What a relief! So, the Big Brother Naija reality television programme is finally over. It ended Sunday evening with 23-year old Efe Michael Ejemba, University of Jos graduate of Economics and singer winning the N25 million + SUV at stake, with 57.6% of the votes from over 24 million voters across Africa. Warri, where Efe’s family lives, erupted in excitement. At the Multichoice viewing centre in Ikeja, Lagos, where Katung Aduwak took charge so brilliantly, there was a similar eruption of incandescent joy. I was relieved because for about 70 days, the Big Brother Naija show was a big distraction, crass capitalism at its most cynical edge, a source of unmanageable madness in homes and on the streets. Now that it is over, it is time for some honest frank talk for the attention of all stakeholders involved.
Let me start with the lessons, on a positive note, before delivering the blows. Lesson one: In a very instructive manner, the Big Brother Naija reality television show promoted the ideas of choice and people power at the heart of democracy. Televised across Africa, the viewers had the final say in determining who stayed in the house or left during eviction moments on Sundays. The votes were collated, audited and confirmed by Deloitte, a firm of auditors and thus, the viewer as the voter determined the outcomes. In that regard, a reality show of that sort promoted a consciousness of democracy, choice and influence and it further explained why the people from Nigeria to Cape Agulhas all the way up to the Mediterranean sea took fierce ownership of the programme. In a continent where power is the ultimate aphrodisiac and every access to power, fame and influence is seen as an opportunity to oppress and demean, whatever is done to promote a consciousness of choice and the civil society is laudable. Multi choice, thanks.
Lesson Two: in every business concept, perseverance pays. Multichoice has been running its Big Brother Naija and Big Brother Africa concepts for a number of years. Apparently, this year’s Big Brother Naija has been the most impactful, the most profitable and probably also, the most exciting. In one week, over 11 million persons voted to determine the eviction. In the final week of the programme, over 24 million persons voted – that is more than the total number of persons who voted in the Nigerian Presidential election in 2015. This year, Multichoice has made more money from the Big Brother franchise than it has ever done. The programme was sponsored by PayPorte, and with all the voting, and the money spent on recharge cards, Big Brother and Multichoice are the biggest winners. In the end, it is all about business and profit. Everybody has been used. In business, once you have a good, attractive product and you can capture the market, you can fool everybody and make profit. Multi choice, weh done – in Falz, the bad guy’s voice.
Lesson three: humility pays. At the end of the day, in the last week of the programme, the decision by the viewing public was a moral, sentimental one. The biggest star of the programme was, I don’t know what you think, TBOSS (real name: Tokunbo Idowu), half Nigerian, half-Romanian. She dominated the space with her Jezebelic antics, even got some of the male participants ousted by entrapping and outsmarting them with her sexual wiles. She projected herself as a sex object, the ultimate manipulator, the champion Delilah of the Big Brother Africa series. She even made a joke of the entire Big Brother concept by saying she didn’t need the money and if she won, she would spend it in two weeks to pay off debts, and in any case, she had men hitting on her, offering to take her on a ride in their private jets. She played the role of a female barracuda.
Given her looks and talents, she would have been a perfect winner. She would have looked good on the billboards. But she lost because of her arrogance. Attitude is everything: this is the lesson of TBOSS’s disgrace and humiliation. When she was sent out of the House as the second runner up, the viewing centre in Ikeja, Lagos, including Kemen whose nemesis she was, danced in joy. “They are taunting me?” she asked Ebuka, the anchor. No, sweetheart, they were making a far more serious statement about you. The melodramatic ending of Big Brother Naija 2017 is its only redeeming outcome. Bisola, the first runner up does not even have a degree but she showed talent and resolve, even if her whorish flirtation with Thin Tall Tony is so cheap and self-denigrating. Her One-Nigeria consolation prize is something big she should take seriously. Efe won because of his humility. He is considered the poorest and the most needy of the contestants. Patrons of the programme chose to vote for the contestant who looked and sounded like he would need the money and the opportunity. They gave him a chance in life, although the organizers must ensure that going forward, the show does not become a poverty alleviation scheme. Bisola came second because she too looked like she needed help. Debbie Rise and Marvis also made the finals, but that was meant to be a great compliment to their good conduct, but they didn’t have enough support to make it to the top. TBOSS is the main star who lost. I hope she was taken out of South Africa with a private jet or maybe a submarine! Beauty is not everything, baby.
Lesson four: Marketing helps. Branding is everything. Propaganda is profitable. Packaging is nice. Big Brother Naija is nothing but marketing, branding, propaganda, and packaging. A reality show is supposed to be nothing but reality, virtual reality as it happens, but let no one deceive you, everything that happened in the 70 days of BBNaija was packaged, marketed, carefully branded and manipulated. Ebuka, the Big Brother, thumbs up, the scenic designers, kudos, the content developers, three hearty cheers, Multichoice, you guys are the smartest capitalists around, well done! The finale was a bit overdone though, dragged out, over-delayed. Tiwa Savage (hey baby, watch that growing fat around your waist and thigh), Tuface (thanks TuBaba but next time tell Annie to twerk for us- what was that!). In all, the power of television was well advertised.
Now the hard knocks: I rate the theatre high but I consider the whole show a sham, a 419 manipulative effort by a corporate agency, long overdue for an ethical review and scrutiny, a bad influence on corporate ethics. The owners of the programme are just a bunch of insultive, manipulative and exploitative capitalists, feeding on public need for distraction and the negligence of the authorities. Big Brother Naija 2017 is something that should never happen again in the shape we have seen. If Multichoice as a corporate investor wants to make a contribution to Nigeria, it must find ways of doing so in more meaningful forms.
Reality shows have become an established form on television, but whereas there are reality shows that promote talent, music, human capability and genius, enhanced relationships, and intellect, Multichoice, through its Big Brother Naija and Big Brother Africa franchises seems committed to the promotion of base values, chiefly adultery, prostitution, love of money, nudity and sex. What just ended as Big Brother Naija 2017 was nothing other than the corralling of some human beings into a zoo, pressured to behave like nothing but animals. The organizers made money devaluing other human beings. Multichoice and Payporte, the sponsors, turned alcohol and pornography into legitimate sport.
TBOSS and the other girls kissed and got groped by the boys on live television putting their upbringing to shame. TBOSS, who claimed she didn’t need the money even exposed her breasts on live television more than once. I have seen better breasts TBOSS. I am not too sure those private jet owners will be excited by your fluffy, South-looking, slightly bigger than mangoes breasts. If the same men see bigger assets, I mean, those interesting Ojiakor-like ones that look like papayas, pineapples and watermelons, they will not send private jets, they will deploy submarines and fighter jets! And that ‘s why you got N500k in the end, way back behind Bisola with her hard facial features, and Efe whose victory is based on poverty logistics and appeal. But I have no doubt that TBOSS will end up doing better in the larger, outside market than the other finalists, because even those who did not vote for her, know in their hearts that she represents the message of the programme.
It is a wrong message and that is why Big Brother Naija drew more audience in Southern Nigeria than in the North. In the last week of the programme,, every town in Southern Nigeria was seized by the #BBNaija fever. Prayers were offered in churches for Efe. One lady threatened to commit suicide if Efe did not win. Another one said she would not stop crying until Efe won. Nollywood stars declared support for housemates. There was Team Bisola, Team Efe, EfeNation, TBOSSNation, TeamDebbieRise (small), TeamMarvis (even smaller). There were public processions even in universities. We were told how to vote. Twitter was on fire. What I saw was nothing but sheer madness. T-shirts were printed. One musician turned his personal car into a billboard. Nigeria became a mad house because of one reality television show. It looked like mass hypnotism at work.
But it should not be allowed to happen again. BBNaija should not be hosted and staged in South Africa as has been the case. Multichoice, Payporte and their partners made crazy money and got brand promotion off the back and sweat of Nigerians. Do the maths; we got peanuts in return. We were told BBNaija could not be staged in Nigeria due to electricity problems so the studio had to be in South Africa. And the Nigerian government looked the other way. Wawu! All the billions that the South Africans are running away with, after giving our boy a Kia SUV and some N25m, who is going to collect the Value Added Tax on that? Nigeria or South Africa? See the real Gobbe! All the staff who worked on the programme with extremely marginal exception were South Africans. Where were the Nigerians? Abi, Lobatan oh.
The Nigerian government must assert itself. Nobody henceforth must brand anything involving primary production, Nigerian off Nigerian soil. We can’t get far by wearing made-in-Nigerian clothes on Mondays and Wednesdays, turning the country into an extension of Nollywood, but we can gain a lot by insisting that economic production and profit based on Nigerian talent and resource must have significant Nigerian content.
Congratulations Efe; the grace of God is forever sufficient, but sorry Nigeria.
Aliko Dangote at 60
Alhaji Aliko Dangote is 60 and understandably the entire country is busy paying tributes. He is the richest man in Africa, but more than that he is one of the most successful, forward-looking and resourceful entrepreneurs in the entire continent. He has investments and connections virtually everywhere.
I think a special remark should be made about his less known attribute – his humility and humanity. Aliko Dangote, for all those who have related with him closely, is a very humble man. His life is not driven by money, but belief in hardwork and the impact that he is able to make. He is helpful, supportive and kind, always believing he can make a difference. I offer a special testimony.
Many years ago, before the Abuja job, I used to visit Aliko at home, sometimes on my own and sometimes with my family. On one occasion, he gave my first son money as he saw us off to the door. It was that kind of money that caused a fight between father and son. My son wanted to hold on to it, and there I was insisting the boy must hand over the money because it was enough to pay his and his sibling’s school fees. The innocent boy said the money was for him. How could it have been for him? We resolved the fight, big fight, right there, with Aliko pretending not to notice.
On another occasion, Aliko asked if I had built a house and I told him I was building a house somewhere in Ajah. This was in 2006. He said we should go there. He jumped into my miserable Tokunbo car and followed me to the uncompleted building. He walked round the building and asked me what I wanted. He ended up giving me enough cement to complete the house and the money to paint it. He told me I should contact him if I wanted to build any other house, but after that other house, I stopped bothering him, because it was obvious the bricklayers knew cement was free, and they were busy taking advantage.
