit crown and doom, with co-General Banquo consumed as collateral damage — no thanks to blind royal ambition and paranoia.  But the evil Lady Macbeth drove the entire catastrophe.

    Still, beyond the avoidable tragedy that consumed both, let no one compare the Scottish Macbeth with Nigeria’s Sani Abacha, beyond that they were both generals.

    Before his self-induced fall, Macbeth was a noble general in the Scottish Army. 

    The doomed but grateful King Duncan confirmed Macbeth’s chivalry, after the “hurly-burly” was done; after “the battle was lost and won”; and Macbeth was romped from Thane of Glamis to Thane of Cawdor. 

    That promotion was even fore-crowed by the witches, who also “fed” Macbeth with regicide!  Poor Duncan! He was fatally naive to have lodged in traitor Macbeth’s castle!

    Abacha was none of Macbeth’s nobility, though he shared his treachery.

    Contrasted to Macbeth, Abacha was always a thug-in-uniform and a coup rat who, no thanks to military ethnic politics, was promoted above his stark mind into the red-neck cadre, when he ought to have been weeded out.

    Even as ratsy Head of State — he ratted the pitiable Ernest Shonekan out of power by sacking his illicit Interim National Government (ING) to impose himself — he was anything but noble: infernal bully, stark killer and ace thief with gargantuan greed.  His blasted memory is defined by stupendous sleaze, popularly tagged “Abacha loot”.

    Indeed, his name is an eternal stain on the Army rank of “General”. His humongous loot, which over-powering stench from his grave even 27 years after, continues to warn our present service (wo)men: Abacha is a classic tutorial on how not to be a General!

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    So, does widow Mariam Abacha think an insensitive TV interview, from the loot-cushioned luxury of her private space, would wipe out her husband’s horror from the Nigerian public mind?

    On this one, Mrs. Abacha looked rather like the evil, but much less delusional Lady Macbeth, even after she had lost our mind.  Lady Macbeth admitted that not even all the waters from the Atlantic could wash her hand clean of King Duncan’s blood.

    Mrs. Abacha clearly thinks otherwise in her grand delusion!  But she kids no one.

    Not even all the looted wealth the Abacha family now wallow in, nor all the insulting platitudes she spewed in that ill-advised interview, could blot out her hubby’s horrible memory: from a country he raped, the people he killed and maimed, the exiled families he split, and the Nigerian Army he disgraced and near-destroyed.

    The cheek of it — Mrs. Abacha grumbled about her husband’s unfair demonization; and moaned about fraternal love!

    Pray, how can you demonize the demon that her husband was?  How?

    Then, fraternal love!  Wasn’t Abacha, the brute that killed and maimed, to retain grubby power, the violent opposite of love?  Weren’t Abacha and love two parallel lines that would never meet?

    Where was Mrs. Abacha when her husband was bumping off Alhaja Kudirat Abiola, wife of the Basorun MKO Abiola, whose only crime was protesting her husband-in-Abacha’s gulag, for winning the June 12, 1993 presidential election? 

    That protest, for the grim and murderous Abacha regime, was high treason — high treason that earned Heroine Kudirat, and hundreds of nameless patriots, the death penalty in the streets of Lagos, from Abacha’s illicit bullets from licit arms!

    Yes, to be fair, Abacha didn’t kill MKO.  Abacha had expired in disgrace before MKO’s sudden death.  Thus, that query belongs to Gen. Abdulsalami Abubakar, who ran a short transitional government that made the political military scurry into the barracks, after an “Army Arrangement” transition that handed power to Olusegun Obasanjo.

    But with MKO spending his entire presidential term (1994-1998) in his gulag, Abacha sure dug MKO’s open grave. So, what’s Mrs. Abacha’s newfound “love” to the Abiolas? 

    That it was okay to be brutally rendered full orphans, for rogue political reasons?

    Their patriarch won a free election — the freest and fairest in Nigerian history.  Gen. Ibrahim Babangida annulled that election.  Abacha, the cursed Khalifa, sustained it. 

    Now, 27 years later, Mrs. Abacha now preaches “love”, to protest the “demonization” of the brute that her husband was, without any apology for his heinous crimes?  Now, is that not raw witchery?  Love indeed!

    Again, an Abacha/Abiola comparison.

    The one stole his country blind, leaving cursed riches for his offspring. The ones he left behind push their democratic right to the inviolability of that loot.

