With: Martins Esom
Nigeria at 53: between the people and the masses
?Indeed, Nigeria has bitten more than she can chew. No doubt, when the jack was lowered on the first of October 1960 ending an era of imposed occupation, the hopes of Nigerians were high. But 53 years into the journey to nationhood, Nigeria is still crawling. No man of good conscience will remain non-chalant about the malaise that has befallen Nigeria. Even if I was not a Nigerian, from facts and figures on ground I have every right to cry more than the red eye mourner who mourned the bereaved family and become suspect to aiding the dead person in his journey to the great beyond. After all, like Williams Shakespeare observed, ?I am part of humanity and what affects humanity affects me? I wish not to cast a thick cloud of doubt on Nigeria because I am not an advocate of hopelessness. I am a Nigerian, standing for Nigeria but patriotism does not stop me from saying boo to a goose as far as Nigeria is concerned. It is only the dead that the pathetic anomalies in Nigeria cannot attract like the bee to the honeycomb.
Despite the fact that our kernel as a country has been cracked for us by the benevolent spirit with litanies of inexhaustible human, natural and material resources at our disposal, we have refused to be humble as Chinua Achebe advised by husbanding this resources to achieve desired result. At 53, Nigeria is still behaving like the proverbial ostrich
Who buried her head in the sand while her body is protruding and exposed to the outside world and pretending that she is hidden. Nigeria has continued to dance naked round the vicious circle of the bad, the ugly, the messy, the bloody and the messy
The people and the masses are two kernels in the same nut called Nigeria. I find myself in the same page with Rev. Fr. Bauna? Tanko when he referred to the people as ? the people with their own identity. Self guided consciences with their own personal defined objectives. On the other hand, the masses are those without consciences. They are individual nuts and bolts in a wheel. They have no reason, other reason for them. They have no self determination. They are like a rudderless ship in a turbulent sea. Their behaviour and action are determined by the simple reason that they are faceless. They survive on the crumbs, scraps and shreds of predigested ideals and follow the bandwagon even if the bandwagon were moving towards a precipe?
We have every reason to allow the sledge hammer to fall on the masses. The masses are the untutored and the unthinking crowd, all those who put a ceiling on our destiny as a country by drinking from the chalice of ethnicism. They are the ravenous dealers who masquerade as leaders. All those who conspire to maim, kill and short change Nigerians are shamefully the masses. The silent voices of all who should have spoken against the impunity reigning in Nigeria belong to this ignoble group. The masses have remained cog in the wheel o f progress of Nigeria. They choose to remain Ibo, Hausa, and Yoruba instead of being Nigerians. They run faster than Usein Bolt when it comes to cursing the darkness instead of lighting up the candle. They don?t care to continue to wallow in abject poverty provided the monsters and their cronies in the corridors of power are from their religion, tribe, state, village or town. They fan the embers of hatred and violence left, centre and right not minding the end result of such action to the unity of Nigeria.
At 53, it?s a high time that we realized that a country with ?a people? is dead
Nigeria: The political economy of double share.
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I had fallen in love with Yaound? the Cameroonian capital. She was for me a home outside home. Yet, I knew that home was the best. Like the words of my father (son, home is ones inevitable end) when I refused to return to the East from the north- central, I realized that I was on my way home. This time around, it was Nigeria the land of river Niger and Benue.
From sangmalima, the home town of ?emperor Paul Biya? to yaound?, Edea, Motengene Bamenda , Tiko and limbe, the journey was sweet. It reminded me of the journey of eba and okro soup from the mouth passing through the throat, down to the stomach. I saw myself praying for a journey without end. The road was smooth and fresh like the skin of a baby coming out of the maternity ward and my joy , a mockery of that of a groom taking his virgin bride to the sacrificial bed of consummation on their weeding night. Cameroon was charitable enough that even wild animal enjoyed constant power supply. For two year of my academic sojourn in this bilingual country, if my mind is not playing head and seek with me, I think blackout was not recorded for more than three times. One was free to move from table to toilet because the water supply was certain as the stars on the sky. Security was guaranteed as a sunset after every sunrise.
As I left the shores of limbe via a passenger ship manned by a Pilipino captain, even right inside the Atlantic Ocean, I felt like a fish outside water. I realized that it was foolery trying to stop a moving train. I loved Yaound?, adore Cameroon but what can a willing mind do when the body is captured. The ocean was friendly; she smiled all through our journey.