I went to Abuja to work. The true story of that job is best told by Aliko Dangote, Mr Alex Ibru, Rotimi Amaechi, Femi Otedola and Ojogbane Adegbe. They supported me as best as they could without interference. It was Oronto Douglas who made the phone call. One day, every story will be told. Thank you Alhaji, for being a friend and a brother. Thank you. May you see many more seasons.
Before Abuja Airport is Shut Down | By: Reuben Abati
A few years ago, the Federal Government of Nigeria shut down the Port Harcourt International Airport to carry out what they called repairs or was it renovation? It was supposed to be an exercise for a few weeks, but it took more than an entire year. Flights were diverted to an airport in the city at great cost to travellers, but the so-called renovation took forever. The Port Harcourt airport became a grazing field for cows, at other times, a vehicle-driving field, and for more than one year, travel to Port Harcourt, one of Nigeria’s most strategic cities was a nightmare. Each time the Nigerian government talks about fixing the airports, using the words, renovation, rehabilitation or reform, it is better to be cynical. The Sam Mbakwe Airport in Owerri, for example, was once touted as a major hub in the South East, and government spent so much money turning it into an international cargo airport for the East, but that same airport soon became flooded during the rainy season and planes could no longer land.
Both the Port Harcourt and Owerri airports are currently in a permanent state of renovation. The lives of those who wanted to renovate them at any level whatsoever are ironically and scandalously, imaginably better renovated. The airports failed, the managers smiled to the banks. In those two airports, travellers were put through enormous strain because the entire airports or sections had to be shut down. But the people, expectant as they were had no choice in the matter. The Nigerian government is so powerful; the people are helpless. The same government the people elect with their votes punishes them unjustly. The people themselves behave as if they are in bondage. This was what happened in particular when the Port Harcourt Airport was being renovated. Travellers were abused. Airlines subjected them to enormous indignity. Businesses suffered. Government failed to keep its promise. The airlines and their staff even became arrogant, failing to realize they were victims too. They treated customers shabbily and there was no way anyone could blame them when government itself was uncaring.
Looked at differently, the biggest problem is not necessarily the politicians and their appointees who sashay in and out of power, but the civil servants who run the engine room of government and who over the years have perfected a culture of graft and incompetence. They look the other way when politicians dismantle the rules, often times out of sheer cruelty and for the better part, the political leaders are guided to do so by the civil servants. Which department of government is responsible for the maintenance of airports?: The Federal Airport Authority of Nigeria (FAAN). I believe everybody in that agency should be lined up and caned publicly and investigated according to the law. Should they have any stories to tell about the poor state of Nigerian airports, despite the enormous amounts that are budgeted yearly, they should tell us as each stroke of the cane descends on their buttocks. I don’t consider corporal punishment a tool of governance, so I speak metaphorically, but the rot in the aviation section is so terrible, a feeling of outrage commands something extra-ordinary. Weigh that against the plane crashes, loss of lives, and the agony of air travel just because some incompetents have had to superintend over Nigeria’s aviation sector.
I am this outraged because a sad story is about to repeat itself. The Federal Government of Nigeria is proposing to shut down the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport in Abuja, beginning March 8, for six weeks: to build a second runway and to carry out renovations. During the period, flights will be diverted to Kaduna Airport and passengers will be required to travel by rail or road to Abuja. The excuse is that the runway in Abuja is almost collapsing. The life span of a runway is 20 years and this particular runway in Abuja has been there for 34 years. Politicians come and go but one significant fellow has suddenly woken up in either the FAAN or the Ministry of Aviation and a proposal has been submitted for renovation. And that proposal is now causing so much commotion. All the characters responsible for this costly neglect and delay should be lined up and sanctioned, and that should include a thorough investigation into the possibility of this “new” project having being proposed, budgeted for and cash-backed before now. At what point did it occur to FAAN that the airport needs a second runway, and who is the brain behind the hair-brained proposal that is now before the public?
We have been told that for six weeks, flights will be diverted to the Kaduna airport. The Minister of State for Aviation (by the way, who is the Minister of Aviation?) has been quoted saying he wants “knowledge” as to how this can be managed. The Ministry has also summoned a meeting of stakeholders after taking the decision. This has been a classic case of acting before thinking, making it all appear ridiculous. The international airlines are insisting that they find this kind of thinking inconvenient. Truly so: Local airline operators are not excited either. The National Association of Nigeria Travel Agencies (NANTA) and the Airline Operators of Nigeria (AON) are protesting. Common sense, a scarce commodity at this time, should have dictated that a meeting of stakeholders should have been held before the decision was taken. But the arrogant position-holders took the decision first and then decided to invite the stakeholders as an after-thought. Ask these questions: is there an ulterior motive? Ignore common sense and present the public with a fait accompli? Is that their plan? Is politics, in the shape of further Northernization involved? And why? Make Kaduna a new hub? Shift aviation travel further North? The failure to maintain runways and observe best practices is a reflection of the Nigerian problem: our national nonsense. Besides, Nigeria is forever a victim of last minute decisions. We remember to think when it appears too late to do so. Conspiracy theories are thus enabled when those who should act rightly behave as if they are busy thinking with their orifices.
Get it: The decision to shut down the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport in Abuja and move traffic to the Kaduna airport for six weeks has not been properly thought through. Poor thinking is the enemy of good governance. There is no guarantee to start with, that the renovation and rehabilitation can be completed in six weeks. Remember Port Harcourt and Owerri. We have been told nevertheless, that this is a good decision. But the timing is unwise. We are moving passengers to Kaduna at a time that same state and city is in turmoil. Thousands are being slaughtered daily in Southern Kaduna. The crisis has both religious and ethnic undertones. And now we are moving more Nigerians to the North, so they can get killed at the airport on or their way to Abuja? Who in his or her right senses would like to travel through Kaduna at this time?
A standard travel advisory should be: travel through Kaduna at your own risk and commit possible suicide. And to this: let no paid vuvuzela tell me the roads are safe and that the rail line to Abuja does not pass through Southern Kaduna. Also consider this: Government says it will provide buses. Who will bear the cost? Traveling from wherever to Kaduna to reach Abuja is likely to be more costly in every sense. Will the airlines bear the cost? Or the already aggrieved travellers will be subjected to extra cost and pain? Foreign airliners have already rejected the Kaduna airport. It is by every international standard a poor airport. It can’t even accommodate a crowd. Why would government subject travellers to obvious chaos and behave as if it does not matter. Copy this:
“The Minister of State, Aviation, Hadi Sirika, however, said total closure of the Abuja airport runway was inevitable, judging from the worrisome level of dilapidation…. (I see)
The minister assured of adequate security of travellers on transit by road from Abuja to Kaduna and vice versa, adding that the Ministry of Defence, the Nigeria Police, National Security and Civil Defence Corps, the Directorate of State Security and other agencies will provide cover for airlines and passengers. (Really?)
“We’ll increase the number of security personnel around Kaduna Metropolis; we’ll have traffic officials in every village and intersection. There’ll be members of National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA), fire fighters and ambulances at certain strategic positions. Police and the Air Force are to provide aerial patrols, complemented by ground police. (Bribery and extortion loading…)
There will be intelligence gathering. There will be bus coaches, train services, specialised car hire services and helicopter shuttles from private operators. But government will provide shuttles for passengers,” he assured. (Talk is cheap, truly)
This is precisely why the Ministry of Aviation should reconsider its stand. Stakeholders including foreign airlines should be carried along before any further step is taken and that has to be in line with international best practices. Everybody involved should admit that we are dealing with a Nigerian crisis. Nigerians who travel by air don’t deserve to be punished. They have suffered enough already. The airlines can’t even get enough aviation fuel in Abuja, not to talk of Kaduna.
Let no one forget this: Abuja is a strategic city. Those who travel there do so with a purpose. It is the city of adventurers not settlers. It is the city of the Federal Government. People go there to sort out government matters including contracts and other matters. Shutting down the Abuja airport is like shutting down the city, and perhaps the entire country. The Ministry of Aviation makes it sound as if this is inevitable, but we must tell them, and tell them again, that the Kaduna airport is not ready and to repeat the Port Harcourt experience in Abuja would be sad and counter-productive. It is not for nothing that the international airlines are already protesting that they don’t want to go to Kaduna. The argument about fixing the runway to make it safer is okay, and we all know why nothing is ever properly maintained in this country, and why projects of six weeks end up taking one year, and more, so don’t tell me the obvious, but government decisions no matter how well-meaning, should be governed by good thinking. A mismanaged renovation of the Abuja airport could result in months of avoidable agony and disaster for the Nigerian economy.
Opinion: Governors and the politics of succession~ By Reuben Abati
The recent Governorship elections in Edo and Ondo states threw up a number of issues about the politics of succession in Nigeria. In Edo state, you would think it was the then incumbent Governor Adams Oshiomhole seeking re-election. He campaigned more than the candidate. He danced, waved the broom, his party’s symbol, far more enthusiastically than the man who wanted the office..
He even did more to put down the opposition and any likely threat to Godwin Obaseki’s ambition. His pretty wife was always in tow during the campaigns, and did she dance? Oh yes, she did too. Godwin Obaseki’s emergence as the candidate of the All Progressives Congress (APC) in that election caused much disaffection within the party. He was said to be Oshiomhole’s anointed candidate with the allegation that everything was being done to ensure his victory at the polls. Oshiomhole had his way. Obaseki is now Governor of Edo State.
The incumbent Governor in Ondo State also did as much if not more to manage the politics of succession in the just concluded Governorship election in that state. He anointed the candidate of his party, followed him everywhere, and “fought” for him, even in the courts and on the streets of Akure. The election was more about Dr Olusegun Mimiko and what he wanted. The situation was not helped by the fact that Mimiko’s choice, Eyitayo Jegede, SAN hails from the same Senatorial district with him, but by far the biggest problem was the division within the PDP, which produced two candidates on the same platform for the same election, with the courts having to decide mid-way and at the late hour, with a superior court overruling the lower court. This confusion created a scenario whereby Jimoh Ibrahim emerged for a while as the party’s candidate, only to be dismissed through a court order two days to the election.
