HALF-BAKED… OR NOT?

The Nigeria of these days is rather amazing. It is one that is quite disheartening. We toil and struggle to go to school in this present day Nigeria, yet we are derided and called different names, addressed in different uncomplimentary ways, ways unbefitting of people of our standing.

People of the generation before mine went to school in Nigeria when it was convenient to go; they went at a time when one would be very happy to be a student of tertiary institution. They were students when dear Mama Naija was great enough to cater for her youths, cater for her students.

They did not bother about cooking their meals while in school; they never bothered about doing laundries. They did not go through the stress and hassles of transportation on campus or having to live off-campus because the edict establishing their school made it non-residential, like some of our new institutions of higher learning.

The students of these present-day Nigeria go through a lot of stress. Apart from having to gain admission in manners harder than that of a camel passing through the eye of a needle, they face a lot of problems. Lectures are fixed arbitrarily, fixed in manners that are only comfortable for the lecturers without any bit of pity for the students.

The lecturers get to call the students all sorts of names. They do these for reasons best known to them. Students are hounded and victimized, they are grounded and vilified. They only find solace in the hands and hearts of some colleagues of like minds and of course, their sponsors and loved ones. It may even be one of the reasons students are engaged with ‘that very close someone’, they may need to share their burdens with one of them who is ready to give a shoulder to lean on.
Now who is to blame for all these katakata (confusion)? The generation before us had it so good. In some parts of the country, it was free education at all levels. With the likes of Chief Obafemi Awolowo in the saddle of leadership, one had no cause to worry about going to school, or not. It was a matter of not going and feeling so inferior to those who have gone.

It was easy to go to school; they made it easy for you. You just wanted to be in school and work your socks off. You wanted to work your fingers to the bones because you knew it was all about lots of reading and then some, or lots of socializing, depending on where you belong.

That has changed now though. With all sectors progressively deteriorating, education and morals also gave way. Schools became a shadow of themselves right from primary to tertiary. Private institutions now top the chart and the mere mention of you attending a public institution sees you looked down upon, as if those that now send children to private schools attended one.

All that does not bug me anyway. The major thing that pisses me off is having someone refer to me derogatorily as ‘half baked’. The folks responsible for the decline are those that parade themselves as reformists. They are the ones now crying and shouting, panting and puffing that they want to reform the educational system in my dear country.

They will not come out straight to address issues; they will not come out plain to say that they and their fathers caused the rot. The fathers will only call us names while the sons nod in agreement. They will just raise their voice to get the silly attention they desire from the media.

The generation before mine wants to impose standards on my generation, standards of back then without actually making everything they had available to us. They had it so good, they enjoyed every basic necessity from water and electricity to good roads, they had all the equipment needed for practicals in their laboratories and will not go and rent a skeleton in town, like what obtains today. Everything worked in their favour.

I can go on and on about everything they had and how it was in place while they were growing. Let’s place both generations side by side. How many truly brilliant students get scholarships these days? How many?

If you showed a bit of promise back then, you were considered for scholarship. These days, you are not considered if you have nobody in the corridors of power. Everything was on merit then but what do we get now? They employ someone worse off than you while you walk about the corners of your neighborhood in your well-worn slippers and trousers, waiting for a miracle to happen.
Employment opportunities waited for them back then after their school. In fact, as a high school graduate, you were accorded respect. God help you and you finish Polytechnic or University, a good job and then a brand new Peugeot 504, 505 or Volkswagen beetle car was waiting for you. You had no stress getting the cash needed to get settled.

Place the Naija youth of today in the same shoes and you’ll see wonders. What we get however is the exact opposite of what they experienced, yet they show-off their agbada and babanriga in front of the television cameras and belch nonsense that we are half-baked. They forget that they caused it all.

After the pre-independence and first generation of leaders came those ones we can call bastards. They destroyed our common heritage and today, they shout themselves hoarse because they see a newspaper guy and a television lady, they have nothing to say but they want their face to be seen on TV and newspaper pages, saying something. That ‘something’ which in many cases is outright rubbish and balderdash.

Have they bothered to ask themselves why Nigerian youths thrive in well-organized societies? They will not. It is a question too hard for them. There is a particular Vice-Chancellor in Nigeria today. His school is in the place that calls itself the north, despite being closely affiliated with the South.

A lecturer who was a colleague back then questioned the guy’s moral right to do some things which he presently does. He said they had full chicken for their meals and the day it was reduced to half, this particular VC, then a student, led the protest. He is today one of the voices that stifle student uprising. He is the one who champions double-standards and injustice in his school today.

How much did they pay in government institutions back then? Today, we are made to pay through the nose. Sometimes last week, the papers were awash with stories of an institution neighboring the one earlier mentioned. They increased their fees to N100,000. Yet they come out and shout that the economy has been destroyed.
While I was in that school, I did not pay up to N30,000 as my fees for the five years I studied there. Yet we say the students are interested in getting rich quick while forgetting that we give them no choice because they are from indigent homes.
They have made education a luxury for people that are struggling, it is totally out of their reach now.

