The Nation Newspaper

Category: Hardball

  • Buhari: Jonathan praises the Lord!

    President Goodluck Jonathan praises the Lord — and his abiding good luck — that the assassination attempt on Maj.-Gen. Muhammadu Buhari, former military head of state and All Progressives Congress (APC) chieftain, did not succeed.

    He also praised Allah — and also his abiding good luck — that the second bomb attack on Sheikh Dahiru Bauchi, the Islamic cleric targeted during the second bomb attack in Kaduna, did not also die.

    But what of Bauchi’s luckless followers and innocent Nigerians that perished in the dastardly attack?  Well, Presido would thank God for small mercies — it could have been worse, obviously!

    And what would the Commander-in-Chief have said on the Zaria bloodbath?

    There, according to news reports, Nigerian Shi’ite leader, Sheikh Ibrahim El-Zakzaki, lost no fewer  than three sons (two allegedly shot dead in cold blood in army detention) and another receiving treatment for gunshot wounds, besides nine others reportedly killed — not by the notorious Boko Haram, but by Nigerian Army troops on patrol?  That, thank Allah, the tally was not more than that?

    And, from the doomed Zakzaki sons, some frightful déjà vu: do you not recall that Boko Haram morphed from the ragtag militants on Okada to the fearsome terror machine of today, after rogue policemen killed, in cold blood and in police detention, its leader, Mohammed Yusuf, after soldiers had handed him over to the police?

    It is annoyingly predictable.  Each time Nigerians under his charge are mown down by malevolent forces either in terror cells or criminals in Nigerian security forces uniform, this president wrings his hands like a child lost on a vast island; and laments to his heart’s content.

    In other words, the commander-in-chief, whom God has given the rare privilege to chiefly command the security forces, to secure luckless Nigerians, has condemned himself to condemning felons his armada of forces should have checkmated before wreaking any havoc, just like another helpless observer, as millions of Nigerians indeed are, in this giant and bloody play of fatal incompetence.

    Jonathan thanks God Buhari and Bauchi didn’t fall to the assassins’ bombs. He serenaded Nigerians with what they already knew: that Nigerians would have been on fire if the pair — or even one of them — had fallen.  Seriously?  Is that what a president and commander-in-chief is made of?

    But as Presido gives thanks to God — and indeed, He is always worthy of thanks — would Allah also be thanking him for grand failure to utilise the resources, with which He has blessed our country in the armed forces, but which the C-in-C has always fallen short to put to use, to protect our people?

    But perhaps we should abandon the republican constitution and embrace a theocracy!  That way, the Jonathan presidential chambers — sorry, theocratic conclave — would have little to do with the armed forces and their gruff temper.

    Rather, he would deal more with prayer warriors, hustling God to do for them what He had already given them power to do, and spewing forth a lot of thanksgiving to warm their way into the divine heart of the Almighty!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • And BRICS shun that niggling ‘N’

    We were really out of that league anyway, but illusions of grandeur have almost become our national ethos. First we brand ourselves the ‘giant of Africa’. We boast of a large landmass and an impressively large and ravenously growing population, but we are shy to probe the quality of that population. Is it a mass of hopeless hoi polloi? We have huge hydrocarbon wealth that providence graciously heaped under our soil, but as the joke goes, providence also bequeathed us with very dull scoundrels as princes of the land. Thus for 50 years of crude exploration, we still export crude to import premium fuel, which is the equivalence of exporting gold and buying lead in return. And at premium price too!

    Oh, how illusive can a people be! The other day we woke up from a bad hangover and we simply started singing ‘Vision 20 – 2020’. They said they saw a vision that Nigeria would rank among the top 20 nations in the world by 2020; that is six years from today. Someone actually said that whoever had that dream was suffering from acute malaria infection. But Hardball wagers that it was a case of drunken stupor. But whatever the ailment may have been, the incubus has dissipated and V-20-2020 has been quietly abandoned or conveniently forgotten.

    We also love ranking and feel good grandiosities. Every now and then we inveigle the West’s chief sovereign rating agencies like Fitch to find some way to put in a nice sidebar for us in their ratings of civilised economies. Recently, when it seemed we had emptied our bag of tricks, we reached down and made our National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) to gerrymander some hoary figures in what it called rebasing of Gross Domestic Product (GDP). And voila, Nigeria has suddenly and magically become the largest economy on the continent; ahead of South Africa and Egypt. It’s a hoax, isn’t it?

