Danfo Chronicles: When masquerades go to church and gays become criminals

It was a few years ago, at the time citizen news reportage was gaining traction across the nation, that news of masquerades meting out corporal punishment on miniskirt and trouser wearing young ladies somewhere in the Nsukka  axis reached social media.

As usual, the Nigerian social media reacted true to type with that outpouring of anger that occurs whenever vestiges of the ‘devilish’ past of our ancestors appear to be in conflict with the sacred untouchable manifestations of the new religion.

Caught up in outrage, most of us missed the big story, which was not that masquerades enforced a dress code, but that this dress code stemmed originally from the Christian church.

What Mr President should do

Image via Wikipedia

I have always felt Goodluck Ebele Jonathan might be the wrong sort of president for Nigeria.

The peculiarities of the Nigerian experience, I felt, are too diverse and complex to be left in the care of a man whose past experiences show that he lacks the kind of strong will leadership of a country like Nigeria so clearly needs.

My misgiving about the man and his antecedents was shared by many, but our numbers were not enough to keep him from winning a largely free and fair election.

Those misgivings of mine have proven to be justified, as he seems not to realise the enormous power he wields as president of a regional super power. He has tried to act, but only succeeds in appearing more helpless to stop Nigeria’s gradual slide to anarchy.

Truth be told, President Jonathan did not cause much of the problem he is saddled with now. It has been said that the man means well for the country and has himself said it is his desire to leave the country better than he met it. He has even, a first for Nigeria, declared that he will not run for a second term.

Perhaps the man may go on to become successful as a president all the same; perhaps his self-professed good intentions will become clear to Nigerians. While all that reside in the realm of speculation, what is clear is that Nigerians are largely unhappy with their president.

Even those who still hang on to the notion of him being a messiah with a divine mandate to rescue Nigeria feel Goodluck Jonathan is missing in action, though they believe his failure for effective leadership stems from the fact that he had surrounded himself with the wrong sort of people.

On Friday, January 20, 2012, Boko Haram fighters overran Kano and held the ancient city to ransom for hours on end. They killed hundreds, destroyed properties, threw the populace into a heightened state of panic and disappeared.

The attack was a new angle to the ever-shifting Boko Haram mode of operation, a new vista of the reach and bloodlust of a sect whose insurgency have been said to have started as a localised conflict between them and allegedly heavy-handed police officers.

While it would not be right to blame the president for the acts of a sect that has defied coherent definition and who have rebuffed every call for dialogue, it is right to blame him for not doing enough to safeguard Nigerians within the borders of a country that is the regional power broker.

Why him? Some may ask.

Well, because he is the president and the buck stops smack on his extra-large desk.

So far, Jonathan’s media managers have made a very big mess of the simple job of reading the mood of the nation and making sure the president understands it and articulates the right kind of response. Perhaps they misunderstand the issues themselves or are still caught up in that stale system of governance that underestimates the intelligence quotient of the average Nigerian.

Examples of these gaffes abound, whether we look at the erstwhile-celebrated presidential spokesperson Reuben Abati’s insult in the face of the Kano carnage (“seven people dead” he said, when the body count is in hundreds) or the attempt by Information Minister Labaran Maku and co to sell the fuel subsidy bullshit to Nigerians.

I understand what Goodluck Jonathan is facing, maybe just a little but that should suffice here. I know how difficult it is for one to function effectively as a leader when people who feel they are your superior intellectually and those who may have played big roles in ensuring your electoral victory surround you. It is worse when the wishes of those “powers” differ from yours and when hurting them may spell more trouble than you can handle.

The president needs to understand that no matter the route he took to get to where he is now, no matter the role played by any individual, he is there and that is the status quo. The nature of that position places him above everyone else, as he is the lord of the land until the next election. He wields enormous powers; he is in charge and should be seen to be thus. The only people he needs to answer to are the Nigerian people.

Going forward, the president needs to take more proactive measures, seek advice beyond the traditional channels.

He needs to, as a matter of urgency, suspend the Minister for Petroleum and ensure investigations into that rotten-through sector, which remains the mainstay of the Nigerian economy and the centre of corruption.

He needs to start a process that will overhaul the nation’s security apparatus, moving them from job creation agencies to the professional bodies they should rightfully be. Besides there are too many uniforms in Nigeria, all doing the very same thing.

Bottom-line, Nigeria is in dire need of a comprehensive overhaul, and Goodluck Jonathan should be man enough to begin the process. Let us for the first time in its history see Nigeria work right.

