THANK YOU MR PRESIDENT

Friday, February 27, 2015

THANK YOU MR PRESIDENT

Naijaman

When the Commander-in-Chief takes command and is seen to be in actual command, well then, I will concede that leadership has been demonstrated, albeit only superficially.

Yes, Mr President. Your visit to the troops was a great morale booster, both for them, and for those of us fellow voyagers who had begun to wonder how long the captain would remain below deck, asleep while the storm of insecurity raged and the ship of state tossed wildly atop the angry waters.

Some clips from Mr President's visit with the troops

Thank you Mr President. I will not forget this. It is but poor compensation for all the other issues that yet burn, but in doing this, you have proved yourself, in some small but significant way, the president of all Nigeria.

Although you have won back my respect, you have not won back my vote. That valued property, that franchise, that vote, is a precious one, to be delegated only where competence either has been amply demonstrated or is likely to be amply demonstrated. In 2015, it belongs to another.

Once again, Mr President, thank you. Daalu.

Egbemode: ALONE IN A LONELY PLACE

Saturday, February 21, 2015

ALONE IN A LONELY PLACE

By: Funke Egbemode

Bareheaded, barefooted and breathless, the king ran through the woods, like his life depended on it. It did, in fact. The king, the lion of Ayedire was running for his life, both royal and physical. The people who one worshipped him had just rejected him and ejected him from the stool of his ancestors. No, they were not really out to kill him, all they wanted was their throne, their palace, back from him.

Oyewumi, the Alaaye of Ayedire until a few hours ago, could still hear the youth chanting war songs and the women, each holding just one broom stick, cursing and threatening him. It was an unbelievable day, a nightmare that would haunt him the remaining days of his life. That is, if there were any days remaining for him.

Oyewumi continued his lonely and lone flight through the forest, seeking a place of refuge in this coolness of the day, a day that had broken like any other but one that would end like none other. Who would have thought that this day would come, when he would wake up in all his royal majesty and end up under a tree, without royal apparels and being pitied by the birds and squirrels? Who indeed!

He choked on his rage and regret, wondering where he went wrong and how things got so bad without him knowing. Did he not do all that his advisers told him? Did he not go to war when Balogun (the head of his army) told him to do so? Did Oluode (the head of the town secu­rity) not tell him his people were sleeping with both eyes closed? Should he have doubted and cross-checked what Iyalaje (the leader of the market women) reported as the state of commerce and commercial activities was in his kingdom? Who would have thought the walls of the palace were not as impregnable as the Olori Eso (head of the royal guards) made him believe? The fat idiot almost got him killed.

So, where were all his chiefs now? How did he end up the only one without even a cap, half-naked, hungry and haggard? Where were the people who told him all was well and that there had been no king like him since the first Alaye settled in Ayedire? How did he end up being the homeless one while the fat cats he made rich with royal patronage were probably sound asleep in the arms of their wives? What kind of fate had befallen his own queens, especially the beautiful one he had just taken, just three moons before? A short brown snake crawled past, he almost jumped out of his skin but the reptile didn’t seem to notice his royal presence.

How did Oyewumi end up a refugee in his own kingdom, with only disrespectful snakes and squirrels as companions? It is a sad twist of fate and a sad turn in the road that the king was not told existed. Yes, for his royal majesty was not the first king that Ayedire rejected and he most likely would not be the last. Oba Oyeniyan too was dis­graced out of the palace, chased into the cold dark on a rainy night. It is the way of the people of this kingdom, they hate with the same intensity with which they love.

With open arms they had welcomed King Oyewumi. They danced and sang for seven days when he ascended the throne of his ancestors. They prayed for him and gave him gifts. They worshipped him and treated him like the representatives of the gods that he was. He was a welcomed relief from the days of drudgery and poverty of the last king.