This did not bother the businessman-lawyer-politician, though. Giving the impression that he was not so desperate to be Governor, he declared that his mission was to make it impossible for Mimiko to achieve his goal of installing an anointed successor. On the eve of the election, he urged his supporters and the people of the state to vote for the candidate of the APC. Under normal circumstances this would be considered an anti-party activity but the PDP is right now in such a confused state as a political party – its ranks are filled with disloyal, one-leg-in-one-leg-out members. For this reason, in Ondo state, the PDP defeated itself from within even before the election. Mimiko can also be held responsible for his chosen candidate’s defeat. He overplayed his hands in the febrile politics of succession in the state.
There is perhaps nothing new about incumbents, at state, local and national levels, showing interest in who succeeds them. Being politicians, they could plead that they are duty bound to support their party’s candidate, but where the problem lies is the desperation that attends the choice of such candidates, beginning with the party primary. In the United States, which is an example that can be readily cited, President Barrack Obama openly supported the candidacy of the Democratic Party standard bearer, Hillary Clinton, but he did so only after she had won the nomination. If Bernie Sanders had been the party’s choice, he would still have received President Obama’s support out of loyalty to the party. In other words, it would be difficult to speak of an incumbent American President or Governor anointing a successor and imposing that successor on the party and the electorate.
This unacceptable abbreviation of democratic choice and of democracy itself occurs routinely in Nigeria. Once upon a time in this country, an incumbent President boasted that he did not know who his successor would be, which was fine, but what was not fine was his simultaneous declaration that he was very certain about those who would not be allowed to succeed him. The same President eventually chose his own successor. In Ekiti state, following the election in Ondo state, Governor Ayo Fayose has been quoted saying what has happened to Mimiko cannot happen to him in 2018: he is so sure he would determine his own succession fortunes. And if he could be so confident, where does that leave the democratic process? Truth is: the average Nigerian politician’s faith in democracy is dishonest. He believes the people can be bought. The people themselves are very good at complaining but they seem more committed to election-day monetary inducement than their own rights. Whatever gains may have been recorded in terms of electoral integrity and civic power is sadly being eroded by poverty.
When incumbent executive political office holders insist on anointing their own successors in Nigeria, they can hide under three justifications. The first is that they have a legacy to protect, and that they have an idea who the right person is to protect that legacy. But this is absolutely wrong. It is not the duty of the incumbent to protect his or her own legacy, except through literature. If the legacy is strong enough, it should endure within the system. The end-and-start-again profile of Nigeria’s succession politics owes in part to the weakness of institutions. Our civil bureaucracy is one of the worst in the world. It is driven not by memory or best practices but eye service. Legacies also do not seem to endure because of the endurance of the politics of hate. When a new Governor assumes office, his first priority is to make his predecessor look bad. That is standard Nigerian practice. But the incumbent trying to prevent this possibility by anointing a successor has not helped either. In Lagos, Anambra, Cross River, Akwa Ibom Adamawa, Zamfara and Kano, we have seen how anointed successors eventually turned against their Godfathers. The best answer to the legacy issue is for every incumbent to perform so well while in office that certain things would be so obvious that they cannot be erased.
The second justification is that as the leader of the ruling party in the state, or in the country, the incumbent must protect his political relevance by having a say over what happens when he leaves office. The interpretation is that the Nigerian politician is very egoistic. Give him Executive powers and he begins to appropriate the kind of divine powers with which kings used to oppress the people. He is surrounded by sycophants who disorient him daily, with long lists of enemies from whom he needs to protect himself, in and out of office. He gets lured into a trap, he is overtaken by paranoia, and he makes mistakes thinking he can exercise proprietorial rights over the democratic process. Many have been disappointed. There is no point mentioning names from 1999 to date.
The third justification is that everything must be done to prevent the opposition from seizing power. Opposition politics in Nigeria is hoisted on a platform of enmity, including the fear of probes, even if no former Governor or President has been successfully probed or jailed by any successor since 1999. When our politicians are in the same party, they relate as friends, when they are in opposite parties, they relate as enemies, particularly if the parties involved are influential and capable of winning. Most of the people in the APC today who are branding the PDP as evil made their name as politicians inside the PDP. Jumping from one party to the other and switching colour and emotions like the chameleon means absolutely nothing to the Nigerian politician; their morality is majorly that of a professional prostitute. It is never about what the people want. And so, preventing the opposition is an empty excuse because the same Godfather who is imposing an anointed candidate today could join another party tomorrow, and the anointed could also head in another direction or adopt another Godfather. This is a perfect illustration of how devoid of character and principles Nigerian politics is.
What is left then? What is left is the more compelling argument that the reason Nigerian political incumbents are so desperate to anoint successors is because they are afraid of their own shadows. They want to cover their misdeeds, so they struggle to rule by proxy. They want to remain relevant, and continue to have access to state resources, patronage and privileges. They want to play God. They have secrets they want to hide. The politics of succession in Nigerian politics thus constructed has never worked. Its architects and promoters have been disappointed in many cases more than once. The landscape is littered with tales of treachery. Some Godfathers were so badly treated by their anointed successors they could no longer visit their states for four years at least. There are some ex-Governors who thought they got the best man to succeed them whose only reward has been abuse and neglect.
The lesson not learnt is that being a Godfather has at most, short-term benefits. Incumbents often underrate one thing: that the successor will also acquire his own ego. New influencers are bound to surround the new incumbent and they will advise him to assert his independence and not to be anybody’s “boy-boy”. Even when the anointed successor swears to an oath, as often happens, it doesn’t take long before one of these Pastors goes to him, offers to cancel the oath and anoint him as the new Spiritual Leader of the state! Have you ever heard of any politician who died because he swore to an oath with a Godfather?
The way we recruit Governors these days is bad. The lesson for every incumbent is to get things right. Nigerian democracy is still at the level of the visual and the personal. It is trapped at the level of needs. The people appreciate and remember what they see and what touches them directly. That is why on election day, or the night before, when they are given the “Naira sandwich”, their political mind immediately focuses on how at that particular moment a particular party or candidate has met their needs. The challenge of Nigerian democracy remains how to free the people from this base level, and confront them with more significant and indelible achievements that they can see, feel and touch, and which the politics of succession or hate can neither destroy nor traduce. If anyone understood this very well, Awolowo did, Ahmadu Bello did, Michael Opara did, Sam Mbakwe did, Obasanjo did, Jakande did, Onabanjo did, Ajasin did…we’d talk about more contemporary examples some other day.
The threat of a new political party| By: Reuben Abati
When aggrieved politicians within the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) decided to join forces with members of the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN), the Congress for Progressive Change (CPC), the All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP) and the All Progressives Peoples Alliance (APGA) to form the All Progressives Congress (APC) in 2013, they had well-defined, if not so clearly stated, even if poorly conceived objectives: to send President Goodluck Jonathan out of power, displace the PDP which had clearly become a dominating hegemonic party, exert vengeance and offer the people an alternative.
The triumph of the APC in the 2015 elections resulting in victory at the Presidential level, in 23 states out of 36, and also in the legislature, state and federal, was propelled on the wings of the people’s embrace of this slogan of change. Change became the aphrodisiac of Nigeria’s search for democratic progress. The new party’s promises were delivered with so much certainty and cock-suredness. Those who were promised free meals were already salivating before casting the first vote.
The permanently opportunistic players in Nigeria’s private sector could be seen trading across the lines as they have always done. Everyone knew the PDP had too much internal baggage to deal with. The opposition exploited this to the fullest and they were helped in no small measure, not just by the party’s implosion, but also the offensiveness of the claims by certain elements within the PDP that their party will rule Nigeria forever. This arrogance had gone down the rank and file resulting in bitter conflicts among the various big men who dominated the party. The party failed from within, and even after losing the 2015 elections, it has further failed to recover from the effects of the factionalism that demystified it and drove it out of its hegemonic comfort zone. It took the PDP 16 years to get that hubristic moment. It is taking the APC a much shorter time to get to that same moment.
The displacement of the PDP gave the impression that Nigeria’s political space, hitherto dominated by one party, and a half, out of over 30 political parties with fears of a possible authoritarian one-party system, had become competitive. But the victory of a new party over a dominant political party in power such as occurred in 2015, has not delivered the much-expected positives: instead, questions have been raised about the depth of democratic change and the quality of Nigeria’s political development. The disappointment on both scores has been telling.
The ruling APC has not been able to live up to expectations. In less than two years in power, it has been behaving not like the PDP, but worse. Not a day passes without a pundit or a party member or a civil society activist suggesting that the only way forward is the formation of a new political party. There are over 30 registered political parties in Nigeria; no one is saying that these political parties should be reorganized and made more functional; the received opinion is that a new political party would have to replace the APC.
The implied message is the subject of political science. Many political parties in Africa, not just in Nigeria, lack substance. They reflect the problematic nature of party politics in the continent, even after the third wave of the continent’s democratic experience. Party organizations are weak, their organs are inchoate, their fortunes are mercurial. In Nigeria, this seems to be more of a post-military rule reality, for in the First and Second Republics, some of Nigeria’s political parties appeared to be more relatively people-based and socially-rooted. The military left behind an authoritarian streak at the heart of Nigeria’s party politics, producing political parties since 1999 that do not fully reflect or assimilate the people’s yearnings.
There isn’t therefore yet in place a mass-based, people-driven political party to replace the elite-based hegemonic parties we have, despite early efforts in the past in this direction by the likes of Aminu Kano and his People’s Redemption Party (PRP), Fela Anikulapo-Kuti’s Movement of the People (MOP), Tunji Braithwaite’s Nigeria Advance Party (NAP), Gani Fawehinmi’s National Conscience Party (NCP) and Wole Soyinka’s Democratic Front for the People’s Federation. There was also the Labour Party, mentioned separately here, advisedly, because it ended up abandoning its social democratic base, and became like the regular parties, an elite cabal, with the initial progressives who championed it on the platform of the Nigeria Labour Congress, moving ideologically to the right in an attempt to align with the Nigerian mainstream and its ready benefits. A profile of this political party and its initial principal promoters would reveal just how alimentary Nigerian politics is.
