Suleiman's Blog

A boy without shoes to man without pity

2012-01-09T06:48:00.001-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

Last year, in the run up to the presidential elections, a few Nigerians saw through the ruse of the world’s most corrupt political party and warned that the PDP simply wanted to impose a weakling on Nigeria and milk the country dry in the process. We tried to tell Nigerians that we had nothing against Jonathan as a person, only that his antecedents as Bayelsa state governor do not qualify him to manage the affairs of a country as large and complex and a people as difficult as Nigerians.

Very few heeded those warnings. We were labelled northern apologists, unwilling and unable to accept a southern Christian president running Nigeria. Of course the claims were preposterous because just a few months earlier, many of us had marched in the scorching sun of Lagos and Abuja in support of Jonathan against a Muslim northern president who was violating our Constitution. But the voices of reason were drowned; the PDP machinery, with access to unlimited government funds bribed, blackmailed and bludgeoned its way into power.

To make matters worse, no other Christian and southern candidates presented themselves for consideration, so every opposition to candidate Jonathan was conveniently passed off as anti-south and anti-Christian. Many of those opposed to Jonathan had far greater prospects of benefiting from a Jonathan administration than from a northern president, but knew that the man simply didn’t have the mettle to tackle Nigeria’s myriad challenges. It was tragic, watching intelligent Nigerians falling for the hoax of the son of the fisherman who had ‘no shoes’, seduced by the promise of ‘fresh air’ and the ‘transformation’ of politics and administration in Nigeria.

And so Goodluck Ebele Jonathan came to office with a landslide.

How many people asked what Jonathan’s economic policies were? How many Nigerians could point to anything the man had done as governor of Nigeria’s least populated state but with one of the highest revenues? Did Jonathan make any promises to tackle corruption? Did the president make any commitment to cut down on the costs of government? Did we ask questions when thousands of groups emerged overnight, all very well funded, to promote the Jonathan agenda? Did we even ask what the agenda was? Where are those groups today? Did Nigerians not vote for ‘Jonathan’ and not the PDP?

So what are Nigerians protesting about? Why are Nigerians marching against the removal of fuel subsidies and the resulting dramatic increases in the prices of transport, food stuff, petrol, firewood, kerosene, rent, school fees, and other things? Why didn’t we ask important questions when we had a chance to? Many people thought it was humorous when Jonathan avoided the presidential debate organized for candidates and chose to debate himself. Are we only just seeing through the veneer of deception? Who is having the last laugh now?

The situation we find ourselves should not be surprising. If anything, GEJ has always demonstrated an uncanny similarity with President Ibrahim Babangida to get into and remain in office. IBB ‘settled’ his cronies with fief-like political appointments to go and ‘chop’; GEJ gave them what to ‘chop’ directly by doling out cash, including dollars from our excess crude oil account and foreign reserves. In the first four years of the Yar’adua/ Jonathan administration, our foreign reserves were depleted from $47 billion to about $33 billion; excess crude account from $6 billion to almost zero and our foreign debts shot up from about $3 billion to $40 billion. Did Nigerians expect not to pay a price for this profligacy?

The reason behind Jonathan’s removal of petroleum products is not because government wants to commit the funds to other more pressing areas as claimed. If that was the case, why should the Presidency propose to spend N300 million in 2012 just to buy dinner sets for the villa? Why is the president ordering a new jet to add to its already bloated fleet when most Nigerians cannot travel without a ‘security report’ from all routes and towns along the way? Why should government spend almost three-quarters of the 2012 budget on salaries and allowances of a mere 1% of the population when 20 million Nigerian youth are unemployed? Why should a former teacher refuse to honour its agreements with ASUU? Did we not fall for ‘fresh air’ without asking whose fans will blow the air?

And what is it about the psychology of Nigerian leaders so that craves praises from the West?

It is a fact that when the World Bank and the IMF praises the government of any developing country, the ordinary people of that country are in for a hard time. IBB was the first to deregulate critical sectors of the economy to acclaim from the West. We are yet to recover. OBJ ceded Bakassi to Western eulogies, demoting our brothers into second class citizens in their ancestral lands. GEJ has removed subsidies to cover up huge gaps in our finances and at the behest of the West. Overnight, a majority of already impoverished Nigerians have been pushed into deeper poverty.

It seems that the boy who grew up with no shoes has grown up to be a man with no pity.

Second Term for President Jonathan...

2012-01-05T13:35:00.001-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

Now that we are beginning the year with massive increases in the prices of petrol, transport, foodstuffs, school fees, rents and everything else, it is imperative to creatively earn additional income. In the last two years, the most lucrative occupation in Nigeria was supporting President Jonathan at all costs and by all means. Thousands of groups emerged overnight to plead, beg, cajole and threaten mass suicide if Jonathan didn’t run for president. In the end, he ‘reluctantly’ allowed himself to be persuaded.

Today, all members of those groups and anyone who actively supported Jonathan are billionaires and millionaires. True, a few of them have sold the SUVs they bought and have been thrown out of the hotels they were living, but most of them will not feel the rising cost of living nor participate in the meaningless protests over fuel subsidy removal. The rest of us must find ways to survive Mr. President’s New Year gift. Ironically, the most lucrative way is to support him early and vigorously - for a second term in office. It is not too early. Remember, the early bird catches the worms. In our own case, the early supporters will catch the dollars....

But more seriously, in a proper democracy, Goodluck Jonathan would not have been governor, much less president. Everyone knows last year’s elections were massively rigged and outrageous amounts spent to buy or coerce support for him. And because religion and region were used to blindfold many Nigerians, the PDP had its way. The rest should be history, except that today, we have to live with the consequences of that decision: devolution of corruption, delegation of poverty and democratization of insecurity.

And just when you think that the quality of leadership in Nigeria cannot possibly sink any lower than it has with Goodluck Jonathan, take one look at those warming up to succeed him and it becomes immediately obvious that the president – dull, uninspiring and visionless as he, is not necessarily the worse specimen the world’s most corrupt political party – PDP - can throw up. A look at the two potential successors within the party – Vice President Namadi Sambo and Senate President David Mark sends shivers down the spines of those who know the two men – and their largely nondescript, even poor records in public service.

As a major government contractor, Namadi Sambo has always been part of government. There are claims that his firm hardly completed projects, even at grossly inflated sums. Incidentally, contract for a major water supply scheme to his hometown was awarded to his company. He didn’t complete it as a contractor and couldn’t be bothered as governor; most parts of Zaria still do not have water. As governor of Kaduna state in an election he clearly didn’t win, Namadi Sambo only succeeded in taking huge loans that simply disappeared. Beyond that, he had nothing to show. How two non performing governors ended up as president and vice president is a serious indictment of our political system.

As for Senate President David Mark, this man represents all that is wrong with leadership in Nigeria. From the post war panel to resolve ‘abandoned’ properties of the Igbo after the civil war, this man has been part of government for ever. He was a regular at Dodan Barracks in the 1970s and later emerged as military governor of Niger State when the military disrupted our democracy. Not many people in the state remember any solid legacy he left behind before his reassignment as minister of communications where his most important achievement was his statement that ‘telephones are not for the poor’.

David Mark is currently serving his fourth term in the senate, but most people in his constituency would swear that he didn’t win any of those elections. But because he understands the corrupt Nigerian system so well, he thrives in the chaos and injustice. With his tremendous wealth, the only thing has achieved for his people is a golf course in the outskirts of Otupko (where no one plays golf and whose residents would rather have the water from the golf course in their homes). The roads are bad, but he visits by helicopter. He couldn’t even influence the placing of a federal university in his constituency last year when government was ‘sharing’ universities for political ends. Mark supported Obasanjo’s third term ambition – and the sharing of the booties – to the bitter end.

So back to Goodluck: With his laid-back mien and outward unwillingness (though his calculating and cruel character is creeping out) it is easy to underestimate President Jonathan. But the man is a much more consummate power player than we give him credit for. The greatest myth around Jonathan is the notion that he has always been a reluctant politician and that by some divine miracle, power has always come to him. To have successfully sold that dummy is one of the smartest acts of political subtlety in Nigeria.

We may all want Jonathan out of office before he completely destroys Nigeria, but if he decides to run, what can stop him?

The fact is, by 2015, Nigerians may be in for another rude shock. At the appropriate time, and with the fitting level of reluctance, Jonathan will ‘unwillingly’ allow himself to be persuaded to run for a second term. He won’t be running because he wants to remain in office. He will run only after ‘deeply reflecting on the calls from the Nigerian patriots home and abroad, traditional rulers, state governors and out of respect for the wishes of the Nigerian people’. It will be his ‘patriotic duty to run for president in Nigeria to consolidate the achievements of the last few years’.

So to survive 2012 and beyond, block your nostrils to hold off the stench; suffocate your conscience; lay to rest your pride; close your eyes to his ineptitude and support Goodluck Ebele Jonathan for a second term in office and watch your bank accounts grow. What do you think the $8 billion saved from subsidy removal will be used for?

Boko Haram: The Three Phases of Terror

2012-01-03T03:39:00.001-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

The amount of money an emir expends on a single trip to Europe for medical check-up would build a clinic big enough to serve a community of 5000 people; the amount of foreign exchange a top civil servant pays yearly to educate a single child abroad would build a primary school capable of providing basic education to hundreds of pupils; the amount of money a politician spends to sponsor his wives and children’s trips to Saudi Arabia for lesser pilgrimage, to Dubai for shopping and Europe for holidays annually is enough to establish community banks and provide access to capital for thousands of small businesses or fund poverty alleviation projects in several communities.

What do the emir, top civil servant and politician have in common? They are all western-educated, blinded by a culture of corruption and nurtured on the plundered public resources. So to the ordinary citizen whose pregnant wife dies in labour for lack of basic healthcare; whose child cannot get basic literacy and numeracy skills due to the collapse of education and whose entire life is a painful journey through biting poverty and hopelessness, if western education produces a system as insensitive, an elite as heartless and a society as unjust, then that form of enlightenment (boko) should be anathema (haram). This is the figurative definition of Boko Haram.

This article is not an attempt to justify the killing of innocent Nigerians, Muslim or Christian. Those acts cannot be rationalized and are totally condemnable. But to understand a problem requires that we get to the bottom of the real issues. Boko Haram started because many young people, unable to live with the growing level of poverty and social injustice, opted to move out of the periphery of society to live in isolation, embracing an interpretation of Islam as their ideology. The group did not have a violent outlook and only sought to live in their own alternative reality, however Utopian.

However, when the police attacked and killed several of their members during a funeral procession without provocation or an apology, the arena was set for a fierce backlash. Even at that stage, it was not too late to make amends, but the same ‘Bokoed’ elite that forced them to the margins of society now sought to criminalise them. When the group made the mistake of taking arms against the instruments of state, government found the excuse it needed and ordered that the group be crushed. The military went in with force and shelled populated areas indiscriminately. Some observers estimated that as many as 7000 people, mostly innocent women and children were slaughtered; nobody bothered to count. For several months, the stench of dead and decaying bodies pervaded Maiduguri and its environs.

Even at that stage it would have been possible to manage the situation, but government chose not to and proclaimed victory, forgetting that an ideology was not a military target. Soon, pictures and video of the cold blooded murder of the group’s leader and top echelon, as well as the brutal killing of young children and many handicapped people by the police began to surface. Very little has been done to bring the police officers - many of whom can clearly be identified in the videos – to justice. Obviously, the state was above its own laws.

Several unanswered questions remain regarding government response to terrorism. Why did late President Umaru Yar’adua not visit Maiduguri where thousands of lives were lost, mostly in hands of the military? Why has President Goodluck Jonathan not visited Bauchi Gombe and Yobe where thousands of lives have been lost in communal and religious unrests? Why did her turn down the mediation offer by Borno elders? Are the people being killed in Plateau state second class citizens? Why are we turning a blind eye to what can only be described as genocide in Southern Kaduna? Why was there so little media coverage of the Sallah day attacks that killed hundreds of Muslim worshipers in Jos? What is the response to the recent massacre in Ebonyi state that left at least 60 people dead?

Clearly, government has no answers.

In typical Jonathanian fashion, the response has been to throw money at problems. The average spending on security last year was 2 billion naira every day of the entire year. What Nigerians got in return was the bloodiest peace-time year in history. Undaunted, the president plans to spend a quarter of this year’s budget on security. The combined security and defence spending in this year’s budget proposals would average about 3 billion naira ($20 million) daily. This is the highest ever peace time spending on security, but the measures being taken are tragically comical, revealing fundamental flaws in Nigeria’s security and defence thinking.

Many major streets in Abuja have been barricaded and the flow of traffic diverted from potential targets. All roads leading to the city have checkpoints that only create traffic chaos and misery. And for those who didn’t know, the offices of the Department of State Services (SSS) are now more visible than before; security posts are being constructed at the previously obscure entrance of the Nigeria Intelligence Agency (NIA); all roads bordering the Defence and Police Headquarters are now blocked. It would be catastrophic for Nigeria to fight a war with another country because all it would take to decimate our top military cadre is an attack on the Defence Headquarters where the Army, Air Force and Navy have their offices – in a single compound!

Government has also awarded a $600 million contract to install close circuit cameras in parts of Abuja. Don’t ask if they work and if we have the data base from which to identify persons of interest. At the current rate, all roads leading to churches will soon be blocked; all routes leading to mosques will be barricaded; all schools will soon be guarded by bomb squads; battle tanks will be stationed at the gates of hospitals, and all markets will be guarded by elite troops and military helicopters....

While these laughable ‘security’ measures are being put in place, the real challenge – Boko Haram has metamorphosed through the three phases of terrorism.

Initially, the group was guided by their peculiar interpretation of an ideology. The second phase came when they decided to carry out revenge attacks on perceived enemies – mostly policemen and the ‘Bokoed’ elite. And because government failed to act responsively, they quickly moved to the third phase which is marked by indiscriminate killing and bombing. This phase is not about protecting an ideology or even in retribution for perceived injustices. They now kill simply because they can. And no one is safe - Muslim or Christian, northerner or southerner: Nigeria is under siege.

Spend a trillion dollars to fight terrorism and what will you get? More terrorists! That is what the American experience in Afghanistan shows. Even President Jonathan, callous and obtuse as he is (whatever happened to the fresh air) must realise that military action will not solve what is essentially a problem born of social injustice and hopelessness.

According to Bolaji Abdullahi, the Minister of Youth, 20 million Nigerian youth (41.6%) are unemployed. This should be the focus of all security strategies in the country, not the massive procurement of arms. How many citizens can government kill? The three billion naira the federal government alone plans to spend daily on security would be better spent on building safety nets below which no Nigerian should fall. All 36 states’ security votes, running to hundreds of billions would better serve to create jobs or introduce unemployment benefits to millions, not stolen by governors.

Boko Haram or not, as long as the level of poverty, unemployment and social inequality continues to rise, no amount of money voted for security or quantity of arms bought will make Nigeria secure. And the president’s unilateral decision to withdraw subsidy on petroleum products will certainly not help matters. Ironically, Jonathan seems to have gone through his own three phases: Jonathan the Clueless, Jonathan the Congenial and Jonathan the Cruel.

LOCAL GOVERNMENT, LOCAL PROBLEM

2011-12-23T03:51:00.000-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

Local Government Chairmen in Nigeria live in a world of their own, completely detached from reality. Most of them have full retinues of bodyguards and are driven around in convoys of SUVs, with police orderlies to open and close doors for them. Getting appointments to meet them is virtually an exercise in futility. They dispense favours to acolytes and praise-singers with the thoughtless abandon: the entire local government funds are theirs to spend as they wish.

At the Local Government Secretariat, they are surrounded by meaningless protocols; their paraphernalia of office would embarrass the head of state of a small country. They can in turn be brash, arrogant, suave, solicitous and crude, but one thing they share is a well-horned capacity to detect the slightest opportunity for fraud. Their word is law and they believe they know everything.

Except what the job description of a local government chairman is.

At a lower level, local government officials also live like royalty. As administrators, they help themselves liberally from the public purse by exploiting the weaknesses of the archaic accounting systems still in use. They are just as powerful as chairmen because they are the institutional memories of councils and know where every kobo is, and therefore how to steal it. Local administration in Nigeria today embodies theft, serving only serve to devolve poverty.

How did we get to this point?

Prior to military intervention in politics, the Native Authority structures comprised two-tier multipurpose units of governance, made up of the parent local government council at the upper level, and the subordinate council at the lower level. The military introduced the area development committees at the District or Zonal levels of local government administration. They abolished the District Officer, Local Authority and City Manager systems that were in place prior to 1975.

When the Murtala Administration initiated the process of local government reform through Decree No 32 of 1975 (10), the policy aimed to fast track development in the rural areas. The intention was to enhance development at the local level and give people a voice in the democratic process. It certainly did not envisage that council chairmen would become the local tyrants we see today, strutting about with no ideas of what their functions are. They are experts in awarding grossly inflated contracts and diverting public funds, or as Nuhu Ribadu would say, ‘direct stealing’.

Nigeria’s Constitution recognizes local government areas as the third tier of government after the federal and state governments. Their functions are clearly defined. They are entitled allocation of funds from the federation account for use in carrying out their functions. All of Nigeria’s 776 local councils each receive billions of naira in allocations, but nobody knows where these monies end up. Where are the local roads, dispensaries, schools and markets? Where are the projects to speed up development? Where are the trillions? No wonder it is now vogue for chairmen to own houses in London, Dubai and South Africa. And because there are little checks, accountability is weak and audit systems compromised. The public is generally disinterested.

And so, the looting goes on.

That is why today, there are places in Nigeria that cannot be reached by any form of motorized vehicle; reaching those places entails abandoning vehicles and trudging on foot. That is why in some areas today, medical emergencies are transported to clinics on motorcycles or donkeys. That is why in many places pupils still study under trees in lieu of classrooms. That is why we must ask: Where are the boreholes that are supposed to provide potable water? Why do so many people die from preventable diseases like malaria, typhoid, cholera, dysentery, and meningitis? Why do we have mountains of refuse and clogged drainages all over the country?

If you seek answers to these puzzles, look no further than your local government officials.

After paying staff salaries every month, the party begins. Bogus contracts are awarded and re-awarded at grossly inflated rates but never executed. Salaries are paid to hundreds and thousands of non-existing workers. Unnecessary workshops and conferences (including to the UK to learn local government administration!) are paid for. Unneeded consultancy and feasibility studies are commissioned, paid for and promptly dumped. Boreholes with no water are displayed as achievements. Classrooms that will be blown away by the next rains are inaugurated. Cheap motorcycles are distributed to youth in the name of poverty alleviation. And by the time the orgy of spending is over, allocations for another month would have arrived. So the madness continues.

Is it any surprise that local government areas, for all intents and purposes have become local problems?

As ASUU Strikes Again

2011-12-05T23:43:00.000-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman
   I write to inform you that the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU), the umbrella body of Nigerian university teachers has embarked on yet another series of strikes. As you read this, all 177 public universities have been shut down, with no date set for their reopening. But this letter is not about ASUU strikes – that happens every year. I write to inform you about what school and learning are like even when ASUU isn’t on strike.
   Today, nothing is as you recall. School may have given you some of the happiest years in life, enlightenment, education and a future. What I see today are bleak, blank faces, gazing at bleak, bland futures. I do not see the cheery days and starry nights you recall so fondly. The tower you remember has crashed down to the dungeons of decrepit desolation and disrepair; from an incubator of fresh thinking, it is now a prison of dead thoughts. What I perceive from the prism of this prison is a picture not of enlightenment at its highest peak, but ignorance at its darkest pitch.
   What I see is truth tethered on the tentacle of lies and facts fanned by farce. What I see is a dearth of research, paucity of original thinking and plentiful of intellectual inertia. I see teachers who grimace at the embrace of technology then retreat to their comfort zones of submerged subterfuge, prostituting posterity for pittance. They teach in public schools, but all have children in private schools.
   You say you made your best friends in school, but through the miasma that shrouds the clouds of today’s comradeship, what I see are the bonfires of the occult as they sweat, shiver and shout; they see everything and nothing; they strangle, shoot and stab; they climb a mound of skulls for a moment of transient clout that is premised on pretexts, lies, fears and tears. I see no lasting friendships in that fraternity.
   I interact with students who know everything about soccer, nothing about Socrates; all about Arsenal, nothing about Aristotle; all about Maradona, nothing about Michelangelo; all about Pele, nothing about Plato. I see the mast of memories misted by the fog of foiled, failed folios. Next time you tell me I can’t speak, read or write English, I will tell you that I speak better English than my teachers. Next time you say youths today are without creativity or intellect, I will tell you that I am taught by professors who have published nothing in a dozen years.
   Through the prism of so many prisons, I see once cherished values dragged into the gutter of moral penury; I see students storming through a million pages without comprehension for a piece of parchment; I see culture confined to the cellars of a confused continuum called civilized conduct; I see scions reject time honored symphonies to go searching, picking and parodying primordial patterns from which they obtain no education, no enlightenment and nothing of the nuances needed to knead a livelihood.
   In school today, the search for truth means nothing; students lie and cheat with sacred texts that meant something to get scores that leave them sharing no shade and no shelter from once shielded sanctuaries, now synods of sybaritic sacrilege. Today, merit is wasting and cheating is paying; dirges announce the birth of new ideas and pyres precede professors powerless to pirate patents. And because government is on a stretched, secluded sabbatical, it has lost touch with my teachers. So they teach for three months and strike for six.
   In the hostels you recall like yesterday, I am awakened by the bedlam of students scurrying to fetch water to wash their faces and cook their meals; I see 16 students crammed into the single room you once lived alone. On the shelves where you kept your books are kerosene stoves; in the wardrobes where you once hung your shirts are sacks of food; in the hands of graduate students, I see lecture notes stenciled from back in the 1980s; the libraries are homes to books of antiquity and today’s seminars, a bizarre bazaar of intellectual ineptitude.
   In class, we are plied with new lies to quell old fears. What I see is the deliberate death dance of a fast fading educational system. I see ivory towers anchored on the rusty chains of complacency and I fear the emptiness of an education that is stilted, shapeless, shrouded in mystery, mindless, meaningless.
   What I am trying to say is that even when ASUU isn’t on strike, I go out to class every day with a numb mechanical monotony, seeing nothing, learning nothing.

My God is Richer than Yours

2011-10-21T04:37:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

As Nigerians join the rest of the world in congregating for Hajj, our ironic preoccupation with religion comes out once again. A few years ago, a survey showed Nigeria to be the most religious country in the world, with 90 percent of the population believing in God, praying regularly and affirming their readiness to die for their beliefs. The survey, "What the World Thinks of God" also showed Nigeria coming tops as a praying nation at 95 percent, compared to 67 percent in the US.

Our brand of Christianity has assumed a uniquely Nigerian character: loud, colorful, vigorous and patently overdone. At a time when many are fleeing churches in droves and church attendance are at record lows, the business of worshiping Christ is a trillion naira concern in Nigeria – and growing. Apart from controlling public vaults, the easiest way to own a private jet in Nigeria is probably to talk-smooth on a church podium.

And Muslims will not be outshone. Our brand of Islam is just as peculiarly Nigerian: pretentious, ignorant, obtuse and grotesquely expensive. A quick way to power and influence in Nigeria is to affect a religious mien, grow a huge beard, don a turban and deliberately pepper conversations with Arabic words and phrases. Political and business leaders of all shades and persuasions – Muslim and Christian - would flock to pay homage and seek patronage.

But none of these is new. A growing trend is the calculatedly obscene manner some eople spend money to demonstrate religiosity. At no place is this more evident than during lesser Hajj or Umrah, when people seem to be paying for exclusive access to God. To start with, this ritual is not an obligation, yet some people beg and borrow just to keep up with peers who travel every year. In the midst of such desperate exhibitionism, genuine devotion is a derivative.

The less affluent task themselves needlessly to perform Umrah, while the rich definitely go for the overkill. During the last Umrah, $100,000 was paid at a luxury hotel for a state governor for 10 nights; he stayed only two. This was a needless waste of $80,000. Worse was the case of a well-known politician who had wired $250,000 as payment for a 10 night stay, but didn’t show up. At current exchange rates, that is 40 million naira. My grouse is not that he didn’t show up; even if he had exhausted every cent of the amount, such pricey prayers probably pry out true faith.

The math is simple. Which would be a worthier act, spending N40 million for a few days of luxurious devotion, or using the same amount to change the lives of at least 100 Nigerian families forever? For a university graduate who doesn’t mind driving a cab, N400, 000 would buy a taxi. The same amount can kick-start many small businesses as take-off capital. For a farmer in my hometown, that amount would buy land, farming implements, a bull and an irrigation pump – and a passport to wealth. For a desperate young man in a village who wants to get married, that amount would build him a house – and pay all marriage expenses.

Even these are very generous estimates. The entire contents of some kola nut hawkers’ tray – from which they feed their families is often less than N3000; the entire assets of some sellers of ‘pure water’, chewing gum, handkerchief, orange, biscuit – and a variety of other things – are often between 1,000 - 2,000 naira. If our pious politician had chosen to spend his N40 million by changing the lives of 1,000 countrymen by giving just N40, 000 to each, how many potential armed robbers, kidnappers and prostitutes would have been recovered for society?

But for the Nigerian rich, the worship of God has a class component – with a seeming competition to spend outrageously, ostensibly to please God. The unspoken assertion seem to be ‘my prayers are more exclusive than yours’, while the more brazen proclaim: ‘I could see the Holy Mosque from my hotel room’; ‘I haven’t missed one pilgrimage in the last 20 years’; ‘I brought my entire family with me’; ‘I stayed at the Intercontinental because Hilton’s standards are falling’ or ‘I stayed at Raffles. Try it next year’. In the midst of such chest thumping exertions to outspend others in the service of God, it is easy to forget that we left many homeless and hungry compatriots back home.

If the keys to Heaven could be bought with money, Nigerians would probably outbid every other people in the world, with change to spare. The contradiction in using stolen funds to build mosques and churches is often lost; in the same breath, monies are stolen from the treasury and transferred to numbered accounts - and the change used to sponsor friends and family to Mecca and Jerusalem. Ours is a bizarre bazaar where everything goes. In the midst of such frenetic exhibitionism, true religion is a rarity.

President Jonathan as a Feudal Pawn

2011-08-31T07:01:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

Are there any connections with the fact that the more feudal a system, the poorer and less educated the majority of people within those systems usually are? Consider this – two of the most feudal institutions in Nigeria – the Sokoto Sultanate and the Borno Emirate have significantly lower western literacy levels than is common. But these examples apart, President Goodluck Jonathan, in his attempt to win the April 2011 elections has inadvertently waddled into a decades old social and political struggle for the soul of the North.

Before the British conquest in the early 20th century, the major Emirates in the north had developed highly efficient social and political systems. Numerous European explorers who visited those places commented on orderliness of the societies they saw. Literacy was widespread. The justice system, based on the Sharia, worked and there was seeming harmony in the social and mostly class based system. And then it all fell apart.

The British took over political control of the region, but largely left the day to day administration to emirs – there weren’t as many unemployed Brits then as there are today. In northern Nigeria as in other places in Africa, when the colonial masters introduced western education, the emirs and chiefs sent only the children of commoners. It wasn’t long before they realized that the western educated ‘commoners’ were soon giving them orders – as colonial clerks and messengers. So they also began to send their children out for western education as well - and without a stated policy, started to deny ‘commoners’ access to western education.

It was the beginning of a largely undeclared class struggle in the north that a hundred years later, still persists. Most good schools in the region that survive to this day were built on the foundations of the colonial heritage and its immediate aftermath, courtesy of Sir Ahmadu Bello who devoted 47% of the region’s entire budget to education. But the products of these schools threw their weights behind the feudal system – as born members or wannabes of a structure that sought to restrict opportunities - in government and business to a privileged few. The thought of expanding the playing ground to accommodate more people was simply beyond them.

And when a few ambitious ones from the north, against all odds, went ahead to excel in various fields, the feudal system felt threatened and, again, through an unspoken policy began to systematically underfund education for the majority, emasculate the few functional institutions, while at the same time, they began to send their own wards to the best schools in the world. This explains why the north has the lowest literacy levels in Nigeria, but at the same time, some of the best educated people in the world. It was reported that two princes of Sokoto – Alhaji Abubakar Alhaji and Shehu Malami regularly holidayed in Buckingham Palace as students in the United Kingdom in the 1960s.

The struggle has been relentless. From the 1950s up to his death in 1983, Mallam Aminu Kano led the fight against the feudal establishment. The two states his Peoples Redemption Party (PRP) controlled in the Second Republic introduced policies that tried to level the playing field. Late Kano State governor, Abubakar Rimi clashed constantly with the Kano emirate council, and Balarabe Musa knew no peace in Kaduna. In the end, Musa was impeached in Kaduna while Rimi lost re-election in Kano: indeed, not many people know that the aristocrat Shehu Shagari was the feudalists’ choice against ‘commoner’ Maitama Sule in the NPN primaries in 1979.

After the coup of 1983, former Head of State Muhammadu Buhari took a stand against the feudal system – and actually suspended the powerful Emir of Kano. The elite connived to ensure his removal and replacement with Ibrahim Babangida who did their bidding and has remained at their beck and call ever since. This underscores why traditional institutions and the so-called power brokers in the north have consistently opposed Buhari’s presidential ambition; they know he will serve the common man. And this is the reason why the poor, uneducated masses in the region see Buhari as the only beacon of hope in a system that is corrupt, uncaring and largely self-serving.

But the struggle is getting to a head. Even from within the elite, a few people are hitting out again, whatever their motivations may be. Governor Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso – again of Kano - this last Sallah banned the traditional Durbar where all District Heads and Royalty traditionally pledged allegiance to the Emir. It is a small part of an ongoing struggle and is just one manifest example of a largely latent and undeclared conflict between the traditional and the modern.

The most far reaching movement – and ultimate death knell for feudalism in the north has started. The die was cast when the palaces of some previously revered emirs were attacked and destroyed in the aftermath of April’s elections; an important psychological barrier had been breached.

But the feudal systems and their clients are fighting back. And their most important weapon today is the hapless President Goodluck Jonathan. There is widespread belief that the president expended huge resources to secure the support of the northern oligarchy; he didn’t have to. For them, the fear of Buhari is the beginning of wisdom. They would have supported anyone against Buhari.

So when Nigerians criticise President Jonathan’s ineffectual approach to decision making and governance, they miss the point. The man is so beholden to the feudal class and other vested interests that brought him to power that cannot take any decisions inimical to their interests, real or imagined. The fact is, Nigerians who voted ‘Jonathan, not the PDP’ have become unwitting pawns in this long struggle.

Incidentally, most of the problems associated with the North’s long domination of government were not caused by the itinerant cobbler or the illiterate sugarcane hawker and other northerners we have learnt to hate. By electing Jonathan, Nigerians have strengthened the same people that plundered our resources and pauperized the nation. The ‘Jonathanians’ may be in a frenzy today, dancing to the possessed rhythms of power. It is sweet.

But do they know who is beating the drums?

I am not yet born….

2011-07-29T02:06:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

I am not yet born, but can see clearly the land that will one day be mine, the waters I shall one day seep and the citizenship that will one day become my millstone. I can hear plainly the cacophony of languages I will one day speak and the divisions that will be mine to inherit. I can see my future fellow citizens shuffling and hustling to mosques and churches with a fervour that burns hot and runs deep. Their faces are etched deeply by godless fervour, but hearts swathed by the shallow mosaic of deceit.

I am not yet in this world, but smell the putrefaction that pervades public life and the perfidy that prevails on private conduct. I see a leader completely disconnected from the pervasive reality of poverty: unable to grasp the enormity of his responsibility; unwilling to grapple with the inevitability of tough prudence and incapable of nurturing hope in the millions of hearts whose burden I will soon share. And so while others come into beauty and bounty, I know, before I am born that my yoke will be one of colossal debts, bone-crushing poverty and heart-wrenching hopelessness.

I am still to stare at the rays of sunlight that shines on our savannah, but its shadows have shown me clearly the similitude of the hospital where I will be born, the untrained hands that will be the first to hold me and the candles that will light my way. And I do know what the growling sounds in the distance are: the intestinal rumblings of the diesel generators that will shatter my present silence for all eternity and strum the arpeggio of my eardrums every minute, every hour, every day. I know that my solitary serenity will only return when I am deeply interred in the wombs of Mother Earth.

My eyes are still closed, my breathing shallow, but I sense the deep divisions that rend the land to which I will soon be born. I see a land where Muslims regard Christians with suspicion and where the latter regards the former with scorn. I see a land where the south feels it has been treated shabbily by leaders from the north and therefore see nothing wrong with being treated even worse by someone from the south, no matter how profligate, pernicious.

What I can see, but the older and supposedly wiser multitudes that came to this land before me refuse to perceive, is that Muslim or Christian, north or south, the elite eat together in private and share the loot as one while the masses are fed doses of hatred, intolerance and false hope. And so they wallow in poverty and regard the mismanagement of public resources as divine destiny, a prophetic mission.

I am not yet born, but already repulsed by the schools that I will one day attend. I can feel the cold bare floors, the shattered window panes, the peeling paints and crumbling masonry. I shudder at the cold stares my teachers will soon direct at me to and the hot volcanic anger that seems to spring from some deep-seated hatred of a profession they despise, but cannot leave. I know other pupils and I will bear the brunt. And because our leaders scoop funds for public schools to train their children abroad in select schools, I discern that I will go to school an unlettered ignorant and come out a certified ignoramus; no school will admit me for further studies and no employer will give me a job.

I am not yet born, but know that I cannot change the scam; I cannot exercise the liberty of choice because my democracy is a sham; I cannot evoke change by force because the armed forces will come in to kill and maim; I cannot flee to other lands because my passport is my shame; I cannot confide in my imams nor confess to my priests for they take part of the blame. And I cannot share these fears with my friends because we are not from the same zone, nor voice the truth because I speak a different tone. I cannot be myself because I have no right to be.