    The other — though a military-era contractor accused of sweetheart deals — used his first-class mind and brain to grow his wealth in almost all sectors of the economy, not even mentioning his larger-than-life compassion for the poor and generosity to all.

    Now, the lean Abacha cow — to borrow that biblical image — gobbled up the fat Abiola bull, assassinated his wife and destroyed his thriving many ventures, aside sitting on the N45 billion debt the Federal Govermnent owed the man — classic military outlawry!

    All his wife could mutter, after 27 years, is growl demonization and moan false love!

    Spread the justifiable hurt and noble ire of the Abiola clan, into millions of Nigerian households no less furious at Abacha’s savage power play, and you’ll gauge the level of legitimate anger against the Abachas, because of their patriarch’s grim sins. 

    If Mrs. Abacha even realizes the tenth of that resent laced with contempt, from millions of Nigerian families, she would not have been so sanguine in her interview.

    Her hare-brained lies, to edify her best-forgotten husband, is best dismissed without much ado.  She claimed the ace thief didn’t steal but saved money for Nigeria. Really?  In his private and coded foreign accounts? 

    Perhaps Abacha was Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) personified; or the Nigerian state, cloned after the French King Louis XIV: L’Etat, c’est moi — The state, it is me!

    The other fib is that her husband was so powerful and well-loved!  O sure! 

    His might was powered by strutting cowardice, so much so that he had to kill whoever disagreed with him, having no brain for civil discourse, anyway!

    As for love, Abacha was so well-loved that when he expired, it was thrilling news that Nigerians capered in the streets, screaming “divine intervention” had taken away such a plague!

    But the ultimate perverse joy, from the show of shame by Mrs. Abacha — at least for the history-minded — is the umpteenth whodunit over June 12!

    IBB claimed Abacha did it.  Abacha’s wife counter-claimed her hubby, dead as dodo, didn’t.  For the entire clan of the political military, dead or alive, June 12 — and MKO who they thought they infernally cheated — continue to be their nemesis.  May their agony last forever!

    The Abacha matriarch’s rant again stresses the arch-evil of military rule.  May we never experience such plague in our country again — never!

  • Amaechi’s peculiar hunger

    Amaechi’s peculiar hunger

    Rotimi Amaechi’s peculiar hunger sucks.  It makes him talk a lot of rot.

    Nyesom Wike, at his belligerent best, mocked: how would Ameachi not be hungry? Speaker for eight years; governor for another eight; minister for yet another eight: 24 unbroken years, from 1999 to 2003!

    Why would Baby Rotimi not screech, His Bristling Majesty, the Ezenwo, pressed, if you removed that “feeder”?  Gofment pikin, as they would say in the pidgin high street!

    Why does Amaechi’s political naïveté upbraid Karma for Siminalayi Fubara, Wike’s embattled successor, who now skins Wike — at least, pre-Rivers emergency rule — as Wike himself had skinned Amaechi, his predecessor?

    Why does Amaechi’s loose talks ennoble Wike, even at his most combative form?

    Amaechi also brags: he didn’t support APC candidate (now President) Bola Tinubu — and that he told him so, to his face — because of “capacity”!  Pray, what capacity?

    Make no mistake: Amaechi was a fine governor of Rivers. His avant-garde public primary and secondary schools, complete with tartan tracks for healthy school sports, was uncommon brilliance and people-first service.

    As a minister too, he brought infectious passion to his rail modernization mandate. That plan was not new: it was the comprehensive rail revamp of the dying years of the Olusegun Obasanjo presidency.

    Yet, Amaechi’s passion and the sheer grit of his principal, President Muhammadu Buhari, brought it new life; the same parallel grit that got the Dangote Refinery over the line, which made the Tinubu-era removal of fuel subsidy less foreboding, because of the twinkling possibilities of local refining in pump price moderation.

    Still, who is Amaechi to talk of “capacity”, when Tinubu is the subject?

    First, the policy front.  Peter Odili, Rivers governor (1999-2007) when Amaechi was Speaker of the Rivers legislature, was Governor Tinubu’s peer: Tinubu was Lagos governor, the same time Odili was Rivers’.

    Odili was of the federal ruling party, PDP.  Tinubu was from the opposition: the defunct Alliance for Democracy (AD), from with he carved out AC, in time for the 2007 polls.