Mission institutions are not left out. The story I heard was that they were the ones that were readily available for everyone back then. The St. Andrews and St. Joseph schools, the Anwar-ul-Islam and the Ansarudeen (popularly called AUD) schools, were cheap enough for everyone. What do we have now? Costly schools some people dare not near. Yet they open their mouths and call us half-baked. Who baked us half way? No be them?

Leave me, let me vent my anger. I’m bitter at these people. Why should I suffer in school for years only to be called ‘half-baked’? In my first year, well over 5,000 students cramped inside two halls to receive lectures. In my second year, we had to wait for one set to finish their practical before we did our own. In my third year, we had to take lectures in the laboratory, because there were not enough lecture halls available for use.

In my fourth year, we used primitive tools for our practicals. In my finals, I had to combine my research project with class lectures, there was finding no balance. I graduate after all the stress and still get labeled ‘half-baked’? Total nonsense!
Me I get luck o. Some folks did not even see their laboratories or how it looked like. They struggled all through school for no fault of theirs. They had extra year or years as the case may be because one dumb fellow say they are not serious. One dumb man, called a lecturer says more than three-quarter of his students are not serious and he fails them. Is that not a half-baked lecturer? Nemesis catches up with people and has caught up with this ‘bad news’.

I have sworn that if anyone, I mean anyone from the sixties, seventies and early eighties refer to me as half-baked, I’ll give that person a piece of my mind. Tell him or her it’s their generation, a generation of waste and rape, that set the tone for what we experience now.

Is there anyone who calls you that derogatory name (half-baked)? Tell them you are righting their wrong. I’m outta here. Let me go do something that will improve my mood.

SENATOR(?) DORA AKUNYILI

Quite a lot is happening in Nigeria these days. From the deaths to the funny politics, it just leaves you scratching your head to know which of the things to actually do the writing and blogging on.
Events have actually overtaken some of them but it does not mean I cannot still reflect on them, or does it? From the Sanusi versus House of Representatives thing, to the Atiku consensus thing and even the various verbal wars going on all because of the 2011 general elections.
This week however, some other events joined the already long list. The first noteworthy event this week was the passage of elder statesman and father of modern Nigeria, Pa Anthony Eromesele Enahoro at the age of 87. The man sure lived a good life, leaving his marks on the sand of time, even if the ruling class has made the Nigeria of his dreams a mirage.
Joining Pa Enahoro later in the week was one of Nigeria’s foremost Fuji musicians, Alhaji Sikiru Ayinde Balogun, popularly known as Barrister. He was said to have died earlier in the year only for the press to recant. We thought the worst was over but it was not to be as Barry Wonder finally bade the world bye. My tribute to this wonderful duo will come in due course.
The other event that interested me and I’m sure, a few others is the resignation of Mama Dora. Prof. Akunyili, resigned her post as Information Minster to contest as a Senator come 2011. That in itself was the major attraction for me this week.
With all due respect to Pa Enahoro and Barry Wonder, I’d prefer to talk about Mrs. Akunyili for now. i’ll then come back to do a tribute for the departed. We are still on the same side with Akunyili while the celebrated duo has taken their bow, breathing their last.
I had earlier read during the week that the former NAFDAC boss would resign to contest but I just read the story in passing. It finally happened and there was this banner headline two days later – “Akunyili Resigns”. I saw Mama Dora all smiles, handing over to Mr. Labaran Maku, her erstwhile Minister of State who has been promoted.
I don’t know what prompted the patriot who has served meritoriously while in NAFDAC. The amazon who laid her life on the line in the war against fake drugs leaving the Ministry for the hallowed chambers, that is if it is ever hallowed. I shudder at the thought of Prof. Akunyili rendering herself useless in the Senate.
I had always known Mrs. Akunyili would one day join mainstream politics but I did not know it would be in a fashion like this. I did not expect her to vie for a Senatorial seat. I did not even know it would be like this. She has made her decision and no one can change it.
Someone asked me the post I expect her to vie for if not the Senate considering the fact that there is no gubernatorial election in Anambra, her home state in 2011. I actually am not a fan of Akunyili in the Senate. I would rather have her in a place where she’ll have more impact.
I do not want her to join set of people in the National Assembly. I’d have loved to see Dora in better company than in the Red Chambers where those self serving bigots hold sway. I do not want to believe Mrs. Akunyili is drawn to the Senate by the megabucks Nigerian Senators earn. I just want to trust her sense of judgment, fold my hands and see what will happen.
Something tells me Akunyili is preparing herself for something bigger and only wants to start from the Senate. It all remains to be seen though. I hope she would not be dragged in the mud along with the others.
Meanwhile, as we all await the unfolding of events, I rest my case and see if one more appellation would be added to the ones Professor Dora Akunyili already carries.
On a final note, I want to celebrate the departed- Pa Anthony Enahoro, the last of the titans and Mr. Fuji, Alhaji Sikiru Ayinde Balogun. They made impacts on the lives of people around them and quite a lot of good would be said about them.
I need you to ask yourself what would be said about you when you die. Enahoro has done his bit, Barrister has done his bit, make sure you do your own.

