Category: Festus Eriye

  • Social media regulators, hate speech exterminators

    By Festus Eriye

    If you were to ask the average person what should be our priority at this time, they would probably say affordable food, healthcare, education, housing, motorable roads, security and so on.

    The government – executive and legislative branches – would insist they are doing everything to deliver on the above fronts.

    While we await results, there appears to be some agreement between the arms, that an even more pressing need is new legislation to control unfettered expression and communication.

    Minister of Information and Culture, Lai Mohammed, recently announced with much fanfare government’s intention to regulate social media – ostensibly to stamp out fake news and hate speech.

    In fact, so gung-ho was he about the project that he was quoted as saying “no amount of criticism” would stop the administration from pressing ahead with its plans. That suggested that criticism, even if it is reasonable, would be ignored in the drive to deal with the despoilers of social media.

    True to his word, a committee of stakeholders has been swiftly cobbled together and is steaming ahead with the assignment.

    In the legislature, zeal to rid Nigeria of dangerous thought and harmful expression is equally catching on. The Senate on Tuesday introduced a bill to establish an agency to regulate ‘hate speech.’

    The bill titled ‘National Commission for the Prohibition of Hate Speeches (Estb. etc) Bill 2019’ is sponsored by the Deputy Senate Whip, Sabi Abdullahi.

    Abdullahi had first introduced a similar bill that proposed death by hanging and other deterrents for hate speech in May 2018.

    The latest incarnation of the proposed legislation prescribes that offences such as harassment on the grounds of ethnicity or racial contempt, would attract a five-year jail term or a fine of not less than N10 million or both.

    No one should downplay the gravity of fake news, ethnic slurs and comments that seek to denigrate and humiliate fellow humans on basis of their race, ethnicity or faith.

    From the old Nazi Germany, to what used to be Yugoslavia and apartheid South Africa, wars have been fought and nations torn apart because of these same issues. Indeed, the scars left behind by those conflicts are yet to heal in some of these countries.

    Again, we have seen how the spectre of fake news played a key role in the rise of President Donald Trump in the US. Today, what was treated as joke a few years ago has become an industry that has produced a gigantic headache for social media giants like Facebook, Twitter and so on, whose platforms are used to spread false information.

    The great danger with social media is spontaneity. People can react violently to a false post and lives would have been lost long before proper fact-checking can neutralise the fake news item.

    We have also seen that extreme terror groups like ISIS and Boko Haram have become quite adept in using social media and have manipulated it over the years to project messages that seduce the many to their cause.

    So whatever the government is planning is not strange. Countries as far afield as the United States, Britain, Germany, Singapore, New Zealand and Russia have introduced some form of legislation that seeks to check hate speech and abuse of social media.

    Where specific legislation has been made they have been of two types – those designed to protect public order and those for checking the dehumanisation of people on the basis of race or ethnicity. More severe sanctions are often deployed for those activities or utterances that can lead to a breakdown of order.

    What should worry us is the mindset driving the latest actions, the necessity of the new regulations, capacity for enforcement and potential for abusing a bad law.

    As if our long list of failed parastatals isn’t enough embarrassment, a senator is proposing a new agency for the near-impossible task of calibrating acceptable public utterance.

    We should be disturbed that all the initiatives, whether from the executive or legislature, are tilted towards punishment rather than prevention.

    We have a plethora of laws on our statute books for dealing with false information, libel, or instigation of violence or hatred on basis of ethnicity.

    Today, people are being tried for ‘cyberstalking’ and ‘terrorism.’ A journalist and activist ‘Agba Jalingo’ is even facing charges of ‘treasonable felony’ in Cross River State for something he published! So there remains considerable elasticity in our laws to deal with these new offences – no matter how dangerous or annoying they may be.

    In the hands of a smallminded political leader, some of these proposed measures would be dynamite that blows common freedoms to smithereens.

    It is easy to define fake news, but not so hate speech. A thin-skinned egotist would consider trenchant criticism sufficient ground to prosecute somebody.

    I see such elasticity in Senator Abdullahi’s bill. In his original legislation he prescribed the death penalty for hate speech. That proceeds from the notion of capital punishment as a cure-all for crimes. But we have seen that it hasn’t deterred people from committing murder or armed robbery.

    Such extreme punishments are an overkill for an offence that the world is still struggling to properly define.

    The other day the Chief of Army Staff, Lt. Gen. Tukur Buratai, in not too subtle manner reminded the media that they may be in violation of the ‘Terrorism Prevention Act 2011’ for referring to some terror groups by their recognised names!

    He argued that addressing Boko Haram insurgents with “glorifying” titles like ISWAP or JAS gives them “undue publicity.” How?

    “Referring to such gang of criminals, bandits, insurgents such as Boko Haram Terrorists Group, JAS or ISWAP in Nigeria could amount to supporting or encouraging terrorism,” he said.

    “Unfortunately, many Nigerians are not aware that giving prominence to the criminal activities of the terrorists group through sensational headlines and fake news in both electronic and print media could also amount to tacit support to terrorism which violates the Terrorism Prevention Act 2011.”

    In other words a journalist who does his job by reporting a Boko Haram attack could find himself in hot water for giving terrorists “undue publicity” – even backing their cause!

    We are drifting into uncharted territory when soldiers become the ones who determine the news that is fit to be published or what is ‘sensational.’

    That is why for all the good that they hope to achieve, our would-be social media regulators and hate speech exterminators, need to make haste slowly so that their zeal doesn’t damage free expression in our society.

  • Power and the Vice Presidency

    Festus Eriye

     

    IN the aftermath of the annulment of the June 12, 1993 election results, then President Ibrahim Babangida famously declared that he and his junta were ‘not only in office but in power.’

    He was responding to questions about what he intended to do about the large protests in parts of the country against the poll result cancellation.

    His arrogant comments which were meant to send a chilling message of caution to the protesters, aptly captures the reality of life for some in the corridors of power. You may occupy a seemingly powerful office, but in reality exercise only limited power.

    For Vice President Yemi Osinbajo, his place in the Aso Rock power equation was back as a talking point this week.

    Controversy was reignited by President Muhammadu Buhari signing the amended Deep Offshore Act in London whilst still on his two-week private visit.

    Pointedly, the bill was ferried him to him in Britain for assent by his Chief of Staff, Abba Kyari – a clear reminder of the direction from which power still flows, notwithstanding the fact that the president is out of the country for all of three weeks.