This is a version of my article on Jonathan's failings as a leader published by Daily Times Nigeria here
For the raw, uncut and lengthier version, go here

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Why I am occupying Nigeria

This is a rant, with which I aim to show how the governance of Nigeria has personally affected me and why I do not have faith in our so-called leaders.

I never expected that a time would come when I would have to explain why I am against the government that runs my country. This is because since I got old enough to analyse and understand what governance is all about, I have not found a Nigerian government that I can wholeheartedly say I am in total support of.

Even as a child, I saw many of the people that purportedly lead us for what they were—selfish men and women who are more concerned about the size of their bank balance than the diminishing returns that has characterised the country for years. From my first vote, cast in the 1999 presidential elections that brought in Olusegun Obasanjo, I have continuously voted against PDP and its band of nation wreckers. In other words, I have always been part of those that occupied the mindset that until we do away with PDP and any politician that have had lengthy involvement with that party, the nation will continue with the downward spiral.

I boldly stand this ground today, occupying and unwilling to back down, because the history of this country and my experience as a patriotic law abiding Nigerian is riff with examples of how insincere and roguishly criminal people in government can be.

As a child, visiting my grandmother in the foot hills of Obeagu, Awgu LGA, Enugu state, the songs of otanishi—a play of the word austerity using an Igbo word that loosely translates as head-biting, or a sting to the head, referencing the austerity measures introduced by the Shagari administration—was one of the lasting memories I took away. The refrain of “otanishi egbu’go anyi o, ka’anyi’changie shagari o, o ’iwe di anyi na obi, iwe!—austerity has killed us, let’s change Shagari, anger is in our hearts, anger” rings in my head to this day.

As a kid attending primary school in Kaduna during the heady IBB days, I still recall the much-vaunted structural adjustment program (SAP) and how it was supposed to only bite for a while, but the bite lasted longer than was promised and continues to this day.

Even though still just a child in 1993, I still remember with pride how my dad and his friends would argue endlessly about the merits of an MKO presidency and how SAP will finally be laid to a well-deserved rest. Well, what happened to that expectation is well documented and Nigerians continued the speculations of my father and his friends to this day.

For decades, I heard promises of reform that never materialised; promises of good life that still eludes us; promises of increased opportunity that goes no further than the vile mouth that issues them; promises of better education in the face of increasingly ridiculous and never actualised education policies, and can’t help but snicker at the promise of a coming magic year that constantly kept being officially moved forward as each one loomed.

While sitting on the floor, in primary school, listening to a teacher chalk away at the ancient blackboard in Army Children School New Cantonment “A”, I exactly believed that was how life was meant to be, that sitting on the floor is normal and that that it is our lot. I thought so, even though the Command Children School that shared the same compound, and which two of my siblings—using my dad’s old army ID and resultant quota—were fortunate to attend, had desks, better-dressed students who eat cake at break time and more teachers. I thought so because I felt Command Children School and others like it were for academically gifted children who needed more care than we do. Anyway, even the Command Children Schools of those days were not too much removed from us—aside from having more desks and those juicy cakes, yes I tasted them for my now late brother used to sneak into our zinc and wood classroom to share with me.

True we saw standard classrooms in the few movies we got to watch and in Sesame Street, but that was another life, one of fantasy, one that belonged to the TVs we escape to at 4pm. I also felt there was nothing wrong with there being two sections of the same school, one for morning, and another for afternoon. Yeah, Command Children School had only one morning section, but that was ok, they are more brilliant kids, they don’t need to go to school under the morning sun. Can’t remember much what I learnt in primary school, other than the best way to play dead during the game of police and thief. Mind you, I learnt to read and write from my father, who also taught me elementary mathematics, and much of what I know about maths to this day.

Secondary School was worse; I got to go to Government College Kaduna, a very popular secondary school renowned for its past glory because my father could not afford the better private ones that were just then beginning to spring up.

There, the sitting on bare floors was worse, especially with our uniform being white on white. We also had to go to school in the afternoon, at least those of us in the junior section had to. The memories I have of junior secondary school were of not having teachers and spending the day playing fives or shooting pigeons with catapults in the school’s extensive vegetation. Yeah, the chairs did come—think I was in JSS 2 then—from Buhari and other alumni. As for teachers, nothing changed until we entered SS 1, extremely under-educated and most barely able to string English words together without blunders. I must add that we had no teacher for mathematics and English the entire duration of our Junior Secondary miss-Education.