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    Despite Tinubu lumbering under a comatose AD — and the constant strafing from Obasanjo and his PDP, being the sole survivor among the South West AD governors from 2003 — which of two showed more “capacity”: Odili or Tinubu?

    The one, despite PDP’s famed “federal might”, was content to milk Rivers’ oil wealth, via thumping derivation from the central purse, with little or no value-added. 

    The other birthed a completely new economy, in IT-powered revenue mobilization and capture, that propelled the Lagos economy alone to be stronger than any economy in West Africa, except Nigeria’s.

    While the Tinubu Lagos order pushed the high engineering that eventually saved Victoria Island, and gifted Eko Atlantic City as gilt-edged bonus, Amaechi, as governor couldn’t even carry through his Okrika beachfront renewal project — “over the dead body” of Okrika girl and former First Lady, Patience Fika Jonathan.

    To those who love to brag that Wike had no godfather, Mama Peace, in the Jonathan court, was the mighty godmother that pushed Wike to the Rivers governorship; and rendered Ameachi a politically displaced person (PDP) in Rivers, even after he had junked PDP, as APC’s high-flying Transport minister.

    Besides, Amaechi’s urban rail, years after he let office, is still only a hanging dream. The Lagos urban rail, brewed during the Tinubu years, is already on, with Blue and Red lines done and dusted, work starting on the Green line, the Blue line on the brink of extension to Okokomaiko from Mile 2, and talks buzzing on the Purple line, from the Redeemed Camp in Ogun State to Ojo, in Lagos.

    Capacity!  So, what pre-presidential capacity was Amaechi talking about?

    Then, to politics, which is even starker!

    Pre-1999 from 1993, when Amaechi’s political ancestors were still hedging their bets, not deciding if the war against the political military wasn’t class suicide — democracy be damned! — Tinubu threw himself, and everything he had, into the fray.

    Even after anti-democracy forces had gained ascendancy, from the panicky, military-rigged transition, it was this same Tinubu that bided his time and eventually chased them all away: first from his native South West from 2007; then from Abuja, in 2015.

    Did Amaechi ever think he was as pivotal to the APC alliance and eventual merger, as Buhari and Tinubu, the most senior partners? Did he ever think, colourful court rumours aside, that Buhari would junk his partner, and pick Amaechi as his successor, even within the democratic framework?

    Believe that, you believe anything! 

    Besides, as the Odili Rivers house is sundered — witness Amaechi, Wike and Fubara, pulling in different directions — the Tinubu Lagos house still stands, though a little frayed at the edges too.  Yet, Amaechi blabs “capacity”!

    This same conceit pushes Amaechi to another wild goose chase: the Atiku-el-Rufai-Amaechi gang-up, simply because they all declared themselves tired of power Siberia!

    This though, comes with a caveat — or two.

    Court commentators and avid meddlers have hardly been fair to el-Rufai, on his post-2023 poll blues. Even if el-Rufai was dumped by the president, must they always rub it in? If they can’t make new friends for the president, must they mint him new foes?

    The president himself, for good or for ill, will answer for his harsh surgical policies.  He campaigned as a “progressive”.  But his ultra-right economic policies — business first, the people much later — paints him as a pragmatist, now powered by neo-liberalism.

    Even then Tinubu, warts and all, still towers above these three in the so-called “capacity” — policies or politics.

    Abubakar Atiku is fated to political self-destruct.  He’s only in for what he can get out.  As Obasanjo’s Vice President, he made himself president of vice to upstage his boss.

    As part of APC, he scurried off immediately he couldn’t land the presidential ticket. 

    At a critical juncture of North-South power-sharing in 2023, he chose self over PDP, his party; and self over the North, his region.  By that, he near-completely smashed PDP in the South.  That party may never recover from that setback. 

    His blind power ardour is yet again leading him to familiar doom in 2027.  The grim logic is simple: if you’re not there for anyone, why should anyone be there for you?

    El-Rufai’s self-nemesis is emotional retardation.  As acute is he is — one of the most brilliant minds of his generation, North or South — he’s emotionally stunted. 

    That explains his tragic presumptions: as rushing to declare himself SDP — but thinking deeply about it much later! — just to spite real or phantom APC foes.

    It’s this deluded company that Amaechi joins, in strutting naïveté, to further shatter his mystique. 

    Well, he comes with a rich resume!  Who would shun his ruling APC Abuja presidential glory, to join the Umuahia inauguration of LP Abia Governor, Alex Otti, just to make the point he is sulking, over an election lost and won?