    In his absence Osinbajo has already presided over the Federal Executive Council (FEC) meeting – a duty Buhari would most probably have handled himself had he been on the ground.

    For some, the symbolism in Kyari taking the bill to London for signature is another sign that the Vice President is increasingly marginalised.

    Others are interpreting it to mean Buhari ‘taking back control’ of his presidency and clutching jealously to its powers.

    Several weeks ago the issue was the transfer of certain social intervention programmes hitherto overseen by the Vice President’s office to the newly-established Ministry of Humanitarian Affairs.

    Although Buhari in his Independence Day address explained that his action was informed by the need to institutionalise the programmes, conspiracy theorists were not convinced.

    Their suspicions are understandable given that the changes were swiftly followed by an instruction to Osinbajo to always seek presidential approval concerning contracts in the agencies under his supervision. The VP’s office reacted that he had always followed due process.

    His actions thereafter helped to quell the rumours of unrest in high places. Instead of sulking he would at every opportunity reaffirm his unflinching loyalty to his boss. If there were problems, he ascribed them to the machinations of ‘fifth columnists.’

    The Vice Presidency is number two in the nation’s power hierarchy. It is a strategic office – powerful largely because its occupant becomes president if the incumbent dies or is impeached. The spare tyre metaphor is widely used to describe it.  We saw that play out in the case of Goodluck Jonathan stepping into the shoes of Umaru Yar’Adua.

    Aside this advantage of positioning, the Vice Presidency under our constitution can also be very limited in influence as its occupant is only as powerful as the incumbent president wants him to be. Buhari or any other president isn’t obliged to empower his deputy beyond what the constitution allocates to him.

    The constitution puts him over certain organs of state like the National Economic Council (NEC), but that doesn’t automatically translate to being head of the economic management team. A president may choose, as Buhari did recently, to seek counsel from elsewhere.

    As Vice President, Jonathan wasn’t very powerful or influential. In fact, legend has it that he was largely a passenger – sidelined in the scheme of things whilst in that role. Some governors, even from his South-south zone, related with him from the sense of his limited clout within the Yar’Adua administration. They would later pay a price for not treating him with sufficient respect as VP.

    In the Fourth Republic, Olusegun Obasanjo’s deputy, Atiku Abubakar and Osinbajo have been the most powerful Vice Presidents – especially in their initial terms.

    In Atiku’s case the humiliation he dished out to Obasanjo’s in his bid to get a second term had a telling effect on their relationship later on. This largely informed the former president’s concerted campaign to neutralize his erstwhile second-in-command.

    While there hasn’t been the same sort of falling out between Buhari and Osinbajo, it is hard not to see parallels in reduced clout. Even in the sharing of appointments to his home state of Ogun, former Governor Ibikunle Amosun’s candidates have had a field day to the detriment of the most senior political office holder from the state.

    But is history repeating itself? Are the VP’s political fortunes on the wane because some of those who have been hurt by his actions as Acting President are ganging up on him? We need weightier evidence before jumping to conclusions.

    If there is no conspiracy as such, then did Buhari do something illegal by not transferring power to the VP whilst away for three weeks? What does the constitution require of him?

    In September this year, Buhari in a reply to a suit querying why he didn’t hand over to Osinbajo when he embarked on a 9-day ‘private visit’ to Britain in April, argued that the constitution only required him to do so if his vacation exceeded 21 days.

    The Presidency has also sought to defend the signing of the bill in London on grounds that Buhari can exercise his powers as president from any location on earth.

    The same argument was made by former Attorney-General and Minister of Justice, Michael Aondoakaa, when Yar’Adua suddenly disappeared and was rumoured to be in Saudi Arabia. When people asked who would sign the budget if passed, he retorted that it would be taken to him for signature as he could act as president from wherever he chose.

    But even if Buhari has followed the constitution scrupulously, the optics don’t look right. The last time he was in the UK on medical leave, he sent back aides who had brought papers for his signature – telling them to go to the man who was in-charge. Perhaps, today Osinbajo isn’t Acting President as he was then.

    Or, maybe the amended Deep Offshore Bill was time-bound and needed to be signed in a hurry, and only by the president, to meet some National Assembly requirement.

    In the absence of clearer insight there is plenty of room for speculation as the intriguing ahead of 2023 kicks in.

    Buhari and his advisers should also understand that legalese is not always adequate to explain away awkward moves in a political environment.

  • What will APC do about Kogi’s dodgy impeachment?

    Festus Eriye

     

    THE ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) has been handed an unnecessary political and moral dilemma due to the unforced error of Kogi State Governor, Yahaya Bello and the House of Assembly, crudely forcing out erstwhile Deputy Governor, Simon Achuba.

    Against the backdrop that in a little under four weeks it goes into a tough gubernatorial contest, it defies logic that they would manufacture a needless controversy over an issue that has been simmering harmlessly forever.

    Achuba who had been neutralized politically by Bello, would have disappeared into the sunset as the first term ebbed away. So what was the mad rush to oust him? In what way was his humiliation going to be a plus at the November 16 polls?

    Now Bello has handed the opposition a negative talking point that they can bang on about until voting day.

    APC’s national leadership must be squirming in embarrassment over the morality and legality of what has been done in Lokoja. This is a party that sold itself as the platform of ‘change.’ It was going to do things differently from the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) which it has consistently defined as the authors and finishers of impunity.

    But even in the annals of dodgy impeachments, what the Kogi State House of Assembly has pulled off stands out.

    We all howled when in October 2006, former President Olusegun Obasanjo’s administration superintended the impeachment of then Governor Joshua Dariye by just eight members of the 24-man Plateau State House of Assembly.

    Earlier in January that same year, the PDP regime executed a similar stunt in Oyo State, when then Governor Rasheed Ladoja found himself out on his ears after a minority of the state’s legislature ‘impeached’ him. The brazen illegality was quickly enforced by the police under orders from Abuja.

    Ladoja troubles began after he boldly advised Obasanjo to perish the thought of seeking a third term in office.

    The courts would later upturn the so-called impeachments, to the shame of the former president and his PDP government. But the example they set has been copied a couple of times since by politicians who want to achieve a certain end.

