Remembering The Chibok 200

We do not know the exact number of girls that were abducted from their school in Chibok on the morning of 15^th of April 2014. Two weeks after, our governments, local, state or national have not been able to carry out a thorough audit and come up with the right figures. What we know however is that after the ‘Ides of March 2014’, came what will probably be a watershed for this country, the forceful abduction of about 200 young, innocent teenage girls from their school in Chibok by Boko Haram. We also know that, two weeks later, we do not know where they are or what has happened to them.

We know that a day before their abduction, Boko Haram planted a bomb at a bus garage in Abuja that killed about 80 people and maimed many more. (We have no exact figures of the killed and maimed either). We know that after these terrible killings, our president visited the site of the bomb blast. Less than 24 hours later, and in what will go down in history as probably one of the most insensitive moves of all time, he flew into Kano for a political rally where he danced, sang and made political jibes when the mood of the nation was that of mourning. He also visited Ibadan for a birthday celebration along with the Senate President. We were aghast and found no words to explain this utter disrespect for the dead and their families. We also know that whilst the President was dancing in Kano, the girls had been abducted and were being forcibly driven to Sambisa Forest.

We know that there is no national mourning for the bomb victims, or a coherent, sensitive and galvanising strategy to handle the abduction of the girls beyond the empty, cheap and emotionless rhetoric from the lips of the cheap, clueless politicians we have come to painfully bear. We are probably the only country in the world where the abduction of 200 school girls would not call for a national emergency. It is not rocket science to realise that this is probably the most incompetent and heartless government in our history.

But this is not the point of this essay. The tragedy of the current situation in Nigeria is that our mindless government has somehow infected the populace with the mindlessness virus. It appears Nigerians in all walks of life have gone to sleep over the abductions. Just like the government, our newspapers and media do not have a strategy to continue to place the issue at the forefront of our national discourse either. Parties and partying have continued unabated and many of our churches have gone ahead with their mindless ‘wealth transfer’ and other ludicrous seminars. Our youths are more concerned about the sacking of David Moyes and the exploits of Chelsea in the Champions League. Perhaps, we behave this way because most Nigerians feel inadequate and powerless to do anything. Whatever the reason may be, our mindlessness is mind-blowing, and it is a tragedy that we have degenerated this far.

So this essay is about the girls. It’s an appeal not to soon forget them. Let’s not infect our children with the same virus of indifference and insensitivity that has eaten us up. Let us do what we can. Let us, in our schools, churches and mosques organise programmes that will keep the girls to mind until they are found. Let’s do the same in our companies and organisations. Let us show Boko Haram they have gone too far this time. Let us show our incompetent leaders and government too that, unlike them, we are sensitive to the families of the abducted. Let us concentrate our minds on the Chibok 200 even if our government, media, political and religious leaders do otherwise.

Somehow, I have this very funny feeling that the abduction of these girls is going to be a watershed that will define Nigeria in a way we cannot fathom. Things are never going to be the same again. 

I sincerely hope and pray that the girls, whatever their number, are found safe and well. PostcardfromLagos

The Ides of March 2014 and Goodluck Jonathan’s Deathly Body Language of Indifference

I didn't vote for Goodluck Jonathan in 2011. I didn't see anything ‘there’ for which to vote. I wasn't fooled by his impassioned speech of “I was not born rich” (which by the way, he pronounced the ‘ch factor’ way). I wasn’t prepared either to go with the argument, that he should earn my vote because, like me, he is a Christian from Southern Nigeria. Although the music for his expensive 2011 TV adverts was excellent, l knew leaders are not elected on the strength of their TV plugs.

I suppose people vote to elect leaders for various reasons.  Mine is very simple; you win my vote by being a visionary. It was evident Goodluck Jonathan couldn’t articulate one, and that to me meant he was not qualified. Interestingly, I was not hopelessly disheartened after he won the election. I retracted to the Nigerian pseudo-religious type that no one could be king without the knowledge of the Almighty. As a result of this, I began to hope that he would succeed, I hoped he would pull up a surprise and put people like me to shame.