    Politics might be a leveller, where everyone is free to brag. But for Amaechi, comparing himself to Tinubu on “capacity”, is raw conceit that shows nothing but full emptiness!

    Again, colourful pidgin has the last word — and laugh: capacity kee you dia!

  • Born-again Fubara?

    Born-again Fubara?

     It was “Hardball”, The Nation’s unsigned back-page column, that first flagged the new Fubara, in “Fubara comes of age” (May 16).

    Far from the threaten-first, think-later cruise of his pre-suspension days, embattled Rivers Governor, Siminalayi Fubara, was sounding radically different: more conciliatory, less combative.

    He warned his supporters, who even at the event, had their victimhood orchestra blaring at its loudest decibel to, for once, swallow the chill pill.  “Oshobay” — no-retreat-no-surrender — he warned, could be counter-productive.

    He told them to bawl less and think more.  Between tactical din and strategic quiet, Fubara just voted the loud quiet — and he picked no bones about it!

    Lest anyone, he further warned, goes blabbing after the event that wily Fubara begs in the day but plots in the night!  Enough of “Oshobay”! 

    Now, is this a born-again Fubara? 

    No insulting of judges in hallowed courts of justices? No traducement of the Inspector-General of Police (IGP) and his troopers, over a local government poll, later declared null and void?  No colourful signals to “youths” — with raucous cheers — to await instructions at the right time, even as Rivers was about to go up in smoke?

    Indeed, is this Fubara born-again?

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    “Hardball” really played hard ball with devastating lexis, over the collapse of that rash tactic: “Fubara has eaten crow.  Clark is gone to meet his maker.  ‘Oshobay’ is in the morgue”!  A stinging satire never sounded more biting!

    The irony though was that old man Edwin Clark, in whose sweet memory that occasion was forged, was the unfazed champion of “Oshobay”. 

    The radical old man, even at his “departure lounge”, never tired of pushing hot Ijaw nationalism and frothy Fubara exceptionalism: nativist twin-pillars to propel the governor to victory, despite his clear lack of “structure” — beyond cunning conflict entrepreneurs edging him on for own hot bucks; and sundry hustlers goading the governor to buck the Wike boat, for own sinecures!

    The thunder from Delta barked and quaked: the presidential peace papers were infra dig for the Rivers governor.  By virtue of his all-mighty office, he must hold all of the aces! 

    But now?  The rage is gone.  Clark is dead.  All is quiet on the Delta front.  And Fubara, on the Rivers front, finds himself holding the short end of the political stick!

    A power tale is never more sobering!  The surrender, never more craven and shattering — in any case, to Fubara’s gung-ho supporters! Still, a retreat, in the face of cold reality, would appear harsh common sense.

    That harsh reality comes clearly across as Fubara marks his “second year” in office, though in exile!  A four-year term could now be short by six months.  Still, half-bread is better than none!

    That’s the clear message from the Fubara camp, with the governor himself playing the loud messenger-in-chief. And NBA, that hitherto played to the gallery on the emergency question, is funereally mum!

    Unlike the dead Clark thunder that blasted the Abuja peace accord and torched the Rivers emergency declaration papers, the living but wiser Fubara is praising the president to high heavens, as his second-year message.

    The governor’s chief of staff, who hitherto had threatened a fight-to-finish with the Wike camp, is content with happy ads about the “old” times of halcyon power, set to return in less than six months! 

    It’s another cruel reality check, that further decries the old tactics, without necessarily saying so.  Between the Wike and Fubara camps, it’s fresh clamour for presidential adoration!

    Still, both sights are set on different spots: Fubara, to at least regain lost diadem. Wike, to fully control the 2027 Rivers sweepstakes.  President Bola Tinubu appears in the roaring vortex of both. 

    Common sense demands that he be courted — and so be it, from both camps!

    So, if Fubara, who virtually declared, at the Clark tribute, that his “soul” had departed the Rivers State House, now says he wants new peace and amity with his “Oga” — read Nyesom Wike — then you know why!

    Both may yet get what they crave in the very short term: Fubara’s return to office after six months, or even less, if the armistice and peace terms are fast firmed up.

    As Fubara is pushing new conciliation — and Wike too, claiming he never fought his “boy”: only the crass opportunists that led him astray — Fubara could return to office under a tight Wike leash. 