RAUF VS LAGUN IN OSUN: MY TAKE

15:26 hrs, November 29
What is good luck? As I stepped out of my office a couple of minutes ago, I heard a splat on my head. Lo and behold, it was a passing bird that sent a message to me. It showered me with some droppings right in the middle of my big, coconut head. This is another issue for another day anyway.
In my part of the world, it is said that when a bird flies over your head and dashes you some faeces while moving, it is a sign of good luck. If that is the good luck that some people have recently been enjoying, I’ll rather welcome it. I’ll welcome it because I need it in every part of my life, especially in the love, loving and relationship aspect of things which has been a bit turbulent in a while.
Perhaps, that was the good luck that has smiled on the Action Congress of Nigeria in the past few weeks. That political party and her members have had to fight tooth and nail for every post they presently hold, especially that of state Chief Executives.
Like it happened sometimes in October in the South west Nigerian state of Ekiti, the breeze, or better put, wind of change blew across the land on Friday November 26, 2010 and blew away the Olagunsoye Oyinlola led-PDP government in Osun state. It was received with glee. Folks were happy all over the place – shouts of joy, screams of happiness, leaps of victory and other expressions that cannot be adequately expressed in writing were the order of the day in Osun, my home state.
Justice Clara Ogunbiyi and her colleagues have unwittingly written themselves into the good side of the record books of Nigeria. Conversely, one gentleman that answers the name Thomas Naron and members of both the first and second Osun state 2007 Election Petition Tribunal have written themselves in the other side of the history books.
I keep looking for a way to rhyme Naron’s name with something significantly negative. If it would be Thomas Aaron, then it would be that part of Aaron, the Israelite High Priest in Bible times that made the golden calf for Israelites to engage in idolatry.
Mr. Justice Thomas Naron had the chance to write his name in gold like Justice Ogunbiyi and her learned colleagues but chose to go the naira way, the way of perdition. It is an open secret, a common knowledge, that the retired Brigadier General who held sway in Osun state until last Friday and his boys did well to grease the palms of the first Election Petition Tribunal that was set up in the aftermath of the 2007 general elections.
Rauf and his team headed to the Appeal Court after Naron and his team turned the blind eye to all weighty allegations of electoral fraud before them. I remember sometimes shortly after the elections that a friend called me from Osogbo. He told me point blank that PDP and Prince Oyinlola openly used brute force to win the elections.
I stand on the fact that elections are not won in Nigeria anyway. It is rigged and the announced winner is the one who has out-rigged his rivals. I do not want to be corrected though. This is an issue for another day anyway.
The then ruling PDP had things in her favour – cool, hard cash, incumbency, federal might and a lot more. They made their money speak for them, gave the hungry members of the bench something to chew, and reduced them to young people begging for recharge cards. Or are there no evidences in the Tell Magazine that printed their call and S.M.S logs?
The then AC had a lot of doggedness, as exemplified by Rauf Aregbesola, the former SUG President of The Polytechnic Ibadan; the financial and physical backing of Asiwaju Bola Tinubu, the immediate past Governor of Lagos; the good side of Information and Communication Technology (ICT) as used by the late Adrian Forty, their forensic expert and lots of other monitoring devices which came from the InfoTech world and the support of majority of the Osun people among other factors.
We voted, they voted, everyone voted. PDP rigged, AC rigged, thugs clashed, touts fought and at the end of the day, everyone knew whoever won had fought a keenly contested battle. The bald-headed Iwu’s INEC and OBJ said PDP won. AC went bunkers, claiming a lot of irregularities and pronto, went to the Tribunal. The Tribunal was fruitless for AC and they went straight to the Appellate Court.
Good luck smiled on Aregbesola, his party, and their appeal and they went back to a new Tribunal. The new Tribunal, cousins to Thomas Naron’s, also said it was the honey man, Olagunsoye Oyinlola that should continue his hold on power, and that the ex- Lagos MILAD did.
He changed from honey to the bee and stung quite some folks who were never in his support, openly denying them the small dividend of democracy he had to offer. In stinging in different parts of the state, the paramount ruler of Aregbesola’s part of the state was the first to have a taste of the bee’s sting. He was being stung while others were enjoying the honey.
Some others paid the price for being avowed AC supporters. It was quite a battle that nearly consumed the lead fighter himself. At a time, Aregbe, as the new Governor is widely called, was accused of faking the Police report he tendered before the Tribunal.
Mike Okiro did what he could, tagged the gentleman different names and stopped short of calling him a tout. It was a battle indeed. Some people had already given up, they had told dogged Rauf to throw his hat into the ring for 2011 and forget all about 2007. The guy simply refused to give up, his backers did not back down or back out; they were staunch in his support, they stood with and by him and the result is there for all to see.
Olagunsoye Oyinlola has done his bit; his only blot was wanting to cling on to power when he should have left. No matter what bad people have said he did while in the saddle, it is on record that the teachers his immediate predecessor and now ACN Chairman, Chief Bisi Akande, sacked while in office were reinstated by him. The fact that Osun can boast of her own state University can be attributed to Oyin, even if he made the school out of the reach of the masses. He had his pluses while he held sway in the state of the living spring. He only screwed things up in his second term, a term which was not his own from the start.
What I think Mr. Aregbesola should do is change the bad impression Akande, his party chair, has created in the mind of many Osun people while he was Governor under the platform of the old Alliance for Democracy, a party which broke into pieces and part of which is the present ACN. Akande would have been a very good Governor if not for some administrative blunders he committed while in office.
It is Aregbesola’s call, his chance to make history in Osun. It is his choice to either continue being celebrated or have his head being called for on a platter after a few months in the saddle. Remember what a section of the American populace is doing for Mr. Obama now; they want him to fix the mess of George Bush’s eight years in just two years. People want miracles overnight and I hope Rauf can do just one that will keep Osun people salivating at least for some time.
I do not think Oyinlola has lost anything save for the fact that he was sacked by the Court. He has been warming up to contest as a Senator next year. The only person who has lost at least for now and who would have lost in a level playing field is one man that is call Christopher Iyiola Omisore.
The young man who won a Senate seat while standing trial (that alone is funny to make you laugh and tumble over) has been nursing the ambition to be Osun Governor come 2011 but may have to wait at least until 2014 to have that ambition realized.
Aregbesola was Commissioner for Works under Tinubu, I hope he has something to bring to Osun so I can brag the more about being an Osun indigene through and through. I want to believe Governor Rauf is not just about power, but about delivery of goodies to Osun and her teeming masses. It is only by doing that that the ousted PDP government would not mock Osun people, it is only by giving us a better deal that we would have our own new Osun state.
The fact that the Court has told PDP and Mr. Oyinlola to vacate Abere for Mr. Aregbesola is not the problem. It calls for celebration in that we may be getting it right. Let those who want to celebrate do it and do it anyhow they like, either moderately or over-the-top.
What I think should be addressed is the issue of holding an office illegally and getting away with all salaries, emoluments, security votes and entitlements. The Nigerian system should find a way of getting back all the salaries that these illegal political office holders have collected over the years.
Youths roam the streets without jobs, some hardworking men can hardly feed their families but some people smile to the bank every month and sometimes weekly and daily for holding offices, political offices that do not belong to them. They get paid for years and are eventually booted out after almost finishing another person’s term. I find it sad.
To make it worse, they would have employed SAs, SSAs, PAs and other unnecessary Assistants and it is government that pays these staffers. I think the new Electoral laws of the land should make provisions for this anomaly.
They would have eaten enough dough over the period of time spent in government that asking them to return the basic salaries they were paid while illegally occupying office would not be bad.
The game goes on as 2011 approaches but for my dear Osun state, I say congratulations. To Mr. Aregbesola, I salute his courage and say Bravo! Nigeria shall be great once again and my generation shall enjoy after suffering while growing.
Enter Rauf, and let the music go on…