Our immediate concern, however, is to argue that those who are raising the flag of a new political party as the answer to the emerging failure of the APC and the growth of factions among its members, and by extension, the spreading despair in the land, are missing the point. They are not promising any revolutionary change nor are they interested in deepening Nigeria’s democratic change. Permit me to quote Danjuma Gambo, of the Enugu Chapter of the Civil Liberties Organization (CLO) who reportedly said: “A new political party is what we need. A new party with new plan, (and an) ideology that will bring succor to the sufferings of Nigerians is the answer.”
Gambo deserves some credit: he phrases the matter delicately as a commentary on the incumbent dominating political party and government. His “what we need”, “new plan” “ideology” means change, another form of change to end, he tells us, “the sufferings (sic) of Nigerians”. We ask him, although he seems to have answered the question already: what happened to the change that happened in 2015? So we ask another question: if the formation of a new political party did not solve Nigeria’s problems since 2015, what is the guarantee that a new party would gain power and perform better than the ruling APC? Professional politicians don’t comment on the matter as carefully as Gambo attempted. They are brazen about it and they have been loud too. They make it sound like a threat and a given solution. When you hear them boasting that a new political party is on the way, you are left in no doubt that they are issuing a threat. But is a new political party the solution to Nigeria’s foreign exchange crisis or the people’s angst?
The conundrum is easy to resolve. It is easy for the political elite in Nigeria to change their garments, sans remorse, ideology or sentiment and that is how some of the most prominent political figures in Nigeria today have changed party membership cards more than five times in the last 17 years. The politics of elitism in Nigeria is simply about access to power, position and privileges. It has nothing to do with the people’s interests. The APC is in crisis for this reason, very much like the PDP, and even the smaller parties, because these are political parties of big men of influence. Conflict results when they are not allowed to exercise that influence by other competing big men, who are similarly if not equally driven by ego, religion and superior ethnic considerations.
The exercise of influence as a party big man follows a known pattern: after electoral victory, the big man wants the spoils of victory; he wants positions for his followers, contracts for wives and children and the freedom to have a say in the new government. Any attempt to shut him down, oppose him, or sideline him or her, immediately creates a crisis within the party. The greater the number of such big persons who feel short-changed and marginalized, the greater the chances of such factionalism that would trigger threats of a new political party. New groups can create new tendencies in society, but in Nigerian politics, new groups don’t really emerge, it is the same recycled set moving from one political party to a new or another one, looking for benefits.
Poverty, low literacy and the weakness of public institutions make the people vulnerable. The people embrace slogans and the dividends of what is now known in Nigeria as “stomach infrastructure.” They are deceived by the politicians’ display of affection and empathy. Because they are hungry, they accept money to attend rallies to help create an illusion of populism and acceptability. On election day, they sell their votes and sign off their freedom. After the election, they are too ashamed to speak up or they compensate for their psychological distress by subscribing to the politics of vengeance. A patrimonial and neo-patrimonial political system such as we run in Nigeria promotes nothing but difference, disappointment and distrust. Those who are plotting to create a new political party should be told that the harvest is predictable: more intense leadership competition, high level conflict among big men, greater deception, increased difference and tension within the polity. Political parties are governed by rules: the Nigerian political system operates above rules. It is possibly one of the most Machiavellian in Africa.
What do we need? Not recycled politicians posing as new party men and women. But this: effective party organizations, like the NCNC, the NEPU, the NPC, the AG, APGA, UPN, UMBC of old which belonged to the people and reflected their aspirations. The only difference should be a necessary disconnect with the politics of ethnicity at the heart of the party formation process in Africa which, as seen, defeats the objectives of true democracy and modernization. Institutionalization of the political party system will also ensure stability within the democratic order: after a bitter political contest in the United States in 2016, the two dominant political parties – The Republican and the Democratic have remained stable, and the country is being projected as supreme.
We should end this then where we started: leadership is the principal challenge. Until we sort that out, Nigeria’s politics will remain trapped in the throes of ethnicity, patrimonialism, authoritarian dominance, the threat of system volatility and fragmentation and the politics of revenge.
Opinion: The spiritual side of Aso Villa | By: Reuben Abati
People tend to be alarmed when the Nigerian Presidency takes certain decisions. They don’t think the decision makes sense. Sometimes, they wonder if something has not gone wrong with the thinking process at that highest level of the country. I have heard people insist that there is some form of witchcraft at work in the country’s seat of government. I am ordinarily not a superstitious person, but working in the Villa, I eventually became convinced that there must be something supernatural about power and closeness to it. I’ll start with a personal testimony. I was given an apartment to live in inside the Villa. It was furnished and equipped. But when my son, Michael arrived, one of my brothers came with a pastor who was supposed to stay in the apartment. But the man refused claiming that the Villa was full of evil spirits and that there would soon be a fire accident in the apartment. He complained about too much human sacrifice around the Villa and advised that my family must never sleep overnight inside the Villa.
I thought the man was talking nonsense and he wanted the luxury of a hotel accommodation. But he turned out to be right. The day I hosted family friends in that apartment and they slept overnight, there was indeed a fire accident. The guests escaped and they were so thankful. Not long after, the President’s physician living two compounds away had a fire accident in his home. He and his children could have died. He escaped with bruises. Around the Villa while I was there, someone always died or their relations died. I can confirm that every principal officer suffered one tragedy or the other; it was as if you needed to sacrifice something to remain on duty inside that environment. Even some of the women became merchants of dildo because they had suffered a special kind of death in their homes (I am sorry to reveal this) and many of the men complained about something that had died below their waists too. The ones who did not have such misfortune had one ailment or the other that they had to nurse. From cancer to brain and prostate surgery and whatever, the Villa was a hospital full of agonizing patients.
I recall the example of one particular man, an asset to the Jonathan Presidency who practically ran away from the Villa. He said he needed to save his life. He was quite certain that if he continued to hang around, he would die. I can’t talk about colleagues who lost daughters and sons, brothers and uncles, mothers and fathers, and the many obituaries that we issued. Even the President was multiply bereaved. His wife, Mama Peace was in and out of hospital at a point, undergoing many surgeries. You may have forgotten but after her husband lost the election and he conceded victory, all her ailments vanished, all scheduled surgeries were found to be no longer necessary and since then she has been hale and hearty. By the same token, all those our colleagues who used to come to work to complain about a certain death beneath their waists and who relied on videos and other instruments to entertain wives (take it easy boys, I don’t mean nay harm, I am writing!), have all experienced a re-awakening.
Everyone who went under the blade has received miraculous healing, and we are happy to be out of that place. But others were not so lucky. They died. There were days when convoys ran into ditches and lives were lost. In Norway, our helicopter almost crashed into a mountain. That was the first time I saw the President panicking. The weather was all so hazy and he just kept saying it would not be nice for the President of a country to die in a helicopter crash due to pilot miscalculations. The President went into a prayer mode. We survived. In Kenya once, we had a bird strike. The plane had to be recalled and we were already airborne with the plane acting like it would crash. During the 2015 election campaigns, our aircraft refused to start on more than one occasion. The aircraft just went dead. On some other occasions, we were stoned and directly targeted for evil. I really don’t envy the people who work in Aso Villa, the seat of Nigeria’s Presidency. For about six months, I couldn’t even breathe properly. For another two months, I was on crutches. But I considered myself far luckier than the others who were either nursing a terminal disease or who could not get it up.
When Presidents make mistakes, they are probably victims of a force higher than what we can imagine. Every student of Aso Villa politics would readily admit that when people get in there, they actually become something else. They act like they are under a spell. When you issue a well- crafted statement, the public accepts it wrongly. When the President makes a speech and he truly means well, the speech is interpreted wrongly by the public. When a policy is introduced, somehow, something just goes wrong. In our days, a lot of people used to complain that the APC people were fighting us spiritually and that there was a witchcraft dimension to the governance process in Nigeria. But the APC folks now in power are dealing with the same demons. Since Buhari government assumed office, it has been one mistake after another. Those mistakes don’t look normal, the same way they didn’t look normal under President Jonathan. I am therefore convinced that there is an evil spell enveloping this country. We need to rescue Nigeria from the forces of darkness. Aso Villa should be converted into a spiritual museum, and abandoned.
Should I become President of Nigeria tomorrow, I will build a new Presidential Villa: a Villa that will be dedicated to the all-conquering Almighty, and where powers and principalities cannot hold sway. But it is not about buildings and space, not so? It is about the people who go to the highest levels in Nigeria. I really don’t quite believe in superstitions, but I am tempted to suggest that this is indeed a country in need of prayers. We should pray before people pack their things into Aso Villa. We should ask God to guide us before we appoint ministers. We should, to put it in technocratic language, advise that the people should be very vigilant. We have all failed so far, that crucial test of vigilance. We should have a Presidential Villa where a President can afford to be human and free. In the White House, in the United States, Presidents live like normal human beings. In Aso Villa, that is impossible. They’d have to surround themselves with cooks from their villages, bodyguards from their mother’s clans and friends they can trust. It should be possible to be President of Nigeria without having to look behind one’s shoulders. But we are not yet there. So, how do we run a Presidency where the man in the saddle can only drink water served by his kinsman? No. How can we possibly run a Presidency where every President proclaims faith in Nigeria but they are better off in the company of relatives and kinsmen. No. We need as Presidents men and women who are willing to be Nigerians. No Nigerian President should be in spiritual bondage because he belongs to all of us and to nobody.