    It’s left to the President: to whom both camps swear fealty; and other chefs in the peace kitchen — blessed are the peace makers! — to cook honourable and non-humiliating peace. 

    Good luck on that though, for Wike never resists a canter and gallop of triumph, though that might bury the vanquished in the dust!  But who cares?

    Yet, honourable peace is imperative. 

    Let it not be the Rivers equivalent of Germany’s Weimar Republic (1918-1933), chafing from the harsh terms of the Treaty of Varsailles, only to breed Hitler. Hitler and killer gang seized a craven German surrender in War War 1 (1914-1918), to lunch a worse Armageddon in World War 2 (1939-1945)!

    It now might appear all quiet on the Rivers front. But there is enough tinder lying around, like dry thatch in the harmattan, to convulse the place, with any careless move!

    Which makes this counsel to bear repeating: as Fubara re-shapes self as peacenik, gentle as a dove, Wike too should learn to be less abrasive and belligerent.

    But even with both coming to party with their best behaviour, the crunch will come with second-term sweepstakes.  Fubara should not kid himself: the Wike “structure” can’t trust him with power again. 

    Neither should Wike too suffer any illusion: Fubara would grab a possible second term, within or without Wike’s structure — not after losing six months from his first.

    Everyone waits — holding their breaths — as the two friends-turned-fiends, navigate this testy juncture.  Will fiends yet turn friends again?  Or would it be “To your tent, o Rivers”?  Time will tell!

    But the auguries are hardly good.  As President Bola Tinubu works hard at changing the conventional path to the presidency, amid a ferocious gang-up by Atiku-led “me-too” ensemble, Rivers could well become a veritable battle ground.

    The old fiefdom of Peter Odili is carved into three: under Wike, Fubara and Rotimi Amaechi, with General Peter himself all but a bemused spectator!  He backed a wrong horse in Fubara!

    Who carries the day? Will Fubara, junked by the Wike camp, team up with the Atiku/ Amaechi forces, to grit out who owns the land?  We wait!

  • Two years

    Two years

    S’eru bawon vs d’aya ja won! — Intimidation vs intimidation!

    That’s the government thunder versus the opposition bomb, with 2027 in view, as the Tinubu order clocks two!

    The starry-eyed, easily swayed by dummies and counter-dummies, sundry sensation and allied stuff, have more than enough popcorn to crunch, at a gripping movie!

    Atiku Abubakar, spurred as always by a wild presidential obsession, trots, canters and gallops all over, in search of a coalition — or even merger — to live his dream.

    But he forgets he’s no Bola Tinubu who though declared being president his “life-long” ambition, knew when to feint and when to thrust, until he landed the big prize.

    Atiku — jooro, jaara, jooro — (apologies to Fela and his explosive Zombie album), to alleged marabouts’ sweet prophecies, easily forgets his insensate tragedy of 2023! 

    In response — or is it parri-pasu now? — the Tinubu order, grandmasters of political cut-and-thrust, mounts own foxtrots.

    After Delta, another tsunami looms in Akwa Ibom, like Delta since 1999, a PDP fortress! It appears another grim tale of a ragged umbrella torn and ripped in ceaseless gale!

    Baba Iyabo, in his Ebora Owu lair, must be taking quite some sombre tutorials! After his garrison command tactics of crude hug-and-crush, he is fated to gawking — with saliva trickling from both sides of the mouth! — as the real McCoys wave the real charm, yet potent opposition poison!

    First, Delta.  Looming: Akwa Ibom.  Next? 

    It’s defections and rumors of defections all over! And all that from the fella Obasanjo’s powerful machine once rendered the “last man standing” in 2003!  It’s true: vengeance is best served very cold!

    What did Heraclitus, the old Greek say?  You can’t step in the same river twice! Indeed!

    As the opposition plots, old paths to the Presidency are fast going up in smoke!  These blokes are not unlike the doomed Saddam Hussein, who arrayed his elite Republican Guard in the old staid way of battle, only to be blown away by some nimble, fast and furious, “shock and awe” monsters, from George Bush’s America!

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    Still, is 2027 a wrap for the president?  Not a chance!  But the Atiku armada seems off-pace too by the day!  We’ll await how all the high drama pans out.

    To seize the people’s minds, the policy front is another theatre of claims and counter-claims.

