Category: Saturday Magazine

  • Dimeji Bankole returns

    Dimeji Bankole returns

    Just when he appears to have permanently vanished from the minds of many, former Speaker of the House of Representatives, Dimeji Bankole, has staged a return to the social scene. Those who should know say Bankole is quietly putting structures in place to re-launch himself to political reckoning. They claim that he is still very close to key members of the House of Representatives.

    According to an inside source, the former speaker is staying put in Abuja because that is where things are really happening.

  • Dele Giwa: Kayode Soyinka replies ex-Police boss:‘I didn’t run to the toilet when the bomb exploded’

    Dele Giwa: Kayode Soyinka replies ex-Police boss:‘I didn’t run to the toilet when the bomb exploded’

    On December 15 last year, veteran journalist and publisher of Africa Today magazine, Mr. Kayode Soyinka, clocked 55 years. It was a milestone he almost did not live to witness let alone celebrate. This is considering the fact that he could have died 27 years ago if he had not survived the parcel bomb incident of October 19, 1986, which sadly claimed the life of Dele Giwa, the founding editor-in-chief of Newswatch with whom he was having breakfast when the letter bomb was delivered. With the announcement of Dele Giwa’s mother’s death a few days ago, we caught up with the famous international journalist and publisher, who incidentally had contested on three consecutive occasions to be governor of Ogun State but failed to get the ticket. In this interview with NNEKA NWANERI, the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN) stalwart speaks on a wide-range of national issues from the parcel bomb incident and the merger talks among opposition parties to the controversial sale of Newswatch last year, among other issues.

     

    What would you say about the mother of your former boss Dele Giwa, who died early this month?

    Yes, the Dele Giwa issue has become part of my life; it’s like a cross I carry because of my involvement with the parcel bomb incident of almost 27 years ago. Remember, I only survived it by the grace of God. You are asking me this question again because of the death of Dele’s mother just announced. I got a telephone call very early that morning when she died. It was Mr. Soji Akinrinade that called me from London to break the news to me – barely an hour after she died. She was a strong willed woman and I had known her over the years. Sometimes, in those days, when we were still at Concord newspapers, long before the advent of Newswatch, and I was visiting Nigeria and staying with Dele at his house in Ikeja (not where the bomb took place), it was either I would meet his mother there at home with him, or she had just left back to the village a day or so before my arrival.

    Dele was very close to his mother. He did not joke with her at all. It was an honour for me to have met her. The last time I saw her was at Dele’s burial in their village near Auchi, in Edo State. I was there live with my wife contrary to the erroneous story of Babangida’s government’s mischief makers who tried to deceive the Nigerian people in order to exonerate the government from the assassination of Dele Giwa, saying that I had fled the country. They deliberately spread all kinds of falsehood, ignoring even newspaper reports and pictures of myself and my wife in attendance at the burial. And mind you, how could I have fled the country? My wife and children were not in Nigeria with me when the bomb exploded, they had to take the next available flight to Nigeria to join me. Yet, Babangida’s men said I fled the country. And my family and I remained in the country throughout the whole period of the controversy and burial arrangement. We returned to London together through the former British Caledonian Airways, through Muritala Mohammed Airport.

    There was no way we could have left quietly. We were accompanied to and seen off at the airport by friends, including the Newswatch editors, and family. The airline people recognised us. Our two children were still small then. The air hostesses took them from us, played with them, and they were asking me if I was feeling better – knowing the trauma one must have been through in the past weeks, and took us straight and right inside the aircraft, even before checking in other passengers. Yet the Babangida men kept saying, even till today, that I fled the country. Can you imagine?

    So how did the parcel bomb explode?

    Save me the agony of going through all this again. I don’t like narrating the story. I have said enough about it over the years. But there is somebody I must use this opportunity to respond to. I have been deliberately keeping quiet all these years that he has been writing about me, accusing me of being a suspect and even insinuated that I was the one who brought the bomb. That was the former Deputy Inspector-General of Police, Christopher Omeben, who investigated the horrific incident, and who I understand is now a pastor. He did not believe that I could survive the bomb. He was unfair to me severally in the book that he wrote on Dele Giwa, and in an interview he granted The Sun Newspaper last year or so. He said in that interview that I ran to the toilet when the parcel bomb was delivered. That is not true. It’s a blatant lie. He got wrong information.

    This man, who was not there when the bomb exploded. Whatever information he collected after the explosion was from some third, fourth or even tenth party, but he would stop at nothing trying to rope me in. But every time he tried to do that, he always failed because no one is listening to him and such accusations can never stick. My survival was simply God’s miracle. And I will forever be grateful to Him while I pray that He continues to bless Dele’s soul. But the Pastor Omeben does not believe that such miracles can happen. He has never heard about a plane crash where hundreds of passengers have perished but small children, babies, survived. Isn’t that a miracle? Our Pastor Omeben has never heard about an earthquake that has brought down many buildings, turning a whole community into rubble and still over a month or so after, when all rescuers have left, abandoning the search for survivors, people are still being dragged out alive from the rubble.

    Yet Pastor Omeben still keeps wondering how I could have survived such a dreadful bombing without a scratch on my body. He forgot the terrible damage done to my eardrums and the continuous noise or echo in my both ears I had to carry everyday for about five years after the incident before they were healed. And even then, till today, I hear better from my right ear, while the left one which was nearer to the blast is weaker. Well, my answer to him is that he should keep asking. Those who sent the bomb to us are still here and walking about the streets freely. But Dele is not here and his mother has now gone to join him without getting justice. I am here only by the grace of the Almighty God. Definitely, God will deliver the ultimate judgment. If not here, at the great beyond when we all meet at His feet.