Now let me go back to the spiritual dimension. A colleague once told me that I was the most naïve person around the place. I thought I was a bright, smart, professional doing my bit and enjoying the President’s confidence. I spelled it out. But what I got in response was that I was coming to the villa using Lux soap, but that most people around the place always bathed in the morning with blood. Goat blood. Ram blood. Whatever animal blood. I argued. He said there were persons in the Villa walking upside down, head to the ground. I screamed. Everybody looked normal to me. But I soon began to suspect that I was in a strange environment indeed. Every position change was an opportunity for warfare. Civil servants are very nice people; they obey orders, but they are not very nice when they fight over personal interests.
The President is most affected by the atmosphere around him. He can make wrong decisions based on the cloud of evil around him. Even when he means well and he has taken time to address all possible outcomes, he could get on the wrong side of the public. A colleague called me one day and told me a story about how a decision had been taken in the spiritual realm about the Nigerian government. He talked about the spirit of error, and how every step taken by the administration would appear to the public like an error. He didn’t resign on that basis but his words proved prophetic. I see the same story being re-enacted. Aso Villa is in urgent need of redemption. I never slept in the apartment they gave me in that Villa for an hour.
Credit: guardian.ng
Bukky Ajayi, OJB Jezreel and other stories| By: Reuben Abati
Two lives lost recently in the creative industry convey useful messages in terms of the import of their careers and the circumstances of their departure: the elderly actress, simply known as Bukky Ajayi, and the music entrepreneur, multi-talented artiste, producer and musician, Babatunde Okungbowa, popularly known as OJB Jezreel. Bukky Ajayi died aged 82, and she has been well mourned by the artistic community especially members of Nollywood who have described her as a role model, an iconic figure and a motherly figure to younger actors and actresses.
Many mourners have added that her death is shocking: every death in Nigeria is considered shocking ironically, even when the dead is as old as 100, or has been known to be terminally ill.
In March 2016, when Bukky Ajayi received the Industry Merit Award at the Africa Magic Viewers Choice Ceremony, she was already wheel-chair bound and terminally ill. But I guess we are always shocked by death, because we always expect our loved ones to live forever. And 82-year old Mama Ajayi was truly a lovable figure. In a rich career that spanned 50 years, she proved her mettle as a talented and committed artiste. She started out as a television assistant, and later became a presenter, a producer of programmes, a newscaster and an actress.
She would later attain fame as an actress when she began to feature in the well-known Village Headmaster. She also featured in Amaka Igwe’s television series, Checkmate. Home video lovers further enjoyed her artistry and creativity in such movies as Mother of George, Diamond Ring, Witches, Thunderbolt, Elastic Light and Critical Assignment. In the course of her public career, she always encouraged younger artistes, appearing in their various works, musical and dramatic, including the video of Jesse King Buga’s anthem-like effort on Motherhood: “Mummy oh, oh, wa pe laye, mummy oh, oh, wa jeun omo, e niba ni ko ni ri be, a fo loju, a fo loju, a ko si enu trailer, a ku tu e.” Bukky Ajayi lived long: hers was a fruitful life of achievement and as at the time of her death, she could indeed look back with joy.
Every young artiste would wish to be as durable and as continuously relevant as she was, but while the younger generation can certainly emulate her professionalism and commitment, there is one other lesson that many of those now mourning, especially the much younger female artistes can learn from her example: and it is a lesson about virtuous professionalism, humility and decency. I do not mean to be offensive, but I hasten to say that many of the younger actresses mourning Bukky Ajayi have missed out on one of her important achievements as a female public figure for about 50 years. Her life was completely without scandal.
I say this to draw attention to a growing concern in Nollywood about the persona of today’s female actresses. There is a widespread impression that to be a Nigerian actress is to live an open, unhindered life, without moral boundaries. Very few actresses of the younger generation have been able to survive so far without scandals. They seem to have acquired for themselves a curious reputation as party boosters, serial baby mamas, husband snatchers, fortune-seeking, fortune-hunting, occasional porn artistes, with the most notorious in this category better known for the manner in which they flaunt body parts rather than their talents.
There are at least three of such actresses who are truly the most notorious poster girls. They claim that they have just one life to explore and their chosen lifestyle is part of showbiz. In a movie that is scheduled to hit the screens very soon, nearly all the actresses are in fact, bare-chested in the promotional trailer. They would call it art of course, or dignify it with the word, acting. There is also the bleaching, chameleon crowd of Nollywood beauties. Bukky Ajayi was proud of her African colour and identity.
But go round Nollywood: too many of the actresses have changed from being dark-skinned to tomato colour and shouting yellow within a space of 15 years, such that their old photographs seem like they were taken by different persons bearing the same name. The overall effect is that the more remarkable stories about many of these actresses is not their creativity, but the size or shape of their biological parts, the kind of men they are able to attract, or the endless scandals about their private lives.
Those who claim that this new trend is a result of a creeping Hollywood effect in Nigeria, especially now that globalization, and the success of Nollywood is fasting closing the gap between Nigerian and American artistes miss the point. Decent professionals who can serve as good role models may well still be in the majority in the industry but the part-artiste-part-hustler members of the community are promoting a stereotype of the Nigerian actress that does damage to the integrity of the profession.
It should be possible to be a celebrity and a showbiz personality and not be a constant supplier of outrageous stuff. Bukky Ajayi belonged to a different generation of Nigerian female artistes: those who combined virtue with professionalism. Enough said: her legacy of integrity, modesty and decency should be the big take-away for younger artistes as they mourn her departure.
Babatunde Okungbowa (OJB Jezreel)’s death raises a different kind of concern. There has been very little talk about his achievements as an artiste; whereas he was without doubt a multi-talented and resourceful creative worker whose contributions set a high standard for members of his generation and those who collaborated with him to produce good music. Unfortunately, his travails with kidney disease dominated the last three years of his life. In 2013, he underwent a kidney transplant in India; last month he died due to complications arising from the same problem.
One of the notable messages from his passing has been the reported complaint by members of his family and close associates that many of his colleagues who trooped out to mourn him, following the announcement of his death, distanced themselves from him when he was ill, and in urgent need of friendship. Extremely few artistes, if at all, bothered to contribute to the fund raising for his kidney transplant, or the OJB Foundation, which he established to promote public awareness about kidney diseases and assist persons on dialysis. The creative community should take special notice of this complaint.
Artistes are very good at preaching to the community; they can sing about love, unity and solidarity and inspire the public, but among themselves, they often find it difficult to support one another. It is this obsession with the self, and with profit, that has perhaps turned nearly every professional group or association, in the Nigerian creative industry into a battle-field of egos and hate words. The morality of creative compositions edifies, but artists can also be good citizens while in pursuit of individual happiness.
One other fall-out of the OJB story is the spread of kidney disease in Nigeria. Too many people are succumbing to kidney disease, hypertension, and heart attacks. There is greater need for public enlightenment about the risk factors that make this possible. In the absence of efficient medical facilities, prevention through enlightenment and precaution may help to reduce the public health crisis that the country faces. Kidney failure has robbed Nigeria of the great promise of OJB’s talent, in the same manner in which hypertension, heart attack and the sudden death syndrome have cut many lives short.
In mourning OJB, we should remember his darling wife, Mabel or Mama J, who in 2013 donated one of her kidneys so her husband may live. OJB was married to three women, through whom he fathered eight children. When he needed a kidney transplant, it was his first wife who volunteered to make the sacrifice. It was a sacrifice, because in any major surgery, anything could go wrong, and to donate one’s kidney, according to medical doctors, is to take an absolute leap of faith, because indeed anything could go wrong in a matter of years either with the donor or the recipient. OJB survived for three years after the transplant.
Since his passing, I have heard people express the view that if they were in Mabel Okungbowa’s shoes, they would not have taken such a risk to save the life of a man who betrayed her by marrying two additional wives. One lady even swore: “may God forbid, any man that leaves me for another woman, should even be prepared to die in the first place, not to talk of me risking my life to save his.”
But the story of Mabel Okungbowa is one of courage and love, and as artists and others pay tribute to her husband, the more compelling tribute that I remember is not the tribute to the departed, but the tribute paid to Mabel Okungbowa by OJB, after the kidney transplant three years ago.
He said: “She is a wonderful person because it is one thing if God is telling you to do something but another to do it. It takes a lot of courage to actually do it. Even when the doctors came to tell her that they would have to cut her all the way to the back and would have to remove a rib so they could have access to the kidney, she still agreed to go through it. It takes courage to go through with it. So, I will say she is a courageous woman.”
Such love. Such dignity. And a great lesson about sacrifice. Mama J is the heroine of the OJB Okungbowa story: she gave him three more years to live despite the betrayal she had suffered. There are not too many persons like her out there. Take heart, Madam. Life is like that. May the Lord comfort you and other members of the family.
Tomato scarcity as metaphor | By: Reuben Abati
One of the major news items in circulation has been the scarcity of tomato. Incidentally, Nigeria is (was) the 14th largest producer of tomato in the world and the second largest producer in Africa, after Egypt, but our country hardly produces enough to meet the local demand of about 2.3 million tonnes, and lacks the capacity to ensure an effective storage or value chain processing of what is produced. Out of the 1.8 million tonnes that the country produces annually, 900, 000 tonnes are left to rot and waste. Meanwhile, tomato-processing companies in the country operate below capacity and many of them have had to shut down.
The CEO of Erisco Foods, Lagos, Eric Umeofia laments that tomato processing companies lack access to foreign exchange to enable them buy heat-resistant seedlings and other tools that would help ensure the country’s sufficiency in local production of tomato paste. Similarly, Dangote Tomato Factory recently suspended operations due to the scarcity of tomatoes and the assault on its tomato farms by a tomato leaves destroying moth, known as “tuta absoluta” – a South American native, also known as the Tomato Ebola, because of its Ebola-like characteristics.
Other reasons have been advanced for the scarcity of tomatoes in our markets: the fuel crisis which has driven up costs making it difficult and expensive for Northern tomato farmers to bring tomatoes to the South, insurgency in the North East which has resulted in the closure of many tomato farms in that region, thus cutting off national output, the recent ethnic crisis in Mile 2, during which Hausa-Fulani traders and other marketers engaged in a murderous brawl, climate-change induced drought and heat wave in the Northern-tomato producing states of Kaduna, Katsina, Kano, Jigawa, Plateau, Kano and Gombe. In the best of seasons, Nigeria spends $1.5 billion annually on the importation of tomato products. The cost in this regard, seems certain to rise.