    But today, Hardball is taking in by the action of the group of countries known as BRICS, which stands for: Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa. Straightaway, these are serious countries with well tracked economies, with strong production and export bases and, most important, with patriotic leaders who will die for their motherland. They are countries with visionary leaders who have primed their economies on a 30 to 50-year trajectory and it is only a matter of time before they catch up with the highly developed countries of the West.

    Sometime ago, our Nigerian jesters tried to smuggle in our niggardly ‘N’ into BRICS to make it into a better-sounding BRINCS. What a laugh, they must have thought: Nigeria that cannot even light up her presidential villa; a country that cannot even protect her most important asset – crude oil. A big-for-nothing country that cannot run her seaport; we will pick ‘N’ for Niger Republic first, at least she can run a refinery or Benin Republic which runs a better port than Nigeria, the BRICS would have scoffed.

    Last week, the BRICS countries launched a new multi-national development bank which will serve as a veritable counterpoise to the World Bank and other huge finance institutions of the West. And say, who wants a Nigger in his woodpile? Besides, BRINCS sounds ominously like BRINKS, doesn’t it?

  • Chibok girls: 100 days of anguish

    Shall we call it the Chibok mystery, or the Chibok mysticism? What is this Chiboky fairies that have descended upon the land in the last 100 days? Just a little over a hundred days ago, very few Nigerians had ever heard about Chibok; indeed, most Nigerians would have bet it was a place in Bangkok or Cambodia. Most of us never dreamt that Chibok was right at the northeastern corner of Nigeria until that fateful day on April 15 when the Islamist Boko Haram stole about 270 belles in one fell swoop from a girls school; since then, they also stole our innocence, they stole our acquiescence, our quietude and perhaps our government?

    In what will pass for a world record human-jacking, the insurgents, as the report went, invaded the Government Girls Secondary School in Chibok, Gwoza Local Government Area of Borno State, near Nigeria’s Northeast borders with the Republic of Cameroon. It was in the dead of night. The school had recessed but the senior girls were writing their certificate exams. The insurgents, dressed in army uniform, had come in pick-up trucks and buses. They reportedly posed as members of the Nigerian military force who had come to rescue the girls and ship them to safety as there was a report of an imminent attack. That was how about 270 nubile young girls, many only in night gowns, were driven away into the night and taken in the direction of the vast Sambisa forest near the Cameroon border.

    It has been100 days of high drama; 100 days of anguish; 100 days of flailing ineptitude; 100 days of stark, naked reality of how we are governed. The military announced gleefully the day after the kidnap that they had rescued the girls but they returned two days later to eat their word: “no we have not rescued them,” they whimpered.

    After this wondrous military faux pas, the Presidency seemed to suggest that the kidnap story is all a ruse after all; a mirage that would soon clear as we journey on this mired macadam. But it won’t go; days lapsed into weeks and … Then the First Lady weighed in (apparently disgusted by government-military foot-dragging). “Anything I step into succeeds,” she boasted. She stopped short of summoning the Security Council. But government officials were fetched before her and they rendered frantic testimonies before live television cameras in Aso Rock Villa. It was in the course of her intervention that she rendered the now famous tears-evoking drama, titled: Chai! Dere   is God o!

    Let’s say for once, Dame Patience failed in a venture as the Chibok girls remain in mysterious captivity. But since government would not cease initiative, the matter took a life of its own as #bringbackourgirls suddenly went viral on the cyber space about 60 days after the girls had been plucked from their beds. The world woke up to the obscene magnitude of the act and any man or woman who had a voice on this planet spoke up. Protests erupted in Abuja and spread across Nigerian cities and world capitals. Foreign military aid from the US, UK and other countries were allowed to join the fray but all in vain.

    It was only on Tuesday, the 99th day, that the president met with the girls’ parents. After the 100th day, maybe we should change the hash-tag to: where are the girls?

  • Gloating in Adamawa

    If there was any lingering doubt about the identities of the power-hungry schemers, who determined the untidy removal of the former Adamawa State Governor, Murtala Nyako, it was certainly laid to rest by the triumphalism of the former Speaker of the House of Assembly and Acting Governor, Umaru Fintiri.

    The Acting Governor’s fourth day in office was dramatically and significantly marked by a revealing closed-door meeting he had with some high-profile officials of the ruling Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) in Abuja. There was no question about his gloating as he spoke with reporters afterwards.  “As a loyal and obedient party member,” he said, “I came on a courtesy call to my party and the National Working Committee as my first assignment after the battle to remove Governor Nyako who had stolen the mandate of the PDP under which he was elected.”  Fintiri added: “I came here to bring back the mandate and I have handed over to them the mandate. I promise that I will work together with the party, its leadership and the people of Adamawa to ensure that our party is restored to the people.”