Dear God, I am not yet born, but pray thee: when I take my first breath and see my first sights, birth me not in the Nigeria of today; berth me not in a land sheared by lies, tears and fears, nor give me countrymen corralled by complacency and ignorance, unhearing, unseeing, unthinking.

How poverty fuels extremism

2011-07-15T01:23:00.001-07:00

A few years ago, former Central Bank Governor ‘Comical' Chukwuma Soludo reeled out the results of studies which clearly indicated that the north east geopolitical region of Nigeria was the poorest and least developed. Is there any coincidence with the fact that the same region has now become the haven of extremist groups posing serious security threats to the entire country? Why are we seeing almost daily attacks and loss of lives and property from Bauchi, Gombe to Maiduguri?

That Nigeria as a country is facing unprecedented political, social and economic crises is not in doubt. While each state has specific challenges, the north east region faces the risk of disintegration from the activities of extremist groups that seek to bring about violent change. The role of the region's political elite and fraudulent governors who have systematically narrowed the economic and political space to the exclusion of the majority, who wallow in poverty, unemployment, insecurity, cannot be discounted. Taking advantage of youth unemployment, the Gombe State government supported the ‘kallare' group; Bauchi State gave tacit support to the ‘sara suka', while the Borno government openly related with the ‘ecomog' group which directly or indirectly metamorphosed into the ‘boko haram'.

The forces fanning the flames of these extremist activities are fired not by any ‘jihadist' agenda as much as by failure of governments at all levels to create economic opportunities. All that people want are openings for honest work; markets for farm produce; hospitals when ill; schools that provide real education and security of life and property. But the political elite could not fathom the consequences of ignoring these legitimate demands of their people and chose to play politics with the issues. So poverty, unemployment and loss of hope became the norm. Bustling marketplaces and businesses became deserted and empty, echoing with the silence of inactivity. Agriculture, which used to employ large numbers of people, remained largely subsistence and dependent on the vagaries of weather.

Dysfunctional governments, ignorance and hopelessness have led people to the arms of extremists. This explains (but certainly does not excuse) the mindless violence that has become a national security threat. To worsen matters, the security agencies sent in to quell these disturbances end up coldly executing more people than the original violence they were ordered to control. In the midst of this confusion and lawlessness, people have become disconnected from reality, unable to adjust to inhuman levels of poverty on the one hand and the fear of reprisals and cold-blooded killing of young men by the military on the other.

True, poverty is not exclusive to the north but, obviously, we must reduce poverty to minimise the threats of extremism. An essential ingredient lacking in successive poverty eradication strategies in Nigeria has been the poor appreciation of the role of the private sector. Government efforts, rather than remain standalone, should aim to stimulate the private sector, both formal and informal, at the lowest levels of society. The private sector is the main engine of growth. Private sector development is thus crucial for increasing the pace of growth. The way the sector develops also has a strong bearing on the pattern of growth, influencing whether growth is broad or narrowly based and whether it is more or less inclusive of the poor, and whether it creates jobs. Fighting poverty must seek to make the most vulnerable stakeholders in the society.

Poverty alleviation programmes must reduce barriers to formalisation and make it easier for individuals and businesses to migrate from the informal to the formal sectors. Technical and financial assistance from all tiers of government, but particularly from community based poverty alleviation agencies, is crucial if we are to develop a productive and sustainable private sector. The custom of procuring and distributing motorcycles to multitudes of youth in the name of poverty alleviation has backfired spectacularly as the same motorcycles have become Boko Haram's operational vehicles.

It may be true that a hungry man is an angry man, but poverty cannot excuse anarchy. But again, unless and until the challenges of illiteracy, poverty, unemployment and loss of hope are addressed, the armies of unemployed youth on the ranks of extremist groups will remain ever ready to vent their angers, real or imaginary, on whatever represents the state. If poverty were to be seriously tackled, who wants to know if the President speaks Fulfulde or Ijaw, or whether he is Christian or Muslim? And which young person will choose to leave the warmth of a functional system in which he has a stake, to bear arms against the state?

Are Nigerians getting dumber?

2011-06-29T04:52:00.000-07:00

As a primary school pupil in the 1980’s, my classmates and I could take dictations with relative ease. Our teachers didn’t have to repeat themselves too many times and only spelt out words we were not familiar with. Some 20 years later as a PhD researcher in one of Nigeria’s ‘top’ universities, I got the shock of my life when lecturers (including some professors), began dictating notes to the class – and being told they were dictating too fast! This is not fiction. It really happened. And because not much has changed since then, I believe those professors are still there, dictating worthless notes to new doctoral researchers.

Perhaps I should not have been so alarmed; a few years earlier while pursuing a master’s degree, all but one of the lecturers dictated notes to the class or gave us antiquated notes stencilled from back in the 1980s to photocopy. This was over 10 years ago, but something tells me that if I go back to the faculty, I will still find the same lecturers dictating the same notes. Or I may find that some students in my class with whom I took those tedious notes are now lecturers and professors repeating the same useless lecture notes to tomorrow’s PhDs.

How did we come to such a sorry state? Does the mass failure rate mean that Nigerians are not as smart as they were a generation ago? What accounts for this disheartening situation? Why do over 90 percent of students fail English and Maths? Should we blame our educational policy, school environments, cultural issues and sheer laziness for the collapse of education? Or are we just getting dumber?

In trying to understand the catastrophic collapse of our educational system, I look back at the schools I attended and the fine and dedicated teachers we had. In addition to enjoying free education and the attention of well-trained teachers, all exercise and textbooks were provided free. On top of these, we also attended extra lessons. I remember saving my pocket money to buy my first book by myself from Kingsway stores aged seven. Spending days engrossed in the 20 volume edition of the American Peoples Encyclopaedia was entertaining.

In retrospect, the quality and variety of teachers in our secondary schools was astonishing. We had English teachers from India and Ghana; Biology and Mathematics teachers from the Philippines; I was taught Literature by a highly regarded Copt from Egypt as was my Islamic Knowledge teacher. The Nigerian teachers were very dedicated. While preparing to write GCE, we were taught how to write and answer questions in examination conditions, a method I use to this day. Writing GCE at age fourteen as I did was not unusual – and this happened at a government owned school.

While waiting to reach the minimum entry age for universities, I read a wide variety of works and authors since TV stations opened at 5 and closed by 11 pm. There were no computer games, Internet, or cable TV. I discovered my favourite writer, James A. Michener at fifteen when I read ‘The Source’ and read books by John Steinbeck, Leon Uris, Irwin Shaw and severally read James Clavell’s ‘Shogun’. Devouring William L. Shirer’s 1,600 page book ‘The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich’ was not intimidating in the least.

University offered another opportunity to interact with and learn from lecturers from as far away as Brazil, Jamaica, Britain, France, USA, Pakistan, Ghana, India and other places. The Nigerian teachers were just as committed. To enable us adapt to university life, we had special instructors who taught us Study Skills – specifically how to order classes, tutorials, presentations and how to use the library. This was in Nigeria.

I recall courses in different fields and learning things as abstract as numismatics, carbon 14 and lexicostatistics. We read the works of Lombroso, Chaucer, Gramsci, Tocqueville, Bentham, Mills, Nietzsche, Marcuse, Ibn Khaldun, Hitti and Pareto. We read Ousmane Sembene’s prose and memorized poetry from Soyinka’s ‘Poems of Black Africa’. We studied African resistance from Menelik II, the Maji-Maji Rebellion to the Mau-Mau Movement. We saw Europe built and Africa dismembered in class. We studied oral African literature and European poetry. Bismarck, Stalin, Roosevelt, Hitler, Churchill, Haile Selassie, Omar Mukhtar, Nyerere and Nkrumah came alive in class.

So are Nigerians getting dumber? The answer is no, we are not. But the schools and teachers we had are gone. The books have vanished and education is in steep decline. Not surprisingly, that void is reflected in the mediocrity that pervades all facets of life in Nigeria today.

He is our Brother

2011-06-16T22:28:00.001-07:00

Do I have to remind you of the tough battles we fought to get here? For decades, we were treated like second class citizens in this country. We were told that some people were born to rule forever, while we were to remain subservient. We prayed, we planned and we plotted. Today, by divine intervention we have reached the top. They tried to stop us. They said it was not our time. They said the position had to go back to them. But we came together and gave a resounding no. So they are not happy. They are now blaming our brother for all the problems in the country. But we cannot allow that to happen. We must protect him. He is our brother.

Friends, that is the message I have been asked to pass to you. We must develop strategies to shield our brother. When they say this government is corrupt, ask them, did our brother invent corruption? How many billions were stolen before our brother came to office? And by the way, did he ever promise to fight corruption in his manifesto? When it suits them, they say government is corrupt, but did they not steal money too? We must never forget to hit back when they say his government is corrupt. He is our brother.

Ladies and gentlemen, one of the most ridiculous things I hear people say today is that this government has no vision and mission. I laugh. In all the years they were in charge, tell me where was their own vision? And assuming they had one, where did it lead us? For how many years were we the laughing stock of the whole world? For 50 years, we had all kinds of charlatans in power leading us in circles of poverty and underdevelopment. They were not accused of lack of vision. Simply because one of us is there today, they are saying this government has no strategy to face our numerous challenges. Just ignore them; he is our brother.

Everyone is now saying this country is highly polarized between Muslim and Christian and between north and south. They accuse our brother of employing divide and rule tactics. Tell them: why not? Inform them that we were already divided. But what if he used divide and rule; is he the first? When they were in power, did they not use all sorts of shenanigans to divide us too? We all know what they did. They used the instruments of state and our very resources to create all sorts of divisions and schisms to ensure that we never spoke with one voice. Today, because we have learnt from them and used the same methods more effectively than they did, all kinds of accusations are flying. Forget about them. He is our brother.

They keep repeating that unemployment is a major issue that must be tackled and that government has no direction on what to do. So what? Did he create the problem? Was it not there before divine intervention gave him victory? For all the number of years they were in charge, ask them how many million jobs they created. Yes, bring out biros and papers and demand facts and figures. Ask them to give you the number of jobs they created. That will keep them quiet. And when they keep quiet, put it back to them: how do they expect him to create millions of jobs simply by waving a magic wand? Remember, he is our brother.

When it comes to the issue of power supply, the answer is very simple. Were we not living in darkness before he came to office? How many megawatts were we producing before he got there? You must remind them that when they were there, if they had built more power stations, we would not be where we are today. So even if he begins the construction of power stations today, it may take some years before we see the gains. Hopefully, he will still be there to enjoy the fruits of his labour. He is our brother.

My friends, the most dangerous ploy they have developed is to ask whether you - as a person - have benefited from his, or his party's largesse. They will scare you by saying all of us will suffer hardship and poverty from his incompetence and ineptitude. Tell them it doesn't matter. We also suffered under them. Insult them; call them names and distort the issues, but whatever you do - in person or on the Internet - protect, defend and shield him. He is our brother.

Village of the Empty Wells

2011-06-09T22:30:00.000-07:00

You may not remember me, but I am the oldest woman in the Village of the Empty Wells. The last well in the village is about to dry up and I must make my arrangements. I know that when the last drop of water seeps into the sand, my time is up. And I will sit down with my granddaughter and dictate my dirge. My funeral song will be my long sword from my dry, dusty grave.

When the last spring in my land can bring forth no more water, I shall ask them what crime I committed that condemned me to a life to drudgery and despair. I shall ask them why they made so many promises but kept so very little. They tell me a tonne of money was buried to sprout water, but the only trickle of water I see is when the clouds weep with despair on my dry, dusty dungeon.

I want to know why in an eon, the only change I see is that I trudged to fetch water with earthenware, while my granddaughters trek to fetch water with plastic ware. I shall seek to know why they built a mighty dam close to the Village of the Empty Wells, but refuse to give us any drip of water, and why they took over our ancestral farmlands to build the monstrosity that floods our fields and our graveyards. My ancestors still rage at that sacrilege.

When the river squeezes out its very last drop, and my herds can eke out nothing to moisten their tongues with, I know the end of my ancestral birthplace has come forth. So in my requiem, I shall seek to know what happened to the promises of water I cannot see, nor scent. I shall ask why they diverted my ancestral stream to feed the weir that is of no use to anyone in the Village of the Empty Wells.

In my litany of lament, I shall ask why they condemned my offspring and I to walking many miles each day to fetch brackish, muddy water that give us typhoid, cholera and dysentery. I will demand answers to why they let my sons drink water from the river from which they get guinea worm that leaves them useless for farm work. I shall ask why they let our husbands go blind from river blindness and not able to do any more farm work.

My funeral chant will spare no one. My long sword from the grave shall seek to know why my nephew who fled the Village of the Empty Wells for the city still ended up on the fringes of a city with no water. He tells me he buys every single drop of water; he fled the village for lack of water but ended up in a city with no water. I walk many miles to fetch diseased water; he uses hard-earned money to buy diseased water. The oasis he sought turned out to be a mirage; a milestone of misery.

My lamentation shall seek answers to why a land that is blessed with so much water and so much rainfall cannot give me water to drink. They must explain why my with so much abundance, water-borne diseases still kill so many. I shall ask about the charade of the time they brought the whole world to see a new borehole that stopped spewing the moment their motorcade left. It is now just another empty well in a village of many empty wells.

From the million miles of misery that is my lot, my back is bent, my feet calloused, my neck sore. But I refused to be cowed. I shall ask them why they stole so much just so they can pamper their palates with French bottled water, while my grandchildren choke their ways to this world on murky, muddy waters. When my time is up, the courage that eluded me for a lifetime will converge to give me voice. And I shall ask plenty of questions.

When the last well in the Village of the Empty Wells dries up, I shall spare no one. With my lone voice from the shallow sands that shall shortly swallow me, my funeral song shall say to them: only if there was no death; only if there was no ill health; only if they had gold in their breath; only if there was no end to the earth; only then would I envy vast their wealth. In time, I shall welcome them to the dry, dusty dead earth.

PRESIDENTIAL BROADCAST 2014

2011-06-02T22:00:00.000-07:00

My fellow compatriots, three years ago when I took oath of office as President and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, I was determined to serve a single term of four years and leave the stage. It was my intention to do all that was humanly possible to unify our country and heal the wounds caused by the 2011 presidential elections. I also pledged to transform Nigeria and make it a country we can all be proud of.

At the time I took office, 45 per cent of Nigerian youth were unemployed. We set up the Nigeria Job Creation Committee to address the problem. Despite our efforts however, the challenge of unemployment still remains and millions of Nigerians still have no jobs. I believe it would be unfair to bequeath such a critical problem to another administration without doing something about it.

My fellow compatriots, you may recall that even before I became president, majority of Nigerians lived in poverty. In the last three years, my government confronted poverty head-on. We have recorded some measure of success, but as you are aware, poverty cannot be eradicated within just four years. Our efforts are bearing fruit, but it will be some time before we can beat our chests proudly and declare that the battle against poverty has been won. I am optimistic that we will get there.

Four years ago, the federal government approved the establishment of nine federal universities in different locations in Nigeria. It makes me happy to inform you today that the first batches of students from those universities are about to graduate. Our political opponents may say none of our universities appears on the list of the top universities in the world. To them I say, education takes time to develop. The decay we met was too deep to be sorted out in three or four years. Though we are making progress, we need more time to consolidate.

As you are aware, there is a well-planned conspiracy by the international community to label Nigeria as the most corrupt country in the world. They do not understand our cultural values and norms, so they see simple ‘thank you' gestures to our friends, allies and traditional leaders as acts of corruption. But we all know that is not true. The EFCC, ICPC and Code of Conduct Bureau have recorded appreciable successes under my administration. The claim that we only go after our perceived opponents is certainly not true.

Our detractors have been making farcical allegations that government has returned the country to the debt trap, with nothing to show for it. I assure that every kobo of domestic and foreign loans we have taken is in the best interests of Nigeria. It is true that the capital intensive political activities of 2011 resulted in double-digit inflation, but we are working on it. It will be unjustified to leave huge debts and high inflation as our legacies to a new government. Obviously, a little more time is required to sort out these challenges.

On security, our political opponents only see the negative aspects of things without giving credit where credit is due. The amount of N162 billion that was budgeted for the office of the National Security Adviser in 2011 is public knowledge. Since then, we have consistently increased allocations to the NSA. We still have security challenges, but no one can question our commitment to the protection of lives and property of all Nigerians.

My fellow compatriots, in view of the litany of challenges still confronting our dear country, Nigeria, I have carefully considered my options and consulted widely with my family, party, state governors, traditional leaders and other stakeholders. The conclusion I have arrived at is that this administration requires four more years to consolidate the transformation we promised. It is my firm conviction that within the next four years, we will bring to a logical conclusion, the programmes and projects my government initiated.

Finally, I wish to reiterate my view that the vexed issue of zoning has done more harm than good to this country; what most Nigerians want is good governance. That is what I have offered since I came to office, and that is what I promise in the future. It is therefore with a deep sense of humility that I inform you of my intention to seek my party's nomination, and if successful, stand for election as president for another four years. No sane person would want to remain in such a difficult, thankless job, but it is a painful sacrifice I am prepared to make for our Fatherland.

Thank you, and long live the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

Strauss-Kahn and the African Woman

2011-05-27T22:33:00.000-07:00

That Dominique Strauss-Kahn, former Managing Director of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) has suffered a catastrophic collapse in fortunes in the last two weeks, is to repeat the obvious. For him, the journey from the $3,000 a night suite at the Sofitel, to the first-class compartment of a Paris bound Air France jet, to the notorious Rikers Island jail in New York probably happened in a blur, but spending a night at an isolated wing of the jail must have jolted him back to reality.

His bail conditions include a deposit of $1 million cash and $5 million in bonds. He also has to wear an electronic tag and is confined to an apartment in downtown Manhattan. To think that he is yet to face the trial that will determine his innocence or guilt! If he is eventually found innocent, his entire life's work and reputation may have been irretrievably damaged.

But the issue today is not about Dominique Strauss-Kahn or the IMF - the history of emerging economies like Nigeria and the IMF has not been a pleasant one, despite recent rapprochement. The issue today is the African woman, as represented by Nafissatou Diallo, the African immigrant from Guinea and single mother at the heart of the allegations against Strauss-Kahn.

The immediate questions that come to mind are: what if the alleged incident happened not in far away New York, but in a hotel in Africa? Would she have had the courage to report the incident? Would her employers have silenced her? Would the police believe her? And would the police have charged into the first-class compartment of a plane that was minutes from taking off to arrest one of the most powerful men in the world? Would the government of any African country proceed with the prosecution of such a powerful man? And would the allegations have come to light?

If the alleged event had happened in, say, Trancorp Hilton in Abuja, and the woman in question, a Nigerian, Strauss-Kahn would probably have had his way and that would be the end of the matter; another easy conquest. The woman would probably not want to risk her job by creating a scene or reporting to the hotel management. And if she had, the management would have set up a committee to look into her allegations.

It is debatable if the management would have had the prudence to report the matter to the police and risk embarrassing such a valuable guest. Nor are we sure that the police would be able to pluck him out of his plane and detain him. In all likelihood, Strauss-Kahn would have left the country, leaving behind a traumatized victim of sexual abuse, unable to voice out the assault, or any one to believe her. She would have had to live with the experience for life.

But beyond the exploitation and psychological trauma they often live with, the economic conditions of most African women have hardly improved. I recently witnessed women struggling to buy kerosene at an NNPC mega station. It was almost a battle of life and death as young girls and women struggled with hefty men to buy kerosene in gallons and jerry cans. In rural areas, they roam bushes to gather wood for cooking; in urban areas, they struggle with ‘area boys' and black marketers for kerosene.

Scarcity and the subsequent search for water is another difficulty that subjects women and young girls to a life of drudgery. It is estimated that women in Africa spend a significant part of their lives fetching wood or fetching water. In rural areas, they often walk miles to get a pail of water; in urban and semi-urban areas, they battle it out with water vendors, or buy water with meager resources.

The crux of the matter is, while ‘Dame' Patience Jonathan, Josephine Anenih, Inna Ciroma and gender activists are making an issue of 35 percent representation for women in public offices (obviously starting with the federal executive council), majority of women in Nigeria still live and die in poverty. Girl-child enrolment in schools is still significantly lower than that of boys. Life for ‘my fellow widows' (apologies to the Dame) is better imagined because cultural practices almost criminalize a woman outliving her husband. Opportunities in education, government, business and other sectors are still limited.

For this impoverished majority, the issue at stake is not about an invitation to the billion naira inauguration banquet or 35 percent of anything. The issue is extreme poverty and powerlessness. For them, the breath of fresh air is still very far away.

Welcome back to earth, Your Excellency

2011-05-19T22:21:00.000-07:00

"I am happy because we have humbled this man. He went and had his diploma in Zaria, and then became a permanent secretary in the civil service. From there, he left the civil service and within a few months, he became the governor. As a result, he now believes that whatever he imagines, whatever he conceives in his mind, would become a reality...before we knew it, he wants to be president..."

Those were the words of the governor-elect (and former governor) of Kano State, Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, describing Ibrahim Shekarau, his successor and predecessor as governor of the state.

What is it about the Nigerian political system that turns humble, down-to-earth human beings into demigods once in office? From a thoroughly debased prisoner, Olusegun Obasanjo became president 1999. Four years after leaving office in 2007, the country is yet to recover from the psychological trauma he inflicted on us with his supersized ego. Governors Sule Lamido, Danjuma Goje, Adebayo Alao-Akala, Ikedi Ohakim and Gbenga Daniel all seemed to develop feudal tendencies once in power.

In the case of Shekarau, from a humble classroom teacher, he rose to become a permanent secretary in Kano State. He was demoted back to a classroom teacher in what was regarded as political witchhunting only to end up as the governorship candidate of the opposition All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP) in 2003. He rode on the popularity of the party's presidential candidate Muhammadu Buhari to win the elections. His major selling points were his humility and self-deprecating nature.

In office, Shekarau started well. He ensured that salaries, entitlements and pensions of civil servants were paid on time. He promised to focus on human capital development and solve Kano's perennial water crises. But with time, the overwhelming powers and access to state treasury as governor may have gotten to his head. He fell out with most people who could tell him the truth, including Buhari, and began to entertain illusions of grandeur. He clinched one of the most coveted titles in the Kano Emirate - Sardauna. And so he thought he should be the president of Nigeria.

What happened to the humble man who went to Government House? What happened to the promises of honesty, transparency and accountability? Where did Shekarau get the money (possibly billions) to sponsor his presidential bid? Has his advertised fear of God made Kano a better place to live and work? What happened to Mallam?

As governor, it was obvious that Shekarau had lost touch with reality. This may be due to the fact that Nigerians are often afraid of speaking truth to those in power, especially the unpalatable variety. But he had a retinue of highly intelligent advisers and aides working with him. Perhaps, they did not have the courage to tell him the real truth, bitter as it may have been: That was to be reserved for the rude shock he received at the polls - losing at his own polling unit, three times in a row, to opposition parties. If his relatives and neighbors could not trust him with their votes, how could other Nigerians?

According to Kwankwaso, "At the end of the day, he (Shekarau) succeeded in purchasing the delegates across the country, and he has been sponsoring all the 36 state chapters of ANPP, plus Abuja, and the party structures in all the 774 local government areas with Kano State government treasury...here in Kano, there was no fundraising because the money was readily available....so they took money left, right and centre, and at the end of the day, with all the money spent on jingles and campaigns and even in the few states controlled by his party, the ANPP, they did not get up to one million votes nationally. I got over one million votes in Kano. What a big shame. If you calculate the cost of one vote for the taxpayers' money in Kano, you will be shocked".

Now that Shekarau has spent so much time, energy and resources to earn the title ‘former presidential candidate', I hope that his ambition is sated, and that the humbling lessons he has learnt will remain with him for life. Kwankwaso puts it very succinctly: "It is a huge embarrassment, but the good thing is that he is leaving Kano State Government House as a human being. Before now, he thought he was a super human being. So now that we have made him to become a human being, I think the lessons have been well learnt".

Welcome back to earth, Your Excellency!

NOW THAT I AM PRESIDENT...

2011-05-13T13:12:00.000-07:00

BY: Salisu Suleiman

Now that I am president, I am thoroughly at a loss on what to do. For starters, how can I possibly pick only 40 names out of over 300 that are lobbying to be ministers? I dashed to Obudu to get some work done, but they all followed me there. Madam wants her 35 percent; ‘Shambolic’ has some names; the party is angling for a few portfolios; current ministers want to be retained; yet every day, more CVs flood in.

To worsen matters, the country is broke. I had no idea the rent of Aso Rock would be this steep. True, I asked them to renew my tenancy, but did they have to empty the treasury? I know that a substantial amount of ‘agency’ fees ‘flew-by-night’ to private pockets. No wonder, they are already talking of an ‘exploratory team’ for 2015. They are all patting themselves in the back, happy with my ‘overwhelming’ mandate. I wonder, between me and them — who really won? They gave me the verdict, but took the vaults — leaving me to run the country on zero.

Now that I am president, what do I tell the 30 million youth who have no jobs and have little prospects of finding any soon? There was a proposal that the funds in the excess crude account be set aside to create jobs and stimulate the economy. Before anything concrete could emerge, those wolves, the governors descended on me with demands that we share the money. Now the money has disappeared, there is nothing to show for it. No wonder so many of them defied political logic and staged stunning re-election shows. I hope Nigerians do not begin to ask too many questions.

On the campaign trail, I promised to revive the education sector when elected. Now that the deed is done, how do I begin to crack this monstrous conundrum? Not a single university in Nigeria is among the list of the first 5,000 universities in the world. I remember we approved the opening of about nine new federal universities and ordered the release of N1.5 billion to each. With what I now know of civil servants, I suspect that very little of that amount will actually go to support the establishment of the new universities. Even then, where will we find the qualified people to teach in these schools and pay them competitive wages?

And talking of wages, how do I explain to workers that though I approved the minimum wage bill of N18,000, government cannot possibly pay them that amount without sacking thousands? I am told that the entire oil income for this year cannot pay workers’ salaries. Where are the funds to embark on capital projects? This year’s budget commits N2.5 trillion to recurrent expenditure, but we need to borrow money to finance even that. I shudder to imagine what will happen if the price of oil falls below $80 a barrel. Can’t we find money elsewhere to pay these huge bills? That Aganga chap, what has he been doing?

Now that reminds me of the promise I made to diversify our foreign exchange sources from oil. But what does that really mean? Looking at things from this side, where do I go? Is it to agriculture? But what have we put in place to stimulate the agricultural sector and improve productivity? Do our farmers have the capacity to produce food that will actually meet international standards? We approved N200 billion for the sector, most of which has been disbursed, but local food production has not gone up; the sector has not created jobs, and we still import rice worth over $2 billion annually. And some of the beneficiaries of the fund were prominent in my campaign...

And talking of prominent personalities in my campaign, old man OBJ has proved rather useless in the larger scale of things. He couldn’t even return his daughter to the Senate, but now wants me to appoint her a minister or ambassador. Meanwhile, I hope the details of the meeting between the ‘rascal’ and the ‘drunken fisherman’ never make it to public domain. But did I offer too much? Can I really grant all the demands he made to seal our pact?

In the meantime, how do I tackle corruption, insecurity, poverty, unemployment, and manage inflation? How do I improve power, education, health, public infrastructure, revive industries, diversify the economy and unify the country? When do I remove the subsidy on petroleum products, raise taxes and increase VAT?

Now that I am president….

THE COLOUR OF TRUTH

2011-05-05T22:47:00.001-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

Some responses to my blog have been enlightening, for which I am thankful. However, there has been a growing herd mentality and intolerance to differing views. The prisms of north/south, ‘us and them’ stereotypes were clear. When this blog censures Ibrahim Babangida or Umaru Yar’adua, patronizing responses like ‘this is the kind of northerner we like to relate with’ flood in. The moment a similar or even subtle criticism of Goodluck Jonathan is voiced, one is swarmed by accusations of bias and other meaningless comments. For opting to engage with the public, that is my privilege. If in the process, some people offload bile built up over decades; I am at your service.

The danger is that blind, obdurate abhorrence for simple truths may be clamouring to colour the essential shades of reason and decency. What is the point of being ‘educated and sophisticated’ when you refuse to see beyond the prism of intrinsic intolerance or pent up prejudice? Why it is perfectly acceptable for a writer to carp people from one part of the country while another part is sacrosanct and off limits? Is this another case of ‘if you are not with us, you are against us’?

I once wrote a piece about Nigeria’s former first lady, titled ‘A week without Turai’ (I had no idea she was gone for good) and got enthusiastic support for my ‘objectivity’ and ‘dispassionate approach’ to writing. In a later piece, I made restrained references to the current first lady, Patience Goodluck’s way with English language and got hate mail. The point made is that Turai Yar’adua is a ‘go-go’ while Mrs Jonathan is a ‘no-no’. What is the difference between the two, except that they are from different parts of the country?

The first time I marched on the streets against the authorities was as an idealistic 16-year-old university student in company of other students opposed to General Babangida. I have been in consistent opposition to injustice — sometimes at personal peril, but it took more than 20 years to bring me out to the streets again — this time, against late Yar’adua. That was last year when I took an early flight to Lagos to march with members of the Save Nigeria Group who wanted due process to be followed and power handed over to then vice president, Jonathan; and then flew back home by the last flight. In the sweltering heat and humidity of Lagos, I said to myself, if Wole Soyinka in his 70s can do it, so will I. I had known Yar’adua personally for years, but had never met Jonathan at that time.

Again, a week later, I joined demonstrators from the Unity Fountain to the gates of the National Assembly in Abuja. I personally prepared the letter (with the same computer I am writing this) which was submitted to then vice president Jonathan stating the need for a constitutional resolution to the crisis. Within a week, the famous ‘doctrine of necessity’ made him acting president. The point of this background is not to prove anything; I owe no one that exertion, but to show why it is droll to label me anti-south or anti-whatever. Not that it matters.

What matters is that Jonathan has been president for a year now. Where are the strategic plans and programmes that will take Nigeria to the next level? Have we shaken off the Yar’adua-like lethargy? Are we not alarmed at his choice of friends — Olusegun Obasanjo, Tony Anenih, Ibramim Mantu, Jerry Gana and others that contributed to the institutionalization of corruption and deceit in our country? In retrospect, it is obvious that he thought he needed them for his election as president. (Turns out, he didn’t). But having won the election, will he have the liver (and lever) to quietly ease out these toxic personalities from his inner caucus? The danger is that, for as long as these people remain in government circles, the president will not achieve anything beyond winning elections this year and, possibly, re-election in 2015. Then what?

In the meantime, after the post-election euphoria, are we not entitled to questions about unemployment, poverty alleviation and corruption? Or that government proposes to spend N2.5 trillion on recurrent expenditure this year, but much less for capital projects? What happened to the Excess Crude account? Which serious government approves a multi-billion naira package to revive local textile industries, then lifts the ban on importation of cheap textiles (and toothpicks) a week later?

You see, truth has no colour. And there is nothing I can do about that.

Chains of Democracy

2011-05-02T01:43:00.000-07:00

We were told it would give us freedom, but got chains
We were promised progress, but returned to the dark ages
Where we expected bread, it fed fat on our hungers
While we prayed for hope, it grew on our fears
When we cried out, their bullets overcame our ballots

We went out to vote with hope our hearts
Young and old; we held up our cards
Visions of a better future glowing in our heads
Parting ways with hosts to retrace long lost homes
Only to find freedom supported by chains

We voted because we believed the promises
As we were plied with new lies to quell old tears
We watered the bud of hope with our precious votes
And failed to fan the flames of fast fading hopes
So the justice we touch has the feel of steel chains

We watch their possessed, frenzied dance, drenched in silent tears
Powerless, as liberty is locked up in democracy’s empty cellars
And shackled when starvation becomes food for the masses
We were assured that democracy would put food on tables
But the table is beyond our thwarted, manacled hands

We were promised balms to sooth our open wounds
Yet we are but pawns to impress conned observers
We were promised homes with proper roofs
Yet our children are born under the glare of naked flares
For the democracy they gave us is wrapped in feral lies

We were promised light in our lives and clothes on our bent backs
But we have learnt to see in the dark and wrap with old rags
We yearn for the hope that once pledged so many riches
Yet, know that redemption may only come in our graves
Everyone says the votes were free, yet we feel like slaves.

‘Arab Awakening’ in Arewa?

2011-04-28T23:25:00.001-07:00

By Salisu Suleiman

If there is anything the repressive Arab regimes of the middle east and north Africa and the traditional institutions in parts of northern Nigeria share, it is the deliberate misinterpretation of Islam to hold on to power while abusing human rights and dignity. There is often a convenient convergence of culture and the clergy to perpetuate this fraud on the people. In Saudi Arabia, less than 1,000 princes and members of the royal family control a country that earns about $1 billion every day when oil prices climb above 100 dollars a barrel.

Similarly, in parts of northern Nigeria, members of royal houses and those ‘honoured’ with traditional titles dominate choice positions in government and elsewhere. Few people know that during the 1979 primaries of the National Party of Nigeria (NPN), blue-blooded Shehu Shagari was the preferred choice of the northern elite over ‘commoner’ Maitama Sule. One of the first politicians to challenge the power of the northern traditional establishment was the late Aminu Kano who ran for president under the Peoples Redemption Party (PRP). Kano, just like the CPC’s Muhammadu Buhari, never got the backing of that powerful group.

History teaches that injustice and oppression do not last forever. That is why after decades of misrule, a new generation has finally mustered the courage to say ‘enough is enough’. First, it was Tunisia, then Egypt. Yemen is burning. Syria is on edge. Morocco, Jordan, Algeria and Saudi Arabia are trembling. The United States conveniently overlooked the crushing of the pro-democracy movement in Bahrain, while the West has hijacked a popular movement in Libya with a dubious military intervention. Whatever form it may take, one thing is clear – democracy is in the air.