    Do you sometimes feel threatened?

    Why should I feel threatened when I don’t have an excuse to be here anymore? I should have gone that day 27 years ago. That was death I came face to face with. It was like I had died and I came back. May be you don’t know that I held the letter bomb in my hand before I gave it back to Dele. If I had decided to open it when Dele gave it to me, it would have been a totally different story. It wasn’t my time to go! It’s been traumatic living with that experience for many years. I have lived with the psychological trauma of it so much so that one gets used to it, and as I said earlier, it is now part of my life and I have moved on since. Even up till now, when I make appearances, especially in Nigeria and I am introduced and people hear the name, Kayode Soyinka, you will naturally hear the comments, “the parcel bomb survivor”.

    I went through a lot in those days, most especially the pressure from the Nigerian security service. They placed my name into their computer system at all the points of entry to and departure from Nigeria. That made me look like a wanted person. So I could not come back to Nigeria while Babangida was still in power. You won’t believe it, they chased me all the way to London because they never thought anyone could survive the parcel bomb and be able to tell the story of how it happened. They were so amateurish, they didn’t even know how to disguise. The SSS operatives, through the Nigeria High Commission, would come to our house in London. They would park their cars right in front of our house and be watching my movement. What they did not know was that even the UK authorities knew what happened to me in Nigeria and had already placed their own surveillances over the Nigerian SSS. I was under the protection of Her Majesty’s government throughout the time because they knew what I went through in Nigeria.

    So why should I feel threatened? I am just an ordinary mortal and I’m doing the only job I am known for, and have done all my life, and like doing best; the job that I have passion for, and has given me everything that I have today both nationally and internationally, which is journalism – being a newspaper man. Nothing will threaten me because I have lived a fulfilled life. I have my family; my two children are now both grown up. I have been privileged to send them to some of the best educational institutions in the world. My son for example was educated at Harrow. I am sure you know what that means. They finished their university education with two degrees each four/five years ago and are working in London. So I am done. I am more or less in retirement as a newspaper man. So when I see young journalists and reporters like you, I see a bit of myself in you because that was how I started, did so well in this Nigeria everyone is talking so badly about now.

    I was posted out by Daily Sketch in 1978 as London Correspondent , a key position in the newspaper industry, and I made a career out of being a foreign correspondent and out of journalism as a whole. That is my pride and joy as a Nigerian journalist. I’m only now trying to spend more time back home in Nigeria having spent over 30 years doing my work abroad, and it is not easy. I have spent 37 years in the newsroom doing my work. So if I die tomorrow, you cannot know me for any other thing but journalism, and they should just simply put on my tombstone: Kayode Soyinka – Newspaper reporter. I hope I live a long life like my father and see my grandchildren and great grandchildren.

    But in case I suddenly die, it does not matter anymore. I am not afraid of death having had a close shave with one already; everyone will die one day and go six feet under the ground. No matter what wealth one may have accumulated, things like that don’t bother me anymore. And by the way, we can’t take them to the grave. I have seen a lot and been in important places and related with influential people around the world – and still do. But I like and enjoy living an ordinary life. I hate attention. I am usually public shy despite being a media person.

    Have we learnt anything in Nigeria from the Dele Giwa episode?

    Certainly not from the letter-bombing of Dele Giwa. There are so many criminals in Nigeria today and people have become too fraudulent, the corruption is mind-boggling and life means nothing in Nigeria. It is so sad. Everyone seems so desperate for money and power! It’s a real shame. People who are really nobody feel very important, pompous and arrogant. I stear clear of such people. When the parcel bomb was delivered, I was saying at that time that it was very important for the authorities to get those who did it because if they didn’t, it would encourage similar occurrences in future. Now, see what has happened since Dele Giwa was killed by letter bomb. See the number of unresolved murders and assassinations we have had in Nigeria. In fact, things have gone even worse. Look at Chief Bola Ige. A whole Attorney-General and Minister of Justice of Nigeria was assassinated and up till now, the killers have not been found. Ditto Baba Rewane, Funso Williams, and so on and so forth. So many of those who have been killed without a trace of who did it have encouraged others to do the same because they were not brought to book. Now high level kidnapping is taking place – a totally new dimension – and so are the Boko Haram bombings. It’s gone out of control. So I don’t believe Nigeria has improved since the Dele Giwa assassination.

    Is that what motivated you to go into politics?

    No, not necessarily. Genuinely, I wanted to serve having had personal fulfillment in my career. As a political journalist, I have always interacted with people in politics both locally and internationally. I have reached a stage in my life and career when I thought I should put something back to the community that made me. I didn’t want to do it nationally at first but chose to go back home to the grassroots level. So I went to my state, Ogun State, where I put my name forward and campaigned in three general elections to be elected as governor. I do not know who has done it before me consecutively for three times. And I don’t know why they didn’t give me the ticket.

    What is your view on the merger talks going on by the opposition parties?

    I think it is a good thing. It is long overdue. But we have to be careful how we tread on this. I am obviously concerned about the interest of my own party, ACN, in the merger. We should be the senior partner in the merger because we are the party with control over the largest number of states. And it should be spelt out clearly for us and our people what we are getting: is it wholesale merger, or an alliance or a coalition? These are different things and it must be made clear to us what it is we are doing and getting. It will be good for Nigeria if the three largest opposition parties in the country can come together as one party. That will create a more viable option for the electorate who are fed up with of the bad, visionless and clueless government of the PDP. The good thing about this one is that the merger process started early before the 2015 election. So we will know soon if this one will work or not.