    A content analysis of Fintiri’s remarks indicates that Nyako’s impeachment and subsequent removal were most likely inspired more by his defection from the PDP to the rival All Progressives Congress (APC) than by his alleged “gross misconduct.”  This reasoning, of course, is based on the fact that the definition of the critical phrase should not reasonably include an individual’s voluntary movement from one party to another. In other words, irrespective of the veracity or invalidity of the charges against Nyako, the mission of the apparently teleguided legislators was to get rid of him by all means, including nauseatingly indecent and dishonourable methods, not to say legally-deficient processes.

    It is worth observing that the accusations that fuelled the eventual removal of Nyako were not unveiled while he remained a member of the PDP, but were suddenly unearthed after his exit from the party. To a large extent, this fact colours the allegations even if they could be proved; and the conveniently delayed pursuit of punishment is itself a strong indictment of the integrity of the self-righteous accusers.

    Expectedly, the PDP National Publicity Secretary, Chief Olisa Metuh, echoed Fintiri’s remarks, and was quoted as saying that the treatment Nyako got would restore the party’s dignity and roll back the rot caused by him.  Metuh’s choice of words is amazing because it suggests that he may not be conscious of the meaning they convey.  If undignified conduct is seen as having restored the party’s dignity, it is food for thought and should prompt a deeper examination, even a questioning, of the party’s values. Also, speaking of rot, what could be more rotten than the celebration of evil, which this big excitement represents?

    Regrettably, this episode has once again demonstrated that the politically- powerful in the country are usually less guided by the spirit of the law and often more interested in how they can manipulate the letter of the law for narrow and short-sighted self-aggrandisement.

     

  • President of Aso Rock

    Goodluck Jonathan is president of where?  Aso Rock, the president appears to think.  Nigeria, the distraught Chibok parents, whose girls are approaching 100 days in Boko Haram captivity, vigorously insist.

    That appears the drama behind the Chibok parents’ reported shunned invitation to the Aso Rock, Abuja seat of federal power, which has also reportedly been rescheduled.

    Although President Jonathan’s spinners tried to pin the snub on the patriots campaigning to save the Chibok girls, it was all a moment of truth the president and his men (and women) found rather unpalatable.

    Before 17-year-old Pakistani Malala Yousafzai came, the president had bluntly refused to visit Chibok, to share in the pains of the parents, ironically cast into grief by the sheer incompetence of the Jonathan government.  Like a bad artisan that blames his tools for his incompetence, President Jonathan gave many reasons why a visit to Chibok was no priority.

    To start with, he never believed the girls were kidnapped; his presidential court pushing out the old wives’ tales that the kidnap was an opposition creation.

    That wilful — and wicked — living in denial was responsible for the First Lady’s Dia ris God o TV show, ironically (or rather justifiably) after which she turned herself into the butt of global jokes.

    How a responsible government would fail in its duty and yet the president’s spouse would turn around to bully grieving parents, just because they are perceived nobodies by a misguided government, beats all imagination.

    Then after a belated acceptance that there was indeed a kidnap, and with global attention on the outrage, the president jerked himself awake, since Chibok and a compelling visit was fast becoming a recurrent feature in his power nightmare.

    But again, a foreign trip came, with sweet photo-ops; in the Paris, France, summit on Boko Haram; and how to bail out Nigeria and its fumbling president.  Mr. President junked Chibok again, even sounding off in far-away Paris that a visit to Chibok would be useless, since it wouldn’t bring back the girls.  Well, more than 50 days after Paris, the girls are yet to be brought back, except the few that escaped from the terrorists’ den.

    But the most annoying reason was the official line that President Jonathan was shunning Chibok for security reasons.  Put starkly, the president would not visit Chibok unless and until it is absolutely safe to do so.  That is hardly a crime; for self-preservation is natural and instinctive.

    Still, these parents have their homes at Chibok.  For good or for ill, they still brave the danger to come for summons in Abuja and retreat after to their Chibok homes, even if they had become endangered species in their own country.

    So, if after the Malala persuasion, the best the president could offer was to receive the hurting parents in his gilded cave of Aso Rock, enjoying an enclave of safety and security even if these innocent citizens are trapped in open and naked fire line of terror, then it is Jonathan’s moment of truth, which he must live with.