In a way, the Arab awakening is also blowing across the north. True, we have many people who have risen above the system to educate themselves and confront the challenges of today’s world head-on. For these, education has been the key. Conversely, for a majority of northerners, illiteracy is all-pervading. It is a sad reflection on the quality of leadership that even when ‘commoners’ make it to positions of power and authority, they are quickly absorbed into the elite class and given traditional titles. In gratitude, this new ‘royalty’ forget their roots and serve the interests of the traditional establishment.

But like our Arab contemporaries, a new generation of people in the north is beginning to realise that a distorted version of Islam has been used to enslave them for too long; there is nothing Islamic about poverty and illiteracy. The only leader they could trust is General Buhari in whom they saw a beacon of hope – that explains their support for the incorruptible general. He represented a change from leaders that only exploit and impoverish them; Buhari’s loss resulted in massive voter apathy in the north and the virtual collapse of the opposition in the governorship elections, to PDPs joy. People say: “Why bother voting when nothing will change?”

When the results of the presidential elections (under-aged voting and 99.96 per cent and all) came out, the north’s long oppressed and down-trodden saw their hope of emancipation dashed, triggering the senseless slaughter of innocent people. Unfortunately, there are no military (or violent) solutions to political problems. This may explain why the peaceful change in Tunisia and Egypt succeeded while Libya’s armed rebellion is festering. If those who engaged in this dastardly act read newspapers, I would have asked: did the ordinary citizen eking out a livelihood and minding his business inflate the figures? No religion condones the killings and the subsequent reprisals. The violence serves no purpose; is condemnable and completely uncalled for. It is totally indefensible and can only be explained, but certainly not justified, as the result of mindless, directionless mob action. Even Buhari’s motorcade unknowingly drove into the mayhem and was equally attacked.

Ultimately, for the northern traditional establishment and political elite, the chickens have come home to roost. Who would have imagined northern masses approaching the palaces of emirs not to pay homage, but with intent to loot and burn? Or reports that the Sultan was pelted with sachets of ‘pure water’? True, a revolt against an anachronistic feudal system is needed, but that does not excuse killing innocent people. For genuine change agents seeking to kick out a corrupt and visionless ruling class, (another plentiful national resource), our support and edification is needed, not the usual ‘almajiri’ or ‘bloodthirsty’ northerner taunts.

The road to liberty is paved with adversity, but with understanding, the Nigeria of our dreams may yet emerge.

Nigeria: Parole Denied

2011-04-22T00:11:00.000-07:00

The records show that retired judge, Vincent Ogbulafor, sentenced you to 60 years in jail for crimes against humanity. In passing judgement, you were found liable for the mismanagement of hundreds of billions of dollars since independence while your people languished in poverty. You fought a brutal civil war but learnt few lessons from that tragedy. You had several coups and counter coups that upstaged elected governments. You put in place some of the most corrupt regimes ever in the world and saw to the theft of public resources in ways never before imagined. In all that period, you never managed to hold any free or fair elections, except for the one of June 12, 1993, which you promptly annulled.

Recall that the judgment was also predicated on the fact that within two decades of adulthood, all the roads, railways and even the national airline you inherited were grounded. From one of the most efficient railway systems in Africa, you now have almost nothing despite billions sunk to develop that mode of transport. It is true that you inherited narrow roads, but in some places, those pre-colonial roads are still the only ones people use. The huge expressways you embarked on building are now death tracks that kill and maim people every day. Those that diverted the monies meant for road rehabilitation are now part of your inner caucus. How do you want to convince me that you have changed?

Against wise counsel, you embarked on massive borrowing from foreign agencies like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank and wasted those monies on dubious, ill-conceived and ill-executed programmes, some of which never saw the light of day. Your actions left your people with massive foreign debts which were crippling foreign reserves and threatening development. At huge cost, you deprived your people of basic things like good schools, hospitals, roads and water to pay off those debts in one fell swoop. It is sad to note that within a few years of escaping the debt trap, you have fully returned to borrowing monies on unfavourable terms, for mostly indeterminate and largely unseen projects. As we speak today, your domestic and foreign debts have shot up sharply once more, yet you keep requesting permission to borrow more.

In delivering its judgement, the court also took cognisance of the fact that when you reached the legal adult age in 1960, you had one of the most productive agricultural sectors in the world. Your groundnut pyramids were known the world over. Your cocoa used to be one of the best varieties in the entire world and was much sought after. You had some of the largest rubber plantations in the world. Not only could you feed yourself, you exported food to other parts of the world. Today, you waste over $2 billion to import rice that is inferior to what you grow locally and $1 billion to import processed orange juice when you have orange plantations rotting away.

When you started in 1960, you represented the most important hope and inspiration of the black race. Every black person, not just in Africa but the entire world, looked up to your leadership and certain destiny. How did you pay back those hopes and expectations? With deep, heart wrenching disappointment. You never learnt to walk, not to talk of flying the hope we had in you. Today, you do not even inspire your own citizens, much less the black race. Your small and much less endowed cousin, Ghana, has taken up that charge with flying colours.

All of that aside, the most important reason for my ruling today is that four years ago, you stood on that same spot and made the same arguments. You promised to disabuse the electoral process to ensure that the will of the people, no matter how disagreeable, was respected. The fact is that you have neither changed in your character, nor exhibited remorse for your crimes. Rather, each passing day, your activities continue to embarrass every rule of common civility. You conducted the most expensive elections in history, but ended up with controversy.

In view of the foregoing, I cannot at this stage favourably consider your application for parole. You are to be returned to the custody of poverty, insecurity, corruption and profligacy for four years. If in that time conditions convince you to radically change your ways, this court shall listen with a sympathetic ear. Until then, you leave me with no options but to reject your application.

Parole denied.

Contextualizing protests in Northern Nigeria

2011-04-19T02:15:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

It is easy to construe the violent protests that broke out in several northern states following the April 16th presidential elections as signs of intolerance or do or die politics. The mathematical miracles reflected in the results make a categorical endorsement of the elections as free and fair difficult, but even before the results of the elections had been declared, protests had broken out in many parts of the region. If any church or Christian was targeted, it is condemnable and completely uncalled for. It is totally indefensible and can only be explained, but not justified as the result of mindless, directionless mob action.

In reality, the targets of the uprising are the so-called leaders in the North – the political, military and business elite as well the traditional institutions that have held the region back and truncated any attempt to educate the people and free them from the yolk of illiteracy and poverty. In the same manner that sit tight rulers in North Africa and the Middle East are being toppled by popular movements in the Arab Spring uprisings, the protests in northern Nigeria can be viewed as rebellion against a backward and anachronistic feudal system. Karshen Zalunci (End of Oppression) might be an apt description.

As far back as 1955, the Western Region introduced free education as a policy. Today, the products of that forward thinking strategy and their offspring dominate education, the civil service, business, financial services, medicine, law and a host of other professions in Nigeria and beyond. Even now, which of the north’s 19 states has a free education policy? So the region has millions of uneducated and unskilled young men and women with little opportunities today and worse prospects still, for tomorrow.

It is this disillusionment that is fueling the anger and resentment. It is an extraordinary development that mobs are approaching the palaces of Emirs not with reverence, but with intent to attack and destroy them and their occupants; the masses finally understand that when their leaders say ‘north’, it is not the north as a viable, coherent geo-political entity, but one where a few individuals usurp power and resources to the exclusion of the majority who wallow in poverty and illiteracy.

To illustrate the level of decay and neglect, a few examples are vital: today, a single state in the South has more school enrolments than an entire geo-political zone in the north. A primary school in Rafin-Pa in the outskirts of Zaria has 300 pupils who share two classes. A chalk line on the floor serves as demarcation for the different classes. It has two teachers, including the headmaster; there are more private universities in a state in the South than all federal, state and private universities in a northern zone. There is only one state owned university of science and technology in the entire north. A single university in the south graduates more students than several in the north.

Healthcare is not any better. Most states in the south have more doctors than any zone in the north. Recently, a volunteer group organized a medical caravan to assist a small village with basic medical services, only to be confronted with many patients requiring surgery and other more serious medical attention from surrounding settlements. Government healthcare has never reached majority of people, so they die from preventable, treatable diseases that should have been long eradicated. Cholera, dysentery, meningitis, polio and other preventable diseases are prevalent in the region which has stalled the elimination of polio from Africa. The region’s elite would rather keep their stolen wealth in Switzerland, Dubai, Hong Kong and South Africa.

Agriculture, the region’s great area of comparative advantage and mainstay of its economy remains subsistence and dependent on the vagaries of weather. This is in spite of the many dams and huge tracts of fertile land the region possesses. The Sahara desert is inching downwards every year. Entire settlements have been engulfed. Water sources are drying up rapidly; deforestation is exposing millions of people to the elements and making the region vulnerable to drought, flooding and other environmental catastrophes. Rapid population expansion further puts pressure on existing resources, while armies of unemployed youth troop to towns and cities in search of non-existing opportunities. Northern elite would rather compete about who lives in a more expensive part of London, the French Riviera or Dubai.

Of course, many Northerners have worked and succeeded in many fields, but the region’s political elite only use public offices to divert funds for personal use. Corruption is central to the region’s poverty and maladministration. The stolen funds are used to buy homes in Europe, America and the Middle-East. It is warped thought process: grab as much money as possible; open foreign bank accounts; buy estates in Europe and America, with a stopover in Dubai. And never forget to visit Mecca every year to feign religiosity.

For those seeking to understand the outbreaks of violence, there is another north. There is a north that has nothing to do with the usurpation of political and economic opportunities to the exclusion of other Nigerians. There is a north that is poor, hungry, illiterate and devoid of hope. There is a north that is as much a victim as the south of the corruption and arrogance of these narrow clique of northerners that is often presented as representing the entire region.

For this north, the various administrations headed by northerners have not resulted in better lives, education or improved opportunities. This north does not send its children to school in the US, UK and other locations while local schools are systematically ruined. This north does not fly to Europe or America every fortnight for medical checkups or shopping sprees in Dubai. This north does not own foreign bank accounts in London, New York, Dubai, South Africa, Jordan, Beijing and Hong Kong; they own no bank accounts at all. This north that does not allocate all the best positions in the country to its children, qualified or not. This north simply wants change.

This is the north that is coming out to fight for its survival. As long as they stick to the objective of forcing out the corrupt and visionless elite, they need our support and understanding, not the usual ‘almajiri’ taunts. Perhaps, a better Nigeria might yet emerge.

A different kind of war

2011-04-15T00:52:00.001-07:00

By Salisu Suleiman

All schools were closed down. No form of teaching or learning took place for the duration. When it was discovered that the private school the president’s children attend did not close down along with others, public outcry forced it to close down also. After the initial two weeks, an extension was sought and granted. So for an entire month, all primary and secondary schools in the whole country were shut. Even in tertiary institutions, not much activity took place.

In that one month period, every Nigerian aged 18 and above was practically drafted to put down their names and fingerprints at various centres. Government said it was a civic duty. Preachers harangued citizens on the need to perform this divinely inspired responsibility. Parties tried every trick known and unknown to get people to these centres. Civil society groups made sure they were not left out and they shouted loudly on the need for citizens to participate in the noble exercise. Public holidays were declared in several states to ensure that the details of all eligible citizens were captured. Sophisticated digital equipment, worth over USD 500 million, were imported. At the end of one month of frantic activity, including a week’s extension, over 73 million gallant Nigerians had voluntarily participated in the noble cause.

D-Day. The nation’s land, air and sea borders are closed. All flights are grounded. Movement within cities and towns is restricted. Interstate travel is forbidden. An explosion in the outskirts of the capital leaves about 20 people dead and many more injured. Another explosion in a far-north-east city leaves about five people dead and several injured. There is sporadic gunfire in many towns. Gunfights break out, leaving many people dead. The whole country is awash with firearms. There is fear of violence in the air.

There is palpable tension everywhere. International monitoring groups and other observers are moving about from one location to another trying to ascertain the state of things. There are roadblocks manned by fierce-looking policemen every few streets. The military is out in force. Armoured personnel carriers can be seen at strategic locations. It seems that everybody that ever wore any form of uniform, albeit decades ago, is wearing the uniform and strutting about. The economy shuts down completely; hardly anything can be bought or sold and most services are severely curtailed.

The currency is under tremendous strain. Some $22 billion from the Excess Crude Account set up as a stabilization fund is said to have been withdrawn. A major newspaper reports this story: “In a move targeted at meeting dealers’ rising appetite for forex as … draws nearer, the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) has increased its supply of dollar at the bi-weekly Wholesale Dutch Auction System (WDAS) to $600 million. The regulator had raised its supply to $400 million at its March 14 auction, from between $200 and $300 million, which it had offered at various auctions in the preceding month. Dealers attributed the trend to panic over the outcome of the forthcoming….”

In every nook and corner, people are gathered together in groups whispering all sorts of news and looking anxiously over their shoulders. No one is sure of what is really happening, so the rumour mill begins work over time. This group will conquer the southwest and make inroads into the north central. That group will march into the government houses of this and that state. No, it has a splinter group that has vowed not to rest until they wrestle their ‘enemies’ out of town.

There is talk of multifaceted campaigns, strategies and conquests. Popular language on the streets is “no retreat, no surrender until we capture that zone”. “We will defeat them, bring them to Abuja and lock them up” is what I heard some people whispering. Other people are told “the outcome of this struggle will determine what happens to your life and that of your children; you must be vigilant”. “We will protect our mandates and fight to the finish to ensure that we break the chains of injustice and oppression that must not be allowed....”

Prayers are offered in mosques and churches. Some groups embark on fervent fasting. The president attends midnight prayer sessions and seeks prayers for victory. Prayer warriors of all faiths are engaged in frantic appeal to the Almighty to ensure that victory is certain....

This setting is not in Ivory Coast. The scene is not from Libya. And no, the country is neither being invaded nor has it declared a war.

It is election time in Nigeria.

Buhari and the northern elite

2011-04-08T02:42:00.001-07:00

By Salisu Suleiman

For many citizens planning to vote the Jonathan/Sambo ticket in the presidential elections, the issue is not about what the ticket has to offer or due to any sterling performance. The issue is not whether the ticket is particularly inclined (or even desirous) of fighting corruption. They will not be voting for Goodluck Jonathan because he has any clear vision of how to rebuild infrastructure, revive ailing industries or restructure the country. They will be voting for one reason: it is the time of the south. They argue, correctly, that the north has produced more leaders than other regions without much impact. For these people, no matter how bereft of ideas and colourless Mr. Jonathan and his dour deputy may be, they will vote him because it is ‘our turn’.

These people are right. The north has produced more leaders and has been in power longer than other regions. The governments of Shehu Shagari (1979-1983), Ibrahim Babangida (1985-1993), Sani Abacha (1993-1998) and Umaru Yar’adua (2007-2010) are best forgotten.

To those not familiar with the idiosyncrasies of the region, the ‘north’ is one huge mass of people who have dominated the political space, especially the presidency, to the near exclusion of other zones. To them, the death of late Yar’adua and the subsequent ascension of then vice president Jonathan to the presidency was a ‘divine’ coup and poetic justice of sorts. The idea of willingly relinquishing the presidency so soon, to another northerner, is an anathema. No one should question their rationale or judgement. It is one of the beauties of democracy that people can vote for any, every, and no reason.

However, beneath the ‘it is our turn’ justification lies the barely hidden desire to castrate the north politically. In this calculation, if Mr. Jonathan wins the election and quits (very unlikely) in 2015, it will then be the turn of the south east to produce the next president. This is the grand vision to politically emasculate the north. But the question is, which north?

Are they referring to the north of Ibrahim Babangida, Aliyu Gusau, Atiku Abubakar, Adamu Ciroma, Barnabas Gemade, Solomon Lar, Bello Mohammed Halliru, Samaila Sambawa, the Sarakis, Ibrahim Mantu, David Mark, Ahmed Makarfi, Jerry Gana, Sarki Tafida, Jonathan Zwingina, Mukhtari Shagari etc? By ‘north’, are they referring to the emirs, chiefs and traditional institutions or the retired military generals and other elite in the region? If the answers to these posers are yes, then they have missed the mark.

There is another north. There is a north that has nothing to do with the usurpation of political and economic opportunities to the exclusion of other Nigerians. There is a north that is poor, hungry, illiterate and devoid of hope. There is a north that is as much a victim as the south of the corruption and arrogance of these narrow clique of northerners that is often presented as representing the entire region.

For this north, the various administrations headed by northerners have not resulted in better lives, education or improved opportunities. This north does not send its children to school in the United Kingdom, United States and other locations while local schools are systematically ruined. This north does not fly to Europe or America every fortnight for medical checkups or shopping sprees in Dubai. This north does not keep bank accounts in London, New York, Dubai, South Africa, Jordan, Beijing and Hong Kong; they own no bank accounts at all. This north that does not allocate all the best positions in the country to its children, qualified or not. There is a north that simply wants change.

And that is the north coming out to speak. So when we see millions of people trooping to catch a glimpse of Muhammdu Buhari, the presidential candidate of the Congress for Progressive Change, it is not because they have anything against Mr. Jonathan. The problem they have is the emissaries he has sent to woo their votes – the same people that have systematically impoverished the region and the country. Northern elite despise Buhari vehemently because they know he will destroy their power base and end their corruption and nepotism.

For those voting Mr. Jonathan just to defeat ‘northern domination’, the twist is that a Jonathan presidency would actually further enrich and empower these reviled northern vultures because Mr. Jonathan needs them (or thinks he does). The ultimate irony is that the real key to eliminating the power base of this corrupt and arrogant northern political class lies with electing a northerner.

A word for political godfathers

2011-03-29T07:23:00.000-07:00

The ferocious battle between former president, Olusegun Obasanjo, and Ogun State governor, Gbenga Daniel, over control of politics and power in the state, and its dramatic, if comical (and largely) farcical resolution, brings to focus the issue of godfathers, godsons and the godlessness all sides exhibit in what is primarily a battle for the control of public resources.

Across Nigeria, similar battles are raging among former political partners, now mortal enemies. In 2003, Obasanjo facilitated the massive rigging that brought Daniel to power. Today, despite the public rapprochement, nobody is fooled. It is only a matter of time before the next big fight. In Lagos State, Tinubu and his selected successor, Fashola, are only just getting along. In Oyo State, Adebayo Alao Akala has practically fought all the people that brought him to office.

In the north central states, bloodless (and sometimes very bloody) battles are being fought between erstwhile political allies, now bitter foes. In Kwara State, the Saraki family is torn into two distinct camps. If, as has been suggested, the entire saga is a carefully scripted play, the scars may not heal that quickly. In Benue State, George Akume imposed Gabriel Suswam in 2007. Today, Suswam has chased Akume out of the PDP. The latter is battling to ensure that his new party, the ACN, takes control of the state. In Nasarawa State, former governor Abdullahi Adamu insisted on Aliyu Akwe Doma in 2007. The two engaged in skirmishes until they reached a truce for self preservation. But Adamu had to battle his former protégé, Abubakar Sodangi, to wrestle the PDP’s ticket for the Senate. His former ally, Mohammed Hassan, has joined the CPC. Kogi and Plateau States have similar stories.

In the north west, former governor Saminu Turaki of Jigawa State decamped to the PDP and endorsed the emergence of Sule Lamido as governor. Today, Turaki has been harried out of the PDP and had to join the ACN to re-contest his Senate seat. In Kebbi State, former governor Adamu Aliero abruptly left the ANPP, joined the PDP and ensured victory for his handpicked successor, Saidu Dakingari. Today, Aliero has left PDP for CPC. Both are working to stop the other.

In Kaduna State, former governor Mohammed Makarfi and his chosen successor, Namadi Sambo, had a frosty relationship and both eyed the vice presidency. Sambo’s rise to the number 2 slot knocked out the rivalry, but the bitterness remains, masked in the more immediate challenge of retaining their positions. Another vicious godfather-protégé fight is the one between former Zamfara governor, Ahmed Yerima, and his successor Mahmud Shinkafi. Several lives have been lost in the enmity. Shinkafi has taken the extraordinary step of dethroning Yerima’s elder brother as traditional ruler.

In the north east, Jibril Aminu who was imposed as Senator by former vice president Atiku Abubakar in 2003, found it convenient to vehemently oppose Atiku’s presidential ambition and even return to the PDP. In 2007, Aminu was powerful enough to insist on Murtala Nyako as governor of Adamawa. Today, Nyako has politically neutralized Aminu by scuttling his return to the Senate. On the other hand, Buba Marwa who was nominated as ambassador by Nyako is riding on the crest of Buhari’s popularity to wrest the governorship from the latter. In Taraba, former governor Jolly Nyame, unable to facilitate the emergence of his former houseboy (who he made Commissioner of Finance), settled for Danbaba Suntai. Today, both politicians are out to neutralize each other. In Bauchi, Isa Yuguda has fallen out with virtually everybody that facilitated his appointment as minister of aviation and eventual election as governor. His position as former presidential son in-law is now of no value.

In the south east, the fight between Orji Kalu and Theophilus Orji of Abia, has an almost surreal shade – and a certain Okija Shrine. In Enugu, the bitter feud between Chimaroke Nnamani and his anointed successor, Sullivan Chime, is a fight to the finish. A similar show is playing out in Imo between Achike Udenwa and Ikedi Ohakim. Throw in the mix of Ifeanyi Ararume’s ACN, Rochas Okorocha’s APGA, and the stage is set for a showdown.

Also, in the south south, the spectacular fallout between former Akwa Ibom governor Victor Obong Attah and anointed successor, Godswill Akpbabio, is public. The same applies to former Rivers governor Peter Odili and Rotimi Amaechi. The collapse of the friendship of former Cross River governor Donald Duke and Liyel Imoke is obvious.

Playing godfather is obviously a very dangerous pastime, but will our politicians learn?

Suleiman's Blog: Do You Know Who I am?

2011-03-14T12:45:00.000-07:00

Suleiman's Blog: Do You Know Who I am?: "At the airport. It is the peak travel period. Every available flight has been booked. There are thousands of intending travelers all despera..."

Do You Know Who I am?

2011-03-12T09:20:00.000-08:00

At the airport. It is the peak travel period. Every available flight has been booked. There are thousands of intending travelers all desperate to be on the next plane. On the line for the last available flight are harassed travelers, children, pregnant women, the aged and the physically challenged. It is absolute mayhem as touts, family and friends jostle to secure tickets for relatives and other travelers.

Just when things could not get more chaotic, a traveler walks in with a retinue of security aides and assistants. His aides walk straight to the counter, shoving aside other travelers, and demand a ticket on the flight for ‘oga'. A few travelers protest, but the majority simply look on, either too tired to protest or thoroughly intimidated by the new arrival's security escorts. He gets his ticket and proceeds to the check-in counter, totally oblivious to the other travelers who had been at the airport for hours. His look of deep contempt says it all: do you know who I am?

It is a public hospital. Hundreds of sick people are waiting to see the few doctors available. Most of them have been there since dawn and have no idea when or if they will be attended to. From those with the classic symptoms of malaria to others with more serious ailments, the wait is endless. Some of them seem on the verge of death, but they all wait stoically. There are children with temperatures hovering dangerously high. A few patients are in wheelchairs, with their relatives hoping and praying for a miracle. The air is choked with the stench of disease, despair and death.

In this turmoil, a woman walks in with nurses and other medical personnel in tow. She doesn't look too ill and has the air of someone who can afford a private hospital. But why waste money on private clinics when you can get treatment free of charge at a government hospital where you have friends? So she is moved ahead of other patients and enters the consulting room to see a doctor. The patients who have been on the line for hours do not even bother to complain. They know it would make no difference and are afraid of being victimised by the hospital attendants, who can make their files disappear or move them to the back of the line. When the woman emerges from the consulting room, she looks haughtily at the other patients and strides off importantly. Her countenance says it all: do you know who I am?

At a petrol station. Tanker drivers are on strike because a policeman shot and killed one of them over N20. There is immediate shortage of petrol and diesel. Black markets have sprung up miraculously. The lines of vehicles are kilometres long. You have been sitting in your car for several hours with no food, a bottle of water and little hope of getting any fuel. The pump attendant you gave a generous tip last week won't even answer your greetings today, or even look in your direction.

Just when the cacophony peaks, a convoy of vehicles forces its way to the pump and a phalanx of uniformed escorts takes over and demands that their vehicles be served. Some motorists honk in protest, but even the usually boisterous taxi and bus drivers only grumble beneath their breaths and do nothing. They have no idea who is in the dark tinted SUV, but suspect he must be important to have mobile policemen as escorts. When the intruders have had all their tanks filled up and screech out of the petrol station, the VIP does not even bother to look up from his newspaper, but the smug smile says it all: do you know who I am?

It is a very busy day in the bank. It is month end, and workers are anxious to draw their salaries. The ATM has broken down, so every minor transaction is being done manually. Then transactions slow down to a trickle and finally stop. The ‘network is down'. While all customers are waiting for the network to ‘come up', a customer walks in, sizes up the situation then walks straight to the manager's office. Shortly after, he walks out with a conceited look on his face. He makes a point of casting a look of disdain at the waiting customers. Without saying a word, he says it all: do you know who I am?

Bode George and the 40 Tips

2011-03-05T21:50:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

Why are we so outraged by the rapturous celebrations that greeted the release of ‘Lagos Boy’ Bode George from his two-year prison term? What is wrong with celebrating freedom when you have N100 billion to fall back on? And what do we expect from a party that has Olusegun Obasanjo, Tony Anenih, Ibrahim Babangida, Jerry Gana, Atiku Abubakar, Depreiye Alamiesegha, James Ibori, Peter Odili, Adamu Ciroma and others among its top echelon?

If a list of 100 were to be compiled, containing the names of people that have pauperized Nigeria and reduced the country to a theatre of unending tragicomedy, 80 of the names would probably be PDP top shots. And the remaining 20 would be ex-members who were pushed off the table with the national cake. Anyone in doubt should ask for a list of the case files at the EFCC. It is no accident that an overwhelming majority of persons with pending and ongoing cases are umbrella men.

Current or former members of the party with corruption cases include: former governors Jolly Nyame, Saminu Turaki, Boni Haruna, Joshua Dariye, Rabiu Kwankwaso, Abdullahi Adamu, James Ibori, Lucky Igbinedion, Olusegun Agagu, Obong Attah, Chiramoke Nnamani, Peter Odili and others. Though some cases were quashed from source in ‘gentlemanly’ agreements, even more serious cases will emerge when some serving or outgoing governors vacate offices after April’s governorships elections. It is no accident that the world’s best paid ‘legislooters’ are mostly ‘loyal party men’.

Of course, the PDP is not the only corrupt party in Nigeria, but its control of the federal government gives it access to unlimited resources. According to recent reports, the party has budgeted about N200 billion to ‘win’ the forthcoming elections. ‘Procure’ would have been more appropriate.

But the dubious membership and philosophy of the PDP aside, the release of Bode George and the live coverage of his celebration and thanksgiving provide many tips on how to loot public funds in Nigeria and live happily ever after.

First of all, you must be a member of the PDP or have contacts within it. You must have a list of the properties you covet and several foreign accounts. Once in office, flout every rule on due process. Any contract that is beyond your legal limit, break into two or three. Award them to your state governor, his wife and other senior party officials. Give some to your wife, her relatives and other hangers-on. Then throw the rest to your numerous girlfriends. But no matter what, make sizeable contributions to the party coffers and reserve a chunk to help ‘deliver’ your zone.

Another tip: when you want to steal, do not pinch a stray fowl, hungry goat, or tattered pair of shoes. Do not steal a bottle of palm oil or stale bread. That would land you in jail for 10 years or more without trial. Grab several billions from government or simply take the billions from a bank, then run it aground. With this, you are guaranteed a quick release, if charged at all. Or in the worst case, you’ll get a two-year jail sentence for ‘misappropriating’ N100 billion. Ask Bode George, or better still, find out how Cecelia Ibru got a six-month bed rest for ‘waltzing’ N191 billion. It was a well deserved bed rest, considering that milking that amount of money must have been very tiring.

An important tip: do not consider your age, even if you are in your 60s or 70s and all your children are grown up. It doesn’t matter if your entire clan will be unable to spend the loot in several lifetimes, or that the amount can create thousands of jobs. Just take it. You will need it to bribe the police, pay your lawyers, buy the judge, influence the appeal and determine the verdict.

In the event that something goes terribly awry a la Bode George, you will need the money to live like a king in prison. If the food is inedible, have the best food delivered from the best restaurants or prepared by the best chefs. If the prison generator is not working, or has no diesel, order a tanker of diesel every week. If the prison medical personnel are not adequate, have your personal physician on standby. You will also need the money to organize huge receptions and pay for live coverage when released.

Final tip: jump straight back into the political fray. Make sure that you are seated close to the president when he comes to campaign in your zone. Deliver your zone by all means possible, and a presidential pardon is guaranteed.

The Umbrella Men

2011-02-26T22:02:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

The umbrella men have come again. They have come with their rented crowds to roll out manifestos that promise everything but mean nothing. They are dancing to the percussion of promises on podiums of poverty and perfidy. And at each venue, the umbrella men will stand on platforms to proclaim promises that are premised on prodigal platitudes and profound pretexts.

The umbrella men have come to mock our fears and rub muck on our faces. Our silent wailing grants no respite as troops throng to the throne, prostituting posterity for a pittance. Today, the vaults of state have been vacuumed, bequeathing legacies of debt to souls yet unborn. For the umbrella men, prosperity is built on lies, fears and tears, but the melodies of the moment have crooned out the cravings of hunger and craters of hopelessness.

As we grimace from the embrace of the umbrella men, the mast of corruption is misted by the clouds of senseless spending. Greed is fanning the flames of sedition, but every sense of reason and every slice of wisdom have been procured by the ambitions of the umbrella men. The nation is being dragged along the festering sewers of crass ineptitude and primitive profligacy, but the umbrella men plan to storm through a million ballots to contrive victory; itself a mean medallion for many midnights murdered.

The umbrella men have come again to speak through their noses and sing without their hearts. We know they have no clue where to lead us, but ingrained identities have been bred to dance to the tunes of inbred rhythms. And so multitudes will cast their ballots for the umbrella men, though they share neither shade nor sanctuary from their sheer sectionalism. In this season, visionaries are draped with the toga of falsehood to hang them while the visionless are raised and praised to the genre of genius.

For the umbrella men, merit is a waste; cheating is the game. This is a season of revelry for those in the shades of the Clueless Couple who sell this country one bit at a time. They are dying to serve you, but will also kill you to serve you. They promise freedom, but it will come in chains; they pledge prosperity but it will be drenched in the cloaks of poverty; we pray for hope, but they prey on our fears.

Yet again, the umbrella men have come to ply us with new lies to quell old fears. For a dozen years, we irrigated the bud of hope for a better future, but what we see today is the demise of fast fading hopes and democracy that benefits the biggest thieves only. So we watch in terror, drenched in soundless screams as the umbrella men sing to the disharmony of democracy's meaningless dance steps.

For twelve years, we have remained hungry to sate the palates of the umbrella men; for twelve years, the umbrella men told us that democracy would put food on tables, but our hands cannot reach the tables anymore. We were promised balms to soothe our open wounds, but Jos, Maiduguri, Aba and the Delta fester afresh; we were promised homes with proper roofs, yet our children are born under the glare of naked flares.

The umbrella men spent countless billions for light inside our homes, but we have learnt to see in the darkest of nights; we drooled at the optimism that once promised so many dishes, but now know that redemption may only come when we are interred six feet deep. And in another four years, the umbrella men will come to trample on our graves.

In yesteryears, we only sang consolation songs: ‘only if there was no death; only if there was no ill health; only if they had gold in their breath; only if there was no end to the earth - only then would we envy vast wealth'. So we let the umbrella men walk with lightening and speak with thunder from yonder. But now as we ponder, all the pomp and pageantry are cast asunder. In the coming battle of ballots, there will be no more mounds left to conquer.

And as the scents of Tunis and Cairo saunter in, the boiling rage, the compressed cauldron of poverty and iniquity will explode in a frenzied dance of intrinsic humanity. North and South will march as one and long oppressed souls will fight free of the frozen embrace of stolen mandates. And sombre songs like this shall salute the demise of the umbrella men.

I want to be president

2011-02-19T23:20:00.001-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

I do not like the allure of power. I am not carried away by the limitless reach of the Nigerian presidency. My head does not swell when all the traditional rulers whose palaces I previously could not enter without removing my shoes stumble over themselves to pledge allegiance. So what, if former presidents scramble to their feet when I enter a room? It does not touch me in the least. And there is nothing special in presiding over the federal executive council meeting where we award contracts worth billions weekly.

It is not my fault that supposedly powerful governors tremble when I glare at them. That they all have to wait for me to arrive for meetings, and stand up to greet me as soon as I arrive does not make me haughty. The long list of diplomats, special envoys and CEOs of multinationals waiting to see me every day to curry favour in one form or another has not gone into my head, nor the fact that every news item begins with me and ends with madam. It is our time.

That every mouth rings out with raucous laughter when I tell dry jokes is only to be expected. I never had much sense of humour anyway. That some of the most powerful politicians in the land line themselves up before me everyday crooning my praises to high heavens is nothing exceptional. I know that what they really want is that juicy ministerial appointment; that powerful commission; that coveted ambassadorial posting or that much sought-after oil block.

Incidentally, that madam can massacre and butcher the English language at will and get away with it, does not trip me. Not even Her Majesty, the Queen can complain about the damage madam is doing to the syntax of her richly endowed language. When the dame unleashes another bout of terror on the English language, no one present dares wink. They all better keep a straight face, or else. After all, English is not our mother tongue. And she can dispense or withhold favours too.