    In Edo State, APC National Chairman, Adams Oshiomhole, finds himself locked in a political arm-wrestling match with Governor Godwin Obaseki. The most recent expression of the conflict was when nine members of the 24-man state legislature gathered together at night to elect a new Speaker.

    The bone of contention remains the legality of the governor’s undated proclamation letter which also didn’t specify a time. The pro-Oshiomhole group argue that it was clearly designed to outsmart them and allow Obaseki’s choice for Speaker to emerge.

    The APC chairman has not stopped complaining about the ‘illegality’ of the process – even talking about being ashamed of what was playing out in the party in his home state.

    With the party facing a dicey contest in Kogi would Oshiomhole and other APC leaders find the voice to denounce Achuba’s unusual ouster in the same vociferous manner they have condemned events in the Edo legislature?

    Even more surprising is the fact the Chief Judge agreed to provide legitimacy to a questionable process by swearing-in erstwhile Chief of Staff, Edward Onoja, as the new Deputy Governor.

    He may argue that he hasn’t been asked to adjudicate on the legality of the impeachment, but simply to execute the duty placed on him and other judicial officers to administer the oath of allegiance and the oath of office by Section 185 (2) of the 1999 Constitution.

    But surely as a judicial officer he understands that everything proceeding from a non-existent foundation would collapse under legal scrutiny.

    Section 188 (8) and (9) of the constitution clearly states that the impeachment process dies in its tracks if the panel raised by the Chief Judge doesn’t find against the accused.

    So on what basis did the assembly proceed beyond a desperate need to please the governor who wanted his deputy removed by all means?

    I am sure the Kogi legislators understand the import of Section 188 and its likely implication for their action. But they still went ahead and broke the law. In this case the desire to please one man became more compelling than fidelity to the constitution they swore to protect and uphold.

    It has often been said that impeachment is largely a political process, although the procedure for bringing it to pass is clearly spelt out and must be followed scrupulously if it is to stand.

    The legislators who lent themselves to do the governor’s bidding would have cynically reckoned that even if the courts void their action, Achuba would have been long since gone. At best he would get his outstanding entitlements to salve his wounds.

    In the past, nothing ever happened to those whom the courts found have violated the constitution. This is because there is no specific legal provision for punishing this very grave offence.

    Obasanjo did it in the case of Dariye and Ladoja and got away with it. He is still walking free, pontificating about democratic best practices!

    Bello may be re-elected and he, too, would be parading himself as a “progressive governor.” All the members of the state assembly complicit in this embarrassing episode would also continue making ‘laws’ for others to obey.

    The Kogi case is one of the clearest illustrations of how some governors transform into tin pot despots who cobble together state assemblies they can put under their thumb.

    If the Achuba impeachment is left to stand, another power-drunk individual would be tempted to try an even greater outrage soon. The initiative, however, lies with the one who has been injured to seek legal remedy. Thereafter, the federal legislative must step in.

    If our democracy is to grow, the National Assembly should amend the relevant sections of the constitution with suitable deterrents to check governors and presidents who think they are bigger than the constitution.

    As for the APC, it must speak against what has happened if it is retain the moral right to call PDP names. It must also find a meaningful way to censure all who participated in the funny ‘impeachment’ as a signal that it doesn’t approve of this constitutional rape.

     

  • Buhari and the broken federal roads

    GIVEN his man of the people image, it is hard to paint President Muhammadu Buhari as disconnected from the masses he governs.

    Time and again, he has proven at the polls that he has an unusual connection with common folk – especially in the northern parts of the country.

    At political rallies or public functions, the mere mention of his name throws people into delirious fits.

    It is certainly not because he doles out money to them. If anything, he never ceases to remind his followers that he has nothing material to give them. Perhaps his strange charisma lies in his reputation for plain-speaking.

    A straight-shooter certainly is a breath of fresh air in an environment where politicians are better known for bending the truth and speaking from both sides of the mouth.

    But sometimes, the line that separates bluntness from insensitivity is wafer-thin. Some comments of the president make him appear insensitive and uncaring concerning the day-to-day plight of the average Nigerian. They create the impression of distance from his people’s reality.

    The presidency is an artificial environment that separates its occupants from truth. Those who are closest to power often find it extremely difficult to speak truth to power, thinking instead that a fawning servility is the best way to affirm loyalty to their principal.

    Even the most well-meaning of leaders have been negatively affected by prolonged stay in such an environment. Could the president be coming down with a dose of ‘Aso Rocktivitis?’

    One recent comment of Buhari that makes you wonder if he’s drifting out of touch concerns what to do about the thousands of failed federal roads across the country.

    They are to be found in major cities and are the arteries that connect the states. While some like the Lagos-Ibadan and Lagos-Abeokuta expressways have started receiving attention, lots more are abandoned in their sorry state with little hope of rehabilitation in the horizon.

    Works and Housing Minister, Babatunde Fashola, at a recent interaction with a House of Representatives Ad-Hoc Committee on Abandoned Federal Government Projects, predictably faced questions about the condition of roads.

    He gave an answer that was partly revealing but ultimately depressing. The summary was that weighed down by a mountain of debts and claims by state governors, Buhari had virtually drawn a line in the sand.

    “Tell them not to fix my roads again if they’re going to claim compensation. If you want to fix it and not ask for compensation, send me what you want to do. But if you want compensation, go and mind your business while I mind my business. This is because I have inherited enough debts,” he quoted the president as saying.

    He reiterated this position at another National Assembly encounter related to defence of the allocation to his ministry in the 2020 budget.

    To his credit, Buhari did pay off the claims for refunds that he met when he assumed office. Fashola confirmed that out of a demand for N1 trillion, the Bureau of Public Procurement (BPP) certified only N454 billion – the bulk of which has been paid to the claimants.

    However, the way forward is now more complex with the president insisting he wouldn’t take on additional debt even when the states are doing him a favour.

    These last few weeks in Lagos, millions of commuters have had a torrid time trapped for hours in monster traffic jams largely caused by cavernous potholes. The hapless passenger who has to suffer this for days going and coming from work doesn’t know whether the road he’s grounded on is federal or state-owned.

    They can’t relate to the game-playing that separates political assets and responsibilities but doesn’t address their pain. Abuja is thousands of kilometers away, but there is a governor in the theatre of their suffering – a handy target for venting their frustrations.