Already, the effect of this tomato blight is being felt in households. Whereas a few months ago, a basket of tomato was about N5, 000, it is now about N40, 000 per basket. Housewives are protesting bitterly about how a piece of tomato vegetable has jumped up by about 650%, such that three pieces now go for as much as N500. Tomato in Nigeria today is thus more expensive than a litre of petrol! I have it on good authority, that in those face-me-I-face-you quarters where the poor live, it has in fact become risky to leave a tin of tomato paste carelessly or fresh tomatoes lying around: they would most certainly be stolen, and there have been reports of soup pots suddenly vanishing should the owner take a minute from the communal kitchen to use the loo. Many are resorting to desperate measures to sort out a growing epidemic of empty stomachs and empty pockets. Unless this matter is addressed seriously and urgently, the social crisis may be far too costly in both the short and the long run: hungry people could become sick and angry, hungry citizens could become thieves and a nuisance, they could also become angry voters and a rebellious populace.
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| Tomato-eating moth responsible for shortage of tomatoes in Nigeria |
However, the most brilliant explanation that we have received so far from the Federal Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development is that there is tomato scarcity because of “tuta absoluta”. According to the Minister of Agriculture, Audu Ogbeh, a group of experts will be immediately commissioned to advise the government of Nigeria on the way forward. The mandate of these experts is to “appraise the situation”, and then give us “a figure on cost of treatment…so we will source funds to tackle it.” Is that what this is all about? I am not in the mood at this moment, to spoil anyone’s day, with straight-to-the-nose-the-mouth-and-the-groin punches but I think that the response from the Federal Ministry of Agriculture is far from adequate, if not stupid. Please, where is that bow-tie wearing Akinwumi Adesina, the former Minister of Agriculture, now on loan to the African Development Bank?
What we are dealing with is a national food security crisis. Before the commissioned outsiders begin to “appraise and cost”, the resident experts in the Ministry, should know that it is not only tomato that has become a scarce and expensive item in Nigerian kitchens, virtually every food item has become unaffordable and there are many homes that can no longer feed properly. The scarcity of tomato is only a metaphor for the spread of staggering inflation and the hunger that ravages the land. A bag of rice that was once N7, 000 is now N19, 000 per bag, a congo of garri has jumped from N170 to N300, bread from N200 per loaf to N300, and same is the case with virtually every food item. More than this, tomato scarcity is a metaphor for the lack of continuity in governance processes (What happened to all that revolution in the agriculture sector under Akinwumi Adesina as Minister?) and of course, for the failure since independence, to take agriculture seriously as a major vehicle of national security and development. If the response to this query is that nothing concrete actually took place under previous administrations, then what is the present Minister’s blueprint? What is his comprehensive agenda for ensuring food sufficiency?
It is indeed absurd that in 2016, we cannot produce enough tomatoes to feed ourselves – the short of it is that that single narrative about “tomato ebola” calls for more rigorous thinking. It is not enough to deal episodically with tomato scarcity, or the scarcity of any other food item; this must be done within the context of a plan of action. The job of government officials is to give the people hope and not to deepen their agony. A committee of experts looking into the scarcity of tomato, and how to throw money at the problem (!) is a round-about excuse for doing nothing. The knowledge that is required is within easy reach and much of the issues at stake, those within the province of the Ministry and those located in the larger context, are out there in the public domain, and perhaps, also in those accumulated files and old reports that most officials hardly ever read. The Ministry also spoke up rather too tardily.
For weeks, there have been all kinds of ethnic and political insinuations about how tomato became scarce, some of which, allowed to fester for too long, could have resulted in other crises. And we can only hope that the connection between food and health will not be lost on the experts. The health benefits of tomato alone are so many; to have a population no longer eating tomatoes, because of its cost could have long-term health implications. And while we expect the Federal Government to take the lead in terms of visioning, we should remember to ask: what are the state governments also doing? What are the states doing to promote agriculture and ensure food security? Apart from Kaduna state, other state governments have been criminally silent about the food crisis or they really don’t know since they probably get supplies of fresh tomatoes from neighboring countries for their own kitchens. All the big men eating imported fresh tomatoes when we, the people, can’t get tomatoes to eat, just “continuu eh” but don’t forget that a hungry and angry voter is an enemy of politicians.
There is another side to this whole tomato thing that is noteworthy. Special notice must be taken of the reference to the insurgency in the North East as a threat to agriculture. It is also interesting that most of the tomatoes produced in the country are from the North, and the Middle Belt. Check the list of major tomato-producing states in Nigeria: Kaduna, Katsina, Kano, Jigawa, Gombe, Plateau. Also check the list of the states where people are complaining most about the cost of tomato: they are all in the South! We should ask: so Southern Nigerians are grumbling about tomato being expensive and scarce, why are they so dependent on Northern farmers? They want tomatoes from the North, but are these not the same people who don’t want to see Northern cattle herdsmen in the South? Are these not the same people campaigning on social media that Southerners should stop buying beef in order to spoil market for Northern herdsmen? They are now begging for tomatoes from Northern farms?
In Ekiti, the state Governor has already given local hunters an executive order to shoot any AK-47 wielding herdsmen sighted anywhere in the state. It may not have occurred to the Governor that an AK-47 is far more versatile than a “shakabula” that is made by local blacksmiths and that he may actually be sending his local hunters on a suicide mission, but I doubt if the same Governor will stop lorry loads of fresh and healthy tomato baskets coming from Gombe to Ekiti markets! Thus, whereas cattle-grazing is causing ethnic division, tomato is generating so much hypocritical love for the Northern farmer: “Please, send us tomato, stop selling tomato to the tomato paste producers!”. This country is truly far more integrated and its various units so interdependent, in more ways than the politics of hate and division would ever allow the people to see. It is tomato today, should onions, millet and kolanuts also become very scarce, Southerners may start begging Northern farmers to please bring their produce to the South. This is the truth of our interdependence but we need to get our politics right and those who exploit ethnic divisions must allow the country to grow.
One final point: The scarcity of tomato and the threat of a national food crisis should remind policy makers at all levels, of the importance of agriculture. A nation that can feed itself is a safe and secure nation. A hungry nation can only have sad people. Tomato is incidentally, a versatile vegetable, very easy to grow, usually ready for harvest between 60 – 85 days. Those who are screaming “give us tomatoes”, and playing politics with it, may also do well to embark on subsistence farming: create a small garden in the backyard, turn that uncultivated plot of land into a small farm, plant a variety of food plants, remove that your white collar, stop waiting on the Northern tomato farmer, get on with the food revolution we need…while hoping that some day, Nigerian leaders will stop waiting for oil money and rediscover agriculture as Nigeria’s true gold.
Why Nigerians are special | By: Reuben Abati
Whatever problem we may have in Nigeria at this or any other time, this country is sustained by the fact that we are indeed a very special people. We have been described as the happiest people on earth, we have also described ourselves as resilient, gifted and determined, and in one report, Nigerians are said to have the strongest shock absorber against some of the deadliest diseases in the world. If anyone doubted this last point, well, recall that we won the battle over Ebola virus, and polio.
The more you look at it, the more it seems as if there is something in the Nigerian DNA that defies defeat, that automatically deletes any virus that can result in system shut down, there is that X-factor in our affairs that rises when hope seems lost, and life seems tragic. Somehow, the Nigerian spirit regenerates, recreates and reinvents itself, turns failure into possibilities, pessimism into new expectations, and tomorrow into an anchor for renewal.
We are at such a crossroad, right now. But in the midst of the despair, the listlessness, the anxiety, the what-happened-to-us and what-the hell-is-going-on, you can’t miss the fact that the average Nigerian has not lost his bounce. The biggest tragedies that can hobble other nations happen here and we just shrug them off. Boko Haram alone has claimed thousands of lives. Hun hun. Herdsmen have killed men and women in their hundreds. Hun hun. More lives have been lost to vehicle accidents on our poorly made, badly maintained roads. Well, hun hun. Many fingers have been caught in the national cookie jar. Ha. What is this? Who dunnit? But, o ma se o. hun hun. The national leaky bucket has a thousand holes. Ha, no country can live with this? Still, hen hun hun. We voted and there were promises of a new spirit of the age. But that spirit is yet to manifest. So? Nothing good comes easy, therefore. No miracles in the new agenda. So, ni igba yen wa n ko? So, life goes on.
Whatever life throws at the average Nigerian, he protests, he complains, but he accommodates it. It is the reason why nobody will throw stones because power supply is at the worst level in years. It is the reason why workers who have not been paid for months after months will still see the same Governor who is responsible for their misery, after collecting Federal money to help them, and has refused to deliver and they will still scream: “My Excellency, sir.” When workers go on strike, someone calls them together, says something nice, provides something nice and everything falls nicely in place. The late Chief MKO Abiola was quoted saying “eto ni gbogbo e”, that is anything in Nigeria can be arranged nicely.
The June 12 debacle sadly could not be arranged nicely. It cost the Chief of native wisdom and martyr of Nigerian democracy his life, but many lessons have been learnt. And one key lesson is that in this country, the people are determined to live no matter what. They can grumble as they wish about the public space but Nigerians are not ready to give up their will to live, their right to live and their understanding of how to live. And if you put your neck on the line on their behalf, you will be shocked that you will the subject of memes and what’s app jokes. The people laugh at martyrs and heroes because they see no reason why anyone should commit suicide, defending Nigeria, when there is so much life to be enjoyed.