That I wake up one day and direct that a N2 billion airport be constructed in my state does not bother me in the least. It does not matter if I am the only passenger that will use the airport. It is my time. Nor does it trouble me that without even asking for it, a federal university will be built in my hometown. How many villages have produced presidents before mine? At least, the graduates of the university will hopefully speak better English than the missus. I better not ask for trouble.

Oh yes, that by simply nodding, I can send the attack dogs nick-named EFCC, ICPC and CCB after practically anyone I choose does not make me smile secretly with perverse pleasure. That I know the secret bank accounts and supposedly hidden properties and estates of many of those pretending to be honest governors, ministers, legislators and judges does not give me any sadistic satisfaction.

It is amazing, the sheer ingenuity of politicians and civil servants in looting public funds. I have seen pictures of homes in Cape Town, Dubai, Sharjah, Abu Dhabi, London, on the Potomac, the French Riviera and other exotic locations. That I know the hidden girlfriends and mistresses of the holy men of all religions who come to pray for me gives me no delight. Those secret service boys can really work when well motivated. How they come about some of the raunchier photos, I can’t tell. If only their flock could see the real earthly lives of those leading them to God’s kingdom!

If not my fault that entire neighbourhoods and are cordoned off whenever I visit. It is not easy to be president. That I can with the stroke of a pen, approve the purchase of a brand new presidential jet is nothing new. That madam has another at her disposal is her right. That I have no knowledge of the intricacies of economics and the fundamentals of management is not an issue. Who dares say I have no clue about confronting insecurity, unemployment, decaying infrastructure, falling education and dwindling energy? These problems were there before me.

They keep asking what I have achieved; can’t they see that long lines at filling stations are gone? That I selected a deputy who is even denser than I am is my prerogative. Couldn’t even put together a decent campaign crowd in his state. No wonder some call him ‘Shambolic’. But that is not why I want to be president.

I want to be president because I am good luck.

Igbo President: when, if ever?

2011-02-12T22:06:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

With the purchasing power of the Presidency and the intimidating presence of the EFCC squarely behind him, the presidential election in April is President Jonathan’s to lose. He is not contesting the presidency based on any superior arguments or programs. His major claim to the number job in the land is that he is from the South-South. His challenger at the PDP primaries, Atiku Abubakar thought it was still the turn of the North. (Don’t ask me which, or whose North).

The PDP primaries was not based on who was better prepared to provide security, infrastructure development, agriculture, education, grow the economy and tackle corruption. Any sensible voting population would throw out the party and bury it in the dustbin of history. We all know that another four years of this government spells doom, yet there is an air of inevitability, an inexorable pull towards tragedy…unless we vote with our heads and not our hearts.

We all know that the time has come to elect credible leaders that can dig Nigeria out of corruption and incompetence. But in the existing political climate of Nigeria, regions, religions and mother-tongues remain central. That being the case, how come the leadership of the South East has maintained an ominous silence on the quest for an Igbo president?
I have written in several instances about the dearth of real leadership in the North. The point can also be made that both the East and West lack leaders with real depth. From the 1950s to his death in 1987, Obafemi Awolowo was the undisputed leader of the old Western region. His vision and passion for Nigeria were unmatched. I benefited from his free education policy and still have books provided free by the UPN government in Lagos. Reading Awo’s memoirs and contributions to national issues is testimony to the brilliant mind he had. It is regrettable that he has the unenviable title of the ‘best president Nigeria never had’.

Since Awolowo’s death, a few leaders from the South West have tried somewhat unconvincingly to fill his shoes. Bola Ige had the ideological nexus without the platform. Gani Fawahenmi never pretended to be a regional leader and was not much of a politician. Lateef Jakande, Abraham Adesanya, Segun Osoba and many others filled different parts of Awo’s shoes without quite going the mile. MKO Abiola had a philosophy of leadership but had his mandate stolen. And the stolen mandate was handed over to Olusegun Obasanjo who had no idea of what to do with it. If it was possible to rearrange destiny, I would have chosen Awolowo to be president for 8 years, Abiola should never had joined politics and Obasanjo should have died in prison!

So the South West now has to contend with the leadership of Bola Tinubu. To be sure, Tinubu fought the irascible Obasanjo to the bitter end and succeeded in wrestling the soul of the region from the former president. And to be fair to Tinubu, he understands the socio-political and economic dynamics of Nigeria and has excelled in the chaos. His political dexterity and ability to ferret out persons with capacity for leadership cannot be faulted. But he does not stand on the same pedestal as Awolowo. The imposition of candidates and growing dynastic tendencies in the Action Congress of Nigeria convey disturbing signals.

The South West may lack leaders with a national outlook, but at least the region has produced a president, forgettable as he was to both the region and the country. But what about the South East? I believe Igbos have admirable traits. If I had their zest in pursuing the most important thing in life – money (don’t quote me) from an early age, I probably would not be an aspiring writer eking out a living today. The first ‘chemist’ and provision store in my hometown in a remote part of Kano State were owned by Igbos, as were the first photographer and carpenter. The same zeal and determination has made them excel globally in trade, industry, business and finance.

However, my admiration for the Igbos is tepid on the political front. The history of Nigeria cannot be written without the contributions of Nnamdi Azikiwe (not today’s clueless imitation). He was on the forefront of the struggle for Independence and became governor-general and later president in the First Republic. In the Second Republic, Alex Ekwueme and Edwin Ezeoke were vice president and Speaker of the House of Representatives in the same government.

And then the plot fell apart

Under General Babangida, Ebitu Ukiwe was eased out unceremoniously as vice president. In 1999, the PDP’s zoning system reserved the Senate presidency for the South East. But instead of supporting the occupant of the position to consolidate and perhaps become a contender for the number one slot, Evans Enwerem, Chuba Okadigbo, Pius Anyim, Adolphus Nwabara and Ken Nnamani occupied the position with revolver-rapidity. The first two are dead and the last three are lost in the political wilderness. It was an anticlimax watching Nnamani ride with Babangida into the consensus imbroglio, with Atiku into heavy pulverization and by himself into political oblivion. No candidate from the South East zone with a realistic chance of winning is running for president this year.

When, if ever, will Nigeria see an Igbo president?

Pastors, Imams and Politicians

2011-01-28T02:22:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

No one can say with any measure of certainty how many Nigerians there are. The 2006 census says there are 140 million Nigerians, but the figures are seriously disputed. No government agency knows how many unfortunate infants have joined this land of tears and heartbreak in the last five years. All we know is that there are at least 150 million Nigerians. The figures may actually be as high as 180 million. Who cares?

Flowing from the above, no one in government at any level has the true picture of unemployment in Nigeria. Some figures indicate 20 to 30 million. Others say the figure may be as high as 50 million. In the same manner, we have no reliable figures for the number of civil servants, teachers, students, doctors and a multitude of other trades and professions. Recently, an audit discovered that thousands of policemen existed only on paper. We have no accurate information about the number of militants and almajirai, nor can we estimate the numbers and membership of militant and extremist groups that kill and maim at will.

And yet in an election year, when Nigerians have the opportunity to make the political process work for them, the electoral contest has been reduced to a plainly north/ south, Christian/ Muslim affair. After former vice president Abubakar Atiku’s massive loss to incumbent president Goodluck Jonathan, it became clear that the contest in the upcoming election would be a straight fight between President Jonathan and former head of state Muhammadu Buhari. At the PDP’s primary, the party used its peculiar form of ‘garrison’ democracy to predetermine the election results. So clearly ‘transparent’ was the process that Atiku, the party’s former chief strategist and master rigger could not as much as cry out. He simply closed down his campaign office.

That fight was within the PDP. But all parties would clearly need a different strategy to win the general elections: enter pastors, imams and politicians. At most places of worship, adherents have been told to register and vote. I have heard an imam telling people to register and vote. My friend has told me that his pastor has instructed church ushers to ask for members’ voter cards before allowing anyone in.

There is nothing wrong with religious leaders reminding people to participate in the electoral process and performing their civic responsibility. The danger is in the silent message: vote along religious lines.

Blessed with over two hundred ethnic groups, a form of strength has emerged from Nigeria’s ethnic multiplicity. But because there are two main religions in Nigeria, the lines of division are clearly defined. At a time when issues like security, job creation, education, agricultural development and industrial revival should be top of the campaign topics, pastors and imams are telling their adherents to register – so vehemently that the unspoken message is that they should vote according to religious beliefs.

If Nigerians fall for this godless manipulation of God’s name and vote along north/ south Christian/ Muslim lines, then we deserve whatever leadership emerges after the April elections. Nigerians should ask themselves: will voting a candidate of my religion tackle corruption, create jobs, reduce debt, provide security, develop infrastructure and evoke patriotism? Which of the candidates has the resolve to stand up to the rest of the world and restore pride to Nigerian citizenship? Remember that hunger, unemployment and loss of hope do not discriminate between religions and regions. Voters should decide on the biggest obstacle to Nigeria’s development and vote the candidate better placed to crack it.

A few posers: How many Christians benefited on the basis of their faith when Obasanjo was president for eight years? The same question can also be asked of how many Muslims made any gains purely on the basis of their faith during late President Yar’Adua’s useless interregnum? In both instances, as now, only a few people with access to the political actors (regardless of faith or region) use their positions to amass godless fortunes.

The circumstances are actually amusing, considering that some of those making these calls are among the worst ‘sinners’. Ours is a country where we begin meetings with prayers, then proceed to discuss how to steal public funds (or votes). Some of the religious leaders tasking their adherents to vote along religious lines understand very little about the essence of the religions they profess. I do not believe that Jesus or Muhammad would have asked their followers to elect corrupt, incompetent people who have no answers to hunger, insecurity, injustice, and unemployment just because they go to churches or mosques.

National Assembly as Retirement Home

2011-01-21T00:35:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman
It is no longer news that 84 of our 109 senators as well as 280 of 360 members of the House of Representatives failed to secure the re-election tickets of their parties to return to the hallowed (and hollow) chambers of the National Assembly. Ordinarily, the high turnover rate would be disturbing, especially in a system like ours where executive powers are usually exercised (and exerted) in absolute terms. Sadly, the outgoing members of the legislature will hardly be missed. What have they contributed to our democracy beyond the dubious reputation of being the highest paid legislators in the world?

A look at the legislature since the return of our pseudo democracy in 1999 can only lead to the conclusion that the National Assembly is a retirement home of former governors and a hibernation port for would-be governors. Among those leaving to contest governorships are Joel Ikenya, Garba Lado, Gbemi Saraki, Nicholas Ugbane and Mohammed Bello. Despite skewing the electoral time table to ensure that their primary elections are held first, majority of lawmakers still lost their re-election bids.

Some of the more prominent ‘distinguished' senators and ‘honourable' members have not done much to improve the image of the National Assembly. Senate President David Mark may have brought a measure of stability after the rapid turnover rate of Senate presidents under former President Olusegun Obasanjo, but beyond that what else? Ask the people of his constituency how he has impacted on their lives. Some may tell you that he built, or influenced the construction of an international golf course in the outskirts of his hometown. Don't ask me how many people play golf, or can afford a golf kit?

For a man who was governor and minister under military regimes, he is certainly among the major beneficiaries of democracy. That he is among the few that picked their party's ticket to return to the Senate speaks volumes of the character of our politics.

The 2007 elections boosted the Senate with several governors who had completed the constitutionally limited eight years. For them, the Senate is a retirement address. In a system where the legislature understands its functions of supervising and moderating the executive arms of government, the rich and varied experiences of these governors would have enriched our democratic experience and helped facilitate effective and efficient representation and legislation. What would be the highlights of Senator Saminu Turaki's (former Jigawa governor) service at the Senate beyond the comic relief he provided by weeping profusely in court (surrounded by two wives) while facing the EFCC's allegations that he stole N32 billion from his state?

Similarly, what is the contribution of Professor Jubril Aminu to the legislative process apart from sitting in the front row and putting up a permanently grumpy mien? As a former university professor, vice chancellor, minister and ambassador to the United States of America, one would have welcomed his presence at the Senate. However, his case is forgivable given that he is one of the more punctual and regular faces in the chambers.

Who has ever heard any contribution made by former governor of Enugu State, Chimaroke Nnamani? He has been in the Senate for nearly four years. What has former governor of Zamfara State Ahmed Sani Yerima contributed to the legislature beyond his marriage to the under-aged daughter of his Egyptian chauffeur? Senators Iyiola Omisore and Teslim Folarin at different times both faced allegations of murder.

Other former governors who made it to the Senate include George Akume; Adamu Aliero; Bukar Abba Ibrahim and Kabiru Gaya. A number of former military governors like Simeon Oduoye, Mohammed Mana and Joseph Akaagerger are also senators, but have contributed little to lawmaking. Unfortunately, even the younger members of the legislature have not lived up to expectations. Two examples suffice: Iyabo Obasanjo will be well remembered for her expertise in scaling high walls and holing up in the home of the Senate president for an entire month to avoid EFCC arrest. The Senate's youngest member Nazeef Suleiman Gamawa is better known for having changed parties four times in four years.

Unfortunately, the quality of representation and legislation in Nigeria is not likely to improve after April's elections; most of the candidates that have emerged further reiterate the view that the Senate is little more than a retirement home for former governors and other spent forces and a waiting port for aspiring governors. There is little time for proper legislation.

Which other retirement (or hibernation) home pays $1.7 million annually to inmates to simply sit in a hall and drink tea or strut around and feel important?

From colonial masters to economic colonies

2011-01-16T22:24:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

Now that the party primaries are over and winners and losers declared, it is time to move forward. True, that political hurricane will not settle anytime soon, even if the results did not come as a surprise. We focus today on on a different kind of breeze blowing across Europe and leaving once mighty powers in the throes of destitution. The aftermath has been a fundamental shift of power that has reduced former empires and colonial masters to new economic colonies.

Great Britain once ruled seventy percent of the world's oceans and dominated military, economic and political power across the world. It colonised America and large parts of Canada. It owned Australia, New Zealand and parts of China, including Hong Kong. The entire continent of Africa was a playground for British colonial masters and a source of slaves and commodities. Today's Zambia and Zimbabwe were essentially the property of one Englishman - Cecil Rhodes who naturally named them for himself. The entire Indian Subcontinent and South East Asia - Pakistan, Bangladesh, Myanmar, Thailand and the Malay Archipelago were British dominions.

That was then. Today, Nigerians own some of the most valuable and sought after properties in the UK. It is difficult not to smile at the sight of Britons working as chauffeurs, domestic assistants and chefs (drivers, house helps and cooks) for Nigerian families in the UK. It is hard not to applaud Indian and Chinese businesses buying British icons such as Jaguar Land Rover and MG to save them from bankruptcy. Africa used to be the abode of debt, but today, public sector debt today in the UK is over £800 billion.

Today, Arabs, Russians, Indians and other nationals own some of the major teams in English football. A decade ago, great sporting franchises like Manchester United, Manchester City, Chelsea and others represented the best of British sporting traditions. Of great import also in sports, is the way the stars of English and international cricket are being auctioned in the Indian Cricket League which is now the richest in the world.

The wind of change is not limited to Britain alone. Spain was once a global leader and it fleet dominated the seas and the known world. Spain colonised practically all of Central and South America. The devastation wreaked by its conquistador's left permanent damage on the populations of its colonies. Entire populations were wiped out through conscription to work in the gold and silver mines of central and South America. Hundreds of ships laden with gold, silver and other looted treasure sailed to Spain, making it the richest country in the world at one time. Today, Spain has an unemployment rate of about 20 percent and is begging China to buy Spanish government bonds - to enable it raise money.

Similarly, Portugal was a major naval and merchandising country with colonies all over the world. It once owned Brazil; a country that is several times its size. Today, a Portuguese youth with ambition is better headed for Brazil where he has better prospects than in Portugal itself. A great deal of choice property in Portugal today belongs to foreigners (including former colonial subjects from Brazil and Angola) who only use them for holidays, while many Portuguese live in poverty. The same thing can be said of Belgium's king Leopold II who once owned the entire Congo - several times the size of Belgium. The brutality of the king in exploiting this vast country is unsurpassed. Today, in addition to economic problems, Belgium itself is divided along ethnic lines with the Flemish and Walloons seemingly unable to live together. Tribalism is not an African invention.

In addition to Britain, Spain, Portugal and Belgium, other former colonial and economic powers like France, Italy and Netherlands are being supplanted by the economic miracles of China and India. Poverty and economic failure are no longer synonymous with Africa and Latin America. Today, there are many workers in Europe who do not earn what their Nigerian counterparts earn. The streets of Africa are no more dominated by British and French automobiles but by Toyotas, Nissans and increasingly, TATAs and Geelys. Global finance is shifting from London to Shanghai, Dubai and Mumbai. It is comical, watching government and business leaders of Europe kowtowing to minor visiting officials from China.

As we move ahead towards general elections, we must reflect on the fact that had we voted right and protected our votes over time, it would not have been inconceivable that representatives of Her Majesty, the Queen's government would be combing Lagos and Abuja, trying to convince Nigerian businesses and government to invest in British government bonds and to reschedule British debts to Nigeria....

Nigeria: In search of a Lula

2011-01-10T08:29:00.000-08:00

When Nigeria’s former military president Ibrahim Babangida was forced to ‘step aside’ in 1993 after eight years in office, he retired to his palatial hilltop mansion in Minna. He left office as one of the most unpopular personalities in the country. Similarly, when former president Olusegun Obasanjo left office after eight years in 2007, he retired to another hilltop palace in Abeokuta, also highly unpopular. By contrast, when Brazil’s former president Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva or “Lula” left office after eight years with approval ratings of 80 percent, he retired to a nondescript apartment.

At the time Babangida left office, the country was in serious political and economic turmoil after the longest political transition anywhere in the world. It is true that his administration initiated some positive reforms, but the toga of corruption that hung over his government left a shadow of doubt about the efficacy and sustainability of some of those reforms. Whatever vestige of a legacy he had left was eroded by his annulment of the June 12, 1993 presidential elections.

Similarly, credit (if grudgingly) must be given to some of the initiatives of the Obasanjo administration. However, the massive corruption that also characterized his administration and failure to improve infrastructure, particularly roads and power left serious credibility gaps. The major undoing of Obasanjo, as with Babangida, was his desire to hang on to power at all cost. And like Babangida before him, history will not judge them by what little they achieved, but by their failed bids to remain in power against popular sentiment and the damage they both inflicted on our democracy. At least, they both have their huge hilltop (if largely empty) mansions to console them.

Compare these two leaders to Brazil’s Lula and one can only reiterate what Chinua Achebe said: Nigeria’s problem is that of leadership. Before Lula became president, Brazil was known for its world-class footballers, beautiful beaches and as the biggest debtor nation in the world. Beneath these facts also lay the truth that the country had one of the widest economic apartheids in the world: less than five percent of the country’s elite owned or controlled over 95 percent of Brazil’s wealth.

Incidentally, Nigeria and Brazil share certain similarities. (Brazil and Nigeria were joined before being torn apart by primordial geologic forces). Brazil has the largest population in South America while Nigeria has the largest population in Africa; both estimated to hit 200 million soon. Both countries suffered military intervention in politics. Both countries also have cultural and ethnic diversities and with huge swathes of the population living in poverty. Then God gave Brazil Lula. Or put another way, they discarded primeval instincts and elected a patriot.

Lula created many highly successful anti-poverty programs, such as Bolsa Família (Family Allowance) and Fome Zero (Zero Hunger). Financial aid was given to more than 12 million poor Brazilian families on condition that their children attend school and get vaccinated. This has become the largest conditional cash transfer program in the world, and has reduced poverty in Brazil by more than 27%. Lula has transformed Brazil from one of the world’s largest foreign debtor nations to a net creditor.

Brazil is set to overtake France and the United Kingdom as the world’s fifth-largest economy as early as 2025. And with Rio de Janeiro having won the right to host the football World Cup in 2014 and the Olympics in 2016, more development will take place. With transparent leadership, Brazil is firing on all cylinders and is currently one of the fastest growing economies in the world. And that is just the beginning for a country that has vast tourism and industrial potential. The economy is not dependent on crude oil alone. Embraer (ERJ) is Brazilian company and is now the world’s third-largest manufacturer of passenger jets after Boeing and Airbus.

Once the most debt-ridden country in the world, Brazil’s fiscal budget is now in surplus- she is a net creditor. Brazil boasts large-trade surpluses and foreign reserves of about $300 billion. Brazil today is the world’s largest exporter of coffee, sugar, chicken, beef and orange juice. In recent years, the country has become the second-biggest destination for foreign direct investment into developing countries after China.

The message is simple: as the elections approach, we must elect the candidate that is closest to Lula in terms of honesty, patriotism and simplicity. Religion and ethnicity must not befuddle our thinking. One inspired leader can make all the difference.

Irrigation, job creation and food security

2010-12-28T01:25:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

A litre of petrol that has been refined from crude oil and transported across vast oceans sells for N65 in Nigeria. A litre of table water that can be bottled in virtually every backyard costs N100 or more. This symbolic comparison illustrates the value of fresh water, especially in irrigated agriculture, which is central to job creation and food security. So how come less than 10 percent of Nigeria's irrigable land is irrigated?

The availability of water varies tremendously but even with limited water supplies, irrigation can vastly increase agricultural productivity. Underused water resources in Nigeria offer great potential for irrigation, especially using simple and inexpensive methods, but over the years, our dependence on rainfall remains a major constraint on agriculture and poverty reduction. The vulnerability of our food security is significant because of the combination of highly variable and erratic precipitation and poor development of irrigation. Other constraints include poor management skills and markets, unfavourable land and water policies and poor access to credit by those who need it most.

Studies of small-scale irrigation schemes across Africa have shown that irrigation improved incomes, diets and health. For example, when women no longer had to fetch water from far away, they had time to start market gardens, thereby improving their incomes and diets. The potential for irrigation development in Nigeria is tremendous. The benefits extend beyond increased agricultural productivity; it gives women time to start market gardens, helps families reduce debt, increases school attendance, limits seasonal migration for work and improves cash earning ability to pay for health care and others.

Properly developed and managed, Nigeria has the potential to become a global food exporter given the low rate of irrigation on the African continent. Ten years ago, 42 percent of arable land in Asia was irrigated, 31 percent in the Near East and North Africa, 14 percent in Latin America and the Caribbean, and only 4 percent in sub-Saharan Africa, despite the fact that irrigation increases yields of most crops by 100 to 400 percent. Not much has changed, though increased irrigated agriculture is a key to reducing poverty. In many developing countries, irrigation triggered high economic growth, increased incomes and improved nutrition. Because irrigation raises yields, it is essential to increasing productivity. Farmers benefit from irrigation directly through increased and more stable incomes and the higher value of irrigated land. In addition, there is great potential for harvesting runoff water and for farming lowlands and valley bottoms that catch it naturally.

Since large dams have several negative impacts, including displacement of people, increasing erosion and flooding, loss of land, loss of income from downstream fisheries, the development of small, cost - efficient earth dams is now seen as a more sustainable means of managing water resources. Projections on possible changes in annual rainfall vary across Nigeria, but the country will experience the negative effects of increased temperature on yields, combined with a high vulnerability to extreme events.

The import is that all stakeholders must view irrigation development as a potential goldmine and design an irrigation master plan to:

(1) Create a sustainable strategy for irrigation development;

(2) Develop cost effective rain harvesting techniques for varied uses;

(3) Position Nigeria as Africa's leading organic crop production area;

(4) Create 500,000 direct employment and millions of indirect employment;

(5) Facilitate the emergence of agro-allied industries in the country;

(6) Encourage better management of soil moisture in rain fed areas;

(7) Enhance investment in water harvesting and storage.

Nigeria must develop small-scale community-based irrigation schemes; improve water access and control for semi-urban agriculture; evolve an environmentally sound system of water access for livestock in arid and semi-arid areas; better aligned irrigation and drainage institutions, and transfer of responsibilities for operation, maintenance and management of irrigation and drainage systems to organised local user groups.

We must also explore cost sharing for infrastructure improvement, accompanied with improved financial mechanisms for farmers; introduction, where appropriate, of systems of water rights and volumetric delivery for greater efficiency in water use; and re-designing irrigation systems that are not financially or environmentally viable.

We must recognise the value of irrigation in job creation, poverty eradication and food security. With irrigation, Nigeria will earn more foreign exchange from oil and other minerals combined. Millions of jobs would be created and food security enhanced. Environmental challenges would be mitigated, and our lethargic, short sighted dependence on crude oil would be cured. The massive corruption engendered by the oil economy would be busted, but more importantly, we will not have to import rice, milk, vegetable oil, sugar ... and bottled water.

Real encounters with Nigerian Police

2010-12-20T00:26:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

Isiaka is mild mannered and soft-spoken man. On his way to work one morning, he was flagged down by a policeman who asked for a ride. Without hesitation, he agreed and they set off. The policeman promptly fell asleep, having apparently been on night duty. At the destination, Isiaka woke him up. The policeman thanked him profusely and walked off.

The next morning, Isiaka’s son was washing the car when he saw a pistol under the front passenger seat and immediately alerted his father. Isiaka came to the conclusion that it must belong to the policeman who rode in the car the previous day, so he proceeded to the nearest police station to report the case.

At the station, Isiaka was arrested and charged with ‘armed robbery and possession of firearms’. The policeman he helped had reported that armed robbers had attacked him and stolen his weapon from him. Despite protests, it took Isiaka weeks and a lot of money to be released from cell and several months to clear his name.

Akin, Jimi and Daniel will never forget what happened to them in their final year at the university. They had attended a friend’s birthday party and decided to leave at about 11 pm. There were no taxis or ‘okadas’ at that late hour so they decided to walk the short distance home. Halfway, they were accosted by a police patrol and arrested for possession of marijuana. Despite protestations, they were taken a police station and pronto, the policemen tendered several wraps of marijuana as exhibits. The policemen had stuffed the drugs into their pockets. It took their families huge sums to bribe the DPO to release the students. Several years after the incident, the bitterness remains.

Alfa is a civil servant. Some years ago, he decided to travel out of town on Independence Day. Along the way, he came across a police checkpoint. The policemen asked for his particulars. Everything was intact except for his driver’s license, which he didn’t have on him. The policemen threatened to arrest and detain him unless he gave them money. Once he did, another policeman emerged from behind a tree and arrested Alfa for ‘bribing a police officer’. He marked the money as ‘exhibit’ and threatened to take him to arrest and charge him to court. Scared and disoriented, Alfa was easy prey. The policemen took virtually every kobo he had before letting him go. Till date, he doesn’t celebrate Independence Day.

Uche is a businessman who travels frequently by road. Not too long ago, the vehicle he was travelling in was involved in an accident. It somersaulted several times and came to rest in a ditch off the road. It took some time for help to arrive in form of policemen who were more interested in going through the pockets and possessions of the dead passengers. To Uche’s shock, any passenger that showed any sign of life was quickly finished off by the police. Though seriously injured, he had the quick thinking to pretend to be dead as the policemen removed his money, wristwatch and other valuable possessions. It was only at the hospital, after the police had departed that he groaned for help. Till date, he has been unable to forget the gruesome and cold blooded murder of the passengers, who survived the accident, only to fall into the hands of the Nigeria police supposedly on a rescue mission.

Musa is an engineer. Some years ago, a group of young men robbed him of his car at gunpoint. A few weeks later, the car was found abandoned and was recovered by the police. Eventually too, the armed robbers were traced and arrested. A few days later, Musa stopped by at the police station to sort out paperwork about recovering his car. Out of curiosity, he asked the policemen about the young armed robbers. ‘We don finish them’ came the casual reply. Musa found out later that the young men had been taken to a bush and asked to run, then shot dead for ‘attempting to escape police custody’.

The names have been changed, but the stories are real. Every day, many Nigerians are subjected to terrifying encounters with the police. Motorists have been shot for refusing to pay N20 bribes; thousands have been arrested and detained for no reason; female detainees have been subjected to rape; many have been robbed outright by the police, or framed for crimes they did not commit...

The stories cannot be completely told on this blog.

Zoning: Lesson from Cote d’Ivoire

2010-12-12T23:27:00.000-08:00

Laurent Gbagbo, Cote d’Ivoire’s president for the past 10 years, should know better. He is a professor of history. When his predecessor in office Robert Guei rigged elections and attempted to prolong his stay in office, he ended up dead – shot, like a dog, on the streets of Abidjan.

Propelled by inordinate ambition, Gbagbo has chosen to forget that lesson. But it is not what happens to him that matters. The tragedy is that he has allowed his ambition to destroy the fragile peace that was beginning to emerge in Cote d’Ivoire.

The crisis in Cote d’Ivoire and possible return to armed conflict has useful lessons for Nigeria. The two countries have some similarities; both are multi-ethnic and multi-religious. Muslims, who make up about 38 percent of Cote d’Ivoire, are mostly from the north while Christians, who make up about 32 percent of the population, are mostly found in the south. Eleven percent of the population practice African religions while about 9 percent are free-thinkers.

Until the death of the country’s founding President, Félix Houphouët Boigny, Cote d’Ivoire was one of the most stable and prosperous African states and had one of the largest expatriate populations of any African country. This was to change when Boigny died. The then Prime Minister Alassane Ouattara could not become president, so the then Parliamentary Speaker Henri Konan Bedie succeeded Boigny. Bedie then masterminded constitutional amendments, which excluded large sections of the population from participating in the electoral process. Many were denied citizenship.

The political instability that followed led to the first ever military coup in Cote d’Ivoire, and eventually a brief civil war. A peace accord was eventually signed, paving the way for a new constitution and a more inclusive political and electoral process.

Laurent Gbagbo, who swore himself in as president last week despite losing the election, had postponed elections several times and managed to hang on to power for 10 years, using a mixture of guile and delay tactics. Having waited since 1994 to actualise his ambition, Mr. Alassane Ouattara, the acknowledged winner of the elections, also swore himself in as president. So we are confronted with a country with two presidents. The situation is very volatile, especially as the former rebels from the north still have control of their arms and virtually control half of the country.

So what are the lessons for Nigeria and the rest of Africa?

The most important message must be that there are no perfect democracies anywhere in the world. Even Western democracy, particularly the American presidential model, which is very often our reference point, has significant drawbacks. A critical factor in the democratic experience is the inclusion of as many citizens as possible in the electoral process. If, in the process, certain compromises like zoning or rotation of offices have to come in, it may be worth paying that price in the interest of peace and stability.

I am not an advocate of zoning, but If Ivoiriens had zoned the presidency to one region, the sharp ethnic and religious connotations in the aftermath of the elections would be less obvious. The contest between Olusegun Obasanjo and Olu Falae in 1999 is a case study. The same thing happened in 2007 when late president Umaru Musa Yar’Adua contested against Buhari and Atiku.

In the run up to next year’s presidential elections in Nigeria, the debate has assumed the discordant tunes of north/ south with a dangerous religious overcast. Every debate has been reduced to what the mother tongue of the president should be. At the moment, the undeclared battle between President Jonathan and former Vice President Atiku’s camps is degenerating to new lows. No prisoners are being taken. Every voice of reason is branded as being either ‘for us or against us’.

Today, every newspaper article or opinion piece is viewed as having been paid for by one camp or another. Responses by readers of articles published in various media are rabidly sectional. All voices of reason have been drowned by the north/ south divide. Few people have bothered to enquire about what the candidates have to offer. The overriding concern is: if he is from my zone, he should president (regardless of antecedents) and if he is from another zone, he cannot be president (regardless of merit).

Of course the concept of zoning only came about because of the ineptitude of successive governments and leaderships in Nigeria. But the lesson from Cote d’Ivoire must be clear: the personal ambitions of politicians should not accentuate ethnic and regional divisions in Nigeria’s political square.

Before Lake Chad Disappears

2010-12-06T23:18:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman
In March 1994, Nigeria hosted the Heads of State and Inter-Ministerial Summit of the Lake Chad Basin Commission, LCBC. Five heads of state attended what was intended to sensitise the concerned governments to the need for concerted effort to save the lake. The Central African Republic was admitted as a fifth member of the commission, which had Nigeria, Chad, Niger and Cameroun as founding members.

At that summit tagged ‘Save Lake Chad’, delegates were informed that the lake had an area of about 25,000 square kilometres in 1964. By 1994, it had dwindled to only about 2,500 square kilometres and was still receding. The Commission sought strategies to implement former and current resolutions to save the lake from extinction.

A few weeks ago, President Goodluck Jonathan, while ending his tenure as the chairman of the LCBC said there was a need for far-reaching decisions to look at related issues of environmental change globally, especially as it affects Africa. He repeated known facts and concluded: “If nothing is done in another 15 years, it will go into extinction....” He forgot to add that between the 1994 and 2010 summits, the lake shrank by an estimated 500 square kilometres.

Lake Chad is the largest body of water in West Africa and about 22 million people live within its basin, 15 million of whom are Nigerians. It is crucial to farmers, fishermen and herdsmen and is an essential component of our ecological balance. The countries sharing the lake convened in 1964 to establish the LCBC to forge and maintain cooperation in the use of the lake and to enhance development of the bordering regions.

However, for decades, little substantial progress was made beyond the signing of agreements and occasional meetings. No master plan for the conservation of the lake was developed or implemented. No consideration was made to check possible obstruction of the rivers feeding the lake, since it does not generate its own water.

Today’s dying lake is a product of over-exploitation and desert encroachment. There is no control over fishing and grazing. The lake has waterweeds, which further reduce water volume. The lake shoreline is retreating, leaving behind clay beds that solidify into wasteland, eliminating plant and marine life in its wake.

But as back as the 1970’s and 80’s, it was obvious that neglect would have disastrous consequences for the lake and people living within its basin. The fish catch dropped from 140,000 tons to less than 70,000 tons between the 1960’s and 1980’s. Within 20 years, the lake’s productivity declined by 50% percent. The drought of the early 1970’s further complicated matters, as did the one of 1980’s, which culminated in the loss of about 80 percent of the cattle in the Republics of Chad and Niger.