    In better times, one or two governors who presided over states with healthy finances, took the position that they would fix the roads – even if the federal government refuses to pay back. Their argument was that they had to act because their people were the ones using the roads.

    Unfortunately, the times are hard and many states are in dire straits. Not too many can afford to be that generous anymore – not even the so-called buoyant ones – given the pressure on their finances by competing needs.

    It is certainly not fair to ask a governor who used state resources to deal with a federal problem in his territory not to ask for a refund.

    The president reportedly said if you are thinking of asking for your money back, just leave ‘my roads’ alone. That position suggests that the federal government has the capacity to carry the burden. We know it doesn’t.

    Nigeria doesn’t have enough right now to fund its institutions and fix critical infrastructure. Allocation for the Works and Housing ministry in the 2020 budget is a trifling N262 billion. This, as Fashola has pointed out, cannot even clear the debts on ground, not to talk of initiating new projects.

    Lack of funds is partly why federal roads across the country are the way they are. Out of desperation states are forced to step in because people cannot move and businesses are suffering. For as long as this persists, the economy will suffer – and that is elementary.

    If states are offering to help, it is wrongheaded to discourage or frustrate them.

    If the new policy is truly just about the debt burden then there’s a way around it. It is something that can be addressed gradually as the country’s finances improve. After all, a lot of the refunds made by Buhari were racked up under the Goodluck Jonathan administration.

    Like most things Nigerian, there is the fear the some put up bogus claims in a bid to rip off the government. But this can be easily addressed by making the process so rigorous that it deflates any padding.

    Even with the creative solutions that this government has come up with like the Sukuk bonds, it still doesn’t have enough to keep the roads in the shape that allows people and goods to move around seamlessly.

    The president needs all the help he can get; he needs all the bright ideas people can think up to address the road decay. What he doesn’t need is wrongheaded posturing that only makes life worse for the people whose cause he claims to champion.

     

  • Nigeria’s Population: The bomb that exploded unnoticed

    Festus Eriye

     

    There was a time when Nigeria’s booming population could have been referred to as a ticking time bomb. The bomb has since exploded but we didn’t understand what happened because it crept up on us. Now, we must confront the diverse consequences of our carefree procreation.

    A huge population can be an asset if a country has sound economic foundations that make for continuing prosperity. In this case the large numbers become a powerhouse market.

    But an exploding and impoverished population is a nightmare that would soon lead to an implosion because it cannot sustain its hordes.

    On Monday, at the 25th Nigerian Economic Summit (NES) held in Abuja, the Emir of Kano, Muhammadu Sanusi II, described our population as a liability to the country. He is absolutely correct.

    As shameful as it is, we don’t have credible figures because censuses over the years became tools for jockeying for ethnic and political advantage.

    So we must rely on projections. UN estimates put our population as of 2019 at 200.96 million – making us the 7th most populous nation on earth.

    At independence in 1960 we were a country of just 45.2 million people. The National Bureau of Statistics put our population as high as 166.2 million as of 2012. So in the fifty-two years in between our numbers ballooned by 268%.

    The scary part going by these projections is that by 2050, this nation could have 390 million residents! Bear in mind that while we are multiplying, the entire landmass remains static at approximately 923,768 square kilometres. A significant chunk of this space is uninhabitable – given climate change and the relentless encroachment of the Sahara Desert.

    We are already noticing the impact as dislocated people seeking succour down south, compete for land and limited resources with the locals.

    Sanusi, in his intervention at the NES event, attributed the spate of kidnapping, armed robbery, insurgency, farmer-herder conflict to the rate of population growth.

    He said: “Nigeria’s population is currently a liability because the root cause of problems such as kidnapping, armed robbery, Boko Haram, drug addiction are all tied to the population that we have and the question is how do you turn that into a productive one.”

    My first suggestion is we need a national consensus that our population growth rate has become an emergency that has to be addressed without delay. You don’t get that sense of urgency listening to our leaders – whether in the National Assembly or Presidency – lay out their policy priorities.

    It’s nice to know that one or two grand bridges or kilometres of roads are being built. But it doesn’t matter how many jobs are created or how many hospitals and houses are constructed, they would never be enough if we don’t rein in our present growth rate.

    As pressure on available infrastructure and limited opportunities mount, desperation also increases. Those who are left behind sooner or later venture into crime. The more daring are fleeing to the four corners of the globe to build a life for themselves.

    Unfortunately, most nations are struggling to sustain their own population and the surging numbers of foreigners heading their way from countries like Nigeria, is putting their systems under considerable strain. The recent anti-immigrant sentiment that we’ve seen in countries like the US, Italy, South Africa and elsewhere is down to this.

    We are partly where we are today because in the boom years of the 70s, our leaders were not visionary enough to foresee the problem that lay ahead. They were satisfied with basking in accolades about being the ‘Giant of Africa.’ Roads and other facilities were built without a sense that a decade or two down the line they wouldn’t be enough to cater for a larger population.

    It wouldn’t be totally correct to say that the governments of the 80s and 90s didn’t recognise that there was trouble ahead. The question is what did they do about it? Were they sufficiently disturbed to take action?

    The military regime of former President Ibrahim Babangida did take a half-hearted stab at the problem with a campaign that sought to limit Nigerians to families of four. Designed to get people to enlist to the idea by persuasion, it came to nothing.

    The same challenges that existed back then are alive and well today. Any attempt to seriously control growth would immediately face the formidable obstacles of cultural practices and religious beliefs.

    But we are beginning to see families limit the number of children they have in the face of the astronomical cost of raising them. Economics is fast becoming a factor in the matter – but not enough.

    We still have too many among our elite who think that because they have the means, they must sire enough children to populate a village. There are also individuals blessed with beautiful girls, but keep procreating in search of a supposedly ‘superior’ male child.

    On the flip side is the beggar who has three or four wives, when the only means of sustenance is the goodwill of strangers who may drop a dime in his plate. The upshot is we are daily building a pool of people who ultimately become a menace to society.

    That Nigeria has to develop an aggressive new population control policy has become imperative.

    The jury is still out as to whether China’s one-child policy was a good idea. Its implementation may have been harsh and extreme, but it prevented 400 million births and threw open employment opportunities for millions across the country.

    The policy has since been relaxed and couples may now have up to two children. We don’t have to copy their example wholesale, but we can adopt the good things they did.