Nigeria is probably the global headquarters of enjoyment. The way the ordinary man has complained in recent times, about political change and the socio-cultural changes it has brought, you would think Nigerians are in serious trouble. But that is not the case. The foreign exchange market has gone into a crazy overdrive impoverishing the whole nation. Parents whose children are schooling abroad are afraid that they may no longer be able to pay fees. The manufacturing sector is abusing the Minister of Finance-what’s-that-her-name-again? and where-did-she-learn-finance-public-policy-and-economics, but I beg, look around, more businesses are actually springing up and all those foreign investors who are supposedly monitoring the Nigerian market are actually clinging to this market. Why do you think MTN wants to remain in Nigeria till death do them part? Why do you think all those foreign countries want President Buhari to visit? The banks have retrenched a lot of staff but the same banks have started recruiting again. In this country, what you see is not what you get. There is problem with foreign exchange but activities at the ports have not ceased. Wait till September, you’d be shocked the number of Nigerian children heading towards Europe, North America and other parts of Africa in pursuit of expensive, forex-backed education.
I beg, leave matter. And if you don’t want to leave it go to the nearest fuel station where many Nigerians are queuing up for fuel with power generating sets and jerry cans. The people are going through the hardship but they are laughing at their leaders. You think you can mess us up, na lie. If you people like, sell fuel for N150, we go survive. They stay in front of that fuel station and they review Nigeria’s history and lament the choices they have made, but their spirit remains strong. That is what makes them Nigerian. Go to the vendors’ stand. The crowd of poor people who cannot afford to buy a newspaper copy, have all the same listened to the news and the only place where they can compete as pundits is that roadside corner, where sometimes one drunken idiot loses control behind the wheels and sheds human blood, wasting those who have gathered not to buy any newspaper but to debate Nigeria. This special crowd knows it all. You don’t want to get involved with them. They will remind you that a Ph.D holder is actually a real idiot, and that nobody needs certificates of any type to be a Nigerian, and well they add too, that if you ever worked in government, then you are a confirmed idiot, and a professional trickster.
Nigerians are so inventive, they find every way of beating bad news, bad experience, or anything that tries to defeat them. Everyone says there is no money in town, they claim things have gone from bad to worse but the parties have not stooped. Go to any of the joints around Lagos, nothing has been spoiled. Isi ewu, nkwobi, asun, sawa, orisirisi, point and kill have all defied the Forex market. Yes, the price of staple commodities has risen, but that has not stopped the people from throwing lavish wedding parties. Nor has it stopped anybody from marrying three times when once is enough: our people do traditional wedding – valid, they go to the registry: valid, they rush to church- valid: rather than marry once, they do it thrice all within a week. Nor has the austerity in town stopped anybody from burying the dead as if the more money is thrown at the grave, the likeliest the possibility of the dead suddenly becoming a Lazarus of the 21stcentury.
Is there poverty in town? You answer that question based on the evidence of your eyes. What I have seen is that Nigerians are still living as if there is too much money in the country. Take a look at the garments Nigerians wear every week. We certainly don’t look like electricity is a problem or that money is in short supply. Soon it will be another Ojude oba among the Ijebus, for example. You go and check them out. As a teacher at Ogun State University in those days, (I served later as member of the Governing Council), we used to go from one party to the other, guzzling free food and quaffing free drinks. Today, those lavish parties have not ceased. Nobody eats like that in Europe or North America. When you go to all the old joints, in Agarawu in Lagos or Tarmac, nothing has changed either. The music still flows, the swag is on. Elsewhere, new buildings are springing up; new cars are being “washed”, additional wives are being acquired. Leave matter, I beg. Nigeria will survive, and these same people who are complaining about change, you’d be shocked, they’d still vote for their stomachs in 2019.
And that is why Nigeria is one country that beats all the textbook theories. We are just something else. There is more in the social arena that defines who we are, than in the theoretical arena. The same people who are complaining that they have not seen change are actually hoping for more. They are not ready to adjust. They are not ready to make sacrifices. If they have an opportunity to be close to government in any way, they will jump at it. The corruption that we talk about is not just in government corridors, it is in society, but the one inside society is so difficult to trap because it is amorphous and inchoate in so many respects. Invariably, the snake feeds on itself: mobius strip.
What we are left with is the image of the people laughing at government and themselves. Have you taken time out to check what happens on social media? Anybody who ever ventured into governance is easy game. The people design caricatures and mock them. Nigeria produces more memes and graphics than any other country in Africa not necessarily because of the events that happen here but because of the people’s consciousness, and if I may add, private greed. In that other world, political change is ridiculed, poverty is deplored, GEJ is becoming a saint and PMB a villain, but the people are still having fun, and blaming Nigeria and the politicians.
I tell you, the problem with Nigeria is not the politicians but the people themselves. We are very special people, but we don’t really know what we want, and because we are like that, we confuse the politicians and the nation. But for as long as we can wear those impressive attires and throw those parties and dance to old music and pay our private bills, we see no reason to care enough. Pity is: no country can ever move ahead if the people do not care enough. For us, life goes on, no matter what.
In this same country – Reuben Abati Writes
There is today in Nigeria an entire generation of Nigerian-passport wielding men and women who do not actually know, to borrow Achebe’s words that indeed “there was once a country”. These children born in a season of austerity, and raised during the years that the locusts ate, have become angry citizens. They are angry because they live in a country that makes them feel less worthy than the human standard. The only Nigeria that they know is a country that makes them feel ashamed of their own origins. Many of them have enjoyed the privilege of foreign education and exposure to some of the best traditions in other parts of the world, but when they return to their own country, right from the airport, the snow of failure and inefficiency strikes them in the face, leaving them with no option but to wonder quo vadis Nigeria? It is the same question that their parents asked and the tragedy is that their own children except something else happens, are likely to ask exactly this same old and vexed question.
The angst of this young generation is made worse when they are told that Nigeria was not always like this. In their late 20s to thirties, these children have only known that Nigeria where fuel scarcity is a fact of daily life, and part of the mechanism of survival is to know how to draw fuel with your mouth, or negotiate black market purchase of fuel, while lugging jerry cans, either at the fuel station or a roadside corner where you cannot be sure of the quality of fuel – all of that in a country that is the world’s sixth largest producer of crude oil. These children have only known a country where the roads are bad, services are sub-standard, people are mean, criminality is rife, and electricity is available once in a blue moon.
What they know is a country where the pastors and malams are better known for lying, swearing, cheating, calling the name of God in vain. In their Nigeria, public and private officials are lazy, and unproductive, they just want to reap, and they have sucked the country so dry, her glands are wasted, flat, going South and no more presentable, the balloon has suffered a blow out, even the blind can see that this is so. These angry children are no longer proud of the green passport; because the Constitution allows dual citizenship, they’d rather grab the citizenship of another country, and remain linked to Nigeria only by blood, and that is the case because they have parents who would not want them to de-link completely, but if they don’t, their own children and their own children after them, are already being lost to countries where things work, where the basic necessities of life are taken for granted and where the future is not a distant, unknown, and impossible destination.
The anger and the nonchalance of this generation of Nigerians is the pain and the agony of an older generation that knew a different country before all things went kaput and Nigeria became a byword for the unhinged, the dark, the ugly and the regrettable. Our generation and the generation before us knew a different country. And because that is so, memory is an affliction, a source of torment, nostalgia and regret, more so as that distant past now seems so unattainable not because distance often makes the past look better, but because in Nigeria, the past is sorrily idyllic. Those who lived in that other country and are still alive could not have forgotten so soon, because to forget something that important is to self-deny, it is to pretend, it is to abuse, it is in all, an act of pitiable abnegation.
How could we have forgotten? How can anyone possibly forget? That this was once a country where Nigerians felt at home in virtually any part of the country. Igbos lived peacefully in the North, and Fulani herdsmen were at peace with other Nigerians, and there was no issue with the planting of yams or the grazing of cattle. In this same country, Southerners lived for decades in the North, acquired property and spoke the language of their hosts. We grew up knowing Baba Kaduna, Daddy Kano, Mama Kafanchan, Uncle Porta, just as persons from the East and the South South contested for elective positions in the West and won. There was a civil war yes, and things began to change but even after the war, it was never this bad. Nigerians from the South still went on national assignment in the North, Christians and Muslims tried to live together in peace, but today, things have fallen apart.
There is no open civil war, but this country is at war on all fronts, the worst fronts being the ethnic, the religious and the political, and these post-civil war children just can’t understand why the generations of their fathers and grandmothers can’t run an efficient country. They have been taught in school that every nation has problems, but leadership is about managing those problems and building a happy nation. They hear about the big names of Nigerian history, the statesmen who fought for independence, the Amazons who defended the place of women in national decision making processes, the accomplished scientists, the literati and cultural workers, but the historical figures who have made the biggest impression on them are the ones who ruined the nation with their acts of omission and commission.
In this same country, the Naira used to be at par with the pound and was for many years stronger than the dollar. So strong was the Naira that many Nigerians, including the lower middle class could afford to travel to London on Friday evening, attend a party in London on Saturday, attend church service on Sunday, check out one or two mistresses in paid-for flats in different parts of London, and return to Nigeria early enough on Monday morning to be able to go to work. All that was no big deal. Everyone in London knew the Nigerians. They were the biggest spenders and they threw the best parties. There was Nigeria Airways; owned and operated by the Nigerian government and it was one of the best airlines in Africa. Its pilots were rated among the best in the world. Its safety record was superb. And it was affordable. It was the pride of the nation. Within the country, Nigeria Airways was also efficient. A trip from Lagos to Calabar in those days was just N44! Students enjoyed rebates too.
In this same country, once upon a time, public transportation was impressive. In Lagos for example, the public transportation system was almost exactly a version of what they have in London. This may sound like something being made up to the younger generation, but it is nothing but the truth. The railway system worked too, and one of the most prestigious jobs was to be a railway staff. That same Nigerian Railway Corporation that is now a parody of its former self, used to link up the entire country and it helped to build cities and villages, as the various major train stations became commercial centres. Today, railway transportation looks like something we are trying to reinvent.
Once upon a time in this same country, those who sent their children abroad did so majorly out of choice, not necessity, because Nigerian schools were among the best in the continent and the world. Teachers from different parts of the world, the best and the brightest, sought employment in Nigerian schools. The Naira was strong, investors-both commercial and intellectual – trooped to this country in droves and they enriched us in many ways. The schools were well-equipped; they attracted students and teachers based on their reputation.