So here we are in March 2014, I am still hoping, but unable to rid from my mind the stare-you-in-the-eyes fact that Feb/March 2014 witnessed Boko Haram’s fiercest and probably most vicious attack on Nigeria’s young, women and vulnerable. It was this period that the dreaded terrorist group slaughtered 59 students in their school in Yobe and killed hundreds in the markets. In most decent societies, the President would lead the country in mourning the dead, especially because the killings happened close on the heels of each other. Not so in Goodluck Jonathan’s Nigeria. A few days after the massacres, our President proceeded with a lavish gala to celebrate the centenary of Nigeria’s amalgamation. He invited ‘the great and the good’ perhaps, one should say ‘the ugly and the bad’. They dined on the graves of the students killed in Yobe and those of the mothers and children beheaded in the villages surrounding Maiduguri.

March was also the month that the President honoured every dictator who had ruled Nigeria including the despotic Abacha who reigned with terror between 1993 and 1998.  It was at the same event that Babangida, who institutionalised corruption in Nigeria, had the effrontery to suggest that young people of today should emulate people like him.

March was the month that 16 young Nigerians died when hundreds of thousands of Nigerian youths, like lambs being led into slaughter, were inhumanely invited to stadiums across the country, ostensibly, to sit for a qualifying examination into the Nigerian Immigration Service (NIS). We now know better. 710,000 applicants were processed for a derisory 5000 places. At 1000 naira per head, the people who oversaw the exercise made 710 million naira. Add to that 3000 naira per head that participants were made to pay to buy white shorts and vest that they had to wear at the event (heavens know why), that’s another 2.3 billion naira that lined their pockets. This was the real reason Abba Boro, the Minister for Internal Affairs would risk the lives of many vulnerable, unemployed Nigerians. Worse still, and typical of this presidency and many Nigerian leaders, the heartless Minister came on television and announced that the young men and women died because they were impatient. What a cheek? Goodluck Jonathan of course is ‘monitoring’ the situation. His best reaction was to announce automatic employment for victims’ family. Less than two weeks later, he’d gone to Rome to visit the Pope. We all know that Italy had had its fair share of economic and political turbulence in recent years. We also know that after the fiddling of Nero, Italian leaders knew better to stay in Rome to fix things. However, in Nigeria, Nero Jonathan goes to Rome to see the Pope whilst the country burns.

March 2014 was the month of three different fuel scarcity periods, each lasting almost one week. Fuel scarcity means long queues, long traffic, and long-suffering masses.

March was the month that Fayose - disgraced from office in 2006 for ruining Ekiti State and still facing corruption charges was selected as the governorship candidate in the upcoming election for the same state by the President’s party. PDP wants to win the state at all costs; all the better even if it takes an alleged fraudster and known thug to do this for them.

March 2014 was the month Diezani Allison Maduekwe’s 10 billion Naira jet scandal broke. Apparently the Minister of Petroleum, one of the closest allies of the President had been spending €500,000 monthly to maintain an aircraft for her personal use. 

It was the month 23 people were thankfully freed from kidnappers in Soka community along the Lagos-Ibadan expressway. Human skulls and body parts were discovered in and around the premises, evidence, they say, of ritual killings and dealings in body parts.  One inmate, an old lady, had been held since 2008. The disused building had witnessed gory details of others who met a worse fate than those freed.

I am saddened not only by the situation of things in Nigeria, but more so by the indifference, sheer incompetence, and impudence of the president.  The questions that come to mind are:

1. 1.     Would President Jonathan have proceeded on his lavish gala if his daughters were amongst the Yobe students massacred by Boko Haram?
2. 2.     Would he have prevaricated if his son was amongst the 16 massacred by the greed of the Interior Minister to make 710 million Naira from vulnerable, young unemployed Nigerians?
3. 3.     Would the President have honoured Abacha if like the Rewanes, the Yar-Aduas, the Abiolas, the Onagoruwas, the Ibrus and many more, Abacha had killed or maimed his family members?

Last December, the Speaker of the House of Representative, a member of the President’s party said quite rightly, that President Jonathan‘s body language appears to encourage corruption. With these deadly ides of March 2014 in Nigeria, my observation is that the President’s body language to the needless deaths and sufferings of Nigerians is that of indifference. This to me is heartlessness. PostcardfromLagos

Gala - Powering the Masses - A case for adopting it as a Financial Index

It’s essentially sausage or beef roll, but in Nigeria, it is known as ‘Gala.’ Manufactured by UACN, this piece of beef encased in pastry is one of the drivers of the mass populace. I have known Gala for as long as I have known myself. As a little boy, I used to appreciate family members who brought this delicacy from Lagos or Ibadan during their visits. My siblings and me would share one roll amongst us, the taste never forgotten for days afterwards.