    We may choose to offer new families the choice of limiting their size to two or three children and incentivise the policy. Families can get scholarships, free healthcare and tax relief for buying into the programme.

    It may take a while to seep through to the grassroots, but a committed government that sees the danger that is already upon us, would try anything.

    But first we must organise a credible national census that doesn’t make provision for questions about ethnicity and faith, instead it focuses on settling the critical issue of how many we truly are.

  • Talking points from Buhari’s Independence address

    ANNIVERSARIES like the Independence Day celebration usually afford Nigerian leaders the opportunity to deliver an assessment of the ‘state of the nation’ under their watch.

    Yesterday, President Muhammadu Buhari got the fifth opportunity to tell Nigerians we are better off today than we were in 2015. Whether he succeeded in that endeavour is a moot point.

    He did try his level best to showcase what his administration is doing concerning the key areas of security, economy and corruption on which he secured a mandate in the last two election cycles.

    Only the uncharitable would say his government has done ‘nothing’ in the over four years of his incumbency. The issue is whether what is being thrown at Nigeria’s problems is being delivered in enough doses to make a difference.

    Some critics would even argue that, in certain instances, because wrong treatment is being applied, we are worse off economically than we were a couple of years ago.

    We are all experts at retailing what’s wrong with the country. So determined not to be part of the October 1 bore fest of regurgitating our failings, I read the speech looking for positives.

    And you would find a few – whether in the building up of a healthier foreign reserve, investment in some big ticket infrastructure projects, in attempts to diversify the economy, or even in the administration’s imperfect war against corruption.

    That said, the speech was a bit disappointing because beyond the ritual chest-thumping expected of every government in power, its rhetoric did little to inspire people to hope for a better day. Indeed, the message could have been the updated version of the ones read in the last two years.

    In the preamble, the president reminds us of his charge four years ago, that we may have voted for ‘change’ but it isn’t going to appear like a conjurer’s trick.

    He said: “We must change our lawless habits, our attitude to public office and public trust… simply put, to bring about change, we must change ourselves by being law-abiding citizens.”

    Accepted that even a government of angels would be challenged when confronted by a people uniquely gifted in circumventing every rule made by man.

    Still it is the burden of leadership to corral the most recalcitrant of followers and point them in the direction you want them to go. It goes beyond just seeing the fault of those you lead.

    We certainly have an attitude problem in the areas the president spoke of. But it would be more helpful if rather than the name-calling and finger-pointing, the president came up with a specific national reorientation programme that helps to reshape the people’s mindset.

    This is especially urgent because the younger demographic in this country are already headed in a direction that should alarm anyone concerned about the future.

    Almost on a daily basis the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) parades scores of young men in their 20s and 30s who have been arrested for internet fraud and other forms of cybercrime.

    Many have been driven into this activity by unemployment and lack of opportunities. Others have simply made wrong moral choices. In addition to whatever families, religious organisations and local communities are doing, the government should weigh in with its own solutions. The president didn’t really speak to this.

    Interesting, the accomplishments of the youths in the area of the arts and entertainment represent one of the bright spots for Nigeria in the last 10 to 15 years. Today, our pop singers like Davido, Burna Boy, Wizkid and others are world beaters who are competing against the best in America and Europe.

    They have achieved what they have with little or no government support. Perhaps the president, being an honest man, wisely chose not to ascribe their strides to any special thing his administration has done.

    But the government can build on what has been achieved through policy intervention to further boost the entertainment industry as a means of generating jobs. The same can be done in the area of sports which is a major employer of young people globally. Buhari’s speech never glanced in this direction.

    Equally disturbing is the fact that while acknowledging we have a crisis with our exploding population, he didn’t suggest anything radical was being done about it – beyond the perfunctory comment about creating jobs.

    He did, however, bemoan the abuses of social media to further hate and division talking, again, about individual rights needing to take a back seat to national security and interest.

    His remarks are interesting against the backdrop of the ongoing trial of Sahara Reporters publisher, Omoyele Sowore, the activities of pro-Biafra secessionists and opposition activists.

    Perhaps, the trial would throw up earthshaking evidence of the capabilities of a rabblerousing activist to topple an entrenched government. Still, one cannot help but view the case as further evidence of the lack of progress made in furthering civil liberties in the last few years.

    I have had the privilege of listening to heads of some security agencies go to the extent of labelling critical comments made against the incumbent president in the heat of the last election season as acts against national security.

    I would suggest that we face a greater security threat from the activities of Boko Haram/ISWAP fighters, kidnappers, compromised security agencies at our borders – even from the ailing economy – than from publicity-seeking agitators.

    I made this point in my piece titled ‘The trouble with the Buhari Doctrine’ written after the president controversially said last year that there were instances where individual rights must come second to the national interest. It bears repeating here:

    “Although Buhari has run to a certain Supreme Court ruling for cover, the trouble with the newly-espoused doctrine is that national interest is such a nebulous concept which is open to diverse interpretations, misinterpretations and manipulation by malevolent forces.

    “What is in the national interest of a country is often down to what the individuals who run it think it is. There are hardly ever any objective parameters for defining it.

    ‘National interest’ is what regimes hide under to clamp dissidents in detention. But the moment a more liberal administration takes over, one of its first acts is often the release of detainees – in the ‘national interest’ – in order to score points locally and internationally and shore up support.”

    Just a few points of cavil. Hopefully, someone out there would take notice and make adjustments.

  • 2023 can wait!

    I was at a forum during the week where 20 years of uninterrupted democracy in Nigeria was reviewed. Most people came expecting it to be all gloom and doom: they were not disappointed.

    Not even the deliberate efforts of some speakers to shine light on positives from the last two decades, lightened the mood significantly.

    One speaker said he had given up on discussing Nigeria because public discourse had degenerated to the extent where what you had to say is irrelevant, because you are automatically profiled on the basis of ethnicity and faith.

    A middle-aged lady spoke about an all-night conversation she had with her brother 20 years ago. The question they wrestled with was whether this nation could be salvaged. Her brother decided it was impossible and emigrated to the United States.

    Ever the sunny optimist, she stayed back believing she and like-minds could join hands to turn things around. The woman who spoke that morning had become disillusioned with what the country had become.

    Unfortunately, the people and politicians appear to live in a parallel universe. Those in government are quick to dredge up stats that suggest a massive improvement in our collective lot. For the average man, they might as well be speaking Greek.