For a while, things went well. The rains came when it should and the harvest was plenty. The women went to the river and farm and returned safely. Then things start­ed going awry. Children got missing on their way from the farm. Women got raped on their way to the stream. The neighbour­ing kingdoms became so bold they not only refused to bring their annual tax (isakole), they also started raiding border farms and compounds. Soon, everybody started feeling uncomfortable. The rains still came on time and the harvest increased but the people of Ayedire were no longer happy with their king. What was the use of the new beads and ‘Alaari’ they could now afford if their wives lived at the mercy of rapists? What was the use of the tu­bers of yams that got bigger by the year if the markets were not safe? Where would they sell their farm products if nobody came to buy? And if a man lost two sons in one day, who would he leave his wealth to?

Tension rose and side talks soon became loud protests. The young ones stopped prostrating for the chiefs and then stopped greeting them altogether. The people of Ayedire stopped attend­ing the king’s festivals. The people of Ayedire were simply done with Oyewumi. If he could not protect them and their families, he was no longer fit for their palace. And just like that, in the middle of the day, the sun high and hot, these people forgot every and any good thing this king had done and chased him out of town, far out of town and deep into the forest.

A rodent defecated on Oyewumi’s crownless head. The squirrels bounced up and down the short bush path. The birds continued to sing. As if all was well with the world, as if nothing significant hap­pened that day. Though a male tree is not expected to produce juice, tears welled up in the blood-shot eyes of the king. Was this really the end of the story, the end of the road for him? Had he actually become ‘yesterday’s king’? He imagined Ayedire crowning a new king, the maidens danc­ing seductively, boisterous laughter all over town, everybody drinking free palm wine and eating pounded yam like it is going out of fashion. Though his heart failed him at that point but he took evil delight in the sure knowledge that his people would soon tire of their new leader and send him to this lonely place of for­mer kings where grasscutters and rabbits are the subjects.

***

Funke Egbemode writes for the Sunday Sun, from which website this article was retrieved on February 21, 2015.

THE STATESMAN? THE STATE'S MAN?

Monday, February 16, 2015

THE STATESMAN? THE STATE'S MAN?

Whence does Obasanjo's courage to criticize someone for not adhering to the "Rule of Law" come? I remember well that the "Rule of Law" was a foreign language between 1999 and 2007. When did Obasanjo learn to speak a new language? 

Or is he really speaking a new language? Might this just be a new dialect of an old language, a language we all remember, a language that some of us referred to in those days as the Third Term Project?

Obasanjo is a dogged fighter. That is why the view that his motivations for becoming a "statesman" are entirely selfless is a difficult one to accept. It is more plausible in fact that he is applying the finishing touches to becoming not a statesman as he seems to say, but the State's Man, which is what he may really be saying.

Naijaman - "Respecting" The President

Monday, February 16, 2015

"RESPECTING" THE PRESIDENT

MY REACTION TO SOME REACTIONS TRAILING SOME OF MY FACEBOOK POSTS

I have repeatedly referred to President Jonathan as clueless in matters of governance. I still think he is clueless in that regard. I think so because his leadership has shown “no knowledge, understanding, or ability” in successfully handling the myriad of Nigeria’s problems, from the economy, to security, to internal democracy, to corruption.

A number of people, in their reactions to my posts, especially recently, have taken strong exception to my characterization of President Goodluck Jonathan as clueless. They have premised their objections on their shared perception that calling him clueless is insulting, and that insulting the president amounts to insulting the generality of Nigerians. They are entitled to their opinions.

In my own opinion, which, needless to reemphasize, I am entitled to as well, the individual who elects to offer himself to the citizenry for public service either in an elective position, or as an appointee of government to a cabinet position, by that same token, submits himself to the intense glare of public scrutiny. His every action and inaction will be second-guessed, analyzed, applauded, derided, or ignored by all and sundry, each according to their personal persuasions and leanings. Assessments of how the president has handled his job are made by citizens and non-citizens alike. These will come to their conclusions on the subject. The words they choose in describing those conclusions are their own prerogative.