Drastic effort cannot be delayed any longer; the lives and livelihoods of over 20 million people living in the conventional basin are at stake. A unique identity in terms of social and cultural life, and indeed, a whole way of life is vanishing. The South Chad Irrigation project owned by Nigeria and capable of irrigating 67,000 hectares is threatened. Apart from the drop in fish catch, certain species, which constituted 80 percent of the 140,000 tons of fish caught in 1960’s, are now rare due to the introduction of nylon nets and consequent intensity in fishing activity.

Efforts must be made to tackle drought, deforestation, over-grading, soil erosion and land degradation because they lead to loss of bio-diversity and agriculture. Also, the abundant plant resources in the area have been badly decimated due to their use for building and as cooking fuel. The array of wild animals once very common in the area, including oryx, gazelles, elephants, rhinoceroses and hippopotami have all but disappeared. This situation has been attributed to commercial poaching, lack of wild life protection policies and man-made and natural causes.

The Ubangi - Shari water transfer project must be implemented immediately. Less severe fishing methods must be applied, or at least, prolonged periods designated for non-fishing activity need to be introduced so that exhausted fish stocks can be replaced. All stakeholders must join this effort to halt the recession of the lake and mitigate related threats to the environment.

If urgent and concerted action is not taken, Lake Chad may soon become a memory, and with time, a myth.

Who Speaks for the Unemployed?

2010-11-26T22:33:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

According to some reports, close to 80, 000 people stormed the National Stadium for the event. They were not there to watch the opening ceremony of the Olympic, or the All Africa Games. They were not there to watch the Super Eagles play a visiting team. They were not there for any Evangelical Crusade, and neither did Muslims decide to observe the Eid prayers at the stadium. They were there to write examinations to be shortlisted for employment by the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency, NDLEA.

The 80,000 candidates were just at the Lagos centre alone. All over Nigeria’s major cities, similar scenes played out that day. In all, over half a million candidates applied for the few thousand job openings at the NDLEA. (The agency itself reportedly netted N750 million from the N1, 500 fees charged each applicant).

Scenes like these are by no means unusual. Reports also indicate that millions of people applied for a few thousand job openings at the Independent National Electoral Commission, INEC; the Federal Road Safety Corps; Nigeria Immigration Service and others.

Nobody has the exact numbers of unemployed people in Nigeria. Last year, government accepted World Bank estimates that nearly 30 percent of Nigeria’s workforce is unemployed. Other observers believe the figures are higher. A recent study warns that Nigeria would have to create 24 million jobs in the next 10 years just to halve unemployment. Whatever the actual figures may be, unemployment is a major challenge confronting Nigeria.

While these scary statistics stare at us, government recently announced that the Niger Delta Coastal Road project would be constructed at the sum of N 1 trillion. Typically, there was no indication of the number of jobs the project would create. Yet, properly planned and executed, a project of this magnitude can create millions of direct and indirect jobs of all kinds in addition to more obvious benefits.

This single example is symptomatic of government approach to the challenge of job creation. Projects and programs are embarked upon without indicating the specific number of jobs the project would create. How many jobs have been created in the real sector as a by-product of huge government spending? What strategies have been put in place to help mitigate the effects of unemployment in Nigeria? Do the unemployed have hope? Do we even have a current database of unemployed Nigerians?

Government must view unemployment in Nigeria from a national security perspective. Nigerians are generally hardworking and creative. If you follow a street hawker darting in and out of heavy traffic for a whole day in the hot sun, (often burdened with goods they are hawking), you will understand. But when people who are able and willing to work so hard just to get by find themselves unable to earn a living, then we are asking for trouble.

While not justifying the spate of armed robberies and kidnappings of recent, they are no doubt linked to unemployment. When university graduates, retired (and even serving) members of the security forces are forced into a life of crime, the level of sophistication and complexity is often beyond the capacity of the police and civil defense corps to handle.

So what is to be done?

There must be a census of unemployed people in Nigeria. From the exercise, a constantly updated base of unemployed Nigerians should be developed to introduce a basic ‘unemployment’ allowance. If all our ‘dishonorable honorables’ at the National Assembly can emerge as billionaires after each four-year term, then the treasury can find funds for this payment, which stops as soon as a person gets a job.

Responsibility for this payment should be shared among the federal, state and local governments. Compared to the billions spent every year on security (and much more looted), it is not asking for too much for government to give a token sum to every unemployed Nigerian. That way, a lot of petty theft and crime would be reduced and millions of lives would be touched. There would also be a positive impact on the economy, as most of the money would go directly to purchase goods and services.

The public sector cannot employ everyone in the country even if it had the resources. The private sector must be enabled to create employment and stimulate economic growth. Policies (and spending) at all levels must aim to stimulate the real sector, especially small and medium scale enterprises. Agriculture and industry are critical.

The warning lights are on: politics may dominate national discourse today, but the effects of unmitigated unemployment will destroy the polity.

Obasanjo's unending war with Nigeria

2010-11-20T00:30:00.000-08:00

Salisu Suleiman

It is easy to miss, but along the Abuja airport road is a signboard "Olusegun Obasanjo Space Centre". If it is intended as a joke, it has been an unqualified success. It makes people laugh. But even if no jest is intended by the sign, you can't help but laugh.

If the centre was named in honour of former president Olusegun Obasanjo, the same way the Kennedy Space Centre in Florida was named for President John Kennedy, then a monumental error of judgment has occurred. Kennedy is one of the most loved figures in US history; Obasanjo is one of the most reviled personalities in Nigeria. It would be coarse to join the on-going debate about Obasanjo's real paternity on these pages.

But the fact that a simple village bully would make his way to become the most prominent name in Nigeria's post independence history speaks volumes of how far fate has ferried him. Obasanjo, more than any other leader in our history, had the chance to be the ‘father of modern Nigeria'. He received the Biafran surrender in 1970 and nine years later, became first military leader in Africa to hand over power to an elected government. He is the only Nigerian to be military head of state and civilian president. But Obasanjo chose to let us down. He squandered the goodwill and hope we invested in him on the altar of greed and ambition.

In one hundred years from now, what will Obasanjo be remembered for, and what will be his legacy? Obasanjo practically destroyed whatever vestiges of democratic pretensions we had left in Nigeria with the way he rode roughshod over the politics and economy of the country during his eight years as president - a time that coincided with dizzying billions from record oil revenues. Inebriated with his sense of self importance, Obasanjo thought Nigeria was his personal fiefdom.

No one can accurately state the hundreds of billions wasted to actualize what was in effect a life presidency bid. Obasanjo, the ‘anti-corruption' champion wasted billions attempting to bribe his way to a life presidency but was thwarted by the peoples' will. Obasanjo has since embarked on a campaign of retribution on Nigeria. How else can one explain the candidate he pushed down our throats in 2007? If he truly believed in Nigeria, he would have chosen any member of his Economic Team - Nasir el-Rufai; Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Oby Ezekwesili; Nuhu Ribadu to succeed him, or simply let Nigerians pick a leader of their choice.

But blind with rage, he went to the provincial backwaters of Katsina to fish out Umaru Musa Yar'Adua and imposed him, thanks to the most rigged election in the history of democracy. If Obasanjo wasn't exacting revenge on Nigeria, explain his privatization of our national treasures to a close circle of friends. Recall how he promptly took 200 million shares of Transcorp in ‘blind trust'. Blind, indeed. What would he be remembered for? Would it be for the $16 billion that developed wings in the name of power generation? Or the roads for which over N500bn disappeared? Would it be for the over N700 billion drowned to provide water?

Except Obasanjo was fighting Nigeria, which other leader in history has signed away parts of his country and countrymen to please the ‘international community'? But that is exactly what Obasanjo did by giving away the land and people of Bakassi to Cameroun. The Nigerians who lost their ancestral lands will rue the day Obasanjo became president. Today, they are practically stateless; rejected by Nigeria and unwelcome in Cameroun. Even Abacha protected Bakassi with gallantry and patriotism.

If, as Chinua Achebe said, Nigeria's problem is that of leadership, then Obasanjo, having ruled for nearly 12 of Nigeria's 50 years after independence is a quarter of our problems. But Obasanjo has done even worse damage since leaving office: As the major beneficiary of the zoning system, he, more than any Nigeria should realise that it is an issue of expediency designed to give every part of Nigeria a sense of belonging. It is not about a 'perfect democracy'. But Obasanjo has consistently fanned the embers of ethnicity and religion by his utterances and by nudging president Jonathan to disregard the arrangement.

Obasanjo's support for Jonathan is certainly not out of love for ‘Niger Deltans'. After all, he ordered the destruction of Odi and sent troops to fight what was in essence, a quest for social justice. Obasanjo's greatest fear is that a strong president will probe him. And he knows he may end up at his old cell at the Yola Prisons.

Hell hath no fury like an old soldier with a thwarted ambition...

The Fear of Retirement….

2010-11-01T04:52:00.001-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

Recently, international news media have been dominated by the violent strikes by French workers and students protesting the country's pension reforms. The major highlight of the reforms proposed by French President Nicholas Sarkozy, and later approved by the country's Senate is the increase of the official retirement age from 60 to 62.

In Nigeria, civil servants and other workers would probably be dumfounded that people would go on strike to retire early. At the moment, the official retirement age in the public sector is 60 years or 35 years in service, but the sector is full of people that cannot produce their original birth certificates. They use sworn affidavits to claim fake ages. And because of our poor record keeping culture, it is easy for people to declare false ages to remain in service practically until they drop dead from old age.

What is so interesting in work that people lie and cheat about their ages to enable them stay on for as long as possible? It certainly cannot be because they love Nigeria so much and want to serve the country with their last breaths. And it is definitely not because we lack skilled replacements. So what explains this undying desire to die toiling?

Incidentally, now that even the most powerful economies in the world are opting to increase the retirement ages for workers, new regulations in Nigeria are forcing people to retire early. In the public sector, whether you are 60 or not, you only need to have been a director for eight years to be compulsorily retired, even if you are only 50 or less. The private sector is not left out, as some bank CEOs recently found out when they were forced by new CBN rules to retire, some of them only in their forties.

So why it is that Nigerian workers are not taking this unique opportunity to retire early and earn a pension for life? Perhaps a geological breakdown of the life cycle of the Nigerian worker will explain this desire never to retire, even after passing the mandatory retirement age of 60 years or 35 years in service. These people may have nothing new to offer, but will do all they can to remain in service at all costs.

Upon joining the public service usually before the age of 30, the worker is full of fresh ideas and is on a mission to change the world. The future is his. He is full of good plans for Nigeria and anxious to begin. However, as soon as he concludes documentation, a different reality confronts him.

At work, he has no desk, no job schedule and nothing to do. Nobody cares whether he comes to office or not. His entire take home pay is just enough to keep him alive. He cannot afford to rent even a single room and has to squat with friends. His first promotion, despite no failing on his part, comes after six to 10 years.

The next phase is the age 31 - 40 bracket. He still entertains vague hopes of better days, but those hopes are dimming by the day. He is coming to terms with the system and has no more illusions of changing the world. After a decade or more, he has only just received his second promotion.

Before long, he finds himself in the 41 - 50 years bracket. He is approaching management level, but still lagging behind by many years in promotion. Then the 51 -60 age creeps in. After years of slow promotions, he finally has the contacts to pull a string or two. In all likelihood, he has reached the directorate cadre. The more politically savvy get appointed permanent secretaries. But those who have not corruptly enriched themselves are full of apprehension as retirement approaches.

One day he wakes up, tired, frightened and sixty. Instead of looking forward to life in retirement, he is thoroughly scared and ill prepared. Used to a monthly salary circle, the first few months without one is a death sentence. Every month that passes takes him closer to his grave.

By now, his eyes are gone and his health failing. His pension and retirement benefits will not be paid until a week after his death. And when he dies, old, tired, lonely and miserable, he is buried and quickly forgotten. It is any wonder, then that people cut off as much as 10 years from their real ages to fight off early death, I mean, retirement?

The seasonal visitors have come again

2010-10-23T07:33:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

The seasonal visitors have come again and everywhere is the reverberation of war drums and hired guns as each camp rolls out manifestos that promise everything and nothing. They have come with strife, sweat and shivers. They have come with blood, murder and tears. At the end of the visit, the most deceitful visitor will stand on mounds of innocent skulls to proclaim power that is premised on pretexts, lies and deeper fears.

In this period submerged in subterfuge, our silent tears provide no refuge as troops throng to the throne, prostituting posterity for a pittance. The vaults of state will cave in, crashing atop the mass graves of guiltless souls. This, a portent of eternal truth that anything built on lies, fears and tears will not birth the dawn of promise. But merry - making fools yet make for the mounds.

As we grimace from the embrace of our seasonal visitors, the mast of decency is misted by the vapour of effluence; the affluent weave their ways with words that befuddle night with noon. The falsehoods will fan the flames of frayed fringes, but the pride of ancestral labour will be reined in by the wages of the seasonal visitors. Cherished values will drag along the festering gutters of moral penury as the visitors storm through a million ballots for a piece of parchment; itself a mean medallion for many millions’ midnights murdered.

Our seasonal guests will speak through their noses and sing without opening their mouths. Souls will grow cold at the sight of childhood friends but, imbibed identities will never dance to the tunes of inbred rhythms. Soon, the boiling rage fired in the compressed cauldron of poverty will explode to the frenzied dance of intrinsic humanity. And oppressed souls will fight free of the cold embrace of stolen mandates.

In this season, truth means nothing; our seasonal visitors lie with sacred texts for anything to get more feathers that leave them still craving, sharing no shade and no shame from their stilted, tilted stations. It is a time when dirges herald rites of christening and pyres precede honesty. Our seasonal visitors are groomed to loot - overloading private vaults and breaching the seams of steel pockets.

For our seasonal visitors, merit is wasting; cheating is most paying. It’s a season of revelry for those in the shades of the Great Awning who sell this country one bit at a time. Their sweet words promised freedom, but gave chains; they pledged progress, but delivered dark ages. They came with the scent of bread, but fed fat on our hungers; while we prayed for hope, they grew on our fears and when we dared to cry, crumbs were crammed down our canals.

Yet again, our seasonal visitors have come to ply us with new lies to quell old fears. For long, we irrigated the bud of hope for the flower of our futures, but what we glimpse is the demise of fast fading hopes of a democracy that puts golden chains between our leaders and us. So we watch their possessed dance, drenched in soundless tears as our visitors mock us with democracy’s meaningless dance steps.

For how long must hosts remain hungry to feed ungrateful guests? Our visitors told us that democracy would put food on tables, but our hands cannot reach the tables anymore. We were promised balms to soothe our open wounds, but they still fester to this day; we were promised homes with proper roofs, yet our children are born under the glare of naked flares.

The seasonal visitors promised light inside our homes and clothes on our backs, but we have learnt to see in the dark and wrap with bare rags. We drooled at the optimism that once promised so many dishes, only to realise that redemption may only come in our graves. Once sated, it will be four years before the visitors come again.

But the new braves among us are singing fresh songs: ‘only if there was no death; only if there was no ill health; only if they had gold in their breath; only if there was no end to the earth - only then would we envy vast wealth....’

So in this season of duplicity, our seasonal visitors may walk with lightening and speak with thunder, but in time, all we will go yonder. When we ponder, all the pride and vanity will be asunder. There will be no more mounds left to conquer.

And sombre songs like this will salute their slaughter.

WHO WILL BEAR THIS BURDEN?

2010-10-15T12:28:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

I was a land of tall trees and vast veldts, of raging rivers and soaking springs, of proud women and courageous men. I was the bastion that bared my back to bear the baton of my race in the race of sovereignties. But once on my back, the baton became a burden. Who will bear the burden?

From a lighthouse of hope, I am now a landscape of iniquity. My people, all 150 million, bear burdens that have left them bent and beggarly, bereft of hope, bogged by visions they bought-in and believed in. That burden is the greatest burden in the world. It is the burden of leadership. Where are the ones to bear this burden?

My back is bent, my head bowed and my feet bandied, but the burden only gets bulkier with each passing era. The burden I bear has no vision; no direction; it cannot see my misery; it cannot hear my cry; it cannot feel my pain and it cannot sense my anger. I fear that I may not carry on much longer; it may be my heartrending legacy. Who will bear this burden?

In this land of heart-wrenching pains, people carry in their heads visions of unfulfilled dreams and the weight of a thousand broken promises. But even in this depths of despair, they can sight no site to sigh in silence. Not with a million contraptions churning out the cacophonic clatter and the cocktail of death inducing fumes generators.

I bear the heaviest burden on God's earth, but cannot cry out for He has given me more than a fair share of what is needed to transform my destiny. I have rich land and plenty of water, but I am fed by countries that have none of that; most of my people are farmers, but cannot use a tenth of my land; I have the largest government Africa, but the worst governance in the world; I have trained a million doctors, but none work in my hospitals; I have professors in every field, but they train the children of other lands.

Who will help me bear the burden of roads that cannot be driven on; water that is laced with disease; rivers that are glazed with waste; a mighty desert on a southward march; millions of people with no work to do; elected officials that rob us, rub our faces in the muck then mock us. Who will bear the burden of a billion dollars brokered and bound for distant lands?

Today, no one can say with certainty where we are headed. So government is run by a banal cabal who only pledge the perpetual pillaging of public property for private purpose. Dear God, who will help us bear this burden?

A million of my people die each year for want of basic healthcare. My schools every year churn and turn out a million illiterates. My myriads of black robes and white wigs know nothing about law, and even less about justice. My leaders cut out huge chunks of my ancestral lands to impress the white man, then plunder my possessions to place in distant vaults. Who will bear the burden of the man who gives meat to the hyena for safe-keeping?

Who will tell the burdens on our heads that all we want is opportunity for honest work to feed our families and train our children, markets for our farm produce, hospitals when ill, roads on which to travel and security of life and property? But even these basics are too much to expect. We get none of these, just the constant weight of a back-breaking burden that is Nigeria's tragedy of leadership. Who will help us bear this burden?

After these long decades, our backs are broken, our dreams stolen, our resolve molten. Where are those to relieve us of this burden? Who will tell my people that dying in silence would be a greater betrayal of this once proud land? Where are those to bear the burden of true liberation?

Where are the men of courage to declare that the time has come be rid of the monstrous burden of a despotic, directionless and diabolic leadership? Where are the braves to confront the tragedy of tyranny that has been our lot and restore this land to its ultimate destiny?

When will we have the chance to elect leaders of our choice?

When Babangida becomes President

2010-09-20T04:36:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

Nigerians are such ungrateful people. It is only here that the presidential ambition of former military president, Ibrahim Babangida, would be opposed; elsewhere, in recognition of his contribution to national development, Babangida would not only get the PDP ticket uncontested, but go on to win the presidential polls with the biggest landslide in electoral history. Even Saddam Hussein’s regular 99 percent of all votes cast would be child’s play in comparison.

Have we forgotten so soon how this former general, at great personal risk overthrew the uncompromising administration of Buhari/ Idiagbon and freed Nigeria from a government that was using a whopping 42 percent of national income to pay off foreign debts when Nigerians had to queue for essential commodities?

Our politicians are particularly unappreciative. Why should any politician have second thoughts about working for the man who freed Second Republic politicians from the draconian prison sentences handed them by the Buhari regime? Have they forgotten that Babangida not only freed them from prison, but also returned the billions they allegedly stole from Nigerians?

It is only an ungrateful people that would forget the eight glorious years Babangida gave Nigeria. This man decided that our currency, the naira had no business being more valuable than the almighty American dollar and promptly devalued it with his second tier foreign exchange market. That was only in 1986, the same year he dissolved Nigeria’s Commodity Boards and left farmers of cash crops to the mercy of ‘market forces’.

Have we forgotten so soon that for the first time in our history, a leader actually engaged the citizenry in debate on whether to collect dubious loans from the International Monetary Fund? We all gave a resounding NO, but Babangida could see what we couldn’t. So he went ahead and took the loan, along with the bitter pill of a Structural Adjustment Programme. The structure of Nigeria has never been the same.

It is truly strange that a man who did so much for the country would face the possibility of being rubbished by the same people he worked so hard to serve.

It is unfortunate that Babangida is not picking an automatic ticket to the presidency as a birthright. This man committed billions of naira to the longest political transition programme anywhere in the world. The record still stands.

At the end of the transition, he again saw what 14 million Nigerian voters could not see and promptly annulled the election. He did it in the national interest, but we still refuse to see the great service he did us.

Babangida has always had the interest of Nigeria at heart, in or out of office.

Seeing that the country was teetering on the brink of disintegration, he promptly imposed Obasanjo as president in 1999. Evidently, we are yet to fully recover from the damage to our collective psyche inflicted by Obasanjo’s eight years, otherwise, we would all be jostling to usher in the Prince of the Niger for another eight golden years.

Babangida knows more than all Nigerians combined; that is why we must take him seriously when he says he will not only win the PDP primaries, but also trounce Buhari and other pretenders to the throne. Sadly, this time around, he will not give us another eight precious years of his life. He has told us to be content with only four as he will be in his mid seventies by the time he completes his four years. But the four years will be magical and will transform Nigeria beyond belief.

When Babangida becomes president, he will re-appoint the indefatigable Michael Aondoakaa Minister of Justice and Attorney General. That charlatan Jonathan should never have sacked him. As president, Babangida will embark on national reconciliation beginning with the immediate rehabilitation of James Ibori. All charges would be dropped. All assets seized from Tafa Balogun, Diepreye Alamieyeseigha and others would be returned. All pending cases against politicians and bankers would be dropped in the spirit of reconciliation.

Again, for transparency and accountability, President Babangida will order a probe of Obasanjo’s eight wasted years, Yar’Adua’s useless interregnum and Jonathan’s costly ‘no zoning’ jamborees. All the trillions missing from the NNPC, the Federation Account, LNG, and ‘excess’ crude account will be traced and returned to the country. He will arrest Professor Jega and lock him up as he did before.

The EFCC and the ICPC, those needless irritants would be scrapped. That troublemaker at the CBN Sanusi would be dismissed. He will transform Nigeria to a Land of Milk and Honey and we will live happily ever after.

When Babangida becomes president...

Living from a tray

2010-09-13T01:31:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

Auwal is 27, and sells kola nuts. His heels have worn through his flip-flops. There is no accurate way of measuring the distances he walks everyday peddling kola nuts, but 10 kilometres is not a bad guess. He has a wife and children back home, as well as aged parents he has to assist from time to time. The combined value of his tray and the kola nuts he sells is about N2, 000. He lives from his tray.

Musa mai tabur has a small table at the gate of the uncompleted building where he has lived for a number of years. He is not sure of his age, only that he is over 30 because he was born when General Obasanjo was head of state. He does not have to trek long distances to sell his wares. On his table are sweets, detergents, pure water, cigarettes, mosquito coils and a variety of other things. He travels back home once in a while to see his family. His entire stock is worth about N5,000. He lives from his table.

Danjuma is a teenager. He shows absolutely no fear as he darts in and out of traffic, selling chewing gum to motorists along the highway. He is not sure of his age, and frankly cannot be bothered. Whether he gets to eat something each day depends on how much chewing gum he is able to sell. He has no table, no tray and no wares of his own. He only gets a commission on whatever he is able to sell each day. He has no dependants yet, just fighting the brutal battle to survive by selling chewing gum, come rain, come shine. He lives from meal to meal.

Ibro sells Gala. His favourite spot is just before the traffic lights where vehicles stop for a minute or two. His best customers are the harried and hungry passengers in taxis and buses who buy Gala and canned drinks for a meal on the go. Ibro is ever on the lookout for municipal authorities that may arrest him and seize his carton of Gala and drinks. He has been arrested many times before and his goods ‘forfeited’ to government. But he comes back to the same spot as soon as he can raise enough capital to stock up. The total value of his wares is about N4, 000. He is married with a child and sends money to his siblings whenever he can. He lives from his carton.

Buba knows every corner of the city. On his bicycle selling ice cream and bottled water, he pedals as far as he can and only gives up when he is overcome by sheer exhaustion. The bicycle does not belong to him, nor the ice cream and bottled water. His is just to sell for a commission at the end of the day. On good days, he earns between N600 to N700. But on very wet days, he earns just enough for a meal to make up for the tens of kilometres he pedals daily, rain or shine. He came to the city because there was nothing to inherit from his family’s farm. Now he sends money back home to his wife and children. He lives from his icebox.

Danbala is not yet 10. His father is a security man, while his mother sells tuwo at whatever construction site she can find. Along with his father, mother, two stepmothers and other siblings, they live in the one room gatehouse of the house where his father works as security man. For Danbala, school is out of the question. He collects boxes of matches from Musa mai tebur for sale to motorists and pedestrians. There is no pay and no commission. He takes whatever Musa offers, grateful for a morsel or two from Musa’s tuwo. His entire being is programmed to fighting the ever present pangs of hunger to which he was born and from which there is no probable escape. He lives from errand to errand.

These are real life people from a city in the North. The names may be Emeka, Dele, Akpan or Joseph. The cities may be Aba, Ibadan, Enugu or Port Harcourt. The goods they sell may be ‘pure water’, recharge cards or newspapers. All across Nigeria’s towns and cities are millions of under-aged children and youth in the grip of hunger and poverty. They live a brutish life, eking livelihoods from trays, cartons, baskets and iceboxes, weaving through traffic and defying death at every turn. They live from day to day.

I AM 50, PLEASE CELEBRATE ME

2010-09-08T03:54:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

I have enormous tracts of land and vast volumes of water, but cannot feed myself. So I spend $1 billion to import rice and another $2 billion on milk. I produce rice, but don’t eat it. I have millions of cows but no milk. I am 50, please celebrate me.

I drive the best cars in the world but have no roads, so I crush my best brains in the caverns, craters and crevasses they crash into daily. I am in unending mourning, please celebrate me.

My school has no teacher and my classroom has no roof. I take lectures through windows and live with 15 others in one room. All my professors have gone abroad, and the rest are awaiting visas. I am a university graduate, but I am illiterate. I want a future, please celebrate me.

Preventable diseases send me to hospitals without doctors, medicines or power. All the nurses have gone abroad and the rest are waiting to go also. I have the highest maternal and infant mortality rates in the world and future generations are dying before me. I am hopeless, hapless and helpless, please celebrate me.

For democracy’s sake I stood all day on Election Day. But before I could ink my thumb, results had been broadcast. When I dared to speak out, silence was enthroned by bullets. My leaders are my oppressors, and my policemen are my terrors. I am ruled by men in mufti, but I am not a democracy. I have no verve, no vote, no voice, please celebrate me.

My youth have no past, present nor future. So my sons in the North have become street urchins and his brothers in the South have become kidnappers. My nephews die of thirst in the Sahara and his cousins drown in the Mediterranean. My daughters walk the streets of Lagos, Abuja and Port Harcourt, while her sisters parade the streets of Rome and Amsterdam. I am grief-stricken, please celebrate me.

Pen-wielding bandits have raided everything in my vaults. They walk the land with haughty strides and fly the skies with private planes. They have looted the future of generations unborn and have money they cannot spend in several lifetimes, but their brothers die of starvation. I want a kit of kindness, please celebrate me.

I can produce anything, but import everything. So my toothpick is made in China; my toothpaste is made in South Africa; my salt is made in Ghana; my butter is made in Ireland; my milk is made in Holland; my shoe is made in Italy; my vegetable oil is made in Malaysia; my biscuit is made in Indonesia; my chocolate is made in Turkey and my table water made in France. My taste is far-flung and foreign, please celebrate me.

My land is dead because all the trees have been cut down; flooding kills thousands yearly because the drainages are clogged; my fishes are dead because the oil companies dump waste in my rivers; my communities are vanishing into the huge yawns of gully erosion, and nothing is being done. My very existence is uncertain and I am in the deepest depths of despondence, please celebrate me.

I have genuine leather but choose to eat it. So I spend billions of dollars to import fake leather. I have four refineries, but prefer to import fuel, so I waste more billions to import petrol. I have no security in my country, but send troops to keep peace in another man’s land. I have hundreds of dams, but no water. So I drink ‘pure’ water that roils my innards. I need a vision, please celebrate me.

I have a million candidates craving to enter universities, but my dungeons can only accommodate a tenth. I have no power, but choose to flare gas, so my people have learnt to see in the dark and stare at the glare of naked flares. I am shrouded by darkness, please celebrate me.

For my golden jubilee, I shall spend 16 billion naira to bash around the bonfires of the banal. So what if the majority gaze at my possessed, frenzied dance, drenched in silent tears, as probity is enslaved in democracy’s empty cellars? I am profligacy personified, please celebrate me.

Why can I not simply reflect and ponder? Does my complexion cloud the colour of my character? Does my location limit the lengths my liberty? Does the spirit of my conviction shackle my soul? Does my mien maim the mine of my mind? And is failure worth celebrating?

I am Nigeria, please celebrate me.

The psychology of Northern elite

2010-08-24T01:25:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

In 1955, Chief Obafemi Awolowo introduced a Free Education policy as Premier of the Western Region. Already, his region was well ahead of the North in terms of western education. Today, the products of that policy dominate education, the civil service, business, financial services, medicine, law and a host of other professions in Nigeria and beyond. Fifty- five years later, few, if any of the North’s 19 states has a free education policy.

Today, a single state in the South has more school enrolments than an entire geo-political zone in the North. Pupils still study under trees. Teachers are ill-trained and poorly paid. A primary school in Kaduna state (Rafin-Pa) has 300 pupils who share two classes. A chalk line on the floor serves as demarcation for the different classes. It has two teachers, including the headmaster. There are more private universities in a state in the South than all federal, state and private universities in a Northern zone.

In schools, working conditions are so poor that our few highly trained university lecturers are opting to teach (even in secondary schools) abroad. There is only one state owned university of science and technology in the entire North. A single university in the South graduates more students than several in the North. Even the famous Ahmadu Bello University is crippled by internal wrangling and power-play.

Education is symbolic of the psychology of Northern elite. Fifty years ago, the region was battling to catch up with the rest of the country. Today, the gap is wider than ever. All economic indicators point to the North as the poorest region in Nigeria. Unemployment is higher than other parts. Industries, even in Kano have become empty, cob-webbed buildings echoing with the silence of inactivity. Our elite would rather buy factories in Malaysia and other countries.

Agriculture, the region’s great area of comparative advantage and mainstay of its economy remains subsistence and dependent on the vagaries of weather. This is in spite of the many dams and huge tracts of fertile land the region possesses. Healthcare is not any better. Most states in the South have more doctors than any zone in the North.

Recently, a volunteer group called Movement for a Better Future organized a medical caravan to assist a small village with basic medical services, only to be confronted with many patients requiring surgery and other more serious medical attention from surrounding settlements. Government healthcare has never reached majority of people, so they die from preventable, treatable diseases that should have been long eradicated. The few doctors and other medical personnel we train have no hospitals and no equipment to work with. So they transfer their expertise to other countries.

Cholera, dysentery, meningitis, polio and other preventable diseases seem to afflict only the region. We have been accused of single-handedly stalling the elimination of polio from Africa. Bill Gates had to spend $750 million to fight diseases in our backyards. Our elite would rather keep their dollars in Switzerland, Dubai, Hong Kong and South Africa.

The Sahara desert is inching downwards every year. Entire settlements have been engulfed. Water sources are drying up rapidly; deforestation is exposing millions of people to the elements and making the region vulnerable to drought, flooding and other environmental catastrophes. Overuse has reduced the fertility and productivity of many farmlands. Rapid population expansion further puts pressure on existing resources, while our armies of unemployed youth troop to towns and cities in search of non-existing opportunities. Our elite would rather compete about who lives in a more expensive part of London, the French Riviera or Dubai.

Of course, many Northerners have worked and succeeded in many fields, but most of our so-called elite are people who have served in one public position or another and used their positions to divert public funds for personal use. Corruption is central to the region’s poverty and maladministration. The stolen funds are not used to create jobs or stimulate economic activity, but to buy homes in Europe, America and the Middle-East. The elite compete in sending their children to schools abroad (though they end up with children totally disconnected from reality, unable to adjust to conditions in Nigeria and incapable of defining the essence of life).

This mentality is not limited to the Hausa/ Fulani/ Muslim elite. The elite from other ethnic groups and religions in the North have the same psychology – majority or minority –the thought process is the same: grab as much money as possible; open foreign bank accounts; buy a house in London with a stopover in Dubai; send your children to school abroad and enjoy the loot.

Most of those who would have made a difference in society have been assimilated into the elite class. Remember all those idealistic ‘comrades’ and ‘radicals’ in universities across the North? They have become part of the same system they used to condemn. The dream of many young Northerners is to acquire wealth by whatever means to join the rat race. Idealism is dead. Progressive thinking is anathema. There is no vision, and thus, no prospect for a better future.

Now that Northern elite are divided on whether to retain rotational presidency or support President Jonathan, whose interest are they serving? Only their selfish interests because regardless of who is in power, majority of Northerners (regardless of ethnicity or religion) have nothing to show. The psychology of our leaders is to systematically narrow the economic and political space to the exclusion of the majority.

They have no interest in the economic and political development of the North, preferring to fly with their families to major cities of the world with looted money. In the meantime, illiteracy, poverty, unemployment, insecurity and ethno-religious crises continue to tear the North apart. That is the mindset of the so-called Northern elite.

What if Jonathan chickens out?

2010-07-23T01:20:00.001-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

Nearly five months ago, this column declared: ‘2011: Who says Jonathan won’t run?’ It stated categorically that then acting President Goodluck Jonathan will contest the presidential elections of 2011. In that piece, the attitude of Nigerian politicians and lack of strategic approach to power and politics were highlighted. It has come to pass.