    Again, Mr. Commander-in-Chief:  Are your president of Nigeria or president of Aso Rock?  A visit to Chibok — and now — will truly answer that question.

     

     

  • Rope-a-dope governance

    This piece, first published on June 23, is being rerun as a salute to the Federal Government for heeding Hardball’s strident calls and setting up the N30billion  ‘Victims Support Fund’. Hardball thinks it is a remarkable gesture that it is better late than never. Read on:

    Hardball had canvassed the issue of finding succour for the victims of Boko Haram insurgency until he was wearied out by the Federal Government’s seeming rope-a-dope tactics. You remember the legendary pugilist, Mohammed Ali, in his heyday, perfected this fighting stratagem in which he leans against the boxing ring ropes, shields his face and goads his opponent to pound the rest of his body. Because a great boxer’s body is as tough as a mass of polythene, you would badger at his body only to your peril. To drill our point home, the Federal Government may (unbeknown to it) have adopted a rope-a-dope style of governance to the effect that it is almost impossible to canvass for alternative policy options today.

    The Boko Haram insurgents have carried out intense war on a large chunk of the North in the past five years without let. No arm of government is seriously taking records, but an estimated 5,000 Nigerians may have been killed, while about 15,000 may have been inflicted with bodily injuries. There are huge material losses too in terms of property, businesses, goods and cash. But nobody is keeping tab, which is bad enough. But worse is that government has not considered any response to these hapless collateral outcomes of our current hate and terror regime.

    This callous indifference may have pushed the visiting United States lawmakers to make a strident call to the Federal Government to spare a thought for these victims. Being Americans and extant lawmakers for that matter, perhaps government would be apt to listen to them and act upon their appeal faster than it would hearken to a ranting and a disgusting Nigerian columnist. But let it be done all the same and done quickly. The US congress men and women, who came mid-June, said they were in town as part of the global effort to ensure the release of the teenage school girls kidnapped in Chibok, Borno State, since April 14.

    Steve Stockman, who led the delegation to Nigeria, spoke its mind thus: “The best thing that could happen is if we have a fund set up for those that lost their lives and for the families that remain here on this earth.”

    Nigerians, including this columnist, have shouted themselves hoarse on this matter, which seems rather straightforward and commonsensical. Why has the Federal Government or any government for that matter not deemed it fit to set up a committee and a fund to begin to sort the numerous victims and grant them reprieve? What we have experienced since 2009 is that after each attack, the dead are evacuated and often poured into a mass grave, while the injured are taken to hospitals and largely abandoned to their fate.

    While we kowtow and bend over double to appease the terrorists, as was done for the Niger Delta militants, we must track and manage the poor victims in order to heal not only the physical, but also emotional and spiritual wounds too. It is called atonement.

  • Bluffing will not bring back our girls

    It is double cause for concern that over 200 schoolgirls abducted by the Islamist terror group Boko Haram in Chibok, Borno State, have remained in captivity since April 15; and more importantly, the Jonathan presidency is yet to address the grave issue with reassuring decisiveness. It is noteworthy that Abubakar Shekau, the militia’s notorious leader, has spelt out conditions for the release of the kidnapped pupils of the Girls Senior Secondary School, Chibok.  He said : “All I’m saying is, if you want us to release your girls that we kidnapped, you must release our brethren that are held in Borno, Yobe, Kano, Kaduna, Enugu and Lagos states, as well as Abuja. We know that you have incarcerated our brethren all over this country…We will never release them until our brethren are released.”

    Shekau’s words were unambiguous enough, which is why it is puzzling that the Federal Government’s response presents a picture of unhelpful ambiguity. The nearest to an official reaction by the government came through a third party, namely, British Africa Minister Mark Simmonds who gave a clue to President Goodluck Jonathan’s thinking after a meeting in Abuja to discuss an international rescue mission linked with the kidnap, which has attracted worldwide outrage and  condemnation. The BBC quoted Simmonds as saying in respect of Jonathan, “He made it clear that there will be no negotiation with Boko Haram that involves a swap of abducted schoolgirls for prisoners.”

    There has been no contradiction from official quarters, which is not only food for thought but also raises a logical question as to the government’s plan, if any, to get the girls back alive. Perhaps the administration needs to be reminded that it is battling with a murderous group, which has again and again proved to be unpredictable. The inescapable implication is that the government may be running out of time to secure the girls’ freedom, and would need to act expeditiously to prevent the group from possibly having a rethink that might not favour releasing them.