    Barely four months after governments at federal and state levels were inaugurated for fresh terms, and a clear three years plus to the next polls, trending discussion isn’t about decaying infrastructure or the economy, but about scheming for the 2023 presidential contest.

    This is a country where politicking never stops and governing hardly ever gets done. Perhaps, I exaggerate, but not much.

    The convention in most places is that once an election is done, the new administration settles down to govern. In countries with fixed four or five year election cycles, serious politicking doesn’t get going until 18 months or two years to the next round of voting.

    That is not to suggest that ambitious politicians would not be quietly working to actualise their dreams.

    But they recognise that an election gives a political party the mandate to deliver on its promises. At least 75% of the tenure of the administration would be dedicated to making the slate they sold to the people reality.

    The current feverish discussion of the 2023 prospects of certain individuals and regions, simply confirm what a growing number of our people are have come to believe; that their voices don’t matter in a supposedly democratic setting.

    Politicians and the shadowy figures that hover around the powerful, are only focused on who next gets to sit on the driving seat. The question, however, is to what end, because once the 2023 election is done, the buzz immediately shifts to who wants to be what in 2027.

    In the last couple of weeks this pattern of discussion became accentuated after Kaduna State Governor, Nasir El-Rufai, suggested that at some point in our political journey we might need to discard zoning as our preferred method for power sharing.

    Although he didn’t say this should begin with the next polls, the comments played into the narrative that a powerful tendency in the North was bent on retaining power in the region after President Muhammadu Buhari’s full two-term run.

    Last week, the debate became even more animated against the backdrop of two government actions that appeared to significantly whittle down Vice President Yemi Osinbajo’s clout within the administration.

    No matter how it is dressed, a publicised presidential memo asking the VP to always seek Buhari’s approval for contracts and other matters concerning agencies under his office, amounted to some sort of rebuke – no matter how gentle. It suggested that, in the past, he may not always have done so.

    Osinbajo’s comeback that he had always followed the law in running the agencies, showed that he recognised the subtle censure.

    Coming almost in the same 24-hour cycle when the Economic Management Team he used to head was suddenly dissolved and a new advisory council that reports to the president empanelled, it was grist to the mill of conspiracy theorists.

    Many commentators have since concluded that the one-two punch handed the VP, was a brutal tackle to take him down a peg in the 2023 stakes.

    I am not saying it is, neither am I saying it isn’t. But this relentless intriguing and speculation is a distraction from the compelling governance issues that confront this country.

    The level of misery and poverty is mindboggling. In many cities, the major sources of employment today aren’t manufacturing or some IT start-up, but motorcycle and tricycle taxis that are multiplying like germ culture.

    While they provide short term transportation relief, they are no substitute for proper mass transit. They contribute to the general air of chaos because many governments are overwhelmed by their rapid growth rate and lack the capacity to regulate them. Rather than being a sign of empowerment, they have become emblems of decline and poverty.

    Nigeria’s problems are urgent and can’t wait till tomorrow. They can’t wait for our ‘distinguished’ National Assembly members to return from their leisurely holidays. Neither can they abide much longer the president’s famed deliberate style.

    That’s why it is obscene at this point in our history, to be inflaming discussions about 2023 when the promises of 2015 and 2019 haven’t been made good.

    Nigerians truly need for their leaders to, for a change, deliver some genuine ‘dividends of democracy’. In recent times we have been sold the lie that bridges and roads built represent some kind of return for voters.

    But as some have pointed out, we don’t need elected officials to build roads. Some of Nigeria’s most enduring public infrastructure were built by military dictators like Yakubu Gowon, Olusegun Obasanjo, Ibrahim Babangida, Muhammadu Buhari, Sani Abacha and others.

    We need to demand much more from those we invested our time to vote for. In addition to building roads, we should see improved healthcare, greater freedom of expression and association, more participation in the process, respect for the rule of law and better security across the land.

    If the media and politicians persist in enabling this cynical system where politicking never takes a break, the result would be the sort of disillusionment that has seen voter turnout drop by a consistent 10% in the succeeding elections of 2011, 2015 and 2019.

  • The ugly Nigerian

    Every country can count among its citizens – the good, the bad and the ugly. Usually those in the last two categories are a minority. Nigerian Correctional Service figures from 2015 show that there were just over 56,000 prison inmates in the country.

    Even if we make a generous provision of one million persons for those who ought to join them behind bars, the bad eggs amongst us would still be a minute fraction of our over 150 million people. On second thought, one million might just be a terribly conservative estimate!

    Despite being a tiny sample of the populace, the activities of the ‘ugly Nigerian’ now define us across the globe. This is because boorish behaviour and criminality generate more headlines than civility and honesty.

    In most places you travel to in Africa, the stereotype of the loud Nigerian hangs around us like bad body odour. We are perceived as aggressive, dishonest, criminally-inclined, lacking in humility and attention-seeking show offs.

    Many of these adjectives don’t describe me, just as I am sure they don’t apply to the vast majority of our people. Unfortunately, there is enough in those words that speaks of what we are becoming as a nation.

    The recent episode of xenophobia – or more pointedly Afrophobia – in South Africa has received deserved condemnation. Still, it provides a window of self-examination for us.

    If Nigerians are being set upon, we should ask ourselves why we are so hated. Whether in South Africa, Kenya or Ghana, we are not exactly flavour of the month.

    I found part of the answer in a comment section of a story about how Nigerian-owned businesses had been burnt in parts of Johannesburg. The commentator, obviously a Kenyan, was far from sympathetic. He talked about how we are everywhere in Nairobi, selling drugs and messing things up.

    As for our numbers which we often proudly cite as making us the ‘giant of Africa’, that, he felt, was part of the problem. We are too many and should try birth control!

    Truth be told, the gradual collapse of our national economy over the last two decades, has meant that there are not enough opportunities for our teeming millions.

    For many of our young people, living in this country is a fate worse than death. That is why despite the well-advertised perils of travelling through the Sahara Desert and the Mediterranean to reach Europe, they are willing to take the risk.

    In fact, many who were repatriated after horrible experiences in Libya, started talking about returning the moment their plane touched down in Lagos. They extolled the virtues of their hosts while blaming their travails on the excesses of their countrymen.