Respect for the man who is the president and respect for the president are not exactly the same thing. To my mind, there is a difference between both “respects” that is not even so vague. In the first, the respect that is due the man is the same respect that is due any other man. No more. In the second, the respect that is due the man is the respect that is due the office of the president, the respect that is due the people he represents, the civilization he stands for, the institution that he embodies…in two words, the presidency.

Respect for the office of the president dictates that you stand when the president enters the room and remain standing until he sits or indicates otherwise, even if you think this president assaulted your mother. Respect for the president means you don’t heckle when he speaks in his capacity as president, whether he is addressing the National Assembly, a business community, or a town hall meeting, whether you agree with what he is saying or not. Respect for the president means you don’t throw stones at him or his motorcade when he comes campaigning for reelection in your area. Respect for the president embodies all those responsibilities you have as a citizen to the personality that occupies the office of the President, not to the person that is the president. In speaking of the president in his capacity as president, we owe his office the respect it deserves. Therefore, in formal national and international gatherings, at public functions which he attends in his capacity as president, his presence must elicit from us all the courtesy that his high office demands. In those situations, he is not just any other man. He is an institution. He is a people. He is a civilization. In characterizing this or any president as an individual however, in referring to his performance on the job, any adjectives employed are at the discretion of the assessor. Others may agree or disagree with the adjectives used – some may even see them as insulting – but those may be seen as the necessary evils of the freedom of speech we enjoy – freedom of speech, not information.

Disrespect shown to the office of the president – which means, in effect, disrespect shown to the person of the president when acting in his official capacity as the president of the Federal Republic of Nigeria – amounts to disrespect to all Nigerians. That is why, on my Facebook wall, I was unequivocal in my condemnation of the stoning of the president’s motorcade in some northern states some weeks back. Nothing excuses that kind of behavior. A PHYSICAL attack on the person or the surroundings of the president is an attack on the presidency and so, an attack on all Nigerians. I condemned that behavior without reservation. To my knowledge, none of those who now query me for using that clueless tag on Mr President condemned that behavior.

In contrast, a scathing criticism of the president on Twitter, Facebook, Google+, satellite television, radio, or newspapers – even if seen by some folks as insulting – is not an insult to Nigerians. Nigerians are not responsible for the president’s decisions. Some enjoy them, some endure them. Those who endure them cannot be expected to clap for him like those who enjoy them do. Instead, they are expected to call very loudly for things to be done differently, where possible, by different people. Respect for the president does not mean you cannot disagree vehemently with his policies, and with him.

I respect the president. But I disagree heartily with him on security, on the economy, on his approach to corruption, on defense. I don’t think he should continue to be president. I think he is unfit to lead. That does not mean that I think he is unfit to be a respectable Nigerian. It just means that I have not become so focused on seeing the president as to be unaware that I am also seeing Jonathan. Perhaps another way to say this is that we must separate the president of Nigeria from the PDP presidential candidate for the 2015 general elections, even if both personalities coalesce into the same individual who has been president for the past five years.

All that said, I hope the misunderstanding generated by some of my posts in some quarters will now be laid to rest.

Amakeze: HUGO IS DEAD (FIGURATIVELY). I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT KILLED HIM

Friday, February 13, 2015

HUGO IS DEAD (FIGURATIVELY). I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT KILLED HIM

Amakeze, Michael Chigozie

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You see, I have known Hugo from my secondary school days, more than a decade ago. In those days, he was a young man with an exotic name-Hugo Davy. He walks in a measured manner and speaks French. For me, there was not a nobler man. Judge O ye gods how dearly I admired him.

Hugo is gifted with the pen. His ink is new every morning. He can weave a tale, gripping and racy. I have neither wits, nor words, nor utterance, nor the power of speech to stir men’s blood like he does. I am no orator, as Hugo is. I follow his blog and his writings like a morning devotion.

Then politics came. Make no mistake about this. Hugo is entitled to his choice. Now the problem isn’t that Hugo makes a swansong of his choice, making himself an Archbishop (maybe TB Joshua ordained him) and procuring for his use, a miter cap and a crosier staff for worship in the temple of APC.