    Understandably, Jonathan is most likely anxious to avoid being perceived as  vulnerable to bullying tactics, particularly against the background that he has often been criticised by the country’s political opposition for alleged weak leadership. However, this is a wrong occasion for him to attempt to change that perception, which may indeed be valid.

    Moreover, given that the concept and practice of prisoner exchange or prisoner swap are not strange, yielding to the idea may not be a bad idea.  Of relevance to the country’s situation is the model of Humanitarian Exchange or Humanitarian Accord popularised by the experience of Colombia in which the government reached an agreement with guerillas to swap prisoners for hostages, an idea that was pushed by the families of the captives.  It is easy to imagine that in the Chibok case the affected families, if not the empathetic public, would readily endorse such arrangement.

    In case Jonathan does not understand, it would be a demonstration of strength to ensure that the girls are brought back alive, no matter the cost. This is not the time for bluffing.

  • Traffic as metaphor

    Take a casual look at the Lagos traffic — or at traffic in any Nigerian bustling city or town for that matter — and you might just glimpse the metaphor for the country: disorganised people, directionless leaders.

    Watch that danfo or taxi cab driver that darted out of its legit lane and headed against traffic, honking and blaring all of the way. Then with equal drama and flourish, it veers back into the legit lane, after gaining some 100 or 200 metres.

    Normally you’d expect the traffic police or any agent of the law to apprehend him.  Besides, you’d expect drivers on the legit lane would at least block the cheat, if only to teach the morals that cheating does not pay.  What, however, do you find?

    The danfo driver makes a triumphal entry, with people in the right lane sheepishly giving way.  Even while zooming on the wrong lane, the traffic warden, if any, happily cuts a deal and waves the rascal on to more future mischief.  The public looks on helplessly — and everyone chokes happily ever after!

    But that is even the literal picture.  The symbolic picture is more telling.

    For starters, with due respect to the decent infinitesimal number among this wild breed, danfo drivers behave — and proudly — as the worst crust in society.   They know it.  The society too knows as it rewards them with scorn.  Yet, they reserve the right to boss the very best on the road, with dire risk of vehicular or even bodily damage to their betters.

    That is a sound metaphor for Nigeria’s governance. As a rule, only the very worst are good enough for high office: the cretin, the megalomaniac, the conceited.  Yet, the society suffers them gladly, so much so that there is hardly any sense of wrong or right.  The leaders throw down anything; and the people just lap it up with obsequious love.

    As the danfo driver recklessly dashes to and fro in the traffic, daring his betters by all standards to do their worst, so do temporary occupiers of office dare the people, their supposed masters, to go jump into a lake.  The popular word is impunity.  Sure, a carry-over from the military era, but the civil-rule-era version is germinating fast and taking firm roots, despite the pretence at democracy.

    As for the traffic warden schmoozing with traffic criminals, so has the order of the Nigerian state made its peace, for a huge and hefty bribe, with the few but loud felons, leaving the generality of the people numb and helpless.

    Worst still, the skewed morality appears to have weaned the people of their supposed outrage and condemned them to subversive thoughts of “joining them” if you can’t “beat them”.  Of course, a value-neuter society is doomed; just as a value-neuter state faces eventual decay and extinction.

    The buzz words: a failing and failed state.

    How about this for a ruthless clincher?  Abuja is Nigeria’s glittering federal capital.  But A-bu-ja, given a certain tonal bent in Yoruba, simply means (illicit) short-cut.

    That is what traffic in Nigeria is all about — and that is the overweening symbol of contemporary Nigeria as it stumbles along.

     

  • Traffic as metaphor

    Take a casual look at the Lagos traffic — or at traffic in any Nigerian bustling city or town for that matter — and you might just glimpse the metaphor for the country: disorganised people, directionless leaders.

    Watch that danfo or taxi cab driver that darted out of its legit lane and headed against traffic, honking and blaring all of the way. Then with equal drama and flourish, it veers back into the legit lane, after gaining some 100 or 200 metres.

    Normally you’d expect the traffic police or any agent of the law to apprehend him.  Besides, you’d expect drivers on the legit lane would at least block the cheat, if only to teach the morals that cheating does not pay.  What, however, do you find?

    The danfo driver makes a triumphal entry, with people in the right lane sheepishly giving way.  Even while zooming on the wrong lane, the traffic warden, if any, happily cuts a deal and waves the rascal on to more future mischief.  The public looks on helplessly — and everyone chokes happily ever after!