Anyone who thinks President Jonathan won’t contest presidential elections in January 2011 is only dreaming that the man would rise above the fray and do what no other politician in the country has done: turn down the chance to occupy the most powerful office in land. He won’t.

As a prelude to Jonathan’s quest, Vincent Ogbulafor, former Chairman of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) was forced out when a 10 year old corruption case suddenly sprang to life. He made the fatal error of insisting that the party’s zoning arrangement was intact. A more malleable Dr. Okweziliese Nwodo is now chairman. Wake him up in the middle of the night, and the first words he is likely to utter is ‘zoning is dead’! He is a quick learner.

Perceived opponents to Dr. Jonathan’s ambition are being tackled. A certain James Ibori, former national kingmaker suddenly found himself an international refugee. He is not about to show his face on the Nigerian political scene anytime soon. Suddenly, a nearly 20 year old case on the Gulf War oil windfall is receiving government’s loving attention. No points for guessing that the target is former president Ibrahim Babangida.

Similarly, former Vice President Atiku Abubakar’s return to the PDP is facing contrived obstacles from as low as the ward level. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) probably has huge dossiers against potential pretenders to the Throne of Jonathan. The same cudgel will probably be used to stifle any inordinately ambitious governor, some of whom are undoubtedly eyeing the presidency, albeit from a safe distance.

It was former US President Ronald Reagan who stated: ‘I used to say that politics was the second-oldest profession. I have come to know that it bears a gross similarity to the first’. Several members of Nigeria’s oldest surviving party, All Government in Power (AGIP) have emerged from the darker recesses of the political shade to proclaim that it is either Dr. Jonathan or nothing.

Former governor of old Plateau State (and Minister of Police Affairs under General Sani Abacha), Chief Solomon Lar is a key actor whose job is to balkanize the North. Professor Jerry Gana, the only genius able to serve Babangida, Shonekan, Abacha, Obasanjo and Jonathan with equanimity has found his voice again. His job is to bastardize the North.

To reinforce Dr. Jonathan’s arsenal, retired, but very active warriors like Chief Edwin Clark have been called to arms once more and are not afraid of shooting. Professional sycophants and jobbers who thrive in muddied waters have been recruited into the Army of Jonathan. Perhaps even more ominous is the re-emergence of Alhaji Ibrahim Mantu, former Deputy Senate President and arrowhead of former President Obasanjo’s life presidency bid.

Mantu earlier played a prominent role in Abacha’s self-succession bid as a member of the UNCP. He has found his natural calling once more. Senator Mohammed Abba Aji, who botched late president Yar’adua’s letter to the Senate (if there ever was one) is alleged to have received N250 million to oil Jonathan’s machinery. Several top government ministers and senior officials are involved in recruiting riders for Jonathan’s Calvary.

The putrefaction of Nigeria’s politics has naturally attracted political vultures. At the last count, over 800 (yes, eight hundred) groups, associations, organizations and movements have sprang up to demand, insist, cajole, plead, blackmail, threaten and declare that President Goodluck Jonathan must contest the presidential elections in 2011 or else….

Some of the more prominent ones include the Dr. Goodluck for Good Governance (DG4); Northern Coalition for Goodluck Presidency; Northern Friends of the South South (NFSS); Jonathan Goodluck Support Group (JGSG); All Nigeria Youths Support for President Goodluck Jonathan (on Facebook); Middle Belt/ South South Forum (MBSS Forum); Jonathan Youth Vanguard; Niger Delta Common Cause; the Jonathan Movement and 800 other shadowy groups.

These groups are growing in confidence daily, buoyed by the prospect of money and patronage from a potential Jonathan campaign and envisaged presidency. Former advocates of zoning now say it is useless; those in support called worthless. Lifelong friends have been stabbed and long-held views dumped. A huge and profitable industry has grown around Dr. Jonathan and his ambition.

But what if President Jonathan, though perfectly entitled to run decides not to?

Bribing your way through life

2010-07-23T01:11:00.001-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

You know the traffic light has stopped you, but still zoom on, only to be flagged down by traffic wardens who have strategically positioned themselves for that very purpose – not before the lights to deter potential offenders, but after, to arrest actual offenders. For one split instant, you consider speeding off, assured in the knowledge that the wardens do not have the vehicles to chase, nor the gadgets to track you.

But you stop, and like vultures, they get into your car. You drive to a corner and negotiate. They demand for five thousand naira or threaten to take you to court. You plead or insult them into taking two hundred naira. Both sides are satisfied.

A few days later, officers of the Federal Road Safety Corps mount a roadblock to check drivers and vehicle documents. Your driver’s license expired ages ago. Your car does not have insurance or up to date registration. It is seized by stony faced officers. Soon, a friendlier officer comes along and offers you tips on how to ‘escape’ the problem. After artful negotiations, you end up parting with thousands of naira and the car is released. Life goes on.

Not long afterwards, you are stopped by customs officers who demand the original import duties of your car. Nobody knows if they have the powers to do that, but uniforms represent very powerful tools of oppression in Nigeria. Of course you do not have the documents because the car was smuggled in with forged papers. This could be a serious offense, but you negotiate your way out of it with several thousands of naira and a warning to go and get genuine documents. Both of you know it will not happen.

Then you run into a police checkpoint on a highway. The officers are heavily armed and will brook no nonsense. You do not have proof of ownership, so the car is not yours. To prove that the car is actually yours, you are also forced to part with a couple of hundreds of naira. You curse them. You pray that the money will never be of use to them.

You invoke calamities on them and their future generations yet unborn. They do not care. They’ve heard more curses and more invectives rained on them by other motorists. If you do not cut your losses by quickly leaving the scene, you may end of a victim of ‘accidental discharge’ or shot for resisting arrest.

A friend or relative is in hospital with a health problem. You get there, only to be told that the sick person is yet to see a doctor despite waiting for hours. You immediately take charge. You locate the relevant officials and soon, your patient is moved to the front of the line. Miraculously, he sees a doctor within minutes. The hospital pharmacy tells you that there are no medicines and refers you a private pharmacy owned by his friend or relative. You smile knowingly. A few more notes (one issued by the doctor, and the others by the CBN) exchange hands. Again, by some form of miracle, medicines appear.

At school, there is a carryover that you have been unable to deal with. Your friends and classmates tell you that no matter how much you try, you’ll never pass cross that bridge. Eventually, you find out that the course has a fee that has to be paid. Through intermediaries (usually the class rep or other classmates, you pay the fee and the carryover immediately varnishes. Depending on how much you ‘dropped’, you may end of with a distinction.

You get home one day to find that your water supply has been cut. You immediately call a contact at the water board who tells you there is nothing he can do since there is a mass disconnection of defaulters going on. Joke. You see the manager and ‘settle’ with him and he orders that you be immediately reconnected. The bill is torn up.

Every so often, NEPA decides to remind Nigerians that it is still alive, so even without giving you any light, they issue a huge bill you must pay or else be disconnected (from what, you may be tempted to ask). But you know the game and play along. You part with a few thousands and the enormous bills are erased from the central computer. Don’t ask how.

A niece or nephew has been unable to secure admission into a university despite trying several times and is becoming despondent. Since you know that our universities can only take a tenth of the candidates seeking admission every year, you make a call or two, drop a bribe or two and your candidate’s names makes it to the admission list. That the candidate may not be able to meet academic pursuits is not your problem. After all, you have just proved that marks can be bought and sold. When the time comes....

So having bribed, cajoled, threatened and bought your way through life, who then has the moral right to say that votes were rigged, or government corrupt?

THAT BILLION NAIRA PRIMARY SCHOOL

2010-07-23T01:07:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

The Economic Confidential magazine recently reported that the Bauchi state government spent N850 million in renovating a primary school in the state capital. According to the report, the school has 80 class rooms, a clinic, library and a computer laboratory. It was not built afresh. The state did not buy land within Aso Rock or Banana Island to build it. It was not erected on an artificial island or reclaimed from an ocean. And it was not built in space, inner or outer.

The school, the Sa’adu Zungur Model School is 34 years old. The entire Bauchi State government budget for 2010 is about 83 billion naira.

Incidentally, Mallam Ahmad Mahmoud Sa’adu Zugur, for whom the school was named, was a preeminent Hausa poet and philosopher. In his magnum opus, ‘Arewa Mulukiya ko Jamhuriyya’, he prophesied that ‘zalunci’ (injustice), ‘mutuwar zuciya’ (hopelessness), ‘jahilci’ (ignorance),’ zaman banza’ (indolence), ‘bara’ (begging) and ‘sharholiya’ (aimless ventures) would overtake the North unless these ills were addressed. How true.

Education is the foundation of progress, but to spend a whooping N850 million to renovate a single primary at what is probably a grossly inflated sum is symptomatic of the monumental wastage that has taken the place of prudent governance in Nigeria. Flip through the pages of any Nigerian daily and you are sure to come across full page colour advertorials celebrating the ‘achievements’ or anniversaries of state governors, local government chairmen and other politicians. Worse is the fact that they expect to be praised for the ‘achievement’ of awarding contracts at hugely inflated sums.

It is a reflection of ineptitude in governance for politicians to waste valuable public resources to advertise that they have awarded contract for the construction of a primary school, a dispensary or a culvert. Governance ought to be about the generation, aggregation and optimization of resources to improve the lot of citizens; to facilitate access to social infrastructure and the judicious use of public funds to invest in projects and programs that would improve the lives citizens.

In Nigeria, dependence on monthly allocations from the federal government has reduced governance to absurd levels of incompetence. Most states and local government areas are too lazy or cannot be bothered to generate internal revenue.

Why bother to generate a paltry five million when billions are assured every month? Why bother with transparency and accountability when the money being spent is not from public taxes? Why bother to execute projects in public interest when they did not elect you to office in the first place? And indeed who says you are in office to work for the public good when you can steal and plunder with impunity? These posers explain the mindset of politicians in Nigeria.

Apart from glibly advertising the award of contract as achievements in office, the so-called contracts do not follow due process (forget the published ‘Invitations to Bid’) and are hardly executed to professional standards. This explains why the same contracts are awarded year after year with no tangible impact on the lives of citizens apart from ‘settling’ political godfathers and providing food for the ‘boys’. That is why a federal university recently procured a generator for N17 million, then ‘installed’ it for N25 million.

The federal, states and local government areas will spend several trillions of naira this year. But it is difficult to see where the money goes. School pupils still study under trees (or in an N850 million school learning nothing). Women and children still have to trudge for miles in search of water. Youth cannot gain admission to schools or find jobs.

Public transport is epileptic and security nonexistent. Farmers cannot get their produce to the markets… but their Excellencies will take several newspaper pages to advertise their ‘achievements’. If you cannot verify them on ground, you can see the pictures in paid advertorials.

Governors reserve the right to advertise their ‘achievements’, real or imagined, but what Nigerians want are concrete achievements - clean water; good roads, proper schools, operational health care and an economy that creates jobs. But this is Nigeria, where everything comes and goes (into Government Houses). In this land, it is the more they spend, the less we see.

Sa’adu Zungur, whose memory was used to defraud the people of Bauchi state once wrote: “Mu dai aikinmu gaya muku/Ko ku dauka ko ku yi dariya. Dariyarku ta zam kuka gaba/Da nadamar mai kin gaskiya. (Ours is to proclaim the truth/ You either heed or deride it. /Anguish shall supplant your scorn/ For grief awaits rejection of truth).

The President’s mother-tongue

2010-06-21T03:06:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

No one pretended that it was democratic. Its sole purpose was to ensure that the South produced a president at a time the country was reeling from the excesses of 16 years of dictatorship, especially the annulment of the June 12, 1993 elections and the death of Chief MKO Abiola in 1998. It was a compromise in national interest. And so it was that rotational presidency produced Olesugun Obasanjo (who as it turned out, was not the South’s best specimen).

After Obasanjo’s 8 years power returned to the North, but Yar’adua died shortly afterwards, returning the presidency back to the South. Suddenly, rotational presidency is now ‘unconstitutional’. The arrangement is no more ‘binding’. Some politicians from the North that supported it are now emergency converts to the doctrine of ‘Jonathan’s Philosophy’ in exchange for a bit ‘Goodluck Goodies’. In an ironic throwback to the Abacha era, motley groups have emerged with the stated mission of ‘convincing’ President Goodluck Jonathan that the cap fits him and he must run for president in 2011. As if the man needs any convincing….

But the propriety or morality of rotational presidency is not the crux of this piece. It is the fact that 11 years of democracy has only ‘democratized’ poverty, especially in the North. The concern of most people in the North is not the presidency, but poverty. Did Babangida’s eight years improve the North? Or conversely, how many Southerners benefited from Obasanjo’s eight years in office? So while the political elite fight about what the mother tongue of the next president should be, the real issue must be how to challenge poverty.

The focus should be on multiplying the hundreds of trucks laden with fresh food produced from irrigated schemes in the North that depart for markets all over Nigeria daily. The irrigation infrastructures that produced the crops were built in the 1970s, implying that Nigeria is capable of meeting its food needs and even for export through expansion of irrigation. Today, less than 10 of the country’s irrigable land are irrigated.

Nigeria has the potential to become a global food exporter by expanding irrigation. In 1999, 42 percent of arable land in Asia was irrigated, 31 percent in the Near East and North Africa, 14 percent in Latin America and the Caribbean, and only 4 percent in sub-Saharan Africa. Irrigation increases yields of most crops by 100 to 400 percent.

Increased irrigated agriculture is a key to reducing poverty. In many countries, irrigation triggered high economic growth, increased incomes and improved nutrition. It raises yields and is essential to increasing productivity. Farmers benefit from irrigation through increased and more stable incomes and the higher value of irrigated land. Nigeria has large untapped reserves of groundwater. In addition, there is great potential for harvesting water runoff and for farming lowlands and valley bottoms that catch it naturally.

The development of small, cost - efficient earth dams is important in breaking the poverty circle. A study of small-scale irrigation schemes across Africa found that irrigation improved incomes, diets and health. For example, when women no longer had to fetch water from far away, they had time to start market gardens, thereby improving their incomes and diets. The benefits extended beyond increased agricultural productivity. Women earned income and help families reduce debt. It increased school attendance, reduced seasonal migration for work and earned cash to pay for previously unaffordable essentials.

Underused water resources in Nigeria offer great potential for irrigation using simple and inexpensive technologies. Irrigation development is a goldmine as long as it includes: (1) a sustainable strategy for irrigated agriculture in Nigeria; (2) development of cost effective rain harvesting techniques for domestic and agricultural uses; (3) steps to position Nigeria as Africa’s leading organic crop production area; (4) creation millions of direct and indirect employment; (5) encouraging the emergence of agro-allied industries in; (6) ensuring better management of soil moisture in rain fed areas; (7) facilitation of direct investment in water harvesting and storage.

Focus must be on the development of small-scale community-based irrigation schemes; improved water access and control for semi-urban agriculture; the evolution of an environmentally sound system of improved water access for livestock in arid and semi-arid areas; better alignment of irrigation and drainage institutions, and transfer of responsibilities for operation, maintenance and management of irrigation and drainage systems to organized local user groups; cost-sharing for infrastructure improvement; appropriate systems of water rights and volumetric delivery for greater efficiency in water use; and re-dimensioning of irrigation systems where they are not financially or environmentally viable.

Implementing these strategies will create millions of jobs. Food security would be assured. Environmental challenges would be mitigated. Foreign exchange earnings would be boosted and poverty eradicated. If we focus on the things that are truly important like fighting poverty, who wants to know if the next president’s mother tongue is Ijaw or Fulfulde….?

How not to become a governor

2010-05-20T00:53:00.001-07:00

Salisu Suleiman

The elevation of Architect Mohammed Namadi Sambo, former governor of Kaduna State to the position of Vice President of Nigeria paved way for his deputy, Mr. Patrick Ibrahim Yakowa to become governor of the state. Initially there were rumours that Yakowa, a Christian from the southern part would face strong opposition from the majority Muslim population of the state. It turned out that the rumours were the handiwork of detractors whose candidate lost out in the race to be vice president. Rightfully, the Sultan of Sokoto dispelled the rumours and pledged Muslim support for the new governor.

The fact that only the unexpected elevation of Sambo to Vice President made it possible for Yakowa to be governor raises serious issues about our brand of politics, the concepts of majority and minority, competence in the selection of candidates and the entire electoral process. If there ever was a candidate qualified to be governor of Kaduna State, that candidate would be Patrick Yakowa. This man was a Director in the Federal Civil Service in important ministries like Water Resources and Defence, Kaduna State Chairman of one of General Babangida’s two defunct parties, Commissioner in Kaduna State for several years, Minister of Solid Minerals under General Abdulsalam and federal Permanent Secretary.

After leaving the federal civil service, Yakowa became Secretary to the state government, and upon the death of former Kaduna State deputy governor, took over that position under then governor Makarfi. Ordinarily, he should have stepped into his boss’s shoes and become governor in 2007, but so timid was minority politics that he hardly bothered to contest the primaries. After the political abracadabra that brought the then relatively unknown Sambo to Kaduna government as governor, Patrick Yakowa was content to remain as deputy governor. That was the limits of his political aspirations, restricted as it were, not by lack of ambition, but the issue of minority and majority politics.

The patient dog, they say, may eat the fattest bone, and Yakowa’s patience has paid off. The danger in accepting this position is that what if President Umaru Musa Yar’adua had not died? Or what if another of the numerous contenders for the position of Vice President had been nominated? That would mean that Yakowa, as qualified as he is to be governor, with his far reaching contacts and many Muslim friends in Kaduna and elsewhere across Nigeria may never have become governor. This is a man who in likelihood has more experience in politics, public administration and governance than his two predecessors in office – Senator Makarfi and Vice President Sambo combined.

Unless Yakowa gets distracted by the desire and pressure to contest for governor in his own right in 2011, he may prove to be a better administrator than both men. And that, exactly, is the point of this piece because if he falls for the politics of religion and ethnicity, and not competence, he may not win. Across Nigeria, the partition of Africa that the Berlin Conference started so long ago has been perfected by the politics of state and local government creation. And as more states are created, so are new minorities. Thus, in Kaduna, only the emergence of Sambo as vice president made it possible for Yakowa to become governor.

In Benue State, the Tivs would probably never surrender the governorship to an Idoma no matter how qualified and experienced. This happened in 2007 when Mike Onoja, an Idoma retired federal permanent secretary with all the right contacts lost the PDP primaries to the relatively inexperienced Gabriel Suswan, from the majority Tiv. If the Idomas succeed in getting Apa state, the Igedes would become the minorities in the new state and may never produce a governor. In Taraba State, a Muslim candidate for governor, regardless of qualification for the position would require Christian support to be elected.

In Adamawa state, Boni Haruna, a Christian broke that trend and was governor for eight years, beating Muslim candidates in 2003, but it is now business as usual. In Plateau State, despite its large Muslim population, no Muslim has been deputy governor in this Republic. The highest elected office Muslims occupy is deputy speaker of the State House of Assembly. In the south, even in relatively cosmopolitan and homogeneous states like Ogun, issues exist between the Egbas and the Ijebus.

In the final analysis, when religion or ethnicity, rather than qualification and competence determine who gets elected into what office, our political system may continue to remain one of garbage in, garbage out.

2011: Who says Jonathan won’t run?

2010-03-17T05:45:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

As INEC unfolds its proposals for next year’s general elections in the midst of rising political activity, it is clearer than ever that if there is one thing common to Nigerian politicians, it is the fact that most of them do not look back at history and are thus unable to project, even hypothetically, what the future may be like. And because they are unable to draw the lessons from the past, they very often lack a strategic approach to power and politics. Indeed, from the jostling and postulations currently going on in the country, it is obvious that they also do not understand the nature and essence of power.

Our politicians have refused to learn from the fact that there has been no military leader in Nigeria who has not attempted to extend his tenure by one means or another. Similarly, no civilian president has ever voluntarily declined the chance for re-election. From colonial times till date, there have been few, if any, Nigerian politician at any level who has opted to step down from office, or not to stand for re-election. Not many Nigerians are aware that a major reason for the coup to oust General Yakubu Gowon was his attempt to prolong his rule. General Murtala Mohammed and others promptly threw him out and announced October 1979 as a date to hand over power back to civilians.

History may have credited General Olusegun Obasanjo as the first African military leader to organize democratic elections and transfer power to civilians, but he actually tried to woo African leaders in a bid to shift the hand over date. When they snubbed him, he organized the 1979 elections and handed over to his preferred candidate. As ineffectual as Shehu Shagari was as president, he sought a second term in office and got the NPN to do what the PDP has turned into sublime art: massive rigging. Shagari ended up spending most of what should have been his second term under house arrest. General Buhari either did not have the guile, or simply couldn’t be bothered to draw up a transition timetable. General Babangida took care of that and did it so well that Nigerians lost count of his timetables.

Abacha’s transition timetable was simply to die in office. He got his wish (though much earlier than he expected). It is tempting to point to Abdulsalam Abubakar who spent less than one year in office as an exception, but he had little option but to quickly organize elections and leave. It was a question of self-preservation. (And with oil selling at a lowly $9 a barrel, there wasn’t much to hang around for). Obasanjo’s much denied Third Term bid was every bit real. And even frail Yar’Adua (Turai?) wanted a second term before divine intervention took care of events.

The point is: all those who think that Acting President Gooduck Jonathan will not run for President come 2011 have no idea about the enormous powers wielded by the Nigerian Presidency and the equally enormous resources at its disposal. With his easygoing mien and outward unwillingness, it is easy to underestimate Dr. Jonathan. But the man is a much more consummate power player than people, and even other politicians give him credit for. The greatest myth around Jonathan is the notion that he has always been a reluctant leader, and that by some miracle, power has always followed him. To have successfully sold that dummy is one of the smartest acts of political subtlety in Nigeria.

Every experienced politician knows that power does not follow anybody. It has to be fought for. Some are so desperate for power that they lose all sense of propriety in its pursuit, even to the point of obsession. By indicating his disinclination to run, Jonathan has effectively diffused the tension brewing up, especially about the issue of rotational presidency. He has also thrown a large, juicy bone to the political dogs in Nigeria who are now battling to position themselves for either the role of vice president, or at least to emerge as the PDP nominee for presidential elections in 2011. The PDP added spice to the soup by insisting that its presidential candidate in 2011 will come from the North. Really?

At the moment, all sorts of permutations are going on. The same old faces like Ibrahim Babangida, Aliyu Gusau, Atiku Abubakar, Muhammadu Buhari are jostling for handholds. Some pretenders like Ibrahim Shekarau, Bukar Abba Ibrahim, Danjuma Goje, Sule Lamido, Bukola Saraki and Isa Yuguda are also strategizing in the hope that some sort of miracle will occur. These people underestimate the determination of the younger generation which has vowed that none of these candidates will smell the presidency even by a million miles because they are part of the problem. Several movements have come up to ensure that fresh faces and tested patriots in the mould of Nasir el-Rufai, Nuhu Ribadu or Ahmed Adamu Muazu emerge as president. These groups are consulting with, and extending their reach to other regions, professional bodies, civil society and other political groups to ensure the success of their strategies.

Except that it may not be as easy to shove Jonathan aside. Unless the man really does not want to be president, these politicians may be in for a rude shock. At the appropriate time, and with the appropriate level of reluctance, Jonathan will ‘unwillingly’ allow himself to be persuaded to run for president. He won’t be running because he has any ambitions. He will run only after ‘deeply reflecting on the calls from Nigerian patriots home and abroad, traditional rulers, majority of governors, and out of respect for the wishes of the Nigerian people’. He will claim that it his patriotic duty to run for president at the country’s hour of need. Or something like that….

Sanusi, return my money

2010-01-25T09:14:00.000-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

Dear Central Bank Governor, Sanusi, from the radical reforms you have embarked upon and the systematic unravelling of the ‘Con-Soludation’ of the banking sector, it is obvious that you are a man of honour, principled and just. It is also good to know that you have refused to be intimidated by the well-oiled campaign of calumny against you. It is for that reason that I am appealing to you directly to help redress an intractable problem and return my US$15 which was mistakenly paid into the Central Bank by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission.

A background may be needed. It started in 2007 with a certain Mr. James Ibori, who was then Governor of Delta State. For the eight years he held sway, the state received hundreds of billions of naira in allocations from the federal government and internally generated revenue. Those who are familiar with the state give the impression that there is hardly anything tangible on ground to explain where that amount of money has gone. But that is beside the point. Even the stories making the rounds that the man has private jets and property spread all over the world is not my business. Who has any proof?

However, you must recall the allegation that Mr. Ibori attempted to ‘settle’ the then Chairman of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) Nuhu Ribadu to drop charges of corruption by offering US$15 million. You see, the claim has absolutely no merit. Where would Ibori, a mere governor of a state with an annual salary of about 2 million naira get that amount of money? Even if he had saved every kobo for the eight years he served as governor, he still wouldn’t have been able to save up to US$15 million.

So clearly, the money does not belong to Ibori, and couldn’t have come from him. Evidently also, the money couldn’t have come from the Delta State government because as you read this, there has been no report of any missing money from the state government, or from any indigene of the state. If you do not believe me, ask Mr. Ibori or the Delta state government if the money belongs to either of them and you’ll get strong denials from both parties. They will assert that the money belongs to neither Mr. Ibori nor the Delta State government.

Mr. Governor, I lost track of my money at about the same time in April 2007 when the EFCC deposited the sum of $15 million dollars in cash with the Central Bank of Nigeria. The Commission claimed that the money was given as bribe to drop charges of corruption against Mr. Ibori, but the man has not only denied ever giving that money in bribe, a Federal High Court also dismissed all 170 charges of corruption and money laundering brought against him by the EFCC. It means that Ibori truly had nothing to do with the money. By remarkable coincidence, the amount of money I lost is US$15 million. Nobody else in the world, here in Nigeria or abroad has claimed losing that amount of money in the nearly 3 years the money has been with the CBN.

If you need copies of the court judgement proving Mr. Ibori’s innocence, I will provide them. In discharging him, the Federal High Court, Asaba said that the prosecution failed to prove that a prima facie case had been established. The prosecutors, the judge maintained, did not assemble reasonable evidence to support their charges. Justice Marcel Awokulehin, who minted the milestone judgement stated that “going strictly on the evidence before this court, I hold that the application for quash has merit and accordingly the charges be and, are hereby quashed and the accused persons are hereby discharged”. Since Mr. Ibori is discharged, what more evidence do you need to return my money, Mr. Governor?

Sir, I have provided logical and legal evidence that the US$15 million could not have come from Ibori or the Delta state government. I can also prove that the money did not come from Ribadu, because he could not have produced US $15 million from a policeman’s paltry salary- not even if he saved every kobo he ever earned for the more than 20 years he spent in the police. So the money is the one I lost. You must be aware that our Constitution says everyone is innocent until proven guilty. I do not have to explain how I got that amount of money since I am not under investigation, nor charged with any crime. I earned that US $15 million.

Dear CBN Governor, please kindly direct me to the branch of the CBN where I can claim my life’s earnings. If the CBN needs a sworn affidavit to prove that the money is mine, I have no doubt that my old pal Marcel will sign one for me. The Justice.

What good old days?

2010-01-09T10:38:00.000-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

When Nigerians, fed up with the myriad of unending problems that confront the country refer, nostalgically to the ‘good old days’, it is difficult not to wonder what good old days? There is no problem with older people trying to impress on younger ones that things were better in certain areas. For example, I enjoy telling my nephews that at the time I entered university, a bottle of coke cost just 20 kobo, and that I used to fly Nigeria Airways from Kaduna to Lagos for about 60 naira.

Similarly, I enjoy telling those harried souls hustling and jostling desperately for British visas that there was a time when all you needed to land in London was a valid Nigerian passport and a ticket. No online this or that, no interviews, no hassles. Just a ticket, and you were in the UK, or any member of the British Commonwealth, including Canada, Australia and other destinations that have become ‘no go’ and ‘no come’ areas for Nigerians.

The only problem with such stories is the presumption that things were perfect, and that Nigeria was better back in those good old days. But beyond these surface aesthetics, it is hard to determine what good old days people keep referring to. If by good old days, they are thinking of the crippling political, even constitutional crises we face today, do they remember the wild west of the 1960s when people were lynched in public for daring to proclaim different political orientations, the constitutional crisis and the eventual coup de tat, or the problems in the Second Republic?

If by the good old days, people are comparing the state of our roads today to what we had before, it may be worth remembering that the Lagos-Ibadan expressway, built in the late 70s was the first in Nigeria. Before that, practically were no dual-carriage ways. It is true that today’s highways have become life-guzzling craters from a warzone, but that does not mean that single lanes are better than dual-carriage expressways just because we are unable to maintain them. Some bridges from the good old days could be used by one vehicle at a time, and were also used by trains.

If the issue is about falling standards of education, they may have a point, except that education did not crash today. I have been taught by professors from the so-called good old days who dictated lecture notes (at doctoral level). They are products of first generation universities did their PhDs in Britain and America. Or better still, have you heard Turai Yar’adua speak English? She left university in those supposedly good old days. Recall also that many teachers in our schools were Ghanaians, Indians, Filipinos, Egyptians, etc. What is the virtue in having foreigners mould our children from their formative stages?

If the insecurity of nowadays, especially the unceasing armed robbery attacks all over the country is reason to wish for the good old days, it is worth remembering the terror filled times of the Oyenusi and Anini days. Armed robbery is not an invention of this age, but was present even in the good old days. Also, if the discussion is about health care, it is easy for people to say thing were better back then. But it may not the facilities, but the staff, especially in mission hospitals that were better. Then, as now, most medicines and medical equipment were imported, though one may concede that fake drugs were almost unknown then.

And yes, when people talk of the poor (or nonexistent) power generation in Nigeria, the tendency is also to suggest that things were better. But power outages have been with from as far back as I can remember. I also know that my village in Kano State only got electricity (epileptic as it may be) not too long ago, and certainly not in the good old days. So is the basis for comparison with the good old days that of permanent bush lamps or today’s epileptic power supply?

When those who are old enough to remember how things were in the 60s, 70s and even 80s refer to the ‘good old days’, what they mean is not that things were actually better then, but that Nigerians did things better with the little they had. The plain truth is that we have never actually done anything right.

I pray that a few years from now, Nigerians would not sigh nostalgically and say ‘in the good old days when Yar’adua was president....’

Where is Yuguda?

2010-01-07T10:49:00.001-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

If any resident of Bauchi State can claim with any measure of certainty the exact whereabouts of Bauchi State Governor Isa Yuguda at any point in time, that person is most probably a permanent part of the itinerant governor’s travelling team. For a state that defeated the PDP rigging machine so convincingly in 2007, the expected rewards of good governance, job creation, justice and socio-economic development have not materialized. If anything, what promised to spark a revolution in the political culture of Nigeria has transformed to staid, reactionary absent dictatorship.

The general elections in Bauchi in 2007 was an experiment in peoples' power as voters in the state overwhelmingly booted out the ruling Peoples' Democratic Party (PDP) in favor of the underdog and grossly underfunded All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP). It demonstrated the powers of a mobilized electorate. Against all expectations and conventional wisdom, Isa Yuguda, freshly expelled from the PDP, found accommodation in the rival ANPP and won with such an overwhelming majority that the PDP conceded without as much as a whimper.

The entire conduct of the election and the results announced were test cases for our democracy. It showed that if we protect our mandates, our votes can matter and that people's power is the ultimate power. The magnitude of the victory and the expectations of voters in the aftermath put Yuguda in a unique position to reward the people of Bauchi with good governance.

Prior to the elections, Yuguda was a political orphan, having been expelled from the PDP after declaring his interest to contest for Governor. His bosom friend, then governor Ahmed Muazu was said to have sworn heaven and earth that Yuguda would never become governor. After representing Bauchi state in the Federal Executive Council as Minister of Aviation (that is another story) for several years, Yuguda found himself expelled from the PDP, and was said not to be an indigene of Bauchi. With public sympathy, he moved into the ANPP and won handsomely.

The ground was set for a political revolution in Nigeria, and Yuguda had the key. All that he needed to do was institutionalize the tenets of good governance: honesty, transparency and accountability, and voters in other states, seeing the success of the Bauchi experiment would have mobilized to eliminate rigging from the Nigerian electoral landscape.

Alas, once in office, Yuguda not only betrayed the people's expectations, but actually returned to the lion's den from where he was rescued by the people. It would be dangerous to dismiss the undercurrent of discontent and simmering anger in Bauchi, despite what the governor's minders might tell him. It is not an accident that the state has recorded a number of religious disturbances with numerous losses of lives of recent. These disturbances are symptomatic of deeper social dislocation.

The jobs he promised the teeming youth are nowhere to be seen. The infrastructure built by his predecessor has not been improved upon. His electoral promises are largely un-kept. But that is not the quarrel with the Bauchi state governor. The issue with Yuguda is not the fact that he has very thoroughly disappointed the good people of Bauchi, or the fact that in nearly three years of his administration, his most famous achievement was his grand wedding to the president's daughter.

The way Yuguda treated his former Deputy Governor, Mohammed Gadi isn't exactly a lesson in fairness either. If Yuguda's expulsion from the PDP was painful and unjust, the impeachment of Gadi on a flimsy excuse indicates that the Bauchi electorate did not really know the man they fought so gallantly to install as governor.

The major disappointment with Yuguda is the way he beheaded the political revolution began by the people of Bauchi. After coming to office, all he needed to do was ensure that the voters' faith in him was justified. This, he would have done by institutionalizing the tenets of transparency and accountability. All Yuguda had to do was to provide the people with effective governance, and he would not have needed to marry President Yar’adua’s daughter for his political survival.