Nigeria, a country so appetizing but like the Igbo will say, the sound of the bitter kola when chewed is not a proof of our sweet it is to the mouth. The moment we docked at the Calaba, I needed no magician to tell me the all is not well with Nigeria. From the bully police men, the kleptomaniac custom officers to the compromised immigration officers in the Calaba sea ports, they knew nothing but corruption. My passport and luggage disappeared into the sanctuary of men who are paid with tax payer money because they were supposed to be serving out father land. That experience was hot and raw. My passport only to re-appear after I was bullied into parting with some few naira notes. Imagine, from left, centre and right, I was treated like a totem in the Republic of Cameroon but here am i in my own country facing exploitation. That was my first encounter with classified and official corruption. What could possibly make an officer who was sure of his salary descend to low to demand for kickback before doing his job?
The double share syndrome is the bane of the numerous challenges Nigeria is facing. It is a pity that we are enjoying an ignoble status as one of the most corrupt country in the world due to this factor. I first got the idea of this syndrome in my alma mater. The school refectorian who we nick named? kitchen boss? will? each time we came for meal remind us of the schools most popular dictum? no double share? at first, it meant nothing ?to me. As a child, I thought from Lagos to Bornu on why the school authority would deny us limitless access to the school kitchen. However, nearly after the decade of leaving school my encounter with abuse of power at the sea port broke the Emmaus bread. No doubt, without this dictum, my school could have turned into a jungle were the strongest and the privileged have enough to eat and the weak go on empty stomach.
The double share syndrome is the bane of numerous ?kasala? that has befallen Nigeria. It is this syndrome that has reduced our politician into Oliver Twist always wanting some more of the national cake for their families and friends. They take their rightful share of the national cake and still deny the common man of his droit absolu, they fly abroad for treatment and still refuse to fix our hospitals, they? got private jets and forgets that our road are death traps. They got wives at home but still prefer to use our girls in the universities as ?conference materials?. Like the biblical rich man, they din and win in opulence and still want to keep the crumbs falling from the table. What a double share?
The fact that Nigeria is blessed with human and natural resources and yet poverty rubs shoulder with progress speaks volume about the ravenous effect of the double share syndrome. Like the recfectorian in my alma mater, we must all think, act and say ?no double share? until we espouse this philosophy, Nigeria will be every thing but what she ought to be.
?Between C.A.N and El-rufai
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?Nigeria is a giant in fierce battle in many fronts. The bad the ugly and the good are always in a constant war for her soul. In a polity like? ours were one is banished and rejected just because he or she is from a different tribe, religion, or political affiliation or even an adherent of a particular school of thought, I cannot but smash the cup become an exile or even a rebel. I for one, prefer the? latter hence emperor Hailie Selassie observed that? through out history, it has been the inaction of? those who should have known better, the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most? that has made it possible for evil to triumph?
Just recently, Malam Nasie El-rufai the former FCT Minister and an arrow head of the newly formed APC All Progressive Congres chastised the CAN president for dancing naked in public. El ?rufai though a Muslim, brought to lime light the fact the CAN President was chasing shadows. But typical of a society that shows chronic disdain for intellectuality, a society where a noble laureate is a ?mad Man? for denouncing the despotic regime of the Nigerian former dictator, the ?undamic? goddess of Aso rock and the jesus of Bipi Evans of River state house of assembly, a country where the unconstitutional office of the first lady is? supersedes that of a duly elected governor, a mathematic empire were sixteen is greater than nineteen, the unthinking and untutored fanatics were asking for his head.
Like Bishop Mathrew Hassan Kukar, Malam Nasir El-rufai have proven the fact that? book and all forms of writing have always been object of terror to those who seek to suppress the truth?- apologies to Professor Wole Soyinka. It was fun watching Mr Oritsejafor and his media team makes futile effort to cover the moon with their palm. Like Ikedi Ohakim( former Governor of Imo State) trying to discredit El-rufai?s book ? The accidental civil servant?, Mr. Oritsejafor and his foot soldiers failed to realize the fact that they could not rewrite that is not exclusive to them.