    The Tinubu order claims it’s putative nirvana. The opposition rank scoffs it’s regression to sheer hell.  Both play on the hyperbole.  The stark reality is in-between.

    Still, seeing the Federal Government dish out stats about the economy turning the bend gives you the feeling of deja vu — have we not seen all of this before?

    Indeed, the well-loved Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, both under Olusegun Obasanjo and Goodluck Jonathan, once bandied similar stats, giving the impression that it was some quarter to paradise.

    You have that same feeling, as Tinubu’s ministers belt out their feats two years later.  Both eras belong to elite testimonies. The bemused masses are but distant onlookers!

    Still, to be fair, there would appear some hard progression. 

    While the Obasanjo era celebrated “debt-forgiveness”, the Tinubu order is posting the payment of hardcore debts, as any nation with honour and dignity would.

    From “rebasing” by Okonjo-Iweala to fatten the cow, a Wale Edun-driven fiscal order, even from a lean cow, is posting the alluring promise of a US$ 1 trillion economy; and seems intensely in the works, doing all the hard restructuring, to make that a reality.

    Indeed, the stats look impressive, even to the apolitical; but outright scary to the opposition: exit from the IMF debt list, with the body itself, the harsh doctor from Bretton Woods, issuing a clean bill of health; a US$ 14 billion reduction from the government’s inherited debt stock: US$ 108.2 billion to US$ 94.2 billion in two years.

    Sounds far superior to craven — and futile — “debt forgiveness” of the Obasanjo era, which blew oil windfall that could have rebuilt infrastructure, on a pipe dream!

    Then, a 4.6% year-on-year GDP growth in 4th quarter 2024, with even more mouth-watering prospects for 2025.  Also, 3rd quarter 2024: a record trade surplus of N5.81 trillion: N20.5 trillion exports vs N14.7 trillion imports, powered by non-oil exports.

    These stats just prompted Reno Omokri, a Tinubu Saul-turned-Paul, to announce his ringing endorsement for the president to run for second term.

    But even for those that cannot crunch economic numbers, there is something much more banal, in the metamorphosis over the years. 

    The Obasanjo years — the former president loves to brag it was the best of the PDP years — was defined by Works Minister Tony Anenih’s moans of “no cash backing”. That explained the infrastructure limbo of those years; prompting the economic sink.

    The Tinubu years — just two years — are boasting good stats, complete with David Umahi, the Works minister that not tantalizes with audacious infrastructure in the works, but also strategic public-private sector initiatives, for all-season funding, to free critical infrastructure of the plague of no cash backing for budgets.

    But if the administration were to play less the Titan Atlas, it would admit that it was an admirable renaissance it inherited from the Buhari Presidency. 

    Had it logged on to that from the beginning, it would by now have built a clear-cut case for a definitive difference between the PDP and APC epochs. That means the government can do far better in strategic communications — at least to counter the cheap talk that APC is no different from PDP.  In infrastructure, they are day vs night.

    But alas!  It would appear the last-regime-must-be-painted-bad-for-mine-to-shine is wired to the DNA of government propagandists!  It’s all so infantile.

    So, with the Tinubu order seemingly worsting the opposition in both defection politics and solid stats from policies, is the coast clear for 2027?  Hardly!

    The twin-pillars of its reforms — oil subsidy removal and floating of the Naira — have shovelled far more cash into governments’ till, at all levels.  But the frightful inflation both have triggered has made the majority far poorer and miserable.

    Though a few rogues have been fingered for both decisions, the “savings” from subsidy have not quite percolated into households, rich or poor. 

    Folks buy fuel at hiked pump prices. But even when the so-called subsidy thieves ruled the roost, citizens enjoyed far lower pump prices, translating into far lower inflation. That appears a lost paradise now!

    Oosa b’oole gbami, se mi b’ose ba mi!  — the Yoruba often quip: if the deity can’t improve my lot, let it at least return me to how I was!

    Yes, the Tinubu order always says the pains are temporary; and also that inflation is trending down.  Maybe. 

    But for 2027 to be sure, it runs an explosive race against time, for all of these sweet stats to resonate in citizens’ pockets.

    In truth, it appears an eerie recap of May 2001 in Lagos, when Governor Tinubu turned two in office.  It was a classic ebudola — throaty curses-turned-deluge of praises — as the governor hugged his third year in office.

    That might well be a fine historical augury for his presidency.  But to make assurance doubly sure, the masses must have a feel of the rumoured coming good times.