    The very pressures that have sent hundreds of thousands of our citizens fleeing to the four corners of the world, are also prevalent in places like South Africa.

    There is massive unemployment and poverty among the black population. Little wonder that the poor are venting their frustration on the equally black and foreign poor, who have come to compete with them for the crumbs their country offers.

    It is virtually impossible to stop people from seeking a better life elsewhere. But it is a privilege when any country opens its doors to a foreigner. The problem is we used to be known for our oil exports, today we’re becoming infamous for exporting criminals. No country would accept that.

    Nigeria’s Ambassador to Burkina Faso, Ramatu Ahmed, just revealed that over 10,000 underage girls from this country had been forced into prostitution in the country by traffickers who have promised to get them to Europe.

    Very reliable government sources say there are over 10,000 Nigerians currently in South African prisons. A couple of weeks ago, the FBI arrested 77 Nigerians accused of participating in a variety of fraud and money laundering schemes. I am trying to recall the last time I read of over 70 citizens of one nation being held – in one fell swoop – for criminal activities in another country.

    I am not sure how much of the online crime market we control, but our people have cornered the romance scam – so much so that in many places it is known as the ‘Nigerian love scam.’

    In Italy, Nigerian crime gangs have become controllers of the prostitution and human trafficking business in parts of the country. In Sicily, spiritual homeland of the Mafia and other organised crime legends – they are now acknowledged as key players.

    A couple of months ago in nearby Ghana, our people were pointedly being accused of causing a spike in kidnapping cases.

    As unacceptable as crime is, people can live with it when the perpetrators are locals. But when foreigners set up shop as crime bosses, all hell is let loose. Imagine for a minute that the Chinese or Ghanaians were the ones running the lucrative kidnapping franchises in Nigeria!

    When we emigrate many don’t shed some of our less attractive national traits. So we export our penchant for lawlessness and vulgar exhibitionism to places whose people are more restrained and we stick out like thumbs.

    Some of the Nigerians arrested by the FBI were filmed at a party spraying dollar bills like confetti. Net even Warren Buffet or Bill Gates does that!

    Nigeria blew her God-given opportunities to build a modern, prosperous nation that could sustain the bulk of its people. A succession of leaders chose to plunder the commonwealth and left a mess that people are fleeing from.

    It is not too late to start rebuilding a country that poor, desperate South Africans and others would think of emigrating to. Part of that requires urgent action on how to handle our exploding population.

    It is a disgrace that we can’t even conduct an acceptable national census without tying ourselves up in ethnic and political knots. We don’t even have a clue how many we are and have to depend on dubious estimates.

    If we cannot grow the economy at a pace that it can cater for the majority, then we have to device means of reining in our reproduction rate.

    The pressure on what resources we have now is becoming unbearable. The consequences of inaction are unpredictable.

  • South Africa’s theatre of hate

    YOU would have expected that the rain of condemnation which trailed the recent wave of anti-foreigner violence in South Africa, would have left the average citizen of that nation drenched and remorseful.

    In Nigeria, Zambia and a few other places, there were reprisals that never attended past xenophobic attacks against nationals of other countries.

    But it doesn’t appear to have been noticed in certain parts of Johannesburg where, early this week, protesters again took to the streets demanding that all foreigners leave their country.

    It never ceases to amaze me how South Africans, who depended on a global movement comprising organisations and countries from different continents to break the yoke of apartheid, suddenly realised that their problems would disappear the day there is no foreigner in their midst.

    Back in the 70s and 80s their freedom fighters went cap in hand soliciting funds from the same Nigerians they now disdain. Many were exiled to the so-called Frontline States of Zimbabwe, Botswana, Zambia, Tanzania and Mozambique – from whose territories African National Congress (ANC) militants launched guerrilla attacks.

    These nations often paid a bloody price because the racist regime then in power in Pretoria would regularly invade to carry out reprisal sorties against targets, using its military might to humiliate the not-so-powerful African countries.

    In less than 30 years, a nation that depended so much on others has succumbed to collective amnesia. The ‘Rainbow Nation’ founded on love and forgiveness is gradually being transformed into a theatre of hate.

    Right from my earliest contacts with South Africans I was struck by how insular they were. Perhaps it comes from being located at the rear end of the continent – surrounded only by the Atlantic and Indian Oceans.

    Back in 2004, I had gone on a work-related trip to Johannesburg. A family friend then invited me on quick visit to Pretoria. I remember him introducing me as his ‘brother’ to a neighbour in the apartment complex where he lived.

    The South African greeted me fairly cordially, but quickly asked when I was returning to Nigeria. He added that it was clear my friend who had been in the country for about two years had no intention of returning home! I assured him my departure was only a matter of days. His satisfaction was evident.

    Just as it is wrong to depict all Nigerians living in that country as drug pushers because of the shenanigans of a few, it would be grossly unfair to write off the entire population as anti-foreigner.

    One day, on that same trip, a colleague who didn’t have the outlook of many of his compatriots, tried to illustrate for me the complex way some of his people relate with the rest of the continent. She said someone going to a destination like Lagos or Accra, would say something like “I’m travelling to Africa” – as though their country wasn’t part of the same continent.

    Even if you purge South Africa of all foreigners, it remains a very violent nation. There are places in Johannesburg where you can be killed over a cell phone. Carjackings are commonplace. Rape and femicide have reached such dire levels that women took to the streets in protest last week and had to be addressed by President Cyril Ramaphosa.

    Unfortunately, past governments have often responded to xenophobic episodes in a very timid way that encouraged criminal elements to think they can kill and maim foreigners and get away scot free. Sadly, these past orgies of violence haven’t created more jobs or made the society more egalitarian.

    Despite the black empowerment programmes of successive administrations, the gulf in economic power between whites and blacks has only widened – and it is not down to malevolent activities of Nigerians, Ethiopians or Tanzanians living in that country.

    With a sense of perspective South Africans would realise that our 30,000 citizens in a sea of their own 50,000,000 people is minuscule. And not all our folks are drug traffickers. Many are professionals, academics, sportsmen and legitimate business people.

    Unfortunately, the woolly thinking that quickly ascribes all that is wrong with their country to the excesses of outsiders, is not limited to the frustrated poor living in cramped city hostels and slums.

    Senior government officials have thrown up their hands in helplessness, or tried to rationalise the attacks on grounds that some foreigners have engaged in criminal activity.