Truth be told, the jet flying pastor who seems to be suffering from mouth diarrhea has brought the once revered office of C.A.N to ridicule. Viewing C.A.N from the vintage point of Cardical Okogie?s, Archbishop Akintola and Cardinal John Onaiykan juicy era when ?faith in action? was displayed as pointed out by El-rufai, one cannot but weep over how messy C.A.N is under his leadership. Where is the voice of modesty, decency, love and simplicity C. A. N was known for all this while? Mr Oritsejafor and his co-travellers should know that Nigerians are wiser now. We cannot forget so soon the fact that on? November 2012, while the blood of Nigerian Christians were flowing like the farin ruwa water fall, he sold his conscience to the devil and before Mr Goodluck Ebele Jonathan? an Ijaw like him, ?accepted the gift of a private Jet worth millions of? dollars. When the Eminent Bishop Mathew Hassan Kukah questioned his moral compass, his foot soldiers resorted to gutter language, fanatical propaganda and idiotic logic to defend their shameful and regrettable act.
It is painful that Nigeria is a country where religion is practiced outside the law as such; every Tom, Dick and Harry is?? now marauding in the ?name? of ?God?. The polity has continued to witness the rise of hypocritical and syncretistic general overseers?? who than a genuine call for service of God and man have commoditized Christianity and turned Jesus into an economic messiah. Like the fake prophet of old (Amos 7;12;14) these crooked individuals wearing a borrowed or rather a stolen pastors tag have continued to swindle unsuspecting and gullible Christians of their money to live in opulence. Instead of using the pulpit to advocate for moral and ethical regeneration in the country, they prefer to host stage managed crusades in lucrative towns in order to seduce people into parting with their money while equally blessing our kleptomaniac politicians instead of chastising them for espousing? lootocracy? as a modus vivendi cum? operandi. How many of Oritsejafor?s and his likes sincerely? care to alleviate the guilt of social, civil and economic abuse of the poor in Nigeria with their palatial mansion, posh car, jets and fat bank accounts?
We may not like Mallam Nasir El-rufai but that does not stop civilized minds from seeing the merit of his message. I think he should be congratulated for having the courage to say boo to the goose. Mr. Oritsejafor and his foot soldiers should realize that Nigerians cannot be taken for a ride. We cannot be deceived and religious propaganda cannot becloud our sense of judgments. We refuse to be bullied by the name of a god that asked him to be flying on jet while millions of Christians and Nigerians die in penury and hunger. Like Pope Francis, I beg to say, ?The people of God want pastors, not clergy acting like bureaucrats or government officials? Mr Oritsejafor take note.
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Nigeria: Between the unthinking masses and poverty
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The blame game is one?? of the easiest games to play. It is always easier to point accusing fingers and shift blames left, centre and right for ones failure. With the diminishing influence of legend who through dent of hard work and passion overcame teething challenges in the life of youths, the need to re-echoe the fact that thoughts make impossibilities possible cannot be de-emphasized.
The God of impossibility is a monster that has produced many a voyageur that walked through the desert of life without foot prints. Ben Cason, the famous American author is a sugar in the tea of possibility. He broke the Emmaus bread and opened the eye of the ignorant or the doubting Thomases. His story is an indicator that we all can roast our rats without burning the tail.
A student of mine once opined that ? ndi ocha bu agbara?( the whites are gods). It was at the coca cola refinery at the 9th mile corner Enugu.? The technicalities behind the production of the world?s famous drink overwhelmed her. Anyway, I do not disagree with her but make bold to say we are all gods in our own right. Come to think of it, God created Adam and Eve, the white man thought alike and gave the world genetic engineering. Biblical prophet Jonah defied rational comprehension in the pre-historical era when he spent three days inside the belly of a shark; the white man borrowed a leaf and produced submarines. Can?t we see a link between the ascension of Elijah via the chariot of fire and the white mans space rocket? What of the birds in the sky and airplanes? The chair you are sitting on was a log of wood before someone went thinking.
In Nigeria, we dream big but think small. The resultant effect is the pathetic embrace of the Nicolo Machiavelli principle of the end justifies the means. The looting of the national treasury, destruction of life and property and near collapse of the state is a pointer to this fact. From the leaders to the led, no one wants to think. And when challenges come our way, we choose to make necessity mother of complain instead of invention.
We are products of our thoughts. Heroes are great thinkers. A man without a good thinking process is as good as dead. We must think fast and think out on how poverty will be expelled in Nigeria, how Nigeria will be a home for Bola, Buchi and Buhari, think out how we can stand in solidarity for peace progress and prosperity. How I wish the so called national dialogue will be a call for critical thinking on Nigeria by Nigerians. Keep thinking.