OCTOBER 30TH REFLECTI- SLEEP AND SLEEPING

09.01 HRS, 30th October
The biggest risk we all take in life and destiny is sleep. I was going through my journal yesterday and I saw one of my writings in the journal I did while my stay in Taraba state of Nigeria lasted. This writing was originally done June 2nd 2009. I hope you find it interesting reading:
As I sit on my students’ bench and table in Kwambai, the sleepy village in Taraba state where I presently serve my country, Nigeria, I’m kind of remembering the photo finish that my day was yesterday. Full and lots of activities and lots of strenuous exercises.
The way I drifted off to sleep and finally dreamland yesterday was shocking. Is that how we sleep not to wake up again? Na wa O!
So all the ambitious rants and plans just end up like that. I mean it could even have finished before starting. Yes it can, at least you sleep. What happens if one day I sleep and wake up in the other world, a world farther than dreamland?
I’ve never visited there though but I know that other world is not a world of dreams, not a world of ambitions, not that world of rat race where we the hustle and bustle ends nowhere.
Do you want to know the truth? Yesterday night made me think of my life in that other world where the only thing you will not do is WORRY. That world where you don’t have to bother about paying bills – electricity, water, children’s fees, cable TV bills and even ashewo and gigolo bills.
That world where the school you attended and the level of your education does not matter. The world in which you do not need a wife to make you happy; where you do not need a girlfriend not to talk of her getting angry because you have not called her today. A world different from this in all areas and ramifications.
Truth be told, I got scared when I woke up this morning feeling so scared. What if I drifted into that eternal sleep, what would have happened? Okay, people would’ve cried abi? Is it all of them that will cry because they feel good about me? NOPE!
Many of the tears (if I get any) would be for people’s selfish end. That guy who thought we could have done something together and has now seen the hope of that faded. That beauty that has been swaying her generously loaded bust and hips to attract me would cry because she finally would not have that chance. Those folks whose moods improve when they see me would also spare me a sob or two although it will not be because they love me, it’ll be because of what they’ll miss in me.
The good thing however is that no one, I mean nobody is irreplaceable in life. Some folks would be like “you see, see where he has ended it after all the posings and formings”. “I think we told him to relax a bit and live less on the fast lane”. Some would even be indifferent, “too bad he’s dead”, they’ll say.
But wait a minute, can you try write your OBITUARY yourself? Be honest with yourself, you know where you have been good and otherwise. Your obituary is not that glossy poster they put in front of your house and office when you die, it is not what people write in the condolence register (na lie full that register). Your obituary, my obituary, our obituary does not even have to relate to what happened in the mortuary, it is what people say of the kind of life you lived – “that boy was just wonderful, why did I not allow him to get a feel of me?”, young Eves would say. A lot of other people would say other stuff like “Did he forget that the end would come one day?”
Try evaluate yourself in a very honest way. As for me, I know how mine would read; I know the BUTS and FLAWS; I know the positive side of it. What I want to do is change my buts to a more positive side so that when I sleep and wake in another world one day, I’ll look at you and you and hear you speak well of me because life after death is not the number of houses you built while you bestrode the land; not the number of girls you had; not the number of guys that chased after you; it is not the number of folks that cry before you are planted; it is even not how attractive, unique and beautiful your glass casket looks. It is what folks say after you are gone.
What will be said of you? You’re asking me? I’ll still be around for some more time but I’ll make sure people say good and remember me for good me when I just go and long after I am gone.