The problem is that Hugo in a selective manner, plays down the deficiencies of his candidate, and in a very smart manner, makes those that haven’t joined the ‘change’ bandwagon feel like they are on the wrong side of history. Hugo accuses us of silence, of connivance, of blind support for the incumbent, and paints his intentions with the brush of patriotism. He calls it his ‘convictions’. But he, in a subtle manner, questions our own convictions.

Hugo Naijaman glorifies in the ‘anti corruption’ antecedents of his messiah who is to come. He calls him a disciplined man. Now lets put Hogo (sic) and his ilk right. Coup is a political armed robbery. It is the worst form of corruption. All coupists are usurpers of legitimacies that belong to the people. It is a travesty of language, a corruption of the purity of concepts, of the human civilization and dignity to call coupists incorruptible, no matter their intentions. They never owned the power they flaunted. They only possessed it. Every rookie lawyer knows the difference between ownership and possession. The logic of coups is that you are an animal, a pre-civilized being, and possess no right to own your life or fate.

So how on earth can a coup maker be disciplined? Or satan (sic) be saintly? Is it possible to practice ethics without morality? The next best thing Buhari should do before we grant him a baptism in the assembly of the faithful, ie humans, is to confront the demons of his past and show some remorse. He hasn’t shown any atom of remorse.Given the opportunity, he will do so again. Now that is sin against the holy spirit-obstinacy, and it is enough to deny him paradise.

Hugo makes a mountain of corruption allegations. I had expected him to push for restructuring of the power architecture in Nigeria which is the reason for corruption in the system. Corruption is wholly and entirely power, not a function of persons or countries. It is the system that co-opts or precipitously pushes persons into corruption. Assuming, without conceding, that Buhari is not corrupt, it is foolhardy to think that he will stamp out corruption because it is institutional. He was propped up by persons who are neck deep in the corruption game. The system makes it impossible for political eunuchs to achieve political erection. They can only be propped up by political godfathers, like Tinubu. They become vassals in the hands of their benefactors.

The answer remains with reconstituting the power architecture, decentralizing the enormous powers in Abuja. Will Buhari risk it? Will he dismantle a system he benefits from, as a Northerner, a system skewed to favour the imperialists, the feudal North, of which he is a member?

Hugo says he writes for posterity. But I haven’t read a work by Hugo on what is at stake in Lagos Gubernatorial election where he lives, earns his bread, and sometimes butter. Everybody knows that Lagos is tethered to the whims of one man, someone whose words are laws, whose wealth is so humongous he can buy the atlantic (sic), who literally owns half of Lagos. I haven’t heard Hugo complain about the activities of touts in Lagos who are ostensibly given a State protection, who constitute themselves into terror groups of a more virulent strain. Hugo doesn’t want posterity to know about his home state Governor Rochas Okorocha who indulges in governance by billboards and deceives his people with wishy washy greetings nay ‘My people my people’. Maybe he doesn’t want posterity to remember that. O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, and men have lost their reason. Bear with me.

Hugo’s pastime can be summed up in one word-HATE. It is not criticism. It is pure hate. That’s why he attacks any thing emanating from the Presidency, good or bad. Once it is Jonathan, it is bad, including attacking an innocent mistake on the President’s Facebook post, and comparing it with Buhari’s certificate scandal. It is akin to what the Republicans do to Obama, to the extent of questioning his citizenship. The objective is one thing, to ridicule his person and undermine his Presidency. To achieve that, they indulge in massive propaganda and sustain the tempo. Recently, they even accused the President of deploying Soldiers to Tinubu’s house. None of such happened. Hate is like stagnant water, and stagnant water becomes dirty, stinky, disease ridden and poisonous.

O how I missed Hugo’s write ups when he was objective, when he was alive. My heart is in the coffin with Hugo and I must pause till it comes back to me. Here was Hugo. When comes such another. He died leaving mums and kids behind. I have no idea what kiled (sic) him. In any case, it saddens me. Death is a bitch.

This Facebook post was first published on February 12, 2014.