I was lucky; yes, I was, for I had inherited the love for books from my father and a fight, its resultant punishment and a kindly librarian who supervised the dusty task of sweeping the school library introduced me to a world far removed from the one I know. I began reading, garnered knowledge on my own and managed to make the best out of a very bad situation. I was not alone in this, and those of us who learnt anything from Government College Kaduna, did so on our own.

Then came the battle to enter university, a mighty struggle for us half-baked secondary school graduates. We struggled, paid for extra lessons and read until our eyes watered until the university doors opened and swallowed us. Back then examination malpractice in the form that it is today was the preserve of those who can afford it and you only steal from those you feel know more than you, unfortunately, I fell into the group that were presumed to know, so I didn’t get to steal from anyone.

My stay in the university was marked by increase in school fees. I got admitted in 1999 and paid N1600 (one thousand six hundred naira) as a fresher, by the time I left five years later in 2004, school fees was N17, 500 (seventeen thousand five hundred Naira). Math understandably never became my thing, so let someone else do the maths on percentage increase over a four-year period. I can’t recall how many strikes from the Academic Staff Union of Universities occurred while I was an under-educated undergraduate, but I know it was enough to add an extra year to my four course.

The story of how I eventually got a job and the struggles and anguish in between will be better told in the future, but the fact that as an editor of a magazine and with a salary many times over the recently reviewed minimum wage, I still find it very impossible to survive month to month. I don’t have vices and have learnt from my years of struggle to respect money, yet I can’t afford a tokunbo car on my salary or a house big enough for my family, not to talk of taking proper care of them.

I am a half-baked Nigerian graduate, all my life the Nigerian government has not shown it cared I exist or that I have a stake in this country they claim is ours. Therefore, until I am assured that my children will not pass through the same hard route I did to get here, I shall continue to occupy.

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The politics of bombs and voters wooing

It is election season in Nigeria. Surely, everyone – even those not usually concerned about things of that nature – must know that. Constant adverts on TV, Billboards and posters, pasted on buildings and streetlights – which by the way, break the very law politicians swear to uphold – make sure ones attention – no matter how unwilling – is drawn in and held.

Just like Christmas spirit afflicts the very air, election fever chokes the very essence of the country. The main actors, those who have more stake in the scheme of things – those a seasoned writer, whose name is jumbled with hundreds of other names – great and not – in the recess of my mind, called “the political class” – are out in force. Like in the not-too-distance past, they are all jostling for the right to govern our very existence, to impose their will us for another four years – which essentially, is what leadership in these climes entail.

Though the fever is yet to peak, the usual bloodletting, which many had hoped would not play out this time around, has already claimed Nigerian lives. Early March, at a PDP rally in Suleja, Niger State, Nigeria, the culture of indiscriminate bombing – Middle East style – was introduced to the Nigerian political equation.  This new tactic is a very clear departure from the old method of eliminating opponents via assassinations. Opponents, it would seem, are still the target of this new tactic, which appear to be an indirect attempt to scare away potential voters.

In suleja, 10 lives were untimely sent to the greater beyond. For what? Does stopping the election of one man justify the taking of human lives? NO! I say, not by a long shot.

While I do not seek to hold brief for the crop of people that call themselves politicians in Nigeria, who mostly lack a sustainable plan to move even a small local government forward, not to talk of a state or the Nigerian nation, it is imperative that we reassess ourselves. We need to call to mind those core values that used to be our bastion – whatever happened to being our brother’s keeper – and I very much doubt if there is any glory in planting bombs that go off when the perpetrator(s) is too far away to be harmed. That, I believe, is the height of cowardice.

There is no gainsaying the fact that the perpetrator(s) of this and similar heinous crimes against the Nigerian nation need to face hard-hitting justice, at least now we have the anti-terrorism law in effect, some examples need to be set.

This assertion should not read as exonerative to either opposition forces. Violence, it seems, is one thing the Nigerian politicians do not have in short supply. They swagger around during campaigns with a “do or die” mien that signals their intention to take on all comers. They buy thugs indiscriminately and sponsor same to follow them around in motorcades that remind one more of an all-conquering army advancing against enemies, than a peaceful political movement heading to actualise our collective dreams. The bitter truth is, if they devote half the resources they put into seeking for votes and strategising new rigging methods into the job of governance, Nigeria would be a much better place to live in.