BETWEEN FIRST BANK AND CITIZEN DUROJAYE JOB ADEYEMI

I saw in one of the dailies this week and on an internet forum where I get to rub minds with people what First Bank has said about citizen extraordinaire, Durojaye Job Adeyemi, a HND II student of The Polytechnic Ibadan.
It is quite annoying that First Bank, a bank that has been in operation since 1894 will come out to wash her dirty linen in the public. I wonder what good they think they’re trying to do their already battered image by coming out to say Durojaye Job Adeyemi wanted to play a fast one by withdrawing more than he had on his account.
Now, let’s get a bit rational here. If it were to be any of these other people, the accusers, that saw a balance as huge as that on their accounts, would they not have withdrawn it? It becomes surer that they would do worse than Job is being accused of here because they are well versed and experienced in things like this.
While trying to protect their corporate integrity, I’m so certain that First Bank did not think of the outcry that would follow the ill-advised comment that Job is a fraud. I am not amazed though, the image maker of the Bank and his friends in the Press would have earned quite a few thousands of Naira to tarnish Job’s image, to bring down someone who is a million times more credible than they are.
I am happy quite some internet media have stepped into the issue. Newspapers have been publishing vox-pop to show First Bank the error of their ways, a popular website, www.saharareporters.com has also lent its voice to the debacle.
What I see here is a case of pot calling the kettle black, the asin (a breed of rat that smells) telling the obuko (Yoruba name for the he-goat) he stinks and whatever can also be related. I think, or better still, I know First Bank is trying to cover their own ineptitude by demonizing Job but no matter what they do, this guy that has got praises and knocks in equal proportions from Nigerians (praises from me though), has worked his way into Nigeria’s Hall of Fame while First Bank has willingly walked into the Hall of Shame.
Citizen Job’s Regional Overseer did not leap to his defence; he jumped and even flew to his defence. The comment credited to him in one of the dailies smacked of real anger and disappointment at First Bank’s position. Nearly everyone who commented on the issue rose in staunch support of the guy while knocking and bashing First Bank.
The Regional Overseer even claimed that it was not the first time Job was handling big money. “His department, the Youth department was entrusted with N1.2 million and they bought the church a befitting bus for everyone to see”, the Regional Overseer said.
I spoke to someone who retired from the Banking industry 10 years ago after working there for 19 years and in her exact words, “it is a fraud they should investigate. They were possibly waiting for him to come and complain. It’s something that was perpetrated possibly from the headquarters or the specific branch. First Bank is only trying to cover-up their staffers who were involved at the expense of Job”.
It is a classic case of Nigeria. First Bank is using the press because they have the cash to blow on the useless venture. Job Durojaye has no one. He has God and God alone. They only are trying to blackmail the guy and cover their own people in a bid to paint the innocent man black. It is a shame an institution of First Bank’s standing will do that.
From the least ranked staffer at First Bank to Mr. Bisi Onasanya, the MD, they have dragged themselves in the mud. Did they ever think of the counter-effect of the press war they wanted to start? Now cases will start in the Courts and lawyers will feed fat on the Bank again. This is avoidable waste.
What does it cause First Bank to celebrate Job for who he is? They would have been pardoned and the case would have encouraged some semi- honest people to do what should be done in cases like this. Right in my office, some guys engaged themselves in a shouting match over Job’s honesty. Some called him names and others defended him.
If the money were to be mistakenly wired into the account of a politician or one of our so-called big men, would they have returned the cash? Would they have screamed? Would they have told anyone? First Bank lost the chance to celebrate a true Nigerian icon and idol by resorting to petty lies, playing on the intelligence of millions of Nigerians. Whoever advised them to tell such a lie should forfeit his certificates and go back to Primary school.
I wonder if they discussed with their Legal department before their P.R department went to the press. If their Legal Advisers were privy to that, then they should possibly be de-robed and sent back to farm in their respective villages, Fat don dey enter their brain for inside office, make sun wire dem small.
For citizen Job, if the God of fire will agree, let him institute legal proceedings against First Bank. At least quite a number of us know what he can sue for. If he doesn’t want to do that, let him take it as the “Trials of Modern day Job”. However, methinks the NBA should do something to cut First Bank to size.
If First Bank wants to hear anything from an ‘enemy’, as they would call me, I think they should put their house in order. Their Inspectorate Department can do a very good job by getting to the root of the matter. Or how do we explain a situation in which about 37 percent of a Bank’s capital base is paid into someone’s account? To make matters worse, they now had to resort to babyish excuses of an error that all First Bank ATMs were credited with N9.3 billion at the time Job went to make his withdrawal. It is quite disheartening that an excuse as foolish as that will be given by First Bank, of all banks.
Those found culpable should be made to face the full weight of the law except they are ‘untouchables’ like some of us are in this country. The only pain in my heart is our penchant for making good people look bad while exalting the wicked. It is the same thing that makes our judges give a man who steals a N100 bathroom slippers a 6-month jail term with hard labour while they give a Bank Executive who stole billions of depositors’ funds an 18-month jail term which runs concurrently.
These dumb-heads who advised First Bank to blackmail and demonize Job are wrong and cannot be right again. Citizen Job, you are and remain an exemplary man. Case closed!