    How have you maintained your independence as a politician and a publisher?

    I have been in the journalism profession for 37 years. You cannot be a newspaperman of my pedigree and not be forthright when it comes to taking editorial decisions, especially on crucial issues. I am from the old school. When I was a reporter, I didn’t have political ambitions. I went into partisan politics after I had put in about 30 years continuously on the job. Today, I can gladly say my profession is newspaper reporting and not politics. Look at my track record, I have been a reporter here in Nigeria, I have been a foreign correspondent reporting from overseas for over 18 years – a record in Nigeria. I have been an editor and I have been a publisher of my own international news magazine, Africa Today, one of the most influential pan-African news magazines in the world, for another 18 years. That is the highest I can go in my profession. So my politics and publishing or journalism is like oil and water, they don’t mix. I am a politician with a reporter’s notebook in hand!

    What is your reaction to the transition of Newswatch?

    I am sad that Newswatch isn’t on the newsstands now and I gathered that it is the first time in 27 years, apart from when we were proscribed by the Babangida administration after the letter bomb incident. I want to commend the former Newswatch Executives, Dan Agbese, Ray Ekpu, Yakubu Mohammed and Soji Akinrinade who survived Dele Giwa. I commend them because the public will not understand the kind of difficulties they went through after surviving the death of their close colleague in such fatal manner. Remember, Dele Giwa’s death was so horrific; it could put iron into the soul. Then, the magazine was proscribed twice. There are not many newspapers or businesses anywhere in the world that could go through all that and survive. So they should be commended and our people should appreciate that.

    Secondly, they are working in the most difficult business environment. It is not a child’s play to run a newspaper in this country. The business environment is very difficult for a newspaper or newsmagazine like Newswatch that depends on advertising to survive. If the business environment is difficult, the advertising market will be the first to be affected instantly. They went through all that and had to look for other ways to sustainthe iconic magazine by getting investors. I had the opportunity in November last year, when the former Newswatch executives launched a book at the NIIA and I was invited. There I made my position very clear. I told them to take a firm position because they should not let Newswatch die. I reminded them that Newswatch is now part of Nigeria’s history because Dele Giwa lost his life for Newswatch. I also made it clear to them that the issue is no longer theirs alone. It is by far bigger than them (the executives) now because Nigerians themselves have now owned Newswatch. It is in the consciousness of the Nigerian people.

    You know this when you go to the social networks, like Facebook, you see how Nigerians are discussing the issue of Newswatch with so much passion. The magazine has become part and parcel of our daily life. It is now a bigger issue than the former executives. None should forget the supreme price Dele Giwa paid. I therefore appealed for some external intervention in the matter. Except we don’t want to have regard for history, we should know that Newswatch is now part of Nigerian history and it should not be allowed to die. I pray that it won’t be too long before it gets back on the newsstands.

    Are you planning to contest the governorship again in 2015?

    People keep telling me not to give up. Some would go on to remind me that Abraham Lincoln contested several times before he was elected president of the United States. I don’t want to be the Abraham Lincoln of Ogun State. But I am a staunch Baptist and deeply religious person. I therefore believe in God’s own plan for me in life. His grace and glory have already been manifested in me. I have seen them in my life. Or can’t you see them, or feel them, with all the stories I have been telling you? And I have contentment. His time is always the best.

     

     

  • Me and the oga madams

    I have an older cousin, Fola Ajibola who calls her husband ‘my oga’ and I have a friend, Bimbo Odedeji who has been addressing her husband as ‘my lord’ for all the 17 years of their marriage. That’s on one hand.

    On the other hand, I know of a woman who tells her husband that if he is not home at a particular time of the day, there won’t be food for him and for four months running, she has not cooked for him as he has not been returning at that stipulated time. You may want to know the time she set. Well, it is 6.30pm! Once he’s not home by 6.30pm or 7.00pm the grace time, there won’t be food. Pronto!

    I also know a woman who competes with her husband on all activities. If he can go out and hang out with the men till late, she can also have her limitless ladies night. If she needs to go out for a function, she needs no permission as he also doesn’t take permissions to attend functions. After all, he just announces that he has an event to attend and she doesn’t have to agree to it before he goes, so why should she take permissions from him?

    To my very old-fashioned mind, I will rather embrace the woman who calls her husband ‘my oga’ and the one who calls him ‘my-lord’ than the woman who sets boarding house rules for her husband. I won’t also want to be friends with the one who competes with her husband.

    I may be thinking this way not only because I am old-fashioned. I may have seen so much joy in the home of my cousin that I would rather copy a woman like her.

    Fola was born in England and was raised by her very successful father and my highly sophisticated aunty. She schooled in England and she runs one of the most successful online shoe businesses that I know of.

    She also shuttles between Zurich and Dubai for lace materials and gold, which she sells in London. So by all means, she’s not an illiterate and she is really exposed.

    Fola loves ‘gisting’ on the phone and you could hear her giggling across many miles when we talk on the phone, but the moment she hears the key in the lock signaling her husband’s arrival from work, she announces that her ‘oga’ is back and she has to receive him. You can bet that she would rush downstairs to meet him no matter what she’s doing.

