Author and human rights activist Nengi Josef Owei is out of prison where he was committed following a libel case resulting from one of his long prosaic letters. But he is out with another epistle. This time, to the Bayelsa State Governor, Mr. Seriake Dickson.
His latest essay is crafted like an open letter to the governor loaded with lines of advice on the current plight of workers in Bayelsa State. He entitled the short epistle, ‘Sermons From The Oxbow Lake’.
Throughout the letter, Owei addresses Dickson as His Excellency. He opines that the governor and his administration have failed to build on the legacies of the late former Governor Diepreye Alamieyeseigha.
The beginning of his letter captures his theme. He says: “This is not a rumour, Your Excellency. According to the people of Bayelsa State, you are owing them salaries for five months. They are quite right. There is great hunger in the land, and we appear not to have saved for the rainy day. We have fallen short of the dreams of our forebears. We have fallen short of the expectations of Alamieyeseigha”.
He further gives a brief background of the reason behind his incarceration, his future work and immediately returns to the subject of his epistle. “Your Excellency”, he says, “ I was not at the man’s (Alamieyseigha’s) burial. As you know, I was in prison for writing a book, for spelling the name of my neighbour on one hundred and fifty-three pages of paper. I have since resolved to write a new book where I will spell only my name on every page, and hope that nobody will take offence against me for doing that.
“But that is by the way. Let’s be good friends for once. Let’s chat. We have terrible issues of state to deal with. We have the Niger Delta Avengers to think about. We have the aftermath of the labour strike to talk about. We have the high cost of fuel to consider. We really need to talk”.
Juxtaposing the present workers’ condition with how Alamieyeseigha, Dr. Goodluck Jonathan and former Governor Timipre Sylva treated the state’s civil servants, he continues: “I was just wondering, Your Excellency, how Alamieyeseigha would have felt if he were still alive to witness the sorry sight of Bayelsans deprived of their pay for five months running.
“He would have frowned, Alamieyeseigha would have frowned like a cowboy, at any Special Adviser or Commissioner who may have had the temerity to advise him not to pay salaries for one month. It was completely out of the man’s dictionary, that thing about owing salaries.
“Alamieyeseigaha saw the worker as the primary tool for the progress of Bayelsa State, and he felt duty bound to pay whoever he owed, whoever he hired. You could practically say the same thing about Goodluck Jonathan and Timipre Sylva. They paid salaries in their days as governors. They never messed with the take-home pay of civil servants.
“In fact, they took active steps to improve the common plight of civil servants under various empowerment programmes. They repeatedly acknowledged that Bayelsa was a civil service state, and they sympathized with that reality. And the fact of the matter, Your Excellency, is that you benefited from such programmes when you were not governor. Even your conscience recognizes that as the truth.”
Massaging the ego of his subject, Owei boldly points out what he considers the major unforgivable weaknesses of the present government and elaborately offers counsel.
He says: “I have been doing my diplomatic best to sift the gross information getting to me about your government. I am searching for words that won’t wound your pride. As things stand, however, it seems that every nice thing there is to say about the Dickson government has been said. I shudder to hear the not so nice things that are being said at the moment.
“It is scandalous not to pay salaries, to start with. Think about it, my friend. It doesn’t tell well of your government in the history books. It has gone down in the history of Bayelsa State that Chief Henry Seriake Dickson has taken the trophy for the first governor to starve Bayelsa of daily bread.
“That is bad enough. That’s not flattering at all. I happen to think that you can improve your image, the image of the much vaunted restoration government, by redeeming your recent pledge to pay half salaries for February, and go beyond that to do what’s right and proper”.
He condemns the idea of paying workers half salaries and shudders to hear that the governor recently paid workers only half of April salary out of five month arrears.
“In the first place, I think it’s unheard of, and I don’t mind using that word again, to talk of half salaries for one month when you are owing all of five months. You should pay all, and disappoint those who say — with their noses in the air — that your government can’t even pay salaries. Why should that be the foremost topic of discussion in every kitchen? It doesn’t make sense, if you ask me. And the earlier we sit down to talk, the better, “he says.