OCTOBER 9 REFLECTI

October 9. 13:43 HRS

I am presently at work, resting after a very heavy routine operation called grading (separating the big fowls from the small ones). I am waiting for my closing hour. However, while I wait, I’ve just thought of writing ‘something’ so that the time won’t look as if it isn’t moving at all.

To do this writing thing though, I must get my mind off the yabis and jests going on around me here. I’ll try do that as I let you into what’s on my mind today.

It’s been a torrid few weeks, a very difficult period for the better part of the year and a testing and trying period for the better part of one year. Emotions running high only to get suppressed, showing care, love and attention only to be rejected, getting told point blank in some regards that you are not wanted again, being told “I want out” to your face by the one you love and cherish. Now you know where I’m going.

In situations like that, everyone becomes an adviser. Worse still, those who don’t even have an idea of what love is about also giving you their own ‘piece of advise’. People who take ideas from you start blabbing and telling you what to do. It’s that bad. To make it badder than worse, the folks you tell and think they’ll give you a shoulder go gaga once told. Isn’t that kinda hellish?

I was chanced to spend some time with a friend, or better put a sister and confidant some days ago. While rubbing minds about life, we talked about our relationships and that really set the tone rolling. We discussed a lot about things in that regard. That was when our emotions almost got in the way of reason. She bared her mind and so did I.

That was when I really remembered the emotional challenges I’ve been facing for some time now, the emotional turmoil I’ve been coping with for quite some time.

You know things like not giving shit but having to take shit. Showing love but getting none, giving care but getting thrashed and a lot of the opposites that come with loving someone. My confidant discussed her problem and I also discussed mine. We shared our problems, our burdens, our secret disappointments, our hopes and dreams and thinkings, our calculations and the likes. I talked, she talked, we gisted as the time ticked away and crept into the early hours of the afternoon.

We’ve got similar problems but it’s just that while I have mine with my Eve of about 6 years, she has her with her Adam of a decade. From what we discussed, both would have wanted that perfect relationship, devoid of rancours, pains and shames.

That one in which your partner would appreciate everything you do, everything about you. That perfect relationship in which your partner would take you as you are, boast with your strength, see your weakness as her and work on them with you. Love you and you only. Enjoy the good times, face the challenges head long and similar things.

That will never be so anyway, everyone has a place where their shoe pinches. A proverb in my place translates as ‘all lizards crawl on their belly but we can’t know the one whose belly aches’. The perfect relationship can never ever be found here on earth, I’ve never been to heaven though so I can’t say if we’ll have any there.

So why all these you wanna ask me?it’s to tell you the problems you have in your relationship isn’t peculiar to you alone.E everyone has their own ‘stuff’ to cope with, I mean everyone, even the so-called model relationships. Don’t let that problem destroy you, I’m trying to overcome mine. As my mangled English-speaking brothers would say “no gree am destroy you”.

I should pack my bag and head homewards, it’s been a very hectic day.

PDP SECRETARIAT INFERNO AND IMPLICATIONS

Sometimes later in the week would make it a fortnight that a portion of the National Secretariat of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), Nigeria’s ruling party (and the self-acclaimed largest political party in Africa), went up in flames. It was one of my busy weeks so I could not air my view on the ‘mysterious fire which is under investigation’ (kudos to the Police).

It actually a sight to behold when I saw the stuff on National TV. I just felt blank initially before the funny thoughts started coming over me. They didn’t overcome me though.

Now, if you are religious, you must be having some tingly feelings by now. I actually don’t understand why it should be PDP’s Secretariat that went up in flames and not the National Secretariat of one of those lesser parties that have already been sucked dry by PDP and would have gladly welcomed the inferno as something to hide under for their final collapse.

On second thought however, I remembered the factor of the creator, the one who powers the universe. He has his ways of warning us beforehand of things that may happen if we do or do not take some steps.