    Calling her husband oga does not take away romance from their marriage; it only constantly reminds her that the man is the head of the home and in the order of things, his opinions come first. Well, her husband literally eats from her palms and they are truly happy because she gives him the respect men want. He reciprocates by giving her all the support she might need for the growth of her business and she gets the cooperation she needs in the house.

    Bimbo, maybe because her husband is her lord, has never raised her voice on her husband even during arguments. You won’t want to rubbish the man you call your lord; would you?

    For me, I love endearing words like ‘honey’ ‘darling’ ‘sweetie’ and I may even experiment with ‘my gift’, ‘my treasure’ and so on, but subconsciously, my man is still my oga no matter how ‘stupid’ some people may call that. If by being nice and respectful, I get my peace and my happiness, why not continue to be just that.

    Were dun wo, ko se bi lomo.  That’s one wicked Yoruba saying that literarily means a ‘mad man is good to watch for amusement but nobody wants to have a mad child’. I honestly enjoy relating the stories of the fights and disagreements that most often than not come up in the homes of the women who are themselves ogas in their homes, but I would hate to have their experiences. I maybe madam in my office; in fact I’m madam to my domestic staff but to become oga madam in the home to my partner, may God not give me such powers.

  • Again, fortune smiles on  hawker-parents of triplets ‘detained’ over N40,000 medical bill

    Again, fortune smiles on hawker-parents of triplets ‘detained’ over N40,000 medical bill

    •Arik Air chair opens  exotic provisions  store for them

    About two years ago, what should ordinarily have heralded joy into the lives of Babatunde Omosanya and his wife, Fatimah, brought them great agony. Reason? The couple was blessed with a set of triplets, all boys but they lacked the means to defray hospital bill.

    The management of Junick Maternity Home, Akute, Ogun State, where Fatimah was delivered of the babies, had refused to discharge the mother and the babies until the N40, 000 medical bill was paid.

    Then, the embattled Fatimah cried for help and her beleaguered husband was no less either; they had both shed hot tears for their indigent condition.

    Eight days after they were initially held, the clinic only spared the distraught couple a few minutes to christen their babies at the residence of Omosanya’s mother, where the couple had squatted. They were thereafter hurried back to the clinic where they were again ‘detained’ for days because they could not afford to pay the bill. The babies were named Nabir, Nasir and Naheem.

    Fatimah, then 25, had met Babatunde, then 30, while she was selling bottled table water and beverages in traffic at the Berger axis of the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway where her husband also sold assorted sausage rolls.

    The Nation published their pathetic story in its October 23, 2010 edition, entitled “Who’ll save us from this shame?” Their story had caught the attention of a branch of the Redeemed Christian Church of God (RCCG) in Ogba, Ikeja, Lagos State. The church initially settled the controversial hospital bill but for many weeks, the couple still battled homelessness and basic needs for their children.

    Succour further came their way after the Chairman of Arik Airline, Chief Arumemi Ikhide-Johnson, upon reading their story, launched a search party for the couple in the evening of October 23, 2010.

    Apart from giving them a cash gift of N56, 000, Ikhide-Johnson also provided a tastefully furnished two-bedroom apartment on a two- year rent for the distraught couple. The rent was renewed a few months ago for another three years.

    And two years on, Ikhide-Johnson is not done yet with his kind gestures for the couple and their babies.

    On December 23, 2012, the Edo- born business man again put smiles on the face of the couple by opening a multi-million naira provision shop for them somewhere in Ojodu, Lagos State.

    When our correspondent visited the couple at their new shop on 30,Baale Street, Ojodu, Lagos State, they were full of smiles and heaped praises on their benefactor, who they have not met physically since he took pity on them two years ago.

    Fatimah said: ”We never knew that the kind-hearted man (Arik boss) was not done with us yet. Although several months ago, he had asked us to tell one of his aides, Mr. Samuel Abiola, the kind of business we would like to do and we said that we would like to sell provision items. I did not know that he did not forget his promise until he again sent Mr. Abiola to ask us to look for a shop. He gave us the sum of N752, 000 to pay for the shop’s rent and another N500, 000 to stock the shop with goods.

    “We want to thank him and his wife for all that they have done to make our life better and meaningful and we pray that he will continue to grow and excel from strength to strength.”

    Babatunde, who could not hide his joy at their new lease of life, courtesy of Chief Ikhide-Johnson, amid smiles, said: “We want to thank Chief Ikhide-Johnson for his generosity towards us. Only a few weeks ago, he renewed our rent again for another three years. He paid N600, 000 just a few days before the expiration of our initial two-year rent. He did not know us from anywhere and had not met with us, yet, he has treated us with enormous benevolence. We would particularly love to see him in person.

    “Although, we had tried to show our appreciation to the man before and we actually sent word to him, but he replied that we should not bother ourselves because he had only done what he did for the sake of our children. Instead, he sent his wife to check on our well-being. We later reliably gathered that he decided to help us after reading our story in your paper. But I believe that someday, we will surely have the opportunity of seeing him in person to say a big thank you to him.

    “There was even a particular day when I was arrested by men of the Lagos State Kick Against Indiscipline (KAI) for hawking in traffic. I would have been jailed if not for the intervention of Chief Ikhide-Johnson, who on learning of my predicament asked Mr. Abiola to facilitate my release by paying the fine imposed on me. But I’ll continue to hustle because I want my wife to manage the store and take care of the babies. Whatever I am able to make from selling items in the traffic would be used to complement the profits made from the business. This would no doubt enable us to take care of the kids’ welfare because they will be starting school shortly as they are now two years and four months old. I am indeed surprised that Sir Ikhide-Johnson, a Christian, could be magnanimous to a Moslem couple like ours and it is a great lesson to those who resent people, especially the needy on the basis of religion.”