Parents sent their own children to their alma mater out of loyalty, and regard for tradition. That pattern of grandfather, father and son attending the same secondary school seems to have ended; the public schools in Nigeria have failed, the missionary schools of old have been destroyed by hostile government take-over, back in the hands of the missions, the destruction is yet to be fully corrected. The younger generation reflects on all this: mostly products of private schools, they can’t understand why a country that still prides itself as the giant of Africa cannot run a decent education system or provide jobs for the products of its school system.
In this same county, we used to have industrial estates. In Lagos, Apapa, Ikeja and Isolo were industrial estates. In Kaduna, Jos, and Enugu, manufacturing companies created jobs and wealth. We had uncles and aunties who used to do shifts in many factories and this country produced things: from refrigerators to bulbs to vehicles to metals to books, to textiles to shoes. Sad: many of those factories have become churches! In those days, if you went into a bookshop, you could not miss the mint-fresh smell of the books on display. I miss that smell. There are fewer bookstores today and the books no longer smell the same, because by the time they are imported and passed through dirty containers and the hands of thieving handlers, the books lose their soul.
Once upon a time in this same country, there was so much hope about tomorrow. Salaries were paid as and when due. State governments offered students bursaries and scholarships. School was attractive because the teachers were dedicated and they were smart. At the university level, the government provided subsidized tuition and feeding; the rooms were kept clean by staff, the libraries were well-stocked; there was light and water and town-gown relationship was just fine. In the larger society, the present regime of no water, no fuel, no electricity was unheard of. You may have heard of the British standard, there was in fact at a time, the Nigerian standard, and this was the standard that other Africans looked up to. This same country dominated the continent, morally, intellectually and culturally. Financially too: so rich was Nigeria that a former Head of State reportedly boasted that our problem was not money but how to spend it!
But, sorry, we lost it all. And the rains began to beat us. The victims are the younger ones who have not known any other country but this new one. The danger is: they may never know how to make a difference when they inherit this poisoned chalice called Nigeria
Olajumoke Orisaguna: The Nigerian Cinderella |By : Reuben Abati
About three weeks ago, 27-year old Olajumoke Orisaguna was a complete unknown on the streets of Lagos, hawking bread. A loaf of bread is about N100, and even with a full tray such as she carried in her first public embrace of fame, her whole ware for a day may not be more than N3,000, with daily profit between N300-N700.
She had trained as a hair stylist, got married but had to leave her husband and a daughter back home in Ire, Osun state, to ‘hustle’ as it were in Lagos. The life of a bread seller in Lagos is easily imaginable: exposure to the elements, to sundry abuse, including the possibility of being raped by unruly artisans and bachelors, who will offer to buy bread and something else along with it, if the hawker is willing.
This was Olajumoke Orisaguna’s reality until she ran into TY Bello and Tinie Tempah and her life changed. Today, she has been enrolled as a model. Her story has appeared in all newspapers, on CNN, Huffington Post, and virtually everywhere online.
Two companies: StanbicIBTC and PayPorte have made her their brand ambassador. The former even awarded her two daughters scholarships up to university level. Her face has appeared on the cover of magazines. She is now a student at Poise Finishing School, an intern with two beauty salons, and a motivational speaker, even if she reportedly can’t speak English.
When she went to the office of the National Identity Management Commission to get an identity card, NIMC also cashed in on her new found fame to use her to promote the agency: “Olajumoke knows she needs to NIMC. She walked into a NIMC centre yesterday unsolicited. Olajumoke is smart. Be like her.” This must be the most saccharine endorsement of Olajumoke so far.
To crown it all, a construction company has given her a luxury apartment in Lagos. From hawking bread in Agege, she is now within weeks, the darling of corporate Nigeria, the poster girl for corporate social responsibility, a landlady, and a role model. She had probably never seen the inside of an aircraft, but a few days ago, she was on a flight to Abuja to give a speech!
Mrs Orisaguna is Nigeria’s Cinderella. Hers is a sudden, unplanned, unexpected, unprepared for grass to grace, rags to riches story, a kind of I–just-dey-waka-my-own-jeje-luck-come-jam-me-tale. It doesn’t happen everyday. It is the kind of accident that many Nigerians seek: accidental fame and fortune. It is perhaps the magical, miraculous, I-don’t believe-it-but-it-is-true quality of this story that has captured the public imagination.
Olajumoke was hawking her bread innocently in Sabo, when she stumbled upon a photo session by that gifted mother of twins, artist and photographer, TY Bello, working on a series of shots for the international hip hop star, Tinie Tempah.
We have been told that Olajumoke Orisaguna ‘photobombed’ herself into the activity. I guess she just happened to walk by trying to sell bread, and TY Bello who is a spirit in action when she is at work, had a brain wave and took her picture. Enormously creative, T Y Bello thinks on her feet. When she has that her big camera in her hands, she is an agile, inventive artist.
Her camera is a weapon for interpreting space and reality, and for discovering new meanings. It must have occurred to her that asking the international musician to pose with a bread seller would give the picture a much deeper meaning, inherent in the open contrasts and auto-suggestions. It is that split second decision that has turned Jumoke Orisaguna into a superstar.
The shot was brilliant, the result was impressive with people asking: ‘Who is that girl? She will make a good model.’ TY Bello took on the challenge, and became Olajumoke Orisaguna’s promoter, mentor, adviser, godmother, and supporter, taking her to new heightswithin three weeks. Nobody is talking about Tempah, the main subject of the photo shoot; the focus is on the wanderer who walked onto the set, the bread seller who has taken the bread of the show, the waka-pass whobecame the star. I understand Tempah is quite happy; don’t be surprised then if he composes a special song soon, titled ‘The Bread Seller!’ or ‘Photobombed’ or simply ‘Olajumoke.’
The Olajumoke Orisaguna story is a perfect demonstration of the witchcraft quality of photography and that single shot that has changed a life may well be one of TY Bello’s most remarkable efforts in her chosen genre. But I find around Olajumoke’s sudden transformation from person to brand, too much capitalist hypocrisy and opportunism.
The brand is selling like hot cake, but the person needs protection. I feel for her. I fear for her. There is a sense in which she is a potential victim. The brand experts now taking her from place to place probably would not have even patronized her. They don’t eat the kind of bread that she sold.
Many of them don’t even know what part of Lagos is called Sabo. They don’t buy their bread from hawkers; they would rather go to supermarkets or confectionery stores. Before luck smiled on this young lady, many of those now posing for photos with her would never have noticed her presence.
There are definitely many of her type, still hawking bread, or some other items, some even sitting in front of the bank, with a baby strapped to the back, but they may never be noticed or helped. The same companies that are using Olajumoke to talk about corporate social responsibility, are actually joking, they know that this is not CSR; it is brand exploitation!
And it may not last. There is nothing in Olajumoke’s background or exposure that has prepared her for the life of glitz being imposed on her. The skills she has acquired as a bread seller and hair stylist may not carry her far in the cruel world of modeling. When this blitz is over, she will need to compete for jobs and attention, if she must remain a model.
She will have to learn sooner or later, to survive on her own. She will have to maintain the luxury apartment that she has been given. She has been taught fancy dressing, including the magic of make up and those magical colours that change a dull face into a phallus-teasing one do not come cheap.
She is at best an art work that other people have created: she has been made up into a siren, her hitherto dull skin now glows, in one photo, her hair had a queenly allure, they have given her new clothes, jazzing her up, to look feminine and sensual, and they have taught her how to smile in a tempting manner. Wow. That smile!
The sorry part of it all is that her narrative is quite innocent and hauntingly brief, as is the case with all overnight sensations. The capitalist hypocrites will soon find something else to excite them, just as the media will find a new story.
It probably would have been much better to help Olajumoke Orisaguna set up a small-scale business, to take her off the street-life of hawking, rather than this world of sharks into which she has been thrown. Perhaps the best that has been done for her is sending her on internship at beauty salons. She could at least set up a beauty salon of her own and live happily thereafter.
In a normal society, no young woman should be on the streets hawking bread in order to survive. In a normal society, Olajumoke Orisaguna would have been given the opportunity to go to school, and have a proper career. She is being given, all within three weeks, the kind of empowerment that society has denied her and many like her, but how about all the other Olajumokes who may never ‘photobomb’ their way to luck?
Her new life is a reminder of what she could have been but which she could not become because of the kind of society in which she has found herself. She should never have had to hawk bread to support her husband and children.
Her husband! Yes, Mr. Sunday Orisaguna. I have seen him in the photographs, either carrying their baby, or just putting up appearance. He looks lost, confused, overwhelmed, harassed and uncertain. He must be wondering what has happened or is happening to the woman he married.
There is a clear difference between Olajumoke, the wife and bread seller, and Olajumoke, the model and celebrity. While Olajumoke is beginning to wear designer clothes, her humble husband is still managing his one-day-me-too-go-jam-luck attires. His wife has been sent to finishing school. By the time she finishes, I hope her new persona will not finish her marriage.
Olajumoke is now learning to speak English, but her husband is a humble, sliding door installer who probably speaks only Yoruba. In our kind of society, given the social level and cultural background of the parties involved, it won’t be long before the demons will begin to crawl out of the woods, from in-laws who may begin to psycho-analyse Olajumoke, to family members who will scrutinize her every gesture, and friends with whom she hawked bread and has now left behind.
Lack of clarity over role interpretation and the new persona could also confuse the young mother. She needs a different set of skills to manage new relationships, especially the new friends coming her way, including those lecherous uncles who may show up and seek to exploit her innocence.
The people turning her into a sex symbol should also tarry a while, and remember that she is a married mother of two. She needs counseling. And her sliding door installer husband, who has featured in her fairytale so far as a hanger-on, no matter what happens, should not be made to slide away. Sunday Orisaguna should also be counseled, given new clothes, taught English and sent to finishing school. He should not be left behind.