Nowadays Gala has other competing sausage or beef rolls in in the market, they are however still collectively referred to as Gala, a testimony to the power of the Gala brand.

I haven’t eaten one in a very long time, certainly not within the past 25 years, but of its utility, there is no doubt. You only need to drive or be driven on Lagos roads to appreciate the role this small roll plays in powering the Nigeria populace and in effect driving the economy.

Many people swear by Gala in their commute to and from work. At 50 Naira a shot, it is an inexpensive and quick way of filling the tummy ‘with something’. Aided and abetted by the Lagos traffic, street sellers of Gala earn a living from commuters for whom Gala is a sure way of keeping body and soul together until they arrive at their respective destinations. I have no statistics on the number of Galas sold daily, but it is not impossible that consumption would be in the hundreds of thousands if not millions.

Why is Gala so popular, first, it is cheap and affordable, secondly, it is said to be filling, and most importantly it benefits from the tremendous goodwill that its manufacturer, UAC of Nigeria, enjoys amongst Nigerians.

If ever Nigeria’s Finance Ministry decides to adopt a product as an alternate currency or as a financial index, say to measure GDP parity, the humble Gala will surely get my vote.

In any case, given that a packet of gala is 50 Naira, it means that going by the 2011 figure of $273 billion, Nigeria’s GDP is worth 8 trillion Galas. Not bad for a newly minted MINT economy. PostcardfromLagos

Bye-bye BRICs, Hello MINT Countries, Open Season for Open Letters, and The Trauma of Darkness.

Open Season for Open Letters

It’s the season of open letters in Nigeria. Triggered by former president Olusegun Obasanjo who, late last year, wrote an open letter to current president Goodluck Jonathan, it appears everyone have suddenly discovered their letter-writing gift. President Obasanjo’s letter was speedily followed by an unflattering response from his daughter, Iyabo who used to be a senator. Not to be outdone, Goodluck Jonathan responded to Obasanjo, you guessed it, through an open letter.

Whilst Nigerians were digesting this letter-writing exercise, Edwin Clark, the current president’s kinsman brought in an ethnic dimension by lambasting Obasanjo via an open letter for daring to write to Goodluck Jonathan. It is not impossible that there may be other actors in this open letter saga that have escaped my radar.

Of course, this being Nigeria, we are not exactly sure if all the letters were genuine. Ibrahim Babangida who ruled Nigeria between 1985 and 1993 came out a few days ago to denounce an open letter to the current president purportedly written by him. There is also a cloud over whether Iyabo Obasanjo was the author of the letter to her father.

Although this whole affair is a diversion from the different woes we are facing at the moment, the exercise provide a comical, if not stress-relieving drama to the theatre that is Nigeria. Keep them coming please!

The Trauma of Darkness

It’s dark at night in Lagos these days. Much more than it used to be. No one really knows why, but the speculation is that the thermal station that serves Lagos is operating at half its capacity. This means electricity is rationed. If we are lucky we get two to four hours in a day, and none at all in many instances.

What makes this different is the extended period of the problem and the fact that everyone everywhere in the city seems to be affected making it the subject of discussion on people’s lips.

The consequence is that more than ever before, the sound of generators rends the air day and night. And when their owners are tired of burning cash just to catch a good night rest, the darkness returns, albeit with an eerie silence not dissimilar to what you will experience in a scary movie.

  

What’s more; at this time of the year, it’s getting hotter too. So it’s a triple whammy trauma for most people at night – no electricity so no respite from the heat, mosquitoes have a field day feasting on those who sleep uncovered. And all of these happening in the dark.

Given the daily trauma of the average Nigerian, I wonder how the President manages to sleep at night with his conscience intact.

Bye-bye BRICs, Hello MINT Countries

Forget the G8, the G20, or BRIC(S) countries, here comes the new kids on the block – the MINT countries comprising of Mexico, Indonesia, Nigeria and Turkey.