    In a rare display of humility, the Arik chairman, as gathered, had turned down the request of a ‘thank you’ visit by the couple.

    It will be recalled that in our follow-up story: “Arik Air chair lifts hawker-couple ‘detained’ over N40,000 medical bill”,  published in the issue of February 26, 2011, Ikhide-Johnson, speaking through his Personal Assistant, Mr. Samuel Abiola, had said that his gesture was purely on humanitarian grounds.

    “It’s God that has done it for them and not me. God has only used me to help them and I don’t want to make a noise of it. What I just want to tell the couple is that they should take care of the kids because they are God’s gifts and blessings. The kids should not in anyway be traded for their needs.

    “My chairman (Arumemi Ikhide-Johnson), after reading The Nation on a Saturday where the story was published, instructed me to locate the whereabouts of the couple to ascertain the veracity of the story. He actually gave me a copy of the newspaper in the evening and I set out on the journey.We arrived at their residence and the rest is now history. But since then, my chairman has not ceased asking after the couple and the wellbeing of their kids.”

    In the follow-up story, Babatunde had cried out for job assistance in order to sustain his family following the free accommodation provided by the Arik boss.

    He said:” While we cannot but appreciate God for this kind of help that we have received from someone we did not know, I must say that we need jobs to keep body and soul together. For now, the paltry N400 I make on a daily basis from hawking sausage rolls is not enough to feed myself, let alone my wife and three kids. The items are given to me on credit, leaving me with a narrow profit margin.”

    Fate had brought the couple together in a rather strange way. Babatunde, a native of Itoko, Abeokuta, Ogun State, who finished his secondary education at Ogba Grammar School, Ikeja, Lagos State, in 2001 lost his father when he was barely five years old, while Fatimah, an indigene of Kwara State, lost both parents at the tender age of two.

    She relocated to Lagos after completing her education at Banni Community Secondary School, Ilorin, in 2003 to stay with her maternal aunt, who is now late. She had initially wanted to proceed in her education but for lack of sponsors, hence, she resorted to hawking on the highway, selling bottled water and beverages at the Berger axis of Lagos-Ibadan Highway. There, she incidentally met Babatunde, who also sells assorted sausage rolls. Both fell in love and it subsequently resulted in pregnancy.

     

  • It takes me one hour before I ejaculate; I need a woman that likes sex

    I have a very long and large thing and I need a woman that needs sex partner. It always takes me 50

    minutes to one hour before I can release. I need a woman that likes sex.

     

    •My brother, your case is similar to that of Ebbi above, so take a cue from it. However, since you are still unattached, you still have enough time to search for the right woman who will not only love sex, but one that will love you as a person. A woman may love sex but not want to be touched by a particular man. It will take love and devotion to be naked with a man on the bed for one hour for at least two to three times every week for the rest of one’s life, or for the rest of the man’s active life. So don’t go looking for only a sexually active woman, look for your soul mate that will accommodate you.

     

  • My parents are against my HIV positive boyfriend

    Hello Aunty, I have this guy that I love so much that I can die for. But he is HIV positive while I am negative

    but he wants to marry me but my parents are against it. I really love him and l love him with all

     my heart. Right now, I am getting mad because of all that is going on and I need your help because I don’t want to lose him. Aunty, please help me.

     

    Hi.

    You were not detailed in your mail to me as I do not know whether your parents are fighting your relationship with this guy because of his HIV status. If that is the case, even the most prominent campaigners for the rights of the people living with HIV wouldn’t agree easily for their HIV-negative children to marry an HIV-positive person. It would take a lot of counseling. In most cases where you have a positive and negative living together happily, they might have been married before discovering the positive status of the other person.

    Parental consent in a marriage relationship is very important in Africa, especially here in Nigeria. If they were kicking against it on grounds such as the guy’s lack of adequate finances or religious grounds, one could always have a way of going around it because in such cases, we can say they are not being considerate. But if it is on health grounds, then you have to be on the same page with them. The parents you fail to listen to today as blood is still pumping to your heart in the name of love may be the ones you will go and cry to later.

    All in all, seek counseling on your expectations and limitations with an HIV positive partner. It is possible to live happily with him and have healthy babies. You however need to be armed with information and education about how to go about it. You may in turn educate your parents so they can see that life continues whether you have HIV or not. Wishing you the best.

  • Where is Ade Dosunmu?

    Where is Ade Dosunmu?

    The million-naira question begging for answer in social circles at the moment is the whereabouts of Dr. Ade Dosunmu, the Lagos State governorship candidate of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) during the 2011 general election. Since he was roundly defeated by Governor Babatunde Raji Fashola in the election, the man, who went to town in the pre-election period flaunting his purported unblemished record in public service and made a big issue of his doctoral degree, has vanished from the social radar.

    When Happenstances sought to know his whereabouts recently, those who had swum around him in the build-up to the election could only speculate. Some said he had gone into private business. Others who should know said he had simply resorted to lying low.

    Be it as it may, the fact remains that he is no longer visible on the social and political space. Since 2015 still appears to be far away, there are fears in Dosunmu’s camp that he may not be favoured with the party’s governorship ticket the second time.

  • ‘Why we arranged our bosses’ kidnap’

    ‘Why we arranged our bosses’ kidnap’

    THREE members of a six-man kidnapping gang allegedly used by a private driver to abduct his madam are now guests of the Special Anti Robbery Squad (SARS) of the Lagos State Police Command.