    But that is even the literal picture.  The symbolic picture is more telling.

    For starters, with due respect to the decent infinitesimal number among this wild breed, danfo drivers behave — and proudly — as the worst crust in society.   They know it.  The society too knows as it rewards them with scorn.  Yet, they reserve the right to boss the very best on the road, with dire risk of vehicular or even bodily damage to their betters.

    That is a sound metaphor for Nigeria’s governance. As a rule, only the very worst are good enough for high office: the cretin, the megalomaniac, the conceited.  Yet, the society suffers them gladly, so much so that there is hardly any sense of wrong or right.  The leaders throw down anything; and the people just lap it up with obsequious love.

    As the danfo driver recklessly dashes to and fro in the traffic, daring his betters by all standards to do their worst, so do temporary occupiers of office dare the people, their supposed masters, to go jump into a lake.  The popular word is impunity.  Sure, a carry-over from the military era, but the civil-rule-era version is germinating fast and taking firm roots, despite the pretence at democracy.

    As for the traffic warden schmoozing with traffic criminals, so has the order of the Nigerian state made its peace, for a huge and hefty bribe, with the few but loud felons, leaving the generality of the people numb and helpless.

    Worst still, the skewed morality appears to have weaned the people of their supposed outrage and condemned them to subversive thoughts of “joining them” if you can’t “beat them”.  Of course, a value-neuter society is doomed; just as a value-neuter state faces eventual decay and extinction.

    The buzz words: a failing and failed state.

    How about this for a ruthless clincher?  Abuja is Nigeria’s glittering federal capital.  But A-bu-ja, given a certain tonal bent in Yoruba, simply means (illicit) short-cut.

    That is what traffic in Nigeria is all about — and that is the overweening symbol of contemporary Nigeria as it stumbles along.

     

  • Abuja’s dreamy city builders

    It is remarkable that the Goodluck Jonathan presidency is dreaming of a dream city in a shambolic setting. The administration, playing deaf to loud criticisms of its controversial Centenary City project designed to commemorate 100 years of the historic amalgamation of the country’s Northern and Southern Protectorates in 1914,  has finally unveiled the scenic beauty.

    The news picture of a smiling President Jonathan symbolically scooping sand with a shovel at the ground-breaking ceremony in the federal capital, Abuja, presented him as being engaged in a labour of love.

    Unsurprisingly, his words on the occasion were in sync with the image. He said: “I am indeed delighted to be part of history at today’s ground-breaking and unveiling ceremony of the Centenary City, Abuja.”

    Jonathan added: “I am pleased to state that the successes of such cities as Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, Shenzhen in the Peoples’ Republic of China and the Songdo International Business District in South Korea have shown that the development of a themed city is a strong social, political and economic tool for securing foreign investment, promoting positive international attention and heralding new national economic renaissance.”

    No doubt, the listing of existing models for the project was an enlightening exercise, even though by highlighting these cases, there appeared to be more focus on the end result rather than how such outcome was achieved. So, it looked like Jonathan was daydreaming, not to say that he seemed to have been enjoying an intense moment of delusion.

    It is instructive that the cost of the city, which will occupy 1,200 hectares, is put at N2.976tr ($18.6bn); and 20 per cent of the plots will be for residential houses, while the remaining 80 per cent will be for mixed use and commercial purposes.

    Interestingly, in what amounted to an unwitting put-down of his administration’s performance, Jonathan boasted: “We don’t want to build a city where everybody will have maiguard (security guard). We don’t want a city where everybody will dig their boreholes and where everybody will be buying generators.”  If, as he implied, the larger milieu is a sorry advertisement for dysfunctional infrastructure, is that reality not a good reason for Hardball to say “shame on him”?

    The questions are: Shouldn’t infrastructural efficiency outside the boundary of the Centenary City, meaning across the country, be the main concern of these dreamers? Is this city meant to be a grand beauty in the middle of striking ugliness?

    The aptness of these concerns was indirectly illustrated by Gen. (retd) Abdulsalami Abubakar, a former military Head of State and Chairman of Centenary City Plc, the company said to be the promoter of the project. He said, in addition to Jonathan’s remarks: “It is only when there is peace that the project can be successful. It is the duty of everyone of us to make sure that we maintain peace in the country.”

    Against this background, the champions of the project must be living in a dreamland if they believe that their concentration on the city, to the apparent detriment of the country, is not counter-productive to the desired peace.