I’ve had varying points of view as per that fire incident. I think I should bore you with some of them if you wouldn’t mind.

PDP had that fire incident not because it’s the ruling party in Nigeria or being the most powerful and richest, it could afford rebuilding. It was simply the handwriting on the wall. Need I say that PDP is today the biggest beneficiary of deregulation? That party of course benefited immensely from the deregulation of political parties (from three to almost fifty) in Nigeria as masterminded by Aremu, the Ebora of Owu, while he held sway as Nigeria’s numero uno.

That ‘small’ fire at least gives the umbrella-symbolized party a big chance to upgrade its National Secretariat. At least a Yoruba adage translates as ‘the palace that goes up in flames only ends up regaining its beauty and more’.

PDP have the chance to give their Wadata Plaza Secretariat a face-lift ahead of next year’s general elections. They can show us how they will rebuild a battered and well burnt Nigeria after many years of misrule starting from the very first set of politicians of the pre-independence era, the independence era politicians, the military and they themselves. Let them use Wadata Plaza’s rebuilding as an example of what they can do.

That aside, has anyone thought of the fire as a warning to the Nigerian political class? Those politicians whose talents are not hidden, who put their talent to ominous use in lying and deceiving the ‘gullible, hopeful and trusting’ lot that we citizens of Mama Naija are. That could be it or how does one explain the fire that didn’t gut the Secretariat of one of those regional and hungry political parties but chose to ‘show some skill’ on the biggest of them all?

Some politicians would by now be cursing under their breaths, casting aspersions on me for ranking them regional and hungry, or ever having the audacity to group them with the ‘evil PDP’, a party of thugs and assassins. Help me ask them if they are not all the same or won’t even be worse. Ask them if they’re not being level-headed now because they are not in power. Ask them if they’ll do any better than their fellow ‘bad news’ that is in power.

That fire is a warning; a warning to both the ruling and political class that “Lo and Behold, I am coming and my reward cometh with me, to give unto every man (party and its members) according to his deeds”. Politicians or whatever name you deaf sons of perdition call yourselves, you know where you stand if the fire burns today. From the innermost part of you, you can say how the fire will decorate you, whether it will reward you well or not.

Years back Daddy Showkey; the popular Ghetto Soldier did a song about fire burning all the bad people. As a ruler, where do you stand? Ask yourself honestly; make a very honest assessment of yourself.

That fire might have been telling PDP that their end was near. It could’ve been saying to PDP to take heed and not miss it in 2011. The fire may have come from hell, warning them to sit up or find their Secretariat burnt, their big umbrella (which can contain everyone) and leave their members charred beyond recognition.

I want to see ten members of the ruling party and ten other members of the opposition who would swear by the most effective means, that they’re in it for real, that they’re in it to better the lot of the people.

I stand to be corrected but I don’t see any other party standing up to PDP in the Presidential elections. It is a known fact that some South west parties only endorse other parties’ candidates and some others in the East recycle the same set of old men who have contributed to where we are today flaunting their credentials. Some others that would have tried to give the ruling party a run for their money have been infiltrated by who else but PDP.

Enough of the digression, the fire is a warning to PDP to buckle up and find a solution to the myriad of problems they’ve created since 1999; the ones their elder brother, NPN, created way back in the second republic or risk getting judged by fire.

That fire is a warning to all: If a portion of the Secretariat of the ruling party could surrender to fire, the entire Secretariat, the party, members, all other political parties and their members and indeed our democracy might be at the mercy of the fire come 2011, if we do not do what must be done.

You’re asking me what must be done? You and I know. Let’s do it!

LIES, LIARS AND 'TURNING THE BIBLE'

LIES, LIARS AND BIBLE TURNING

Whatever it is that is interesting this guy that’s trying to snoop on what I’m writing. The exact thing going on now is the music playing in my ears – the cacophony of voices in my office. Three unwanted guests who have come from the other office of my unit in my present place of work, who have come to do nothing but dissect everyone in their office. Be sure they’ll talk about me and the other folks who work together in my office here when they get to their office.

While on my way to work some days ago, I remembered the old way of detecting lies and liars while we grew up on the dusty streets of an area in Ibadan. I was actually in thoughts as regards some issues and I was trying to get a way to detect if the person was lying.

The first thing that came to mind was the Confessor powers as depicted in the ‘Legend of the Seeker’ series. Since I had none of that, I tried to task my brain into finding a way round the ‘lie and truth’ thing.

Whatever it was back in those days, we always wanted to gist one another about what happened in our respective schools. Some of us were very lucky to go to the ajebo schools where everyone posed in their cars when coming to school while our other folks were lucky to trek their way to their agboole(local) primary schools. We were actually lucky to be in a blend, semi-ajebo and semi-ajepako which I’ll coin as ajeboko. The word ajebo came from ajebutter (someone who’s not strong because he grew up eating butter) while an ajepako was someone who grew up eating the strong, starchy and heavy foods like eba, fufu and the likes.

In the process of gisting one another about our different world schools, one or two lies escaped our mouths to make the gists sound a bit more pleasing to the ears. Who would’ve thought an innocent lad or lass would lie but we all had no one to teach us the art and act. Lying is in-born for all humans you know.