These countries are tipped to become the next economic powerhouses with Nigeria predicted to rank 13^th in world GDP by 2050. Analysts believe that the growing population of these countries, the plentiful supply of labour and their strategic geographical location will drive their economies faster than many other countries.

What is not in doubt about Nigeria is the resilience of the people. The fact that there is any growth at all in Nigeria is incredible given our perilous power situation. Analysis reveals that 170 million people in Nigeria share about the same amount of power that is used by 1.5 million people in the UK. What this means is the potential for growth is limitless if we can improve power generation.

I am happy about this type of news but I am also pragmatic enough to accept it for what it is - a prediction. I desperately wish it happens. I believe it can happen. However, I know enough that we have very little economic activities in Nigeria compared to the other MINT countries.

I also know enough that we are a consumer nation whose citizens order plastic from China, hair from Peru and fabric from Turkey. In the last three weeks alone, two close friends have been to Turkey on fabric related tours.

So can it happen? Yes it can. But we will need more than economics to drive our economy forward. PostcardfromLagos

E ku Owo L'omi - To Call a Spade a Spade or Not To? - Language, Flowery Words, Yarns, and Stories

My adventures in Nigeria is filled with all manners of stories and intrigues. Some of these relate to my Yoruba tribe which in itself could pass for a nation on its own. I have rediscovered many of its rich approach to the use of words. In this short article I wrote many months ago, I shared some thoughts around this.

Many things in Yoruba language are unashamedly expressed literally without mincing words. This can often be embarrassing to both the listener and even the 'sayer'. For example, visiting the lavatory to do No 2 is literally expressed by the act in Yoruba. This can be cringing, crude and cruel to anyone who had the misfortune of asking where you are heading or where have you been. What the English language tries to hide in alternative, almost flowery words, the Yoruba language brings to the table raw and undiluted.

On the other extreme, Yoruba people can also be very frustrating in their habit of never calling a spade by its name particularly in their attempt to save face and maintain peoples dignity. To this end, speakers of the language often employ anecdotes, proverbs, flowery illustration and non-verbal but equally powerful communication tools to bring out a point.

For example, if you despise an advice, you will be told:

'a dog on its way to getting lost will not heed the master's whistle'

If two or more people commit the same faux pas, you will hear:

'no partridge is taller than the other except the one that perches on a ridge.' In other words, none of you is better than the other

Sometimes you are expected to deduce the meaning of the proverb immediately. Occasionally, the proverb is intended to be completely shrouded in mystery in order to deliberately leave the listener clueless. It is also possible that the ‘sayer’ wants the listener to draw an inference from what was said, not unlike in a chemical test in the laboratory.  Sometimes, the 'sayer' only wants the listener to have a partial understanding because a full grasp gives everything away and may result in the listener not fully appreciating the value of what he has received. The Yoruba expression for this last approach is 'abo oro la nso fun omoluwabi, to ba de inu e, a di odindi.' In other words, 'a word is enough for the wise.'

In some cases, an expression of greeting is formed by the actions that an event triggers. For example,  at the birth of a new born baby, the Yoruba greeting is not a mere congratulations as it is in English. We say 'e ku owo l'omi' - which literally translates as 'congratulations for dipping your hands in water.' This will be odd if the context is not fully understood. 

A new baby means a higher level of laundry i.e. washing nappies and baby clothes. It also means twice-daily bath for the baby. Both of these mean that the parents have a higher level of interaction with water, hence the greeting.

It must be understood that this greeting originated before the age of washing machines or disposable nappies. In any event, some people don't have washing machines. Some parents also elect to use clothe nappies like we largely did for our children.

I decided to write this article following the birth of our children and coming face to face with a barrage of ‘e ku owo l'omi.’

So there you go. Yoruba people are brimming with paradoxes. On one hand, they fully express things that one should be coy about. On the other hand, they bank and hide words that should be readily spent, oftentimes in the name of saving peoples' faces or because they just want to do so. They also use situational actions to suggest a greeting. Little wonder the saying: 'owe leshin oro, oro leshin owe, b'oro ba sonu, owe la fi nwa.'

Translation:

'proverbs are the vehicle for expressions; expressions are the vehicle for proverbs. When words fail you, a proverb will come to the rescue.'PostcardfromLagos'