Indeed, if Yuguda had kept his electoral promises, it would have been so easy for the North, so desperately in search of leadership to look to him to fill the vacuum. A President Yuguda would not have been inconceivable. Indeed, it was within easy reach. Yet he chose to kill the political revolution that brought him to power. The problem with hindsight is that it is always right. All the same, it is now easy to see why former governor Muazu, who knew Yuguda better than most, tried so vigorously to keep him from Government House. Perhaps, Muazu was right.

The tragedy of the affair is that Yuguda, as the greatest beneficiary of people's power has done more than any despot in the history of Nigeria to undermine genuine democracy and popular participation.

A thief and a whiz kid

2010-01-02T05:45:00.001-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

Central Bank Governor Sanusi Lamido Sanusi was aghast when he was told that the CBN may need to pump as much as two trillion naira to revive the banking sector. That is close to the amount of money that ‘vanished’ from commercial banks. For the man at the helm of Nigeria’s biggest bank before his elevation, that is saying much. But even more fundamental is the issue of corruption, not only in banks, but in the entire private sector.

It is the norm to attribute corruption in Nigeria to the public sector. Indeed, every failing in the country is the handwork of civil servants. When it is mentioned that the poverty rate in Nigeria has gone up from 46 percent to 76 percent over the last 13 years, civil servants get the blame because of the assumption that corruption, lack of capacity and mismanagement is exclusive to the public sector. The World Bank stated that Nigeria has lost well over $300 billion during the last three decades to corruption.

The revelations from the banking sector in the last few months have demonstrated clearly that if corruption is to blame for the ills of our country, then civil servants, and indeed, the public sector cannot be held solely responsible for sad state of affairs we find ourselves. We do not need Hilary Clinton to remind us of the wasted $300 billion or the fact that ‘they don’t tell you how many hospitals and roads could have been built. They don’t tell you how many schools could have opened, or how many more Nigerians could have attended college, or how many mothers might have survived childbirth if that money had been spent differently’.

That the estimated $300 billion has been looted is not in contention. That properly utilized, that money would have made Nigeria the envy of not only Africa, but the rest of the world is not in question. What is begging for an answer is who took the money? Undoubtedly, the money was meant for public works, but was diverted by civil servants serving under military and civilian administrations. But who owns the banks? Who has the expertise to launder money? Who has the skills to bury stolen money under layers upon layers of legitimate businesses? Surely, operators in the private sector - that supposedly efficient, clean and ethical component of the economy would have played pivotal roles in the diversion of looted funds?

But not content with hiding and managing looted public funds, some bankers decided to take a bite of the corruption cherry. Ironically, they proved that they are as efficient as advertized, and demonstrated their innate capacities by practically stealing every kobo of depositors money entrusted to their care. The story of the trillions of naira lost by investors in the stock market may never be completely told, but what happened in the market is a story of unrivaled and unbridled greed. All the operators knew that there was no basis for the mind-boggling gains being made in the market, but lacked the capacity for restraint. The millions of ruined investors and impoverished families all over the country better illustrate this point.

The public sector in Nigeria has millions of workers, but with the current minimum wage of seven thousand five hundred, most of them are at the point of starvation. While not justifying theft under any guise, it is easier to excuse a father of five with an income of 15,000 per month who asks for bribe to enable him pay his children’s school fees than an unmarried banker with an income 300,000 per month who steals depositors’ money to acquire an extra BMW. It is worth remembering that the salary of a newly employed fresh graduate banker is at par with that of a director in the public sector. It takes 20 years or more to become director.

The kind of theft that has taken place in our banks in the four short years of post consolidation has left civil servants and other public sector workers looking like angels. The entire banking sector workforce is less than 100,000. A few crooks among them have, at the risk of generalization nearly crippled the entire Nigerian economy. Add to them the plethora of crooked stock broking firms, insurance companies and other private sector operators you wonder the sorts of underhand deals that go on virtually unreported.

A civil servant that steals is a corrupt official. A businessman that steals 10 times as much is a whiz kid.

Agenda for President Jonathan

2009-12-27T11:36:00.001-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

It is said that some people are born great, while others have greatness thrust upon them. I do not wish President Umaru Musa Yar’adua dead. On the contrary, I wish him well. But as with everything in life, time unravels and cures. Time has cured Nigeria of the ‘Great Deception’, and the dummy we bought under Umaru Musa Yar’adua has eventually unravelled. The deception is over, and the time for some home, if bitter truths has come.

The fact is that most Nigerians, except for the most rabid Yar’adua supporter suspect that the end of an era is in sight. And is it not just an end to the administration of President Yar’adua, but a terminal decline of the Yar’adua dynasty’s political fortunes. The sun has set, and time is closing in. Ultimately, power, that most cherished of all brides will prove that no groom can hold on to it for life. Power, it seems has just escaped the cold claws of Yar’adua. And the equally cold reality is that Goodluck Jonathan must set an agenda to rescue Nigeria from the banal cabal that blighted, what at inception was an administration that was supposed to liberate us from eight years of Obasanjo’s tyranny.

Unfortunately, after nearly three years, no one, including the indefatigable Dora Akunyili can point out to one decent achievement of the Yar’adua administration. It is instructive that even the longest serving cabinet member and Minister of Works, Alhaji Lawal Hassan has admitted that the Federal Government did not complete any of the 81 road projects it planned to execute in 2009. By every account, and from indices of measurement, the Yar’adua experiment has been an unmitigated disaster. For a government that promised to declare a state of emergency in the power sector, Nigerians are inundated daily with stories of the billions of dollars being spent on the sector. After spending nearly $6 billion, the government still says it requires an additional $5 billion. It is difficult to imagine that any Nigerian really believed that empty presidential promise.

The disappointment with the Yar’adua administration is born of the inexcusable squander of opportunities and the callous disregard for the rule of law it promised to uphold. Therefore, in setting an agenda for President Jonathan, it must be understood that though Umaru reduced governance to a non-activity, what dug his grave is the tribe of opportunists (including family and friends) that beclouded his judgement and secluded him from the dangers of the gathering storm that nearly led him, and by extension, Nigeria, to the abyss. Jonathan must free himself from that narrow and selfish group, even if it includes close family members.

Nigeria under Yar’adua was in a state of perpetual crises of governance. The country deserves better and Jonathan will do well to avoid the greed, crass ineptitude, double speak and corruption that marred Yar’adua’s government. The only way to rectify the situation is not by simply throwing out Yar’adua’s henchmen, desirable as that may be. What needs to be done is the institutionalization of good governance, regardless of the political actors on the stage. It is important that government goes beyond the individual.

The agenda for President Jonathan must also be viewed against the backdrop of the catastrophic failure of Yar’adua’s ill-fated 7 Point Agenda. Jonathan cannot escape responsibility for some of those failures though he had little influence in that government. But it is not too late to salvage some vestiges of respectability and even a chance to go down kindly in history as a remarkable administration in Nigeria. All Jonathan needs is a single point agenda: bequeathing a legacy of genuine democracy, constitutional supremacy and dumping the warped notion of rotational presidency.

If all Yar’adua had managed to do was to adopt the recommendations of Electoral Reforms panel he himself set up, he might have laid the foundation for the emergence of a truly democratic Nigeria. Instead, he is leaving office on a note of betrayal and failure. To avoid a similar fate and write his name in gold, all President Jonathan has to do is adopt the report of the Electoral Reform Panel and ensure that elections in the country at all levels are free and fair and reflect the wishes of the electorate.

That way, Jonathan will not only be remembered as a great leader, but will go down in history with the title that many former leaders wanted desperately but will never have: ‘Father of Modern Nigeria’. Greatness has been thrust upon Jonathan. It is up to him to either write his name in gold, or go down in history as another opportunistic despot.

PLEASE RE-BRAND ME

2009-12-22T06:10:00.000-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

I am Nigeria. I have plenty of land and water, but cannot feed myself. So I spend $1 billion to import rice and another $2 billion to import milk. I produce rice, but don’t eat it. I have 60 million cattle but no milk. I am hungry, please re-brand me.

I drive the best cars in the world but no roads. I lose family and friends everyday on roads for which funds have been looted. My young, old, and most brainy and productive people die in the potholes, craters and crevasses they travel on. I am in permanent mourning, please re-brand me.

My school has no teacher and my classroom has no roof. I am taught through the window and live with 15 others in a single room. All my professors have gone abroad, and the rest are awaiting visas. I am a university graduate, but illiterate. I want a future, please re-brand me.

My President runs abroad for treatment because my hospitals which have no doctors, no medicines and no power. My wife gives birth with bush lamp and surgery is performed by quacks. I have the highest maternal and infant mortality rates in the world and future generations are dying before me. I am hopeless, hapless and helpless, please re-brand me.

I wanted change so stood all day long to vote, but results were announced before it was my turn. When I dared to speak, silence was enthroned by bullets. My rulers are my oppressors, and my policemen are my terrors. I am ruled by men in mufti, but I am not a democracy. I have no verve, no vote, no voice, please re-brand me.

I have 50 million youths with no jobs, no present and no future. So those in the North have become street urchins and those in the South, militants. My nephews die of thirst in the Sahara and others drown in the Mediterranean. My daughters walk the streets of Lagos, Abuja and Port Harcourt, while her sisters parade the streets of Rome and Amsterdam. I am inconsolable, please re-brand me.

My leaders have looted everything on the ground and below. They walk the land with haughty strides and fly the skies with private jets. They have stolen the future of generations yet unborn and have money they cannot spend in several lifetimes, while their neighbors die of hunger. I want justice, please re-brand me.

I can produce anything, but import everything. So my toothpick is made in China; my toothpaste is made in South Africa; my salt is made in Ghana; my butter is made in Ireland; my milk is made in Holland; my shoe is made in Italy; my vegetable oil is made in Malaysia; my biscuit is made in Indonesia; my chocolate is made in Turkey and my table water made in France. My taste is far-flung and foreign, please re-brand me.

My people die because kerosene explodes in their faces; my land is dead because all the trees have been cut down; flood kills my people yearly because the drainages are clogged; my fishes are dead because the oil companies dump waste in my rivers; my communities are vanishing into the huge yawns of gully erosion, and nothing is being done. My livelihood is in jeopardy, and I am in the uttermost depths of despondence, please re-brand me.

I have genuine leather but choose to eat it. So I spend a billion dollars to import fake leather. I have four refineries, but prefer to import fuel, so I waste more billions to import petrol. I have no security in my country, but would rather send troops to keep the peace in another man’s land. I have 160 dams, but cannot get water to drink, so I buy ‘pure’ water that roils my innards. I have a million children waiting to enter universities, but my ivory dungeons can only take a tenth. I have no power, but choose to flare gas, so my people have learnt to see in the dark and stare at the glare of naked flares. I have no direction, please re-brand me.

You see, re-branded entities will never alter the tunes of inbred rhythms. Just as the drums of heritage heralds the frenzied jingles, remember - the Nigerian soul can only be Nigerian - fighting free from the cold embrace of a government that has no spring, no sense, no shame. So we watch the possessed, frenzied dance, drenched in silent tears as freedom is locked up in democracy’s empty cellars. I need guidance, please re-brand me.

But then, why must I be re-branded? Can my complexion cloud the color of my character? Or my location limit the lengths my liberty? Does the spirit of my conviction shackle my soul? Does my mien maim the mine of my mind? And is this life worth re-branding? I am not yet born, please re-brand me.

A civil servant and a dog

2009-12-16T06:20:00.001-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

You meet two civil servants. One tells you his salary for the month is yet to be paid, his rent is up, and his children's school fees due. The other tells you that the property he bought for N40 million two years has just been valued at N100 million. They work in the same office.

Our bureaucracy has produced some of the most brilliant minds in Nigeria, and also some of the most inept. Upon joining the service, the civil servant is full of fresh ideas and is on a mission to change the world. He is full of good plans for Nigeria and anxious to begin.

But as soon as he concludes documentation, a different reality confronts him. He comes to work at the official opening time of 8 am, but has to wait for the cleaners who come in at 9. They both have to wait for the officer with the keys. Time check: 10a.m: two hours to get the office cleaned; two hours to gossip before lunch; two hours for lunch, and another two hours of ‘not on seat' before closing at 4 pm.

Typical day.

He has no desk, no job schedule and nothing to do. Nobody cares whether he comes to the office or not. His pay is less than half a million for the entire year (compared to the N4m of a classmate who is banker and N7m of another in telecoms). Though nearly 30, he cannot afford to rent even a single room and has to live with friends.

He has no idea when he will be able to get married, or afford a jalopy.

He is sharp, intelligent and hardworking, and would have done a fine job anywhere, but this is the only job he has. His first promotion, despite no failing on his part, comes after 6 to 10 years. With no contacts, he has little chance of getting another job and has no options but to remain, hoping for when he finds the right ‘spoon'.

Soon, he is approaching 40. He still entertains vague hopes of leaving, but those hopes are dimming. He might have found a small spoon because he is now married, and lives in a rented or personal house. He has come to terms with the system and has no more illusions about changing the world. After a decade or more, he has only just got his second promotion. He is not happy, but only occasionally does his conscience prick him. Like concrete, bureaucracy gets tougher with age.

Before long, he is nearing 50 and also approaching management level. All thoughts of leaving are now over. His children are in secondary schools and universities. Conscience has been subsumed by survival. He still earns much less than his contemporaries in the private sector and as always, is lagging behind by many years in promotion. But he has landed property and reasonable assets. He is fundamentally insecure as the middle ages advance, but admits that things could be worse.

51 -60 years soon come. After years of slow promotions, he finally has the contacts to pull a string or two, and is a director, or even permanent secretary. He knows he can afford to make no mistake as what he does now will determine the rest of his life. He has a home abroad, a chieftaincy title and huge responsibilities.

Then he retires. Those who wielded big spoons and scooped liberally retire to a life of luxury. Some make it to government houses or the Senate. Others go into business. Others still, are crowned or turbaned. They own banks, hotels and other major businesses and are consulted by government, being part of the ruling elite.

For those who never got to wield big spoons, this is the worst phase. Used to a monthly salary cycle, the first few months without one is a death sentence. His children are not well-trained because he could not educate them. They are of no help; no one will help him because when he was in office he didn't help himself.

Every month that passes takes him closer to his grave. His eyes are gone and his health failing.

His pension and retirement benefits will not be paid until a week after his death. And when he dies, old, tired,

lonely and miserable, he is buried and quickly forgotten.

One is a typical Nigerian bureaucrat; dubious, slippery and inordinately corrupt. The other, debased by the system, ends up with a dog's life.

Sallah in Soulless Abuja

2009-12-07T22:15:00.001-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

When a place has to be cleared of all its native inhabitants to pave way for the emergence of a capital city, a fundamental part of that place – indeed, its very essence has been uprooted. At no time is the soulless nature of Abuja more exposed than during religious or national celebrations. Give any public holiday, and the city is deserted in droves.

Last Sallah provided another opportunity to yet again examine this phenomenon. The streets were so empty that for those getting used to the miniature new Lagos now emerging, Abuja truly felt eerie. Driving to the eid ground between 8 and 9 in the morning, I almost began to feel that I was alone in the entire city. The sight of another car several minutes later gave me cause to cheer, almost like a lost, lonely shipwreck coming across a lifeboat.

Not even the fact that most Muslims who opted to spend Sallah in Abuja were on their ways to various open fields used for eid prayers gave the city any air of festivity. Sallah in Abuja is a soulless, sterile affair. It seems that the only people who suffer to remain in the city during public holidays are those who are unable to raise transport fares, or money for a full tank to bail out.

Not in Abuja will one see thousands of excited children decked out in their best clothes exuberantly celebrating the festival. Not in Abuja will you see the Emir and his palace guards decked out in full royal regalia proceeding to the eid grounds. Not in Abuja will one participate in the exhilarating durbars and horse-riding competitions that make Sallah such an exciting period. I promise I shall not spend the next Sallah in Abuja.

Missing the fun of Sallah apart, the dry empty streets of Abuja raises some fundamental questions about our new capital city. Abuja is nicknamed ‘the centre of unity’. But when the essence of a city is lost, when the bonds of humanity that binds people together is missing, there really can be no talk of unity. Abuja no doubt has some of the best streets in Africa. You will find homes in Abuja that can fit snugly into Beverly Hills or the French Riviera. (You will also find speed-breakers that will shake your car to its very chassis, and thoroughly roil your innards).

But where are the people to give Abuja colour? Where is the soul of the city? Beautiful houses and wide streets do not give a city character. Structures, leafy, breezy vegetation and plenty of automobiles do not contribute anything towards the emergence of the much touted centre of unity. It is only when Nigerians of all hues can become a part of the new federal capital experience that a centre of unity can emerge.

The only people that remain in Abuja during festivities and public holidays are those that are unable to travel out. Then there are the political exiles – former governors, ministers, senators and other top public officials who are on the losing end of whatever political struggles they may be engaged in back in their home states. For them, Abuja is a safe haven from where they can plot their survival strategies. (There are quite a few former governors wanted by Interpol for whom Abuja remains the last, and some cases only resort).

In the meantime, Abuja remains a landlord’s fairy land. Residential property have been rented out for N25 million per annum, and paid for two years. Majority of public sector workers who man the wheels of government and the bureaucracy are moving further and further out of the city as the cost of rent skyrockets.

A two bedroom apartment in the city centre goes for N1 million. The estate agents demand for two years, in addition to 10 percent agency fees. No civil servant below directorate cadre earns up to a million per annum. So, out they go.

And because efforts to introduce a public transport system have not received sufficient government attention, traffic in Abuja is becoming a nightmare. Very few residents can say ‘see you in 10 minutes’, and keep the promise. Distances than used to be covered in 10 minutes a few years ago can now take upwards of an hour.

So Abuja, already lacking a soul, is fast becoming a jagged jumpy, jungle.

MADAM AND THE MARABOUT

2009-11-26T02:49:00.000-08:00

BY: SALISU SULEIMAN

This is not necessarily a true story, and you believe it at your own peril. Indeed, it is akin to a story that made the rounds towards the end of Late General Abacha’s administration.

The story was to the effect that one of the more celestially ‘connected’ marabouts imported from a neighbouring West African country told Abacha that he had visions of then Major General Abdulsalam Abubakar usurping Abacha’s throne. It was said that the information so worried was Abacha that he had Abdulsalam under intense security watch, on the assumption that the apolitical Minister of Defence may stage a military coup against him.

As it turned out, the marabout was correct. Abdulsalam did take over as Head of State after Abacha’s sudden death. Some even add a bit of drama to the story by claiming that among the first papers the new Head of State saw on the presidential desk was his letter of retirement from the Army, already signed supposedly to forestall the possibility of his ever staging a coup.

Marabouts do foretell many things, but I have never heard of one foretelling a client’s death. (That would not be a good business strategy, if you ask me). And so it was that try as they did, they were unable to determine that Abdulsalam’s ascension to the presidency would be through the death of their client.

A story is now making the rounds to the effect that the current residents of the same House where the Abacha’s lived (there must be something about that house!) have been told by a similar prophecy by a marabout (don’t know if he or she is local breed or imported stuff).

The long and short of the story is that this marabout told them he’s seeing visions of a certain fair bespectacled gentleman taking over the presidency in the not too distant future. Well, there are many bespectacled gentlemen in Nigeria, so that isn’t of much help. The description goes further that ‘this bespectacled gentleman’ is no stranger to the House and is well respected home and abroad, and currently living outside Nigeria.

It was said that the Slumberer-in-Chief naturally snoozed his way through the course of ‘consultations’ as we have discovered to our despair. Not so, the Madam. In ways reminiscent of King Herod and Pharaoh hunting down perceived threats to their kingdoms, the marabouts were asked to narrow down the broad description of this perceived pretender to the ‘throne’. That done, the details uncannily fit a certain bespectacled gentleman those of us with less celestial powers would simply know as Mallam Nuhu....

Again, if you believe this, it is at your own peril, but it is said that Madam (who has reportedly told Chief Slumberer that she would remain in the House beyond 2011, with or without him) asked that Mallam Nuhu be put under close watch (don’t people ever learn?). That is why Nuhu’s surprise visit to Gani’s family so incensed the House.

Some claim Madam was so furious that she actually summoned the Inspector General of Police who said he did not believe the visit took place. (Who blames him? Not all of us have supernatural senses of perception), or what you and me simply know as naked eyes. But many naked eyes did see Nuhu in Lagos.

Anyway, ‘bespectacled gentleman’ Nuhu is a marked man. And those with most to lose are wasting no time in trying to bring him down, or at least make it impossible for him to get a foothold in this kingdom of ours that is governed by the Ruse of Law (and the visions of marabouts). So when a certain former convict with an incredible knack for survival begins to cry wolf; or when a Spouse in the House begins to get convulsions at the mention of spectacles; or when those with bespectacled friends cannot get their passports renewed or their families harassed at airports, we know what feeds the paranoia.

The tragedy of the entire thing is that just like what happened with Abacha (assuming the story is true), marabouts may see visions, but have no way of telling how those visions would come about. So while the security and spiritual warfare against ‘bespectacled gentlemen’ and their friends continue, nobody knows which bespectacled gentleman it is that the marabouts are seeing. After all, there are many bespectacled gentlemen in Nigeria.

I have just booked an appointment with my optometrist and shan’t be coming back without a pair of spectacles, just in case....

WHEN UMARU WAKES UP

2009-11-23T10:56:00.000-08:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

When Umaru wakes up from his soulless, shackled sleep, say to him that the ship of state is on fire and that he should scamper for dear life. Tell him that for two years, the alarm bells have been blaring, the voices of 140 million compatriots screaming, and the entire world joining to shake him awake, but only got the stony silence of indifference.

As soon as Umaru wakes up, tell him that for the secluded seasons he slept, the ship of state has sailed scarily close to a shattering devastation. From creeks of the Delta to the plains of the Savannah, heavens burst and poor earth is dazed, as bullets, bombs and battalions go blasting; body parts and bones blackened and burning; women and children wailing and weeping; everywhere death and destruction, pealing and reeling.

Inform Umaru that while he slept the sleep of the blind and the deaf, his smugness buried the bonds of brotherhood and interred our national fabric in the hell holes of hatred. Tell him our liberties are blinded and bonded to the banks of a brooding bay. Everywhere is darkness, hunger, unemployment and mass nibbling by the mice in the Master Cabin.

When he wakes from his languid, lethargic lapse, tell him that while he laid, buccaneers made away with two of his daughters and that his household is about to be further depleted by another marauder. Tell him about our angst at the wedding that cost billions, and that all states had to rake in gifts that will not be racked in a lifetime.

The moment Umaru wakes up from his two-year siesta, tell him that the electoral reforms he promised in his inaugural address have been shown to be just another pledge of unredeemed promises; his state of emergency in power an optical illusion; his 7 point agenda, the biggest joke in pepper-soup joints.

When slow-motion Umaru drags himself up from his snooze, tell him that the corruption war, if selectively pursued by his predecessor has been completely abandoned. Tell him that for daring to reject a mountain of dollars 15 million high, one of the champions of our times has been chased out of the police, and run out of the country. Shame on them who slight all semblance of simple sense.

Don’t forget to tell him when he awakes from his chartless, careless catnap that his rule of law mantra has been found to be the biggest ruse in the country’s political history. All those who believed it have been terribly short-changed, and now rue the ruse in the rule. Tell Umaru that the brigandage in Ekiti demonstrated that though sound asleep, his signature was stamped all over the entire sham that took ten thousand police to steal a hundred thousand votes.

Just as soon as the Recluse awakens from his sightless slumber, inform him that the strong-willed one that made Abuja livable for his buccaneer friends and fiends who cannot travel abroad for fear of Interpol, and who cannot go back to their states for fear of lynching is facing trumped-up charges under the ruse of law. Tell him justice is for the highest bidder.

Tell the Slumberer-in-Chief that while he was dizzy, madam has been busy; the enormous appetite she is said to carry and consequently, the colossal capital she is claimed to have cornered. Mention also about the vast killing she is said to have made on naira devaluation with a drowned pirate who held fort at the central vaults. Remind him that prodigal nature will take us all away and the billions will of no use to the dead.

Do not forget to mention to Umaru when he wakes up from the sleep the unhearing, the unseeing and the unfeeling that the entire public university system has shut down. Inform him that even as this was going on, his fifty-something year old minister of education broke MC Hammer’s record on gyrations. As an aside, ask him if he has children in public schools.

Tell Umaru that everyday, the blood of our countrymen drain our highways, as body parts are hacked out of vehicles from accidents that occur because roads do not exist. Tell him that the craters he met have changed to crevasses. Wonder aloud about the whereabouts of a certain Mr. Fix It. We hear he has been handsomely re-armed to fix the ports.

If Umaru raises even an eyelid, tell him that his sheep have abandoned ship, and that he is all on his own in this phantom ship. Tell him that hiding his head like the ostrich in the ground and pretending to sleep will not make the challenges go away. Tell him that his Seven Points resemble the Seven Voyages of Captain Sinbad – interesting, intriguing, engaging, and a voucher to human aspirations for struggle and self improvement - but ultimately, a work of fiction.

Tell him that unlike the great adventurer, he has not been at the helm of the Nigerian voyage, just a tired, seasick deck-hand. Energy, agriculture, education, wealth creation (whatever that means), land reforms, health and transport; all we see is a badly written work of fiction. But tell him that the pain we feel, the poverty we see, the misery and the tragedy we live with are not fictional, but real.

Tell him that since he has no clues about governance, no courage to accept failure and no visions about our future, he should stop pretending to be asleep. Just tell him to carry his sleeping mat and leave the Villa. Then perhaps, Nigeria might awaken from the unending nightmare.

Comical Ali, Comical Soludo

2009-11-19T11:04:00.000-08:00

Baghdad, 2003. The American invasion was in full-force. The entire might of the US military had just been unleashed on Saddam Hussein’s forces. Everywhere, shells, bombs and missiles were exploding as the US war machine rolled across Iraq.

Mohammed Said al-Sahhaf, the Iraqi Information Minister told the world: "Now, even the American command is under siege. We are hitting it from the north, east, south and west…at the end we are the people who are laying siege to them. And it is not them who are besieging us."

A few days later, the Americans took control of the Baghdad International Airport. Al-Sahhaf responded: "They're coming to surrender or be burned in their tanks…no I am not scared, and neither should you be!" "Be assured, we have them surrounded in their tanks". A short while later: "We have retaken the airport. There are NO Americans there. I will take you there and show you. IN ONE HOUR!"

Any apparent American gains, he said, were a cunning ploy by the Iraqis to lure the enemy into a trap. "Our armed forces, according to their tactics, are leaving the way open". "Whenever we attack, they retreat. When we pound them with missiles and heavy artillery, they retreat even deeper. But when we stopped pounding, they pushed to the airport for propaganda purposes.''

Even as US forces were approaching the Iraqi capital, al-Sahhaf insisted, ‘they're not even [within] 100 miles [of Baghdad]. They are not in any place. They hold no place in Iraq. This is an illusion ... today I have visited whole Baghdad city, no invaders found. You go and see how we have ousted them from this city. They are outside and waiting to receive bullets. They will be killed shortly…the situation is excellent, they are going to try to approach Baghdad...and I believe their grave will be there."

And when the Americans had taken control of the city, al-Sahhaf claimed that there were no American troops in Baghdad, and that the Americans were committing suicide by the hundreds at the city's gates. At that time, American tanks were patrolling the streets only a few hundred meters from the location where the press conference was held. ‘Be assured, Baghdad is safe, protected." "After we finish defeating all of those animals we will disclose that with facts and figures." "There are only two American tanks in the city." "We are winning!"

The Minister was dubbed "Comical Ali" for his deadpan insistence that Iraqi forces were crushing the invading Americans. He refused to retract his wartime claims, saying only that his reports came from "authentic sources. Comical Ali has since become a symbol for corporate and other communications that stubbornly refuse to acknowledge facts. Much of the information given by al-Sahhaf during the war was clearly inaccurate.

Al-Sahhaf held daily press briefings during the Iraqi War, and his colourful appearances gave him the nickname Baghdad Bob. His obstinate denial of any Iraqi setbacks, even in the face of indisputable proof caused him to be named Comical Ali, (an allusion to Chemical Ali, the nickname of Saddam’s former Defence Minister, Ali Hassan al-Majid).

So deadpan serious was Comical Ali with his claims that even the Iraqi military was itself fooled. After the information minister claimed that Iraqi forces had retaken the Baghdad airport from U.S. troops, a commander was dispatched to check out a rumor that four or five American tanks had survived the Iraqi counterattack. He returned to his headquarters in a panic. "Four or five tanks!'' he told his fellow generals. “Are you out of your minds? The whole damn American Army is at the airport!”

Nigeria, 2008-09. When the stock market was beginning to slow down and spiral out of control, Soludo assured Nigerians that there was no cause for alarm. When the global economic crisis was gathering space, Soludo again assured us that Nigeria had enough foreign reserves to withstand the shock. When observers raised concern about the health of Nigerian banks, Soludo said his consolidation of the banks was working miracles and the banks were in good shape.

After the reality of the occupation sunk in, Comical Ali was proved to be a master of deception. In an interview after the war, he said, “the information was correct, but the interpretations were not. I did my duty up to the last minute”.

In the aftermath of the meltdown of the Nigerian stock market, dwindling foreign exchange earnings, devaluation of the naira and uncertain state of our banks, I am beginning to think Comical Ali, Comical Soludo….

ILIYA, the Almajiri

2009-10-15T09:42:00.000-07:00

He was about 12 or 13, good looking, intelligent, hardworking and smart.

He was confident and likeable. From his appearance, it was impossible to distinguish him from a boy of similar age from a well-off family; perhaps a secondary school student, just becoming self-conscious. But Iliya was an almajiri, sent by his parents from Kebbi State to study with an Islamic teacher in Zaria.

For a number of years, he was a permanent feature around the Post Graduate hostel at the Ahmadu Bello University's Kongo Campus.

Because he was much smarter than other almajirai, he was able to secure a kind of ‘work permit' from the security staff and the hall managers to come and go as he pleased. I suspect the street-wise Iliya passed on tips in return for this privilege. He even had a mobile phone via which one could send him on errands.

Thus, he ran more errands than other almajirai, washed more cars, fetched more water and as a consequence, got more tips from the marginally better-off postgraduate students. We all called him Iliya. Being curious, I one day asked him to tell me his story.

I had no idea that the pleasant demeanor was a façade to swathe stories of sinking sadness. Iliya tells very sad stories.

Iliya told me how, at the age of five or six, his father entrusted him to the teacher in Zaria to be taught the Quran, law, jurisprudence and other areas of study in Islam. His father had left the day after he met his teacher, and that was the last time he saw any member of his family.

The memories of his mother, brothers and sisters still haunted him, and he missed them sorely. But being a smart kid, he was able to deal with those challenges. He was confident of completing his studies and returning home to Kebbi.

It is the stories Iliya tells of less fortunate almajirai that that are most disturbing. He told me candidly, about an almajiri who was knocked down by a car while begging for alms on his first day on the streets.

He sustained a fracture on his leg, but was never taken to hospital He was treated by a local bone setter, but due to poor care, the bone didn't set properly, and the leg became gangrenous. It was amputated, ironically, at the same hospital to which they had failed to go.

From him, I heard the story of another almajiri who used to run errands for a ‘kind' man neighour. The kind man lured the poor boy with money and food and eventually began to sodomize him. And because the poor boy needed the food, he was silent about the abuse and it went on over a long period. The man fell ill and died.

Not long after, the almajiri also fell ill and died. The man's relatives later confirmed that he died of kanjamau (AIDS). Many other boys suffered this fate.

My friend, Iliya, told me the story of another boy who went out to beg and was never seen alive again. After searching fruitlessly for over a week, it was assumed he had run away to another town. But a few days later, the boy's bloated body was found at a dump.

His eyes had been forcefully removed and his sexual organs were missing. He had fallen victim to ‘ritualists'. No one knows how many more have ended up in the same way.

Another story I heard from Iliya was about other almajirai who were ‘hired' out to blind men as guides. Rather than be taught as their parents hoped, these boys hired out to go to places as far as Lagos, Ibadan, Enugu, Abuja, and Aba with their blind masters.

The story I found most shocking, here, was that of the almajiri, who after spending the whole day weaving through traffic, would then lead his blind master to a bar where he was plied with alcohol and sodomized.

Though this particular pair was eventually caught, how many more are getting away with this form of base exploitation?

He also told me the story of another that was killed in a big city during a recent ethno-religious conflict. Since almajirai were often half mad with hunger, it was very easy for them to engage in mindless violence, especially under a religious pretext.

They usually had no idea who they were attacking, and many times killed or maimed as many Muslims as they did Christians. It was just violence for the sake of violence because, he told me, non-Muslims sometimes treated them better than Muslims.

Another significant thing Iliya told me was about those that graduated from studies before him. He told me that because they had spent years learning only Islamic education, they lacked the practical skills required in the real world to contribute meaningfully to modern society, or even to earn a livelihood.

They become additional burdens on the community and ended up as commercial motorcyclists, cobblers, itinerant manicurists, security men and hawkers of everything under the sun.

But the most interesting thing about Iliya was his ability to discern, and voice the opinion that the whole ‘almajirai' system was antiquated, distorted, unproductive, and indeed, contrary to the real teachings of Islam.

Nowhere did Islam teach that parents should send out their children (or anyone) to beg. Nowhere is it stated that pupils who are supposed to be learning should go out and beg for alms or food.

Islam teaches that it is the duty of parents to take care of their children (and the children of family and neighbors), and not dodge responsibility by sending them far away in the name of education.

It is the duty of parents to not only educate their children, but provide them with the opportunities to develop practical skills required to function in today's modern world. The almajirci system as practiced is a negation of these teachings of Islam.

The story of Iliya is a cry for help, not only for other almajirai like himself, but for the many divorcees and orphans, the aged, the incapacitated, the handicapped as well as the millions of unskilled, unemployed, and unemployable people, especially in the North.