God help you if your regular antagonists were present while you exaggerated. They’ll kick against you and their leader would look for ways to discredit whatever you were saying. They’ll ask you series of questions all in a bid to drag you down.

You could be the big time exaggerator and have ready-made answers but still not convince them because they never want the other folks to believe you. They just want to prove that you’re not saying the truth.

The ‘rebel leader’ then sets his machinery in motion to discredit whatever it was that you said happened in your school that day. He talks some of his ‘followers’ into supporting his point of view, and they deliberate on the best way to bring you down. Your friends fight back because they like your way of gisting and don’t like the ‘rebel leader’ because he never sees anything good in what anybody except him says. Voices are raised on both sides with abuses, yabis and the likes of it flying around. If the situation is not well managed, a free-for-all may ensue.

In the interest of peace, someone comes on the scene and initiates a process of reconciliation via dialogue. Both sides then reach a compromise by agreeing to ‘turn the Bible’ to detect the liar.

Back then, we saw that Bible turning procedure as very efficacious, proven, tested and trusted. I personally had my misgivings and reservations though. I was labeled ‘too soft and understanding’ but it didn’t change my stand anyway, because I believed in the margin of error and the human failing. I also knew people had a way of manipulating the Bible to turn against people.

Once it was agreed upon as the authentic lie detecting technique, everyone rushed to get the ‘ingredients’ for the Bible turning which included a key, a red rope (possibly to make it scary) and of course, the Bible which is the primary ingredient. The camp of the ‘enemy’ would be the major supplier of the ingredients. Some would go as far as ‘breaking into’ their father’s room to carry his Big Bible (because the old man was yet to come back from work). Others would go and steal the red rope/twine from their mother’s store and the rest would donate the key, which was removed from the big bunch that carries all of their family’s keys.

I must note that only the Bible gets home safe and sound in most cases. The key and twine gets lost and at the end of that day, the suppliers are in trouble in their houses.

The process of lie detection then starts with hearts in mouths. Someone who is perceived neutral is consulted to carry out the ‘ritual’. The twine is tied round the Bible which is then suspended by holding the key.

“What did he say?” asks the ‘ritual conductor’ in a harsh tone, conveying a mock seriousness, to which several voices are raised trying to say what the ‘liar’ has told them all. “He said his best friend in school is the son of the Governor’s brother”, the enemies eventually chorus with a wicked grin on their faces.

The ‘ritualist’ then suspends the Bible and says “If the son of the Governor’s brother is this boy’s best friend in school, let the Bible not turn but if it is otherwise, let this Bible turn”. Everyone then waits with baited breath to see what will happen.

Either the Bible turns or not, there is bound to be shouts and a bit of scuffle after the process has been completed for the vindicated side angrily raises their finger at the accusing side.

It gets so terrible if ‘Bible turning’ has to be applied when something is missing. Suspects and scapegoats are picked randomly. If you are unlucky and those who don’t like your face are among those picking the suspects, you’ll definitely be among them. The Bible is turned against the ‘thieves’ and the person who is loathed the most emerges ‘the thief’.

Most folks were so optimistic that the Bible turning produced the thief in those days. I always believed the guy who is accused of being the thief is someone nearly all the ‘power brokers’ don’t like. I almost got convinced once however.

While playing set, a guy shouted that his eyin alangba (a sweet which we called lizard’s egg) was missing. The ‘accused’ looked like a good guy who would do nothing of such and vehemently denied the allegation. The Bible was turned against him and he was found to be the culprit. Slaps and blows came from different angles but the guy refused to admit stealing, he claimed to have also purchased his own eyin alangba. The ‘enemies’ asked him which colour it was and that was where he got into trouble. He claimed to have bought a green coloured one but when he was searched, two different colours were found on him – the green which he supposedly bought and of course, a pink one. That brought about another round of slaps, blows and kicks and the thief was taken to the elders for judgment. My friends took a swipe at the ‘unbelieving lot’, of which I was one, casting aspersions on us for being too trusting.

I was a bit convinced until another incident happened and the Bible turning ritual chose an innocent man. It eventually turned out some days later that the culprit was the particular guy that turned the Bible. I there and then lost the little belief I had in the Bible turning ritual.

‘Bible turning’ broke many hearts back then and effectively cut some future bullies to size once and for all. I remember one Wale guy who was so obsessed with ‘Bible turning’ that he always came to our ‘Emirates Stadium’, where we played our 4-a side football matches (we called it ‘set’) with all ‘Bible turning’ apparatus to detect if a goal was valid or not and whether it was ‘high ball’ or ‘foul’ or not.

He once fell foul of his ‘Bible turning’ and to make matters worse, it was the ‘air’ that turned the Bible that day. Most of us knew he was not wrong but because he was always the antagonist, everyone was happy that the Bible ‘turned against him’ for once. God, I laughed my head off that sunny afternoon.

The funniest part was that while we turned the Bible all day, we neglected our assignments and got whooped in school the next day. But will children ever learn? We’ll come back and repeat the procedure the next afternoon.