Former President, Olusegun Obasanjo, is not one of my favourite Nigerians.
For me, he approximates to what his Yoruba people call omo ita agbalagba (roughly translated as delinquent adult). I know I’m very wrong with this characterisation of the grand old man, but I just can’t seem to come off this bias.
I know he is arguably the most intelligent man that ever ruled this country. His physical energy and mental prowess are legendary, but so also is his capacity for mischief. So, when he writes his ‘open’ letters, for instance, you’d be naive not to look beyond the letter. For, oftentimes, there’s an underlying political score (a master stroke, if you like) that is not necessarily captured in the words of the letters. Automatically, I conclude that someone is about to be set up. Yes, there’s always an agenda that is not too ‘open’. Similarly, when OBJ makes a drama of publicly prostrating for 42-year-old new Ooni (who is his father, by tradition, anyway), I instantly suspect the old fox is up to something – especially when this ‘show’ is immediately followed up with a visit to the new Oluwo of Iwo and a very categorical statement on the creation of the proposed Ijebu State. And then, there’s also the supreme irony of an out-of-government Obasanjo now turning round to address governors as emperors? Hmmm! I dey laugh o! I’m eagerly waiting for the next sequence in the script.
But, while we wait, I must admit that I fully agree with OBJ’s position on rescuing the abducted Chibok girls. Many of us (both PDP apologists and APC megaphones) had long come to that conclusion. But we had to keep living a lie until those who hoped to score a political point with the Chibok girls made their kill.
Now, after the politicking, we’re beginning to look for avenues to give vent to the truth (which we had been denying). Enter OBJ!
Of course, It’s painful – considering the torture that families of those poor girls have had to face for nearly two years now. Yes, the girls we now treat as statistics and political slogans, are some people’s beloved daughters, sisters, nieces, neighbours and friends. So so painful
However, now that OBJ has broken the proverbial coconut, we can begin the gradual process of coming out of the bring-back-our-girls mode. It’s a soft landing for the people who had ridden to power on (among other lies) the promise of rescuing the Chibok girls.
But, like I have said in this space several times before, there is an emerging style I have observed with the current APC-led central government, which I will no longer complain about. I won’t say anything about a seeming lopsidedness in everything the government does. In fact, PMB can turn a blind eye to all the thieves in APC and help us catch those in PDP, and let them either vomit or sh*t whatever they have swallowed that does not belong to them, it’s huge progress on the path to a corruption-free Nigeria. Come 2019, or 2023 or even in another 16 years when PDP (or another variant of opposition) reclaims power from APC, they too would then help us catch the APC thieves, who are today masquerading as saints behind the broom.
It is then that we would know the details of some of today’s dizzying court and election tribunal verdicts. It is then we would understand why the judiciary is giving the president so much headache in his one-track fight against corruption. It is also then that we’d make meaning of why the federal government that confesses to treating Boko Haram with kid gloves would unleash blood-thirsty and trigger-happy soldiers and policemen on peaceful IPOB protesters. At that time too, we would know where the APC warehoused its own campaign funds, having blown the lid on the Office of the National Security Adviser.
In fact, I’m eagerly waiting for such a time when somebody in government would not only turn the light on today’s thief catchers, but also, categorically identify the cheap substance, which got a certain Aluko so high that he began to bring to the open, what he and Fayose’s cooked in secret. Because nobody can convince me that the man is not high on something cheap. Cheaper than crack!
Maybe, by then too, we’d be able to unearth a scandal messier than paying N900 million to a contractor and asking him to keep the money and not do the job. Or a wickedness more heartless than buying a disused helicopter (read that as ‘scrap) at twice the price of a new one, and forcing Airforce pilots to go commit suicide by flying them. Surely, the heart of man is desperately wicked!
Yes, there is a lot of the-more-you-look-the-less-you-see in this anti-graft war, but I support it whole heartedly. Nobody who has blood flowing in his veins would fail to cringe at the mention of the heart-wrenching figures of funds looted by the serial rapists, who claimed to be governing us. It does not matter that many of the allegations are spiced with a generous dose of propaganda.
Nor that they have used the anti-graft war to steer our attention away from what we ought to be focusing on. It does not also matter that corruption is being fought through corruption nor that corruption is fighting back. Dogon turenci.
Conversation with HRM Eze Nelson Obasi
Two weeks ago, I did a piece on the scourge of the autonomous community phenomenon in the South East, especially in Imo and Abia states. While many readers called to express similar frustrations in their communities, some from my own community saw it as a direct attack on our about-to-be-corronated king, Eze (Sir) Nelson Obasi, Dim II of Dim Na Nume. My offence? I addressed him as Eze-elect, when he is a substantive Eze, having already been given staff of office by the state governor. Now, if you addressed a governor who has yet to be sworn in as governor-elect, you’ll be in order. But it’s not nearly the same with a king. And my Eze took time to explain the difference to me.
Thankfully, this king is not only educated (he’s our first graduate traditional ruler), but he’s also exposed, widely travelled and very discerning. He retired as a very senior public servant. Needless to say, he had also followed my progress in my job and, some years ago, was instrumental to my being honored as a distinguished son of the soil.
But then, the do-gooders, who obviously cry more than the bereaved, almost got between me and my king, his loyal subject.
So, when, alarmed, I did call him, he gave me more lectures, advice and an excursion into the history and culture of my people. I almost felt like a prodigal son. But I enjoyed the full benefit of having a broad-minded king. He told me he knows most of my writings are satires and he perfectly understood my drift. He didn’t even dwell on the issue of the article, because he too had his reservations about the malaise of autonomous communities and the general lack of unity and consensus. He was rather more concerned about how to bring every good hand on board to improve the lot of our long-abandoned community. I was humbled. Long may you reign, Your Majesty!
SUN
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