    Narrating how Wahab allegedly used the gang to kidnap the woman, one of the suspects, Rasheed Ramon, a 30-year-old indigene of Oyo town, said: “I know Mohammed very well as a street friend. We were street boys. Ahmed is a carpenter on Lagos Island. He called me on the phone and said Wahab had given him a job to kidnap his (Wahab’s) boss.

    “Wahab was a driver to the woman. He was sacked and he became a commercial bus driver. He said he would pay me good money.

    “So, sometime in November 2012, six of us, namely Ramond, Rasheed, Ahmed Salau, Lekan, Agbenu, Ahmed Ajanu and Wahab, went to Awoyaya, after Ajah, a suburb of Lagos.

    “The victim deals in designer clothes. Ahmed called the woman and told her that she wanted to give her a job. When the woman arrived at Awoyaya, Ahmed kidnapped her. All of us assisted Ahmed because we came out from where we were hiding and pointed a gun at the woman.

    “Although Wahab used to be the woman’s private driver, on that fateful day, the woman drove herself to the scene of the incident. I wanted to tie the woman’s face with a red cloth but they advised me to leave her like that so that she would not die of shock if she mistook us for ritualists. They said it was better for her to see what we were doing so that she would not develop hypertension, which could result in stroke or sudden death.”

    The second suspect, Olalekan Apena (28), a native of Epe, a suburb of Lagos, said: “I am a private driver to a woman. To be a driver to a woman is the worst job, no matter how much you are paid. Not only will you not be paid well, you will be treated like a houseboy, an errand boy and a rag.

    “It was Wahab who opened our eyes to how to pay back women who treat us as slaves. There are two kidnap cases here. The first one was organised by Wahab to kidnap his madam. The second operation was organised by me, but it was in the same area, the same method and the same hideout.

    “Ahmed Ajanu organised the kidnap of Mrs Owoduni Bukky. She is an insurance worker. She is my madam. I drive her every day and she pays me N30,000 monthly with no free accommodation or feeding.

    “I am a mere domestic driver to her. She uses me as she likes. Even to go to market, she would call me to drive her. She would ask me to carry anything she bought to the car. I alone would do the loading and offloading. I work for her from 6 am to 10 pm.

    “I was the one who brought the job. I told Raymond to kidnap my madam and I revealed to him that her husband has a lot of money but both of them are very stingy. Any time I begged them for money, they refused, even when I had pressing problems.

    “To show you how heartless they are, the woman travelled abroad one time and the husband drove me away from the house. He told me to go and do something to help myself since his wife had travelled abroad and would stay for more than one month. He said I would not be paid anything for the period she would not be around. I had to find my way to keep body and soul together. That led me to go to the place where I started driving caterpillar.

    “Although I was paid N30,000 monthly for driving caterpillar, the pains my body experienced are worrying me till today. There was no way the woman cared to help me as her private driver. She does not even pick my calls whenever I call her for financial assistance, knowing full well that her husband has a lot of money.

    “On that fateful day, Ahmed called the woman on the phone and said there was a job he wanted to give her, which would yield millions of naira. When she came, Ahmed told her to wait for the men who would give her the job. When the men arrived, they turned out to be kidnappers who held her and forced her to follow them to Ebowo area, a community in Ogun State.

    “Ahmed later called the husband with the woman’s phone. The husband brought two point something million naira. We later released the woman and shared the ransom. I got N300,000, Rasheed Ramoni got N400,000, Ahmed Salau got N300,000. I lent them N40,000 earlier for mobilisation, which they refunded.

    “It was along Ijebu-Ode Road that they dropped the money for us to pick. The second kidnapping job was brought by Wahab. He is a private driver to a woman. It was the same system we used because it was the same gang that did the job. Knowing that the victim deals in cakes and meat pie, Ahmed called her and told her that there was work for her.

    “When she came, all of us came out and Ramon showed her a gun and told her to comply with our instructions. It was Olalekan who took over the woman’s steering and we drove to Ibowo side and dumped the woman in a bush.

    “We spread a mat for her after clearing the bush to make the place neat. She refused to eat the delicious food we bought for her, thinking that we wanted to drug her.

    “When Ahmed contacted her husband on the phone that night, he said he would call us in the morning. After two hours, we suspected that keeping his response till morning might be a ploy to contact the police to arrest us despite the warning issued to him not to contact the police if he wanted to see his wife alive. In order to avoid any surprise attack from the police, we decided to relocate to a place unknown to her husband.

    “As we started to move out of the place, the vigilance men on duty saw us and suspected us. When they asked us to identify ourselves, the woman shouted: “They are kidnappers! Save me! They have a gun! As she was shouting, the vigilance men locked the tube and tyre, making the car to be motionless. Before we knew it, three of my members had dashed into the bush and disappeared. Those of us who could not escape were arrested and handed over to the police in Epe and later to Akodo Police Station before we were later transferred to SARS. SARS operatives later arrested Olalekan.

    “It was by the grace of God that I survived the beatings from vigilance men. I did not know that I would survive because they beat Ramon and I like antelopes who had missed their way. They used iron and hard wood to hit us all over the body, not minding whether we would die or not. We were bleeding profusely before they handed us over to the police.”

    The third suspect, Olalekan Apena (27), said it was only one operation that he participated in. Said he: “We were six in number. When the woman shouted that we were kidnappers, I knew that the vigilance men would come after us and could slaughter all of us if we allowed them to capture us. As she was shouting, I jumped out of the car into the bush and ran for my dear life.