He adds: “As you know, I shall be embarking on a reading tour around Africa very soon. I don’t want Robert Mugabe to ask me why my governor is owing the salaries of workers in an oil producing state, when I get to Zimbabwe.
“What should I tell him? That man has the tongue of a wasp. His wit is beyond control. Read between the lines of anything he says. The other day, he said something about smokers and fools, as if they are one and the same thing, and I couldn’t help sniggering into my sleeves. That man is funny, don’t you think?
“So what should I tell Mugabe? What should I tell Bill Clinton when I get to Arkansas? What should I tell David Cameron when I get to 10 Downing Street, London? What should I tell the princes and princesses of foreign climes why you don’t pay salaries anymore?
“Why are you telling workers, civil servants for that matter, to ply other sources of personal preoccupation and fend for themselves? Remember that civil servants are forbidden to engage in private practice of any kind. Why is your government distracting the entire workforce of Bayelsa State from the founding dreams of our forefathers?
“Let’s be civil, Your Excellency. Let’s be frank. Let’s reason this out around a round conference table with glass upon it to reflect our faces, coffee cups by our sides. I hate to think that the argument in every Bayelsa home has been brought down to a pot of domestic soup that was routine in times past. Even the radio now talks about the rampant theft of soup pots. That is not funny, Your Excellency, if it applies to Bayelsa under your charge.
“Your primary obligation to the good people of Bayelsa State, as we speak, is that you pay salaries. The spirit of Alamieyeseigha will bear me witness on this. The worst government Bayelsa has seen so far may well be that of Colonel Edor Obi. It was a government that did not embark on any project. Even till date, there is no single infrastructural adventure credited to that administration. Its primary duty, as it turned out, was that it paid salaries.
“Throughout the life of that government, that ideal was not compromised. The question is inevitable. Why should we be compelled to compare your government with the worst? Why let that happen when you can avoid it?”
Owei is not shy to identify with the economic difficulties facing the governor but maintains that Dickson has no reason not to pay salaries of workers. He recalls that the governor once opened a bank account to save for the rainy day. He reminds the governor that the rain he saved for has started falling.
“Do not lose sleep on the pain of a good advice given freely in friendly tones conducive to the ears of the world’s countless antennae. Your government needs friends, Your Excellency. I am quick to identify with your plight because this has never happened before. Bayelsa has never seen this kind of deprivation since the advent of the state.
“Correct me if am wrong. But it has never been so terrible that school fees cannot be paid and children have to stay back at home and endure the day’s bite of hunger. No governor before you, from Alamieyeseigha, through Jonathan, to Sylva, ever got so helpless that they couldn’t pay salaries.
“This is the proverbial rainy day that you were saving for, Your Excellency. You were given to see that such a day will come. You were led to envisage this day and to envision a time when the lack of salaries will beat every civil servant indoors, far away from their offices, leaving the government as empty as the old secretariat built by Olubolade”.
In lines full of imageries, Owei laments the untold hardship of Bayelsans arising from non-payment of salaries. He asks the governor to seek advice from true friends.
He adds: “You do need friends like me to cheer you up at this trying time, Your Excellency. I am at your service. I am here to whisper some home truths to you. What I tell you, believe me, happens in every Bayelsa home as we speak.
“The pots are empty. The portion of bread has become but a slice instead of a full loaf, and there is no talk of butter spread upon it. There is talk, instead, of parents using their children as mortgage for food in the open market. These things were unheard of, I tell you. They remain unheard of, and yet here they are with us.
“First things first, Your Excellency. Clear the backlog of emoluments to the beleaguered civil servant so that the burden of leadership will become lighter on your shoulders. Redeem your name from the bad books of memory, and forsake your foul temper when you are appealing to the sensibilities of the multitude.
“A friendly word of advice never hurt anybody. The scripture says a labourer is worthy of his wages. You know the book, the chapter and the verse in question. Pay the salaries, Your Excellency, and revamp the image of your government.”