It is a call to re-evaluate our intrinsic values and our humanity. It is a call to take bold steps.

HILLARY CLINTON’S REAL MESSAGE TO NIGERIANS

2009-08-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

By: salisu suleiman
Commentators have had a field day analyzing the essence of Hillary Clinton’s speech at the Abuja Town Hall Meeting. Her speech so irked the PDP that it took paid adverts to denounce her statements. Such is the banality of politics in Nigeria today that the ruling party is taking issues with America’s top diplomat in the media. But that is another matter.

Forget that she reminded us that the poverty rate in Nigeria has gone up from 46 percent to 76 percent over the last 13 years. Forget that she attributed the failure to corruption, lack of capacity or mismanagement, or that the World Bank recently concluded that Nigeria has lost well over $300 billion during the last three decades to corruption. None of that is new.

We do not need Mrs. Clinton to remind us of the wasted $300 billion or the fact that ‘they don’t tell you how many hospitals and roads could have been built. They don’t tell you how many schools could have opened, or how many more Nigerians could have attended college, or how many mothers might have survived childbirth if that money had been spent differently’.

The most important message she delivered to Nigerians is: ‘we recognize … that Nigeria is at a crossroads, and it is imperative that citizens be engaged and that civic organizations be involved in helping to chart the future of this great nation’. Her message is that ‘the future of Nigeria is up to the Nigerians’.

What Mrs. Clinton was saying in essence is that Nigerians must rise up to the challenge and address the tragedy of leadership we are confronted with. As she stated, ‘the most immediate source of the disconnect between Nigeria’s wealth and its poverty is a failure of governance at the local, state, and federal level’. Are we willing to fight for change?

She is right to assert that ‘without good governance, no amount of oil or no amount of aid, no amount of effort can guarantee Nigeria’s success. But with good governance, nothing can stop Nigeria’. The question is: where are the ones to rise up to the challenges of ensuring good governance? She stated her belief that civil society has a very big job to do and by civil society, she included all of the organizations that are formed by citizens, the NGOs, the faith-based groups, everyone working together.

Clinton’s message is that to change our country, ‘there need to be watchdog groups to push for transparency. There need to be journalists, who will shine a bright light on any abuses of the public trust or those who would enrich themselves at the expense of Nigeria’s citizens; independent courts and prosecutors, institutions to punish wrongdoers and deter future wrongdoing; citizens who persist and persevere often against long odds’. We must all rise up to the challenge.

So as we continue to digest the essence our Mrs. Clinton’s message, we need to begin to situate the challenge of governance within the existing context and mobilize for change. We must confront the state of roads that cannot be driven on; water that is laced with disease; rivers that are glazed with waste; millions of people with no work to do; elected officials that steal us blind and their unelected relatives that rob us to starvation point.

To change our country for good, we must rise up with courage to declare that the time has come be rid of the monstrous burden of a despotic, directionless and diabolic leadership. We must be the ones to confront the tragedy of tyranny that has been our lot and restore Nigeria to its ultimate destiny.

True, our backs are broken, our dreams stolen, our resolve molten. But we must ask: Where are those to fight to change? Who will tell Nigerians that dying in silence would be a great betrayal of our heritage? Are Nigerians ready to fight for true liberation? Are we ready to wrestle our fate from with the motley that claim to be Africa’s biggest party; but have reduced governance to a banal cabal who only pledge the perpetual pillaging of public property for private purpose?

As Hillary Clinton rightly pointed out, ‘no matter how much President Obama and I want this future for you, it will be up to you to decide whether it happens or not. You are the ones with both the opportunity and the responsibility. But I want you to know, as you walk this path to a stronger democracy that produces results for your people to lift the development of Nigeria up, that you will have us by your side’.

If we are not ready to take up the challenge, the essence of her message would have been lost.

THE POLICE IS NOT YOUR FRIEND

2009-08-08T06:34:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

The cold-blooded murder (euphemistically, extra judicial killing) by the police of the leaders of the Boko Haram sect, hardly comes as a surprise to those familiar with the law enforcement and justice system in Nigeria. Before copying the American ‘Service with Integrity’, the official police slogan was ‘Fire for Fire’. It would be foolhardy to expect friendship from a force that fires before asking questions.

Along with the police, the judiciary is central to the administration of justice. The federal and states Ministries of Justice, Legal Aid Council, to the National Judicial Institute, to the Law Reform Commission, the National Judicial Council, various courts of law up to the Supreme Court are part of the overall machinery of law enforcement and administration in Nigeria.

Most Nigerians denounce the failures of the executive and the legislative arms of government especially with the return of what we like to equate with democracy in 1999. But has the judiciary fared any better, or made a positive impact on the country? How about law enforcement and the administration of justice in Nigeria? Is our country truly governed by the rule of law?

As demonstrated by the killing of the Boko Haram members, the Nigeria police routinely shoot unarmed suspects without trial. How many drivers and passengers have been shot dead by police trying to extract N20, and what has happened to the officers who did the killings? What has been heard of the famous Apo Six, cruelly murdered by the police in cold blood a few years ago? Some Nigerians would rather run into real armed robbers on highways than run into desperate policemen. The former may rob you and leave you alive. If you are robbed by the police, you are as good as dead.

The Nigeria police was established as a coercive arm of the British colonialists and it is yet to free itself of that mentality. The language it speaks best is the language of force and violence. For the police, it is always ‘we’ against ‘them’. Similarly, criminal law in the country is mostly antiquated. The penal code was drafted in 1903, and bears little or no bearing to the social realities in Nigeria today. Our Arbitration laws are so outdated that legal practitioners prefer to take arbitration cases to other countries. Despite the advancements witnessed in the medical sciences in the last half century, the country’s Pharmacy Act has not changed in the nearly 50 years. Forensic science is primeval. Despite the fact that DNA evidence is regarded as nearly 100 percent accurate, it hardly appears anywhere in our statues.

By international convention of 1 policeman to every 140 people, the country has a huge deficit of police officers. Nigeria needs at least 1 million policemen, but we have only about 300,000. Most of them are ill-trained, ill-equipped, naturally ill-tempered, and very prone to ‘accidental discharges’. The Public prosecution mechanism is almost infantile. Police corporals and sergeants with little or no legal knowledge prosecute cases in our courts.

Similarly, our prisons are jammed beyond the brim. Prisons built to hold two or three hundred now hold thousands. First time (and sometimes innocent offenders) are locked up in the same prison cells with convicted murderers and armed robbers. There are hardly any modern, functional juvenile facilities in the country. There are few, if any prisoner reform programs to ensure that incarcerated persons not only get education and vocational skills, but come out as better citizens upon their release. At the moment, even the shortest stint in jail is equivalent to a degree in crime and the operations of the criminal underworld. Rather than reform, our prisons actually train criminals.

Private legal practitioners also have a role to play in improving the judiciary and the administration of the criminal justice system. It has been alleged that lawyers representing rich and powerful clients often bribe judges to obtain favorable rulings. It was reported recently that a SAN is being paid N35 million to defend a suspect in a murder case. By any standards, that is plenty of money. And plenty of money can buy plenty of black coats. And black robes. It is alleged.

It seems that the worse crime one can commit in this country is the crime of poverty. The Legal Aid Council is supposed to work as the Office of the Public Defender, but with thousands of indigent defendants in jail for crimes for which they plead innocence, one is forced to question the effectiveness of that body. People have been known to spend years awaiting trial for crimes that if convicted, the penalty may be a couple of months in prison, or even a fine. Save for a few religious bodies, pro bono is not a concept that many Nigerian lawyers agree with. And so for not being able to afford legal representation, our jails are chocked with persons accused of stealing fowls, goats, tubers of yam and other mundane items.

If anyone tells you that the police is your friend, run. If anyone tells you that our country is governed by the rule of law, run even faster. No one condones crime, but it seems that in Nigeria, if you want to commit a crime, do not steal a useless fowl, hungry goat, or tattered pair of shoes. Do not steal a bottle of palm oil or a loaf of bread. That would land you in jail for 10 years or more without trial, or a bullet in your back for ‘attempting to escape’. Grab a couple of billions. With that, and with the police and the ruse of law, you would be guaranteed a quick release (if charged at all) and an apology from the state for violating your human rights.

Village of the Empty Wells

2009-08-04T03:49:00.001-07:00

You may not remember me, but I am the oldest woman in the Village of the Empty Wells. The last well in the village is about to dry up and I must make my arrangements. I know that when that last well dries up, my time is up. I shall sit down with my daughter and dictate my dirge. In my funeral song, I shall ask many questions. I shall ask questions that will be my long arm from my dry, dusty grave.

When the last spring in my land can bring forth no more water, I shall ask them what crime I committed that condemned me to a life to drudgery and despair. I shall ask them why they made so many promises but kept so very little. My ears ring with news of monies I can not begin to imagine. They tell me a trillion naira was pumped in the last 10 years to give us water. The only drops of water are see are when the clouds weep with despair on my dry, dusty dungeon.

I want to know why in a generation, the only change I see is that I trudge to fetch water with earthenware, while my daughters trek to fetch water with plastic ware. I shall seek to know why they built a mighty dam 20 miles away from the Village of the Empty Wells, but refuse to give us drinking water. I shall ask them why they took over my ancestral farmlands to build the dam that is of no use to anyone and for they refused to pay any compensation. My ancestors still rage at that sacrilege.

When the river squeezes out its very last drop, and my herds can eke out nothing to moisten their tongues with, I know the end of my ancestral birthplace has come forth. So in my requiem, I shall seek to know what happened to the trillion spent to give me water I cannot see, nor scent. I shall ask why they diverted my ancestral stream to feed the dam that is of no use to anyone in the Village of the Empty Wells.

In my litany of lament, I shall ask why they condemned my daughters and I to walking several miles each day, to fetch brackish, muddy water that give us typhoid, cholera and dysentery. I will demand answers to why they let my sons drink water from the river from which they get guinea worm that leaves them useless for farm work. I shall ask why they let our husbands go blind from river blindness for which the white man provided aid.

My funeral chant will spare no one. My long arm from the grave shall seek to know why my nephew who fled the Village of the Empty Wells for the city still ended up on the fringes of a city with no water. He tells me he buys every single drop of water in jerry cans. He fled the village for lack of water, and ended up in the city with no water. I walk many miles to fetch diseased water; he uses hard-earned money to buy diseased water. The oasis he sought turned out to a mirage of misery.

My lamentation shall seek answers to why a land that is blessed with so much water and so much rainfall cannot give me water to drink. They must explain why my country has about 200 dams of all sizes, but water-borne diseases still kill so many. I shall ask about the charade of years ago, when they brought the whole world to inaugurate a borehole filled with water from a tanker. The flow of water stopped with the dum-dum of the drums. It is now just another empty well in a village many empty wells.

From the million miles of misery that is my lot, my back is bent, my feet calloused, my neck in unending pain. But I refused to be cowed. I shall ask them why they stole so much just so they can pamper their palates with French bottled water, while my grand children choke their ways to this world on murky, muddy waters. When my time is up, the courage that eluded me for a lifetime will converge to give me courage. And with my new found courage, I shall ask plenty of questions.

When the last well in my Village of the Empty Wells dries up, I shall spare no one. With my lone voice from the shallow sands that shall shortly swallow me, my funeral song shall say to them: only if there was no death; only if there was no ill health; only if they had gold in their breath; only if there was no end to the earth; only then would I envy vast their wealth. In time, I shall welcome them to the dry, dusty dead earth.

LIKE BOLT IN ABUJA?

2009-07-28T02:24:00.000-07:00

Salisu Suleiman
At the height of the face-off between business moguls Aliko Dangote and Femi Otedola over the AP(African Petroleum) affair, the former was invited to the National Assembly to give evidence on the matter. Afterwards, he told pressmen that he honored the invitation out of the immense respect he had for the lawmakers, because according to him, he had a ‘running stomach’.

For Dangote, a ‘running’ stomach in Abuja is a minor irritant because he can afford the do his ‘biological’ business at any of his homes or at the 5 star hotels in the city. Even our Senators would have gladly let him do his business at their chambers. And if he chose to do it at the Villa, there would have been little objection. After all, he just ‘dropped’ a billion naira into Madam Turai Yar’Adua’s fund raising kitty for her cancer centre.

But what about the average resident or visitor to the city who is afflicted with a case of ‘running’ stomach? Many of the city’s dwellers can hardly point out the locations of public conveniences, and visitors, even less.

So it would be a tragedy of major proportions to eat something disagreeable in Abuja; if that happens, and your stomach decides to give you the runs, you better get running! The quick-thinking may walk into any public office or even bank, pretending to have business there and smoothly ask for the convenience. But many people who reside outside the city and come in everyday to earn their living just find the nearest bush (and oftentimes, just off the main roads) to do their ‘business’. Taking a stroll in some parts of the city can be an ordeal; your sense of decency is insulted and your sense of smell assaulted by assorted smells.

Abuja, just two years ago was a model city. Now it is becoming a huge ‘crap yard’. You may not agree with its former minister Nasir el-Rufai, but no one can deny that he did what he was appointed to do (which is more than we can say for most public servants in this country). Without his monumental efforts in cleaning up Abuja and restoring the master plan, the city would be a jungle today. Maybe foreign embassies would have started relocating to Ghana.

But as is usual with Nigeria, rather than continue from where he stopped - perhaps we would have gotten to the level where public conveniences, pedestrian bridges, multi-level car parks and other common infrastructure would dot the city now - the succeeding minister embarked on Operation Abuja Boulevard Typically emblematic of the policy inconsistency of government in Nigeria, the last minister of the FCT, Dr. Aliyu Modibbo embarked on the Abuja Boulevard as his major mantra. He went about it with prophetic zeal and even got the Federal Executive Council to approve the commencement of the project.

Banks, financial institutions and institutional investors mobilised to participate in what, ultimately would have been one of the largest public-private partnership projects in Nigeria.

No sooner was he relieved of his job did the project disappear from the radar. Since the change of baton at the ministry, not a word has been heard from the current minister. Was the project personal to the former minister? Has the project been removed from the Abuja Master plan along with the former minister and chief proponent?

At least, Dr. Modibbo had a dream. Who can tell what the vision of the present administration is? Beyond the normal rhetoric of political office holders, the public has no idea what direction Abuja is heading. Perhaps, the FCT minister is emulating the Recluse of the Seven Points without an agenda. Too well, you might say.

The fact of the matter is, even those who lost property under el Rufai knew deep in their hearts that Abuja became a better place to live. That is the kind of price we must be ready to pay if we demand a better society. Not all soldiers who go to war come back alive, but their sacrifice would ensure the security of the living. That analogy applies to Abuja.

So for those who made painful sacrifices and even ordinary residents, to see Abuja falling into rot and decay once again is a sobering sight. Of what use is a ten lane highway into a city where you cannot take a stroll for fear of ‘biological’ warfare, or where you have to beat Usain Bolt to cross a street?

The African Marketplace

2009-07-24T04:14:00.000-07:00

After my trip to the marketplace, I settled down for a meal of rice that at least wasn’t Chinese; this was Thai. After I finished my meal with a big belch, I saw staring at me from my dish, the symbol of the new African marketplace: Made in China.

See the rest on:
http://www.234next.com/csp/cms/sites/Next/Opinion/Blogs/5438726-146/The_African_Marketplace___.csp

OMOIGUI: These Tax Methods Are Oppressive

2009-07-17T02:44:00.000-07:00

Fiscal policy is manifested in a government’s policies on taxation and expenditures to not only provide goods and services for constituents, but with direct impact on the economy such as in promoting economic growth and reducing poverty. All over the world, the goals of fiscal policy are the same and can be summarized to include (1) Employment creation ; (2) Price stability in the economy; (3) Curbing inflation; (4) External equilibrium; (5) Economic growth and development and; (6) Income distribution.

(Due largely to your support, my blog in now on NEXT. Pls read the rest of this article on:
http://www.234next.com/csp/cms/sites/Next/Opinion/Blogs/5437168-184/OMOIGUI:_These_tax_methods_are_oppressive.csp)

THANKS!

IBB: When a General Surrenders

2009-07-06T02:24:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

Perhaps no single Nigerian has ever wielded as much power and influence as did General Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida during the eight years he held sway as military president. There was a period when he dissolved the Armed Forces Ruling Council. He held fort alone. For another few weeks, he was away to France for medical treatment without a whimper from any quarters. Those were heady days for the General.

Historically, it is somewhat tricky to place the legacy of IBB. Until the return in 1999 of the warped process we call democracy in Nigeria, General Babangida’s regime was the most corrupt in the minds of many. He was accused of reducing governance to the distribution and redistribution of public offices to settle acolytes, and was master of the game of placation by ‘settlement’. Solarin and Soyinka should suffice.

However, events from 1999 till date have shown IBB and even Abacha to be saints in the cesspit of corruption that is Nigeria. The last 10 years produced state governors that are wealthier than IBB can ever hope to be. So on the corruption index, there is nothing outstanding about the man. Indeed, some relatively minor operatives can match the General dollar for dollar, maybe even leave him broke. (You did not hear me say Nnamdi).

During his tenure, he introduced policies that very nearly crippled the Nigerian economy. But to be fair to him, he had a retinue of experts around, including Kalu Idika Kalu, Chu Okongwu, Jibril Aminu, Babs Fafunwa, Olikoye Ransome Kuti, Rilwan Lukman, Tunji Olagunju, among many others. Though responsibility for his government’s failed policies lie with him, it must be shared with these ‘experts’. On the other hand, given the catastrophic failures and policy inconsistencies (say, power sector) we have witnessed in the last decade, IBB is beginning to appear like a messiah.

In the judgment of history, all of the above sins of IBB might have been forgiven had he not annulled the June 12, 1993 elections. After the longest and most tortuous transition to democracy on record, to then annul the results of June 12 was his greatest undoing, and the longest dagger in the heart of Nigeria. My kinsmen defeated Tofa in Kano State for Abiola; Nigerians overwhelmingly elected a Moslem-Moslem ticket. To then dump that defining moment in the dustbin of history and return Nigeria to religious and ethnic politics was a blow from which we are yet to recover.

But again, the disaster of the 2003 and the catastrophe of the 2007 elections threaten to pale June 12 into insignificance. June 12 was an election without a president. 2007 brought a president without an election. IBB has been bested on the corruption index. His record on democracy has been shattered by his sparring partner Aremu. He has been overtaken in the area of poor policy and implementation by Umaru. What is the one outstanding thing that IBB would be remembered for?

For many years after leaving office, his Minna hilltop mansion was a beehive of ceaseless activity and a political Mecca of sorts. But IBB’s systematic deconstruction began with his fatal decision to ‘drag’ old soldier Aremu to the presidency. In one of the greatest political ironies of our time, the courage of then Colonel IBB helped abort the Dimka coup attempt and brought Obasanjo to office in 1976. In 1998-99, now retired General IBB helped bring Obasanjo to office as president. The irony here is that Aremu, twice helped into office by IBB, twice prevented IBB from taking over the same office in 2003 and 2007.

That IBB wanted to return to office in 2003 after a 10 year hiatus was never in doubt. That he saw 2007 as another opportunity was never in question. And also that Aremu destroyed both possibilities is well established. Thus, the hilltop mansion suddenly ghostly. The political opportunists who saw IBB as a veritable ticket to office suddenly disappeared. The route to power no more had a detour at Minna. And so the General surrendered.

But the deconstruction of IBB is only just beginning. Having been run out of the presidential race by Aremu, he could not even influence who became governor of his state. It would have been difficult to imagine a state governor, much less a lowly aid joining issues with IBB in public. But that is exactly what is happening today. Similarly, not many people remember that IBB stopped then candidate Umaru Musa Yar’adua from becoming governor of Katsina in 1991, or that IBB in fact created Katsina State in 1987. That same Umaru was is now President. A lesson in life. (But then, given the latter’s performance in two years, perhaps the wily General saw what many did not).

So what happens when a General surrenders? Today IBB is a glorified presence in weddings, funerals and other social events. The adoring crowds are gone, the political acolytes on the run and his influence largely worn. In a classic twist of fortune, the same fate that befell IBB has befallen his greatest traducer, Aremu. Both retired Generals have become glorified invitees at minor social events. Both are licking largely self inflicted wounds from battles they had no reason to fight. That is what happens when Generals try to play God.

AREWA: TRAGEDY OF LEADERSHIP

2009-07-04T03:23:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

In the east of the Sudan is a vast territory called Arewa. It is peopled by hundreds of ethnic groups with rich history and culture. The two major religions of the people of this land are Islam and Christianity, with animists in various locations. Though some of it’s of provinces are at the edge of the great Sahara, it is a land of many rivers, lakes, springs and rich farmlands. It is a land of open prairie, hills and lakes, rich in vegetation and animal life.

The people of the land of Arewa are hardworking, tolerant and usually laugh at some of life’s follies even at the worst of times. The land has the human and material resources to sustain the highest standards of living comparable to anywhere in the world. At a time, it seemed that it was only a matter of time before the arrival of a great new nation was announced to the rest of the world.

But Arewa is afflicted with one great tragedy – it has no leaders. This is a self inflicted tragedy because in the beginning, the first set of leaders under the Sardauna led by example. From all the provinces, Arewa’s leaders were totally dedicated to the good of the people and growth of the land. Though of varied ethnicities and religions, they lived and worked together as one. The intrepid Kano trader found accommodation everywhere. The fearsome Jukun and the Zuru men found natural habitats in the Army. The Nupe man had settlements everywhere.

At a time, the Kabba man could aspire to any position. The migratory Fulani took his cattle everywhere. The hardworking Igala took his labor to every province. The Kanuri man with his fearsome daggers was respected everywhere. The Tiv man had no problems with his neighbors. The Katsina scholar and the Kano merchant; the Jaba farmer and the Idoma farmer; the princes of great kingdoms and the natives from smaller fiefdoms; all found accommodation and acceptance wherever they went.

Then a calamity struck Arewa. Its selfless leaders where killed in that calamity, and it became obvious that the new set of leaders were incapable of producing the selfless dedication of its forebears. On the table where the Sardauna had his meals with Muslims and Christians, the new leaders could not eat together. On the platforms where the old leaders campaigned for the good of the entire land, cracks of ethnicity began to appear. Unity, it seemed, had died with the old leaders. But it did not die a natural death. It was murdered by the cold calculations of a cruel cartel whose only craving was to cart off public property for private pockets.

Arewa continued to deteriorate. The Igala man who found work and acceptance in Kano was no more a son of the soil. The Fulani with his cattle became targets wherever he took his herd. The children of the Kano trader who founded a settlement in Benue could no more get scholarships. The Ebira man in Zaria had to go back to Okene to get a certificate of indigene. On the Plateau, the Hausa-Fulani whose grand father was born there suddenly became a settler. The Christians who found accommodation in Sokoto became strangers. The Moslem call to prayer, long accepted became major irritants in Christian communities.

But the tragedy of Arewa continues. The fuels fanning the flames of these fratricidal feuds are fired not by the common man of Arewa who has no problems with his Moslem, Christian or animist neighbors, but by the leaders elected to unify them. All that the common man wants is an opportunity for honest work to feed his family and train his children. He wants a market for his farm produce, hospitals when ill, schools for his children and security of life and property. But even these basics of life were too much to expect. He got none of these, just the constant call to hatred that has become the anthem of Arewa’s tragedy of leadership.

Worse still, even at local levels, hatred is being spread by the vermin that call themselves leaders. But the worst tragedy of all is that after getting into office, these walking tragedies go on to set the worst possible records in governance and administration. The major objective is to divide and loot. In Zamfara was a bearded one who plied the people with lies of a spiritual sort to get to office. That was his only achievement. In the backwaters of Taraba was a charlatan who called himself pastor and ruled for 10 years. Ten wasted years. On the hilltops of the Plateau is another whose sole purpose is a murderous hatred for those of a different ilk. The hills are now in a state of permanent emergency.

For eight years, a comedian held sway in the northern area called Jigawa. Many thought he would put his mathematical mind to good use and lift the state out of poverty. His most famous achievement was weeping in public, surrounded by his wives in court. I still imagine what N10.4 billion can do for Jigawa. In the area called Bauchi is he that was genuinely elected by the people. After two years, his most famous achievement is consummating Nigeria’s most expensive marriage to a presidential daughter.

Also for eight years, one pranced around in the food basket. Today, there is neither food nor a basket anywhere in the state. In the power state was another whose major achievement was providing provisions for those who had everything at the expense of those who had nothing. And at the centre of the tragedy is the recluse of the seven points without an agenda. Secluded in his Villa, he has reduced governance to a cabal of the banal with no ideas and no ideals save a mindless, ceaseless pillaging of public property for private purpose.

But the time has come. The time has come for the common man of Arewa to see through the ruse of a ruling class that seeks to divide and loot; it is time to ask questions; time to agree that no progress can be made if we refuse to see beyond religion and ethnicity. We must begin to ask how many children of the ruling elite were killed in ethnic and religious crises. We must see that the ruling only elite seek to grow hatred in our hearts, illiteracy in our heads and poverty in our lives, so that they can maintain their heartless hegemony over us, and that of their children over our children.

When we see these things in clear perspective, we will destroy the devils and despots that call themselves our leaders, arrest the tragedy of leadership we are faced with today, and together, regardless of tribe, religion and background, restore Arewa and Nigeria to the greatness it deserves. The time has come.

BEFORE TURAI BECOMES PRESIDENT

2009-07-02T08:51:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

If you think this is sheer speculation, remember that dark horses are hardly seen emerging from the night. Did Shagari, whose greatest ambition was to be a Senator, not become President? Did Aremu, whose only wish was to be freed from Yola Prisons, not become President? Is Umaru, the recluse from the remote not President? If you think Turai’s ascension (or either of her sons in-laws) to the Presidency is improbable, open your eyes very wide. And your ears. The contest for 2011 is a complex context.

But before Turai becomes President, be reminded of the promises that came with democracy. After decades of brutality by brothers in khaki, we were told that the end of thievery by the military over. We were told that the days of governance without purpose were over. We believed we would be beneficiaries of social processes and governments dedicated to selfless service, collective approaches to societal challenges on issues of growth and development. We were not told that democracy would become a big, black burden.

So before Turai becomes President, recall we were told democracy would give us freedom, but got chains. We were promised progress, but returned to the dark ages. Where we expected bread, it fed fat on our hungers. While we prayed for hope, it grew on our fears. When we dared to cry, silence was decreed by beasts in black bearing big batons. We never thought democracy would become a family club.

Before First Lady becomes First Citizen, please recall that some in the Diaspora came back home with ambitions in their hearts. They came back home with greenbacks in their bags. They came back home with ideas and ideals. They parted ways with hosts to locate long lost homes. But the democracy they see is of a different hue. They see freedom supported by chains. No one expected the burden of democracy to be this heavy.

Before that familial change of guards, remember that many of us stayed back because they believed the promises we were plied with to fight familiar fears. With the flagstones of democracy, we laid the road to the path of our collective futures, slow in recognizing the entrenchment of potholes of ruthless greed and reckless conduct. We never envisaged that the dividends democracy will only be reaped by one class, the burden borne by the other.

They promised the rule of law, but what we see is the ruse of law and a tactless tag-team of government striving to surpass the other in deceit and double-speak. We look on with heart wrenching despair as the simple virtues of honesty, transparency and accountability are locked up as democracy’s prisoners. We cannot protest when starvation becomes food for the masses, though we were promised democracy would put food on our tables. We got a democracy burdened by the theft of our votes and our voices.

We were promised balms to sooth our open wounds, but are no more than pawns to placate foreign powers. Ask my cousins in Bakassi. We were promised homes with proper roofs, yet our children are born under naked stars. We have seen none of those promises - not a whiff, not a whisker. The rule of law they gave us is held up by brutish beasts bearing batons, and by men and women in black robes and white wigs. They are more burdens of democracy we have still to bear.

Before Turai becomes President, remember all these promises – of light inside our homes and clothes on our backs, though we have learnt to see in the dark and wrap with our rags. We look up at the process that promised so many palates, but know by premonition that the plate of democracy will not be served anytime soon. The democracy we see is weighed by golden chains of family ties - that binds and gags all semblance of sanity.

They promised everything but we see nothing, so the masses throng to the throne for a view of the recluse that promised so much and produced so little. The vault of state groans with the gravity of excess crude, but stomachs of the poor groan with the misery of mass poverty. A testimony to the eternal truth; that far for anything built on lies, fears and tears to deliver the dawn of promise. Milk and honey a mirage, as merry - making fools make for the mow.

Before Madam President takes the throne, remember they told us that democracy was an elixir for the ills drowning our hearts, our homes and our country. We were told that democracy would give hope to those who grope, and guide us to growth. So we planned and plowed to pave the way for Old Aremu, mindless of warning whispers. Like the cat with nine, he became President and before our very eyes, broke our backs and strangled democracy to death with fists of steel. And steal.

Democracy’ promise to the Delta is the heavens that explode and poor earth shaking as bullets, bombs and battalions go blasting; bodies, bones, blackened and burning; women and waifs wailing and weeping; death and destruction hither and thither. But these brothers in arms were created by the promises of politicians, and now other politicians order other brothers in uniform to go for the kill. To them, I say one thing – look under the military retirees bridge at Zone 4. That, also, is another kind of burden.

Before you become President, remember, Madam, that though the burden of democracy may have forced truth to flee in the face of falsehood, and good men eulogize evil to bash around the bonfires of the banal, the burden that you are attempting to bear will break that back. That is one thing with the burden of democracy. It breaks the backs of those who take it for ride it too far.

WHEN IVORY TOWERS COME CRASHING DOWN

2009-06-29T02:35:00.000-07:00

By: Salisu Suleiman

This is my first letter to you from school, and what I see, sir is not a pretty sight. I know this letter will break your heart, but you taught me to speak my mind. You must know that nothing is as you recall. You say school gave you some of the happiest years in life, enlightenment, education and a future. What I see today are bleak, blank faces, gazing at bleak, bland futures.

I do not see the cheery days and starry nights you recall so fondly. The tower you remember has crashed down to the dungeons of decrepit desolation and disrepair; from an incubator of fresh thinking, it is now a prison of dead thoughts. What I perceive from the prism of this prison is a picture not of enlightenment at its highest peak, but ignorance at its darkest pitch.

What education I see is confusing; teachers perplexing; methods stultifying and solutions unnerving. What I see is truth tethered on the tentacle of lies and facts fanned by farce. What I see is a dearth of research, paucity of original thinking and plentiful of intellectual inertia. I see teachers who grimace at the embrace of technology then retreat to their comfort zones of submerged subterfuge, prostituting posterity for pittance. They teach in public schools, but all have children in private schools.

You say you made your best friends in school, but through the miasma that shrouds the clouds of today’s comradeship, what I see are the bonfires of the occult as they sweat, shiver and shout; they see everything and nothing; they strangle, shoot and stab; they climb a mound of skulls for a moment of transient clout that is premised on pretexts, lies, fears and tears. I see no lasting friendships in that fraternity.

I swear, sir, that I see a 1000 students crammed into a class meant for 100; I see PhDs being dictated lecture notes; I see scientists that have never seen a laboratory; I see everywhere labels that complicates the easy and distorts the simple. I see students who tried to live by the norms and were labeled conformist; some tried to be proactive and were deemed radical; those who sat on the fence were called unstable. For trying to articulate their ideas a few were stamped controversial. Some opted to do what they believed in but were termed fundamentalists.

I interact with students who know everything about soccer, nothing about Socrates; all about Arsenal, nothing about Aristotle; all about Maradona, nothing about Michelangelo; all about Pele, nothing about Plato. I see the mast of memories misted by the fog of foiled, failed folios; I see the sunlight of education supplanted by hollow halogens, fanning the flames of familial frames into frayed fringes. Next time you tell me I can’t speak, read or write English, I will tell you that I speak better English than my teachers. Next time you say youths today are without creativity nor intellect, I will reply that I am taught by professors who have published nothing in a dozen years.

Through the prism of so many prisons, I see once cherished values dragged into the gutter of moral penury; I see students storming through a million pages without comprehension for a piece of parchment; I see teachers bluffing and bullying their ways with blunt ignorance; I see culture confined to the cellars of a confused continuum called civilized conduct; I see sons reject time honored symphonies to go searching, picking and parodying primordial patterns from which they obtain no education, no enlightenment and nothing of the nuances needed to knead a livelihood.

The school I write from today is a place where the search for truth is nothing; students lie and cheat with sacred texts that meant something to get scores that leave them sharing no shade and no shelter from once shielded sanctuaries, now synods of sybaritic sacrilege. The time has come when merit is wasting and cheating is without compare most paying. The time has come when dirges announce the birth of new ideas and pyres precede people unable to pirate patents. And because government is on a stretched, secluded sabbatical, it has lost touch with my teachers. So they teach for three months and strike for six.

In the hostels you recall like yesterday, I am awakened by the bedlam of students scurrying to fetch water to wash their faces and cook their meals; I see 16 students crammed into the single room you once lived alone. On the shelves where you kept your books are kerosene stoves; in the wardrobes where you once hung your shirts are sacks of food; in the hands of masters students, I see lecture notes stenciled from back in the 1980s; the libraries are homes to books of antiquity and today’s seminars, a bizarre bazaar of intellectual ineptitude.

In class, we are plied with new lies to quell old fears; where you once watered the bud of hope for the flower of your future, what I see now is the slow, death dance of fast fading hopes. The ivory towers are anchored on the rusty chains of complacency. As I watch the procession, I am confronted by life’s stony harshness, and fear I may singe even further from the emptiness of an education that is stilted, shapeless, shrouded in mystery, mindless, meaningless.

Once in a while though, I do see shafts of sunlight, summarily supplanted, but from which hinges the hope that for a second split into a million shreds, the clear path to light may one day flash through, and my education may be a fraction of all that you hoped for. In the meantime, father, I am school, but learning nothing.