    “Unfortunately, my colleagues who were arrested were handed over to SARS. I became afraid and did not know where to run to. I was arrested in my house after I had spent three days at Awoyaya”.

     

  • And the circus begins… (1)

    Feelers from the political scene in recent times, indicate that the ‘battle’ for 2015 has begun in earnest. I use the military term usually associated with warfare because as many in this country would attest to, politics here is like war. And like most battlefields, it’s not a place for the weak and lily-livered.

    Anyway, the politicians have stirred from the self-imposed short break they took after the last general elections in 2011 and are gearing up for the next one. The scheming, underground deals and the other things associated with politicking in Nigeria have started. Already, some casualties in this political battlefield have begun to emerge. Last week, the National Secretary of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), Prince Olagunsoye Oyinlola was removed by a Federal High Court in Abuja, a move that some political observers see as a fall-out of the alleged cold war brewing between President Goodluck Jonathan and his erstwhile godfather, former President Olusegun Obasanjo.

    As for the ex-military leader and two time Head of State, its obvious that the old warhorse is up to his old tricks and shenanigans again. When he left office in 2007, I cannot remember Nigerians holding a referendum to pick him as the undisputed kingmaker in the country. But Obasanjo as everyone knows, is like a man with a drum beating in his head- he picks his own tune and he dances to it energetically, unmindful of whether others around him like the music or not. In other words, he does not care about others opinions and does whatever he wants to do, at any cost. He has assumed that role with his usual abraggadocio and domineering ways.

    Now, his body language and reports from various quarters show that he’s shopping for a new ‘prince’ to crown in the next political dispensation, having allegedly fallen out with his beloved godson, Jonathan. In this quest, the feelings and desires of the majority of the citizens for good governance that will usher in progress and prosperity in the country, do not count. What Obasanjo wants, Aremu gets.

    And there lies the tragedy of this country. For far too long, the political leaders have been grossly unfair to Nigerians. All the scheming and deals struck at those clandestine meetings they usually hold during ‘vampire hours’ (that is at midnight or early hours) are all geared towards one thing: self. It’s all about self-interest, self-aggrandizement, self-preservation and other pecuniary reasons. To this lot, the word ‘people’ which democracy is all about, does not exist.

    In fact, the ancient Greeks who invented this form of governance would shake their heads in wonder at the manner in which our politicians have re-invented democracy. Here, it’s more like, ‘government of the ruling class, for the ruling class and by the ruling class.’ But for how long can this state of affairs be sustained? Not too long because the dire consequences of such mis-governance, which is an abnormality in the first place, are becoming too glaring to ignore.

    The rate of poverty, unemployment, hunger and other unfortunate fall-outs of bad governance and misuse of resources have reached crisis level. The only way to turn the tide is to put the people back in democracy.

    This has been harped on for years by activists, civil society groups, the media and other concerned Nigerians alarmed at the way the country is being run. But most of our politicians, drunk on the power, money and other perks of their high offices have grown blind and deaf to the cries of the long-suffering citizens which have reached the heavens itself. Like Nero, who played music on his fiddle while ancient Rome burnt, the politicians are too busy enjoying these perks to care about the common man.

    As some say, it will take a miracle for these people to listen or change. But listen they must because the alternative is too harrowing to contemplate.

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Touch of Fate (2)

    Don, what’s the matter? Are you alright?” Helen asked worriedly.

    He did not respond but closed his eyes and placed his right hand on his brow. After a while, he opened his eyes and spoke.

    I’m ok. I’ve been taking these malaria drugs and they make me feel dizzy at times,” he explained.

    “Sorry about that. Maybe you should go home and rest. We could always hang out some other time,” she said, still looking worried.

    He shook his head, insisting he was fine.

    They chatted for a while with Helen doing most of the talking while he listened, a pensive look on his face.

    Before parting that night, he promised to call in a few days so they go out on another date.

    “I’ve enjoyed our time together. Let’s do this again,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek before she alighted from his car in front of her house.

    About a week later, when she did not hear from him, she called his mobile.

    “I was worried that maybe you had not recovered from the malaria,” she stated. “So, how are you feeling now?” she enquired.

    He told her he was alright but had been unable to contact her due to work commitments. But Don knew in his heart that that was not the whole truth. Much as he liked her and wanted to see more of her, he had decided to keep away for certain reasons which he could not explain to her.

    “Actually, I have an invite for you,” Helen said, adding, “One of our executive directors at the bank is retiring soon and a party is being planned for him next week. It’s at the Ritz Hotel and it’s going to be a classy do. I want you to be my date for the evening.”

    His initial reaction was to decline, but hearing her sweet voice again and realizing how much he had missed her, he accepted.

    The party turned out to be a glitzy affair as Helen had predicted. Mr Thompson, the director that was leaving, who was a Briton, was one of the pioneer staff of the bank when it was established some decades earlier. Some of the top officials of the bank including the M.D, some directors and senior management staff were in attendance. There was lots to eat and drink and plenty of speeches as well.

    “Nice party,” Don said some time later. They were taking a walk by the hotel pool. Inside the hall, a live band was playing and some of the usually serious minded bankers were letting their hair down and grooving to the beats.

    “You can go back and continue with your dancing if you want,” she suggested, sitting on a chair by the pool. He had danced with a couple of her colleagues including the loquacious Tina who had been clinging onto him all evening. Due to her leg injury, she could not dance and had sat watching the couples on the dance floor a bit enviously.