    Defence Minister, Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula, in an interview with eNCA, a local television channel, described her country as an angry nation and insisted that the government couldn’t have prevented the violence.

    “The reality is that we have an angry nation. What’s happening can never be prevented by any government,” she said.

    “People are saying it is xenophobic attacks but it is not the first time, we have had them in the past.

    “We have criminals that have read the situation and are aware that we have challenges right now.

    Before her, Grace Naledi Mandisa Pandor, Minister of International Relations, had said: “I would appreciate them in helping us as well to address the belief our people have and the reality that there are many persons from Nigeria dealing in drugs in our country.”

    These are very damning statements coming from officials operating at the highest levels. They are self-indicting because a government that admits it is incapable of thwarting a barely-concealed conspiracy is acknowledging its incompetence.

    Perhaps, the violence is a diversion that allows people to vent their anger on soft targets and not focus on politicians who, in almost 30 years, have failed to deliver on the promise of a better future which the arrival of black majority rule held out.

    As the victim foreigners contemplate the charred remains of their businesses and properties, they are not the only ones damaged. The South Africa government has invested a fortune trying to promote the country as an excellent tourist destination. But who wants to travel to a place – even if it were heaven on earth – where foreigners are made so unwelcome?

    Even more disappointing is the fact that the mindless violence greatly diminishes the citizens and leaders of a country that produced such a great specimen of humanity as Nelson Mandela.

  • Nigeria’s expensive $9.6b P&ID mess

    Nigeria is in a bind. A court in the United Kingdom last week awarded a fine of $9.6 billion against her in a dispute brought by the Irish firm, Process and Industrial Developments Limited (P&ID), over the botched 2010 Gas Supply and Processing Agreement (GSPA).

    The decision empowers the aggrieved contractor to seize assets of the Federal Government of Nigeria to the tune of the amount awarded anywhere on the planet.

    By some estimates, that sum represents one-fifth of the country foreign reserves.

    Some lawyers have argued that the existence of the State Immunity Act 1978 (the Act) of the United Kingdom, makes the prospect of immediate enforcement of the judgment remote. This is an opinion which would be tested in the courts soon.

    For now, the brutal award hangs over this nation like a poorly-secured sword.

    It has generated the predictable cocktail of outrage, buck-passing and protests. Attorney-General and Minister of Justice, Abubakar Malami, defending himself against allegations lack of diligence in prosecuting the matter, has been regaling us with tales of all he did to avert it. He has even gone a step further by absolving himself of all blame.

    Minister of Information and Culture, Lai Mohammed, never slow to sniff out a conspiracy against the administration, emphasised that government’s concerns were primarily about “the underhanded manner in which the contract was negotiated and signed.”

    He said: “Indications are that the whole process was carried out by some vested interests in the past administration, which apparently colluded with their local and international conspirators to inflict grave economic injury on Nigeria and its people.”

    In a fit of righteous rage, some super patriots marched on the UK High Commission and Irish Embassy in Abuja, brandishing placards denouncing the hefty fine.

    Abuja’s famine of thought never fails to produce the ludicrous. How these sponsored demonstrations would make the $9.6b award go away, boggles the mind. This judgment wasn’t an act of the UK parliament, neither was it a decree by the British sovereign. It was a judgment of the court over which the government has no veto power.

    The protests were clearly acts of frustration that, in a way, underline our limited options.

    Thankfully, on the same day that the noisemakers were at the embassies, Vice President Yemi Osinbajo was presiding over a conclave of lawyers to thrash out a way forward. The outcome appears to have been a decision to duke it out in the courts.

    That is as it should be, given the messy details about the contract that have since emerged. For instance, it has come to light that the deal was signed whilst then President Umaru Yar’Adua was in a coma.

    A lot of noise is made these days about cabals, but in the days when the late president was missing in action, a cabal truly ran the affairs of the country with the result being the sort of mess that has now been created.

    Michael Aondoakaa, who was Attorney-General and Minister of Justice when the contract was signed said he first heard of it when news of the award broke, and it was never approved by the Federal Executive Council (FEC). So on whose authority was the deal initialled, tying Nigeria to all sorts of legal obligations?

    Central Bank Governor, Godwin Emefiele, has also said there was no evidence in the bank’s records showing that the contractor invested $40 million in the botched project.

    No doubt there would be more awkward revelations in the days and weeks ahead. For those who have brought us to this point, there has to be a judgment day too. That informs the evolving blame game.

    But no amount of buck-passing can remove the fact that every administration from Yar’Adua’s to Goodluck Jonathan’s and now Muhammadu Buhari’s regime, have by their acts of omission or commission contributed to the debacle.

    For example, court documents from this case claim that the delay in constituting Buhari’s first cabinet in 2015 negatively impacted the resolution process. Perhaps we forgot that the world doesn’t work by our African time and that some courts operate outside our jurisdiction.

    Government is a continuum. If your predecessor messed things up, it is your responsibility to set them right and carry on. At this point it is immaterial if the crooked deal was cooked up under Yar’Adua. He is long gone. Nigeria is the one left with a massive headache.

    I wouldn’t waste time arguing the merits of the case for either party. That’s a job for the lawyers. As a Nigerian I don’t want to see my country fritter away $9.6b knowing the likely consequences for our limping economy.

    I am more concerned with whether we can learn any lessons from this latest embarrassment. The P&ID case underlines the funny manner in which this country is governed. It is the latest one that highlights our culture of playing fast and loose with the rules – especially as they concern government contracts.

    A contract – especially international ones – is binding and should be respected. Fix your system so it doesn’t throw up dodgy contracts. When government officials, deceived by the sense of their own power, arbitrarily repudiate agreements that have been legally endorsed, there’s always a price to pay. Unfortunately, the price is usually paid from the public treasury and not the individual officer’s purse.

    In the 80s, then Lagos State Governor Lateef Jakande conceived of a metroline for the city. When the military junta headed by the then General Buhari seized power in 1983, it was cancelled at the resulting cost of $78 million to the taxpayer. Such horrendous waste!

    There are several other cases with similar background that are ongoing and may one day blow up in our collective faces. While the government carries out it probes to punish those responsible, it should urgently investigate these ticking time bombs and defuse them while there’s still time.

    The tired rituals of grand reaction after the disaster has occurred are no longer entertaining.