The present state of Nigeria calls for us all to not just be onlookers. We should do more than pray for change, we should make change happen. The Nigerian youths have already proven that they have the power to make things work for them in a very oppressive environment, need I point out the growth of the Nigerian Movie, Music, comedy industry, and upcoming, the literary arts. Perhaps it’s time we transfer this ingenuity to the political arena, by not just voting in the right leaders, but constantly snapping at their heels to keep them on the right track thereafter.

first published in www.dailytimesng.com


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My thoughts on the current Niger delta crisis

Stumbled on an opinion piece  I wrote at the height of the militancy problem in the Niger Delta last year. Think it is still relevant...

My thoughts on the current Niger delta crisis

A whole lot have been said on the Niger delta crisis, governments have come and gone but this situation have persisted, for too long government and Nigerians have been held to ransom by a faceless group of so-called freedom fighters and militants. They have killed, burned and kidnapped hundreds of people and have recently effectively turned Nigeria into a kidnap haven only second to Mexico.

The money that has exchanged hands in the course of this crisis is enough to address the issues raised by the so-called militants. Granted, the oil explorations have caused untold hardships and environmental degradations, also the dividends of the crude is diverted to other well connected pockets while the goose that continues laying the golden egg is left root in abject poverty of want.

The so-called militants moved from being that to terrorists long ago. I believe that it is the lack of political will that have allowed them to thrive, that and the meddling in governance by greedy politicians and business men, who in my opinion should be lined up and shot. To move forward as a country we need to take our destiny into our hands and do away with all the money loving politicians and terrorists gabbed in the toga of freedom fighters.

I say destroy all the camps, capture all the leaders and find out from them who their godfathers are (yes they all have godfathers in Abuja) and let them all face the justice of the gun.

Why give them clemency to loot, steal, and then kill again? Why allow their godfathers to further subjugate the Nigerian nation? Why create a ministry to siphon more money into already heavy pockets.

Now we hear they killed some army officers in an unprovoked attack. Why won’t they attack soldiers when the government invites their leaders to Abuja for lunch and dangle a very big carrot of clemency before their painted faces.

We should see these boys for what they are, jobless youths who took the path of crime to earn a living that rivals that of senators. We should also see their political and businessmen sponsors for what they really are, mean mindless men who are so deep in corruption, they organize the oil bunkering that is ongoing while they lie back in posh air conditioned offices, sipping French wines.

I am tired of hearing the same sad story, I don’t want to pander to their whims and allow my nation suffer, I don’t want to wait anymore to let the truth be known, I want to make a difference and make sure it works, not hoping it works. Let’s move forwards together and allow this season of madness pass for ever.

As for the so-called militants, I am tired of their constant threats and kidnappings, I am tired of their constant killings and disruptions of oil flow by blowing up pipelines, I am tired of their blatant hypocrisy.

They are not the only wronged parties in Nigeria. If they must know, any Nigerian who is making do without good roads, constant electricity, portable drinking water, a good job and decent housing, is also missing I action.

Ok now, let us all rise up to bomb Nigeria! Stupid!

As for the army, I am sorry it took the deaths of senior officers for you to rise up to your responsibility, but the deed is done and any right thinking person will tell you to weed out the rotten eggs and not bomb entire communities in the search for elusive militants, whose sponsors obviously eat and dine with the powers that sent you to war.

For the oil companies, I think it is time we drive all of you out and find indigenous companies that can do your job. Oh! You think we cannot. Mind you, it is our people that work for you; I bet they know the job terrain better than your expatriate staffs in air-conditioned offices.

Thinking about it, I could not find a foreign oil company operating in America, abi them self no get oil? Shell na dutch company abi? How many oil Holland get?

As for the political class we have now, I have said before that, they should all be lined up and shot! With the exception of the very few good eggs amongst them anyway, only it will be very hard to know them since the system always find a way to corrupt the virtuous, see how Dora don dey miss yarn!

What am I doing? Well…I am writing a comprehensive novel set in the Niger delta. I have given it the title Rivers of blood. I am looking at all the possible situations and people, I will not spare anyone and I will kill all who needs killing while staying with the story. I will look at arms smuggling and the bunkering, I will look into environmental degradation and its effects on the locals, I will talk about the love lives of the militants and the people they kidnap, above all, I will tell a tale that is as truthful as fiction can get. I hope that it will open people’s eyes to the truth, but I will not take up arms to fight my government…yet.

N/B

If you are safely anchored in an air-conditioned office, drive around and air conditioned car after waking up in an air-conditioned office, I doubt if the reality of a stuffy mosquito infested shack will readily come to your mind. If it does, it is probably as a shivery horror that is someone else’s nightmare. How wrong can I be?