    “No. I’m cool. It was getting a bit stuffy inside,” he said, sitting by her. They sat in silence for a while, taking in the scenery and savouring the cool, fresh air.

    Then turning to him, she said:

    “I know you might say it’s none of my business. But you told me the other day that you called off your wedding to the lady you were planning to marry a week to the day. What really happened?”

    He sighed, before telling her a tale of infidelity and betrayal.

    “I caught her in bed with my best friend. He was someone I trusted so much and we were like brothers. He was to be my best man at the wedding. I just couldn’t get over the betrayal of trust especially on her part. It put me off relationships for a long while,” he stated quietly.

    She reached for his hand and held it.

    “What a sad story,” she noted. “These things happen. I have some horror relationship tales as well,” she added. And she went on to tell him about her last boyfriend who turned out to be a fraudster. “He claimed to be a businessman, an importer of computers and accessories. One day, he told me he had secured a contract at a government ministry to supply computers worth about N100 million. He begged me to use my connection at the bank to secure a loan to import the items,” Helen narrated. It was while the loan application was being processed, she added that a colleague who knew someone at the ministry made enquiries concerning the contract.

    “It was then the truth was revealed- there was no contract! He wanted to dupe the bank and disappear abroad with the money once he had received it. Of course I ended the relationship! The most painful thing was that instead of showing remorse for his misdeeds, he wrote me a terrible letter. He called me all kinds of names including a cripple, disclosing that the only reason he dated me, was because of my job- as I could facilitate his access to bank loans easily. Can you imagine that?” she said.

    “He was a very bad person. Thank God you found out about him on time,” Don stated.

    “Yes. It was a lucky escape for me. As his guarantor, I would have ended up being saddled with repaying the money. Where will I see such a huge amount of money to pay back to the bank? “ she wondered.

    “You know, we are two of a kind, been through so much heartache…” Don said, holding her by the shoulder and drawing her close.

    “Yes,” she intoned, resting her head on his shoulder…

     

    The revelation

    After that night, they saw regularly for the next couple of months. And soon, a relationship blossomed between them. To Don, it was never part of his plan to get so close to her but try as he could, he could not stay away from her. There was something about her that kept drawing him to her and it got to a point where he stopped trying to resist. He had fallen in love and there was no point denying it. Besides, he found in Helen some of the qualities he had always wanted in a woman- she was caring, loving and faithful. After the incident with his ex-fiancé, he wanted a woman he could trust and he saw that in Helen.

    About eight months after they started dating, Don proposed to her one evening at his home. Though she had been expecting something like that from hints he had been dropping, Helen still looked surprised when she saw the ring he had slipped on her third finger.

    “It’s so beautiful!” she enthused, then added. “Of course I will marry you, darling! At least that will stop Tina from trying to snatch you from me.”

    After things had quietened down a bit, they sat making tentative plans for their wedding.

    “But Don,” Helen stated some time later, “Much as I love you and want to be your wife and I suspected you were going to propose, I thought maybe, you would wait for sometime…”

    “Wait for what?” he asked.

    “For us to get to know each other better. We’ve not even been dating for up to a year,” she noted.

    “Baby, what more do I need to know about you? Afterall, I’ve known you since you were a little girl like this,” he said, raising his hand to indicate the height of a ten year old child.

    “Don! That’s not true! I was not as small as that!” she said heatedly.

    “You were!” he insisted, laughing at her.

    She picked up one of the empty bottles of red wine on the table they had drunk to celebrate their engagement.

    “Say that again and I will hit you with this,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

    He jumped up from the couch and standing at a safe distance, repeated his earlier statement about her height, his hand raised at the same angle.

    “Ah! Somebody is going to join his ancestors today!” she shouted, getting up to run after him, the bottle raised in a threatening manner…

    * * * *

    It was about a month to the wedding. Preparations were in top gear and like most brides-to-be, Helen was excited about the coming nuptials. One evening at his apartment, they sat going over the guest list on Don’s computer. It was growing longer by the day and Helen was trying to prune it to a reasonable figure.

    “It’s too long. I think 300 is a more reasonable number,” she said, scrolling down the list of names.

    “You are right. Well, you take care of it. I’m going to see Patrick about the groomsmen’s outfits,” he stated, picking his car keys from the side table. Patrick was going to be his best man at the wedding.

    After he had left, she worked on the list for a while. She was saving the document in a folder when something attracted her attention. She clicked on the file and began reading it. At the end, she sat staring at the screen, too stupefied to move.

    Could this be true? Or was she dreaming? How could it be? That her own Don, the love of her life, the man she was planning to marry was the one who had been driving the night of the accident back in school that had left her nearly crippled? But it was all there- the details of what had happened that night; the party, the drive back to the campus, hitting her and abandoning her by the roadside half-dead, wounded, bleeding, unconscious…

    It was in his private files which she had stumbled upon by chance. In a way she was glad, the truth was out. But on the other hand, she wished fervently that she had remained ignorant of the truth and had continued in her dreams and hopes for the future that now suddenly looked so bleak.

    “Baby, I’m back. How is the list coming up?” Don said as he walked in through the front door. But he was stopped in his tracks by the strange look in her eyes- a mixture of despair, anger, disappointment and hopelessness…

    To be continued

     

    •With this revelation, things can definitely not be the same between the lovers. What next? Don’t miss the juicy details next Saturday!

    •Names have been changed to protect the characters’ identities

     

    •Send comments/suggestions to psaduwa@yahoo